#but it does not leave my mouth feeling clean or fresh or even give me minty breath or anything. smh
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toytulini · 2 months ago
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it is baffling to me that ppl keep insisting "if its not sprite then what IS it tho?" and seemingly do not...retain the recipes that are being shared. like you dont have to memorize them its just repeatedly "is lemonade not sprite though? how is it not sprite?"
"its lemon juice, water, and sugar"
"is it not the same as sprite?" no we just told u. does that sound like sprite to you. does sprite give you the vibe of juicing some lemons on a hot summer day? the lemonade version closest to Sprite over here, in terms of Being Lemonade, is still Notably Different from sprite, or any other soda, is probably Minute Maid, a highly processed branded lemonade that you can occasionally get from soda fountains (DESPITE! NOT BEING CARBONATED! similar to how they somehow dispense iced or sweet tea from soda fountains) it sometimes comes in a can or 2L bottle similar to soda, in the soda isle. and its Not Soda. its not Carbonated. its Trying To Pretend So Hard To Be Real Lemonade. it tastes like lemonade thats a bit sad. it is far more lemonade than SPRITE will ever be. if yall were simply insisting that lemonade is carbonated, that it was like, fizzy minute maid, that would be less offensive than calling sprite lemonade. which is Insane. good god.
#toy txt post#it is a beverage simple enough that *I* could make it#you could Find Out#you dont Have To. but its right there#see Here its easy even if you dont want to Juice Lemons cos they sell powdered lemonade that is so so decent#countrytime my beloved. im sure Real Lemonade drinkers might shit on me even for that#and YES god Victorians did get crazy with the fizzy lemonade they had those like glass bauble things to add bubbles that sometimes just#exploded. but the fact that you got so removed from it that you're calling sprite lemonade 😭. youre calling FANTA lemonade? surely not the#orange soda??? at least call it orangeade or some shit. it would still be wrong but like. christ alive these are different fruits#the idea of calling VIOLENTLY orange most artifical shit ive ever tasted in my life soda lemonade is just. sending me#like i Like An Orange Soda. thats Extremely Not Lemonade#idk like we have Processed ass lemonades. i tend to have those cos im lazy. but i Could Make Real Lemonade#my Favorite processed lemonade rn is the calypso brand. its so flavorful. im also susceptible to the cute glass bottle unfortunately.#i really like the strawberry lemonade and the blue one#sigh#this is probably akin to saying that apple juice is the same as cider. or smth. except no its still worse#also our ciders are different bc alcoholic or Hard Cider is not considered the Default here but i understand its the default elsewhere#anyway. sorry to all my non american friends about bringing up Lemonade Discourse Yet Again#if we ever visit. in either direction. i will have to try to make you some proper lemonade so you can understand how egregious it is#to hear it called 'sprite'#and also so u can have some yummy lemonade#it hits so much better on a hot summer day than sprite fr#sneaking premixed strawberry lemonade over in those little alcohol bottles they allow on airplanes. i am arrested at customs for trying to#impose Big Lemonade into what is clearly the territory of Big Sprite#anyway i think if travelling americans recieved Actual Cloudy Lemonade that Happened To Be Fizzy they might be like oh shit! why is it#fizzy! did you mix sprite in it or something? it would still be DISTINCT from sprite. the fact that yall think theyre the same.....#thats some real. mint chocolate chip ice cream tastes like toothpaste shit. No The Fuck It Doesnt what are you on#for one toothpaste is sharper and stronger usually. unless youre using the mild mint ones i guess. i Dont. for 2 it leaves you mouth#feeling fresh and clean. mint ice cream is yummy for sure#but it does not leave my mouth feeling clean or fresh or even give me minty breath or anything. smh
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pure-smut · 3 months ago
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the taste of you.
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featuring: Laios Touden x f!reader
contains: you're a succubus and Laios wants to eat you (out), cunnilingus, mention of death
word count: 1.4k
note: all characters are 21+!
MDNI | 18+ content
series: 1. the taste of you | 2. the feel of you
masterlist
You’re lounging in the small, rocky pool of your home, dipping your head back in the water to clean your hair. Your floor of the dungeon resembles a mini paradise, all fresh water and cherry blossoms and soft, vibrant grass. You love living here, your own space shared with no one – except the odd dungeon crawler, traipsing through your home with their dirty boots and loud voices.
You don��t mind though. You have to eat sometime.
You’re not a bad monster, you just get hungry. And it’s not like the men who stumble across you aren’t willing, they just forgo all logic and think with that thing between their legs. Once you’ve had your fill, drained the life from their bodies as they spill their seed inside you, you leave their bodies by the entrance as a kindness.
You’re starting to get hungry again, starting to wonder when someone new will visit, when you hear the rasp of metal armour. You smooth your wet hair back and turn to the source of the disruption.
A tall man with fair hair stands at the edge of your pool.
Perfect.
You rise from the water, exposing your bare chest, and smile sweetly at him.
“A weary traveller,” you say. “In need of refuge.”
The man only stares at you, a notch between his brows. It’s not the same hungry look that men usually give you, their instincts already taking over before you even touch them. You wait a moment for him to say something but he doesn’t, only studies you.
“Your name?” you ask, trying a different tact.
“Laios,” he replies.
“Laios,” you repeat, rolling his name around your mouth.
“And yours?”
You smile. Only a few men have ever asked your name, some of them thinking it will save them from their fate. It doesn’t.
“Y/N,” you tell him and he considers this.
After a beat, he offers his hand out to you. You take it, stepping out of the pool to stand naked in front of him. When Laios looks you up and down, it doesn’t feel the same as the other men. It feels… curious.
“Come, Laios.” You keep holding his hand, guiding him to a clear area of soft grass. “Sit with me.”
Laios does what you say, kneeling politely in front of you. You sit opposite and spread your legs for him, leaning back on your arms. Laios’s eyes trail down to your glistening lips, making you smile. He is still a man after all.
“You’re tired,” you say sympathetically. “Your body is sore, your mind is weary. Take some respite with me, Laios. I’ll take care of you.”
Laios’s golden eyes flick up to yours.
“You’re a succubus,” he states. You smile and shrug.
“I am.”
He holds his chin in thought as you wait for him quietly.
“Will my body be recovered? he eventually asks.
You huff a laugh in surprise. No one’s ever planned their death in advance before. There’s always a hint of hubris, of thinking they can pull back at the last moment, not knowing you have them as soon as they’re inside you.
“Yes.” You reward his honesty with your own. “I leave the bodies by the entrance so they can be found.”
Laios looks pleased, gifting you his first smile since he arrived.
“Not many monsters care about that,” he says.
“Well, I have to eat, that's all.” You shrug again. “Otherwise I’ll starve.”
Laios’s eyes brighten.
“I’m hungry, too,” he says.
Huh, that’s a weird thing to say. You shake the thought off as Laios moves closer to you, gently pushing your knees apart to make space for himself. His eyes are glued on the fruit between your legs, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. You grin and rest back further, sinking onto your forearms. You’re looking forward to your meal – little do you know that Laios is as well.
Laios stands to tugs off his armour, carefully laying the pieces down in a neat pile, leaving himself in his undershirt and drawers. When he falls back down to his knees between your legs, you expect him to pull his cock free, to sink himself into you as soon as possible.
You don’t expect him to bend down and run his tongue along your pussy.
You inhale sharply, nearly pulling back in shock. You stare down at him as Laios raises his head, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Sweet,” he says, rolling his tongue in his mouth. “A slight tang and… hm. Something else.”
It takes you a second to realise he’s talking about you. About your taste.
With wide eyes, you watch Laios as he lies down on his stomach to get more comfortable. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you to him and licks another stripe along your folds. His broad tongue splits your lips as he finds your hole, the source of your nectar. Laios makes a content noise as he pushes his tongue inside you.
You shudder with pleasure, reaching down to slide your fingers through his hair. His strong nose nudges your clit, heightening your enjoyment.
Laios laps at your hole, delighted by the taste of you, your flavour dancing along his tongue. You’re not like he expected, much sweeter and earthier, but delicious either way. And he’d be lying if he said he isn’t enjoying the noises you make, the little quiver of your thighs. Eating is an experience, he knows.  The way you whimper and scratch at his scalp is part of the experience, part of why you taste so good.
Laios moves away from your hole, licking his way up to your clit. He finds it swollen and slippery with more of your arousal so he flattens his tongue and swipes broad strokes over it. You tug his hair a little tighter, your moans a little louder.
You’re leaning back, supporting yourself on one arm as you look down at Laios, watching him feast on you, his lips flush to your mound. His eyes are closed in bliss, his brows pushed together in the middle.
Laios sucks softly on your swollen bud and moans into your pussy. You cry out, pleasure seizing you in a vice grip. You squeeze his head between your thighs, the dungeon echoing with your ragged moans. When you’re too sensitive to continue, Laios moves back down to your hole, lapping at you once more, eager for the juices he just caused.
You lay back, chest heaving as Laios continues to lick you deep. You let him, enjoying the feel of his tongue against your less sensitive nerves. Laios only pulls back when his jaw cramps, stopping him.
You prop yourself back up on your forearms to look at him. Laios’s mouth and chin is shiny with your arousal, which he doesn’t bother to wipe off.
“Definitely sweet,” he confirms, his eyes alight and a grin on his face. He absently rubs his jaw, trying to work away the cramp. “Which makes sense – succubus tend to eat a lot of fruit.”
You listen to him, still slightly dazed from your orgasm, as Laios continues thinking out loud, theorising your taste and growing more animated by the second. His excitement is palpable and you can’t help but smile at him but you’re distracted. There’s a strange feeling in your stomach, something familiar but unfamiliar at the same time. You’re still trying to place it when Laios interrupts your train of thought.
“I’m curious about something though,” he says, flexing his hands and looking down at them. “Why haven’t I died?”
You scrunch up your face in confusion.
“What?”
“I thought I’d be dead.” Laios looks equally confused. “Isn’t that what a succubus does? Drains energy?”
Huh. You guess you’d never thought about what would happen if someone had sex with you without penetration.
“You know, I’m not sure,” you answer truthfully. “I’ve only ever drained them through their…”
You pointedly look down, noting that Laios is sporting a sizeable tent in his drawers despite his curious enthusiasm.
“Oh.” He looks down before glancing up again, his knuckle pressed against his lips in thought. “That’s interesting. Would it need to be genitals or would fingers work? I definitely had my tongue inside you so we can rule that out.”
Laios goes onto another tirade again, his face alight. You watch this adorable weirdo enthuse about what appendage he could safely put inside you and feel your face breaking out in a smile.
You enjoy being alone, being in your own company, but it’s been a while since you were this entertained.
“Laios,” you say, interrupting him gently.
“Hm?”
You beckon him closer, brushing your thumb across the light stubble on his jaw. He’s quite handsome, you think. How did you not notice before? You grin at him.
“Why don’t we try some of your theories out?”
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allbark-no-bite · 1 year ago
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cowboy up.
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jake seresin x reader (wc: 2.6k)
summary: Jake’s a tease. and a cowboy. it makes your friends sick
warnings: really none i think, just talk of and allusions to sex
authors note: very loosely based off of “Dirty Looks” by Lainey Wilson. it got me into the mood to write a little something. briefly mentioned that reader is Ice’s daughter
——————————���—————————————
"Well hello, mi cowboy."
It's the deliciously sensual roll of the endearment off of your tongue that has Jake hooking two fingers through the loop of your jeans and tugging you firmly into his side as he approaches the bar. It starts up an engine-like rumble in his chest that travels up his throat and catches, vibrating while he bows down to kiss you. Just the sight of your sweet smile has the weariness of the day melting off of him.
El cowboy, you mother had appraised with great enthuse the first time you had brought Jake home, and he greeted her with his smooth as honey southern drawl. Being Latino and having grown up just along the border in El Paso, her English was still licked with Spanish flare and it made everything she said sound rivetingly amorous. Even after three years of dating, she still widely referred to him as the cowboy—your cowboy.
"Hey, darlin'. Sorry I wasn't here sooner. There were some mechanical issues with my plane and I couldn't get away," he apologizes, hence the grease stains on his hands. He had probably only taken the time to change into a fresh set of clothes before leaving base and driving straight to the Hard Deck.
You only hum, tipping your head up to steal a second kiss before he straightens. "Glad you're here now."
Jake has to stop himself from chasing your lips for a third. Penny's warned him about getting too frisky at the bar. It's not his fault when you taste like strawberry margaritas and are wearing those jeans that you know drive him crazy.
But when he looks over his shoulder, Penny's sliding him an ice cold beer from across the bar. "This one's on the house, Seresin." The gleam shining in her eyes tells him that she's caught the two of you but is going to let it slide this time.
When he opens his mouth to argue, already digging his wallet out of his pocket, she shakes her head. "Looks like you had a long day. Enjoy the beer."
"Really, Pen, I—"
Penny's back is already turned as she heads to the other side of the bar to serving an incoming crowd of aviators.
Jake glances down to his well worn boots while his hand goes to his jaw to feel at the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow. Does he really look that worn out? He has to resist the urge to smell himself.
He looks back to you, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself for showing up like this. Here he is, covered in sweat and engine grease, while his own girlfriend is standing next to him, looking way out of his league. Even the Dagger Squad looks fresh and put together. It would have been hard to guess that they had all been out sweating on the tarmac together earlier in the day.
"I probably should have cleaned up," he admits, running a hand over the cropped hair at the back of his neck. He's wondering if he can at least escape to the bathroom for a minute to stick his head under the sink.
What Jake doesn't know is that you might actually kill him if he does that. There's something about the combination of his off-duty khakis and dusty boots that is making your heart flutter. The tousle of his blonde hair after a long day and ruddy flush of his already tan cheeks give off the impression that he's more than just a pretty face. He looks hard working and very, very capable.
"Jake?"
"Hmm?" he hums, having been eyeing the bathrooms, contemplating even just splashing some water on his face.
Your heart squeezes painfully when his dazzling green eyes turn back to land on yours, eyebrows raised in question, fully attuned to whatever it is that you may need. "What baby—"
He stops mid sentence when you pull him down by the back of his neck to kiss him. This time it's a much less chaste kiss than the one you greeted him with, and he gets to really taste the strawberry margarita on your lips—a bit sweet, a little salty. The taste makes his mouth tingle and he's not sure if it's you or the tequila that's making him feel buzzed.
Jake's hand immediately slips around your waist, his large hand on your back, pressing you into him. A groan slips out of him when his fingers brush the warm skin just above the rise of your jeans.
The fact that you had purposefully chosen not to wear your khakis like himself and the rest of the crew makes Jake that much more hot and bothered. It's not that he dislikes your usual naval attire, because he doesn't. He loves how it fits you, who you become when you wear it, your signature "Frostbite" embroidered on the front—the name he gave you. It's the fact he's come in, dead on his feet from working all day, and his diamond of a girlfriend is wearing an outfit she put on just for him.
Really, Jake thinks his chest might just implode.
His free hand had been holding his beer out to the side, momentarily forgotten once you'd started kissing him. Blindly, he sets it down behind him, the glass clinking against the bar top so that he can get both of his hands on you without spilling. He prefers you, the taste of your skin anyhow.
"So damn sweet," he groans into the underside of your jaw, eyes shut as he fights the urge to say fuck it and take you home now. "Could just eat you."
You laugh, fingers gripping his blonde hair. "Is that a promise, cowboy?" Jake's teeth scrape your pulse point and your fingers tighten. His body is hot pressed flushed against you, moving as you move so that the contact never breaks.
"Baby, I'd devour you," he promises huskily into your ear. Mav has been working them to the bone for the past few weeks, and Jake has hardly had the energy to climb the front steps when he gets home, much less make it to the bedroom. To say you've both been left wanting is an understatement.
His lips press wetly to your neck. "You look good, Frosty Girl. You know how much I love those jeans..."
You hum, eyes fluttering closed as Jake sends you to that place. That place where only you and Jake exist, where the worries of the day melt away, and it smells like his cinnamon oak body wash and the hint of beer on his breath. It doesn't matter than he smells slightly of sweat and jet fuel because that's just him. That's what makes him Jake.
"Mmm, you do?" Of course he does. Jake Seresin drinks the air you breathe and worships the ground you walk on. "I think you'll like what I have on under them more."
If Jake had been twenty-one again, he'd have a raging hard on in his jeans right now. After two years of dating you, he's developed a bit of self control since then. He spent a lot of lunch breaks jacking off in the bathroom the first few months. All you had to do was rub up against him climbing out the back seat of the cockpit and he was sneaking off to take care of himself before any of the Dagger squad could see the missile sized hard on in his pants.
Jake smiles, his pearly white grin pressed into your neck. His jade green eyes peer up at you with a gleam of anticipation.
"Black?" he guesses, his nimble fingertips already dipping just past your waistband to brush across the lace he knows he's going to find.
"Uhh mm," you deny, enjoying the thrill of teasing him with your secret.
His warm breath fans across your neck. "Red?"
The corners of your mouth quirk up into a look that Jake can only describe as devilish. "I figured you deserved a treat. I know you've been—" Before you can finish, Jake is kissing you. His pink lips are cool and a bit wet from the beer he's been nursing, but his tongue is hot and slick and wet and it just feels so good.
"Jesus. Get a room, you two."
Despite the roar of blood in his ears, the buzzing in his veins, Jake recognizes the sound of Bradley's voice just a table away.
Begrudgingly pulling away from the kiss, Jake doesn't release you just yet, just moves his head to look over your shoulder. He had hardly even acknowledged the Dagger Squad when he walked in, too focused on you. And maybe that's on him.
"Sorry, Bradshaw. Didn't see you there." You can tell Jake's smirking over your shoulder, hand not so slyly cupping the curve of your ass as he reaches for his beer with the other, playing at indifference. He takes a slow swig of it, unbothered by the fact that your friends -you coworkers- are all watching. "I was busy saying hello to my unbelievably sexy girlfriend."
Without breaking eye contact with Bradley, Jake plants a filthy wet kiss to the pulse point of your neck. It's enough to make the other aviator's mustache twitch and his throat constrict with a impulsive swallow. Regardless of how they acted— always at each other’s throats— there was no longer any bad blood between the two pilots. That feud had been settled on the Uranium mission last year and was replaced by new found respect, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t seize every opportunity to ruffle the other’s feathers.
"This is a public space," Natasha reminds him, as if he were unaware of the extremely crowded bar.
Jake smirks. "Oh believe me, I'm holding back for Floyd's sake. Wouldn't want to ruin his innocence."
The weapon system officer emits a noise of protest from across the table, his cheeks flashing an embarrassed hue of red. "I've already told you, I'm not a virgin!"
You giggle into Jake's shoulder at his complait, content to bask in the temporary stronghold of your boyfriend's embrace. It's nice to get moments with him like this, away from the stress of work and without the pressure of success weighing on your shoulders.
Of course your friends knew about yours and Jake's relationship, had known since the very first date, but in nearly three years of dating, they had come to the realization that they knew very little about your relationship. Work was strictly professional for the two of you and even at the bar, the most intimate thing they'd ever seen occur was Jake greeting you with a quick kiss.
"Damn, Bagman, you walking in here, kiss Frost senseless, and now she's giggling? You're telling me that's all it takes to bring her from she-devil to—giggling?" Coyote asks from behind his pool cue, sauntering over to join the group.
Jake, his green eyes gleaming, slips his warm palm under your shirt to smooth over the exposed curve of your hip. "I can make her do a lot more than giggle, Machado."
You groan, burying your embarrassingly flushed face further into Jake's neck. Although your boyfriend may be able to play the nonchalance card, you can only take so much of their teasing.
You push away from Jake before he can start full on groping you in front of your friends. If there's one thing about Jake, he has no shame when it comes to showing you off.
"I don't giggle, Javy," you stress, choosing to ignore Jake's comment.
Fanboy, who is never far behind the other pilot, saunters over and slings an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Giggle? I've never even seen you crack a smile."
Before you can respond, Jake is sliding an impossibly large palm around to cup the back of your neck, fingers digging in to the tense muscle that he knows is there. Relax, is what that means. "Careful, she does bite." He's grinning, a smug, but knowing smirk on his face. 
"Fuck, man. I knew you were into that kinky shit," Coyote quips, and it evokes a few laughs from the Dagger squad, save for Natasha, who pretends to roll her eyes. 
Jake grins. "Damn straight."
"Easy, cowboy," you warn, your eyes narrowing at him in playful warning.
You're not necessarily embarrassed by Jake's insinuation of your sex life, the two of you were well established in your relationship and you trusted your friends too much to be embarrassed by that kind of thing. It's just that being Admiral Kazanky's daughter meant that too many people assumed you had only made it this far because of your old man or that you were sleeping through the ranks, which was far from the truth. 
You deserved to be here. And Jake knows this, which is why his thumb is still massaging at the pressure point at the base of your skull, just behind your ear. Everything about him, from the reassuring smile he directs at you to his relaxed body language is him letting you know that it's all in good fun, and no one here thinks that you don’t belong here in the slightest. 
Bradley's shaking his head as he lounges against the pool table. "I don't know what I'm going to have to tell my therapist about first, the fact that Frost calls you 'cowboy' or the fact you probably get off on that shit.”
Jake grins, toothpick bobbing in his mouth as his impish smile widens. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Bradshaw?”
The truth is, he does. Behind the cool and collected facade that he’s putting up, bantering back and forth with your friends while he sips his beer, he’s just the right amount of hot and bothered that he wouldn’t mind calling it a night just to go home and have his way with you. He hasn’t forgotten about the little red number you’re wearing.
Having lost the attention of the rest of the squad to the pool table during his and Rooster’s banter, Jake shifts his focus to you. Large hand coming to rest on your back, he dips down to murmur in your ear. “Think I’m about ready to turn in, kid. What do you say we get out of here?”
Your pretty face turns towards him, and you don’t miss the gleam in his green eyes. Smiling privately to yourself, you eyes reflect his knowingly. “Rooster will never let you live it down. You only just got here.” However, that doesn’t mean you can’t be coerced.
Jake hums, his lips pressing to your temple in a kiss that’s meant to hide the fact that he’s whispering— plotting— in your ear. “I’ll buy ‘em around on the way out. They won’t even notice we’re gone,” he reasons.
You smile, turning back to the game of pool as Jake leans over you before you give him. “Go on,” you finally encourage. “I’ll follow you out.”
Grinning and all too pleased with himself, Jake slips off behind you, but not before giving an affectionate pat to your ass. You have to refrain from rolling your eyes at him.
You wait a while before discreetly making your escape form the pool table, grabbing your things as you go. Jake’s waiting for you at the door, all too pleased to see you, as though he hadn’t just five minutes before. “Made it?”
“Yeah, I don’t think they—”
“Well damn, goodbye to you guys too!” Rooster calls from across the bar. Obviously having noticed your departure, the Dagger Squad is all standing around the pool table, shaking their heads in varying levels of amused disapproval.
Payback crosses his arms. “You guys make me sick.”
Opening the door for you, Jake turns and tips his imaginary cowboy hat at them with an grin. “Sorry man. If you all will excuse me, I’ve got some riding to do.”
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the-hinky-panda · 6 months ago
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The Medic Series: Part III
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Title: The Medic Series
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Johnny Coco Cruz x OFC (Morgan "Stitches" Fox)
Summary: Morgan Fox is a nurse who is looking for a fresh start. She leaves La Jolla the night before her wedding for a fresh start in Santo Padre.
Author's Note: This series takes place in the same universe as @bullet-prooflove's Community Series.
Taglist: @darqchilddaydreamz @kmc1989
Coco is in love. 
At least that’s what he thinks it is once he realizes the blonde woman in bloody scrubs isn’t an angel. But she looks beautiful enough to be one. She and Letty help him back into the clinic and his fuzzy mind is able to put together that it was the John who got the jump on him with…something. The nurse, he’s struggling with remembering her name, cleans most of the blood away and starts assessing the cut. He has to make a concerted effort to not lean into her touch, bury his face against her lightly perfumed neck. She is just so…he can’t settle on a word.
“Felt like I got hit with a fuckin’ 2x4.” 
She hums. “Based on the skin split, I would say it was a baseball bat.” 
“What do you think bats are made out of?” 
Her ice blue eyes drop down to his face in surprise. But when his mouth twists into a grin, so does hers, crinkles appearing in the corner of those beautiful eyes. 
Fuck. He’s a complete goner. And he still can’t remember her name. 
“Alright,” she says, pulling a fresh pair of gloves on, “looks like everyone is getting stitches this evening.” 
“Stitches!” 
She nods. “Yup, that’s a nasty gash on your head. You and your daughter are going to have matching wounds for a little bit.” 
“No,” he starts to shake his head but then realizes that will mess her up. “That’s your name, right? Stitches?” 
“My nickname, yes,” she laughs quietly. “Apparently they really like the way I do them. I’m guessing there was another nurse who didn’t do them so well.” 
“The one you replaced was shit.” Coco closes eyes. He’s so close to her he can smell her own scent underneath the perfume, see the smoothness of her skin. His head already hurts too much to have perfection a couple inches from his lips. “The club doesn’t even come here to get patched up.” 
“Where do they go?” 
He feels the first pinch of the needle and it helps ground him. “No where.” 
“They all look like fucking Frankensteins,” Letty pipes up. 
“We do not,” Coco counters. But that did remind him. “Speaking of the club, they’re on their way.” 
Letty shifts on her feet. “Did you call the cops?” 
Coco opens one of his eyes to see who Letty addressed the question to and sees her eyes on Stitches’ face. 
Stitches worries her bottom lip. “I didn’t call them.” 
Coco releases a sigh of relief. Less red tape. “Good. We’ll take care of it.” 
“We’re going to have to take care of Celia too. I saw her drive off when we came out and found you behind the dumpster.” 
Coco grits his teeth as he feels the stitches tighten. “Probably gave the fucker the fucking baseball bat.” 
“She sounds like a lovely woman.” Stitches pulls her gloves off and tosses everything into the trash. “Will the club take care of her too?” 
“No,” Coco says. “I’ll take care of her.” 
Letty clears her throat as Stitches gathers fresh stitching supplies to finish her original job. There are looks passed between the two of them and Coco knows there’s some conversation that was had and he either can’t remember or wasn’t privy to in the first place. 
“What, mija?” 
Letty winces as her stitches start. “Morgan was telling me about a friend of hers. They might be able to help out too.” 
“Who the fuck is Morgan?” 
Both women give him a slightly alarmed look and Letty points to the nurse. “You didn’t think her actual name was ‘Stitches?’” 
Stitches winks at him. “Go easy on him, Letty. He’s got a head injury.” 
“We’ve all got fucking head injuries,” Letty mutters. 
Coco watches from the chair as Stitches tends to Letty and tries to come up with a plan that would convince an angel to give a poor devil a shot. 
***
“Shit!” 
Morgan is leaning on the rust stained porcelain sink, staring into a cracked mirror as she tries to lay the butterfly stitches properly along her temple. But by the time she blots the still oozing blood from the cut and properly positions the stitches, the blood has risen up enough that it prevents them from sticking. She’s gone through three of them now. 
“Need some help, Munequa?” 
She turns to see Coco standing in the open door to the bathroom. He must have finished filling in the club on the details of his situation. “Sure. As long as I don��t end up looking like Frankenstein.” 
He gives her a small smile. “No promises.” 
Morgan holds her breath as he blots the blood away with a much more gentle hand than she anticipates. She can see the small tattoo on the corner of his earth brown eyes, and one along his hairline that’s covered by his long hair. He smells of tobacco and cedarwood, and she fights the urge to tell him to stop smoking. The world needs more people like him, protectors, guardians. A father willing to fight for his daughter with such tenacity, it’s not uncommon but after all she’s seen in this world, it’s not common enough. 
“There,” he smoothes the butterfly stitches across her forehead with his thumbs, but his hands linger on the sides of her face. She can feel the calluses on his palms as they slide over her cheeks. 
“Thanks.” It’s the stupidest thing to say but it’s the only thing that came to mind given his close proximity. Instead of stepping away, he leans in closer.Her fingers curl into the soft flannel of his shirt when she realizes he’s going to kiss her and she hopes to God she remembers how to properly do this. But as soon as his lips brush against hers, someone shouts from the hallway. 
“Coco!” 
Both of you step back from each other, him knocking into the door and her banging her hip against the sink. They’re both still catching their breath when one of the MC members comes around the corner. He’s tall with slicked back hair and all it takes is one look between the two of them before he shakes his head with a chuckle. 
“Coco, come on, dawg. Creep’s got the dude in the back of the van.” He laughs again. “Let’s deal with this motherfucker first then you can come back and play doctor.” 
“Shut the fuck up, man.” Coco groans. “Shit, Letty. I gotta get her home.” 
Morgan perks up at that. “Oh, let me get you a business card. I was telling Letty that I have a friend back in La Jolla who handles sex trafficking and prostitution cases pro bono. He’s making up for all the time he spent as an ambulance chaser I suppose. But with what Letty was telling me, he could put together a pretty rock solid case against your mother for selling Letty to this rat bastard.” She hands him the card. “I mean, if you wanted to go the legal route.” 
Coco takes the card from her and tucks it in his shirt pocket. “Thanks, Stitch. For everything.” 
“Sure.” Morgan walks with them out to the reception area where there’s five other men wearing Mayan kuttes. Coco motions to the one of them, slightly taller than her but built solidly. 
“This is Bishop,” Coco introduces. “He’s our President.” 
Morgan shakes his offered hand. “Morgan Fox.” 
“Thanks for the help, Morgan. Appreciate it.” 
“Any time.” She holds his eyes for a moment. “I mean that.” 
“Careful what you promise,” he responds but with a good natured smile. “Alright, let's take care of this problem before the meds wear off.” 
Letty steps up next to Morgan. “I can help Morgan clean up the office and then she can drop me by the salvage yard. If that’s okay?” 
Morgan notices the looks between the men and realizes this is quite a big ask. She starts to suggest just taking Letty to her home when Coco speaks up. 
“That would work, Bish. I gotta talk to her about some help with Celia. She says she’s got a friend who handles stuff like this, on the up and up.” 
“Jail time?” Bishop asks. 
Morgan nods. “I’ve seen pimps go away for fifteen years on shaky evidence. This guy is good.” 
Bishop nods. “That’s fine then. We’ll let Chucky know you’re coming.” 
Morgan thanks them for the allowance to come onto their turf as she opens the front door for them. As they’re walking out to their bikes, she notices the driver of a dented up black van. He’s part of the club as members are going up to him and interacting with jokes and fist bumps. Coco climbs into the passenger seat of the van with him. 
“Who’s the van driver?” 
Letty looks out at the parking and squints. “Looks like Creeper. Why? You know him or something?” 
Morgan shakes her head as she closes and locks the door to the clinic. “Yeah, or something.” 
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honoratacarnage · 6 months ago
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My part of an art trade i did with @salamanderdr ! Skzoo versions of Puppy Love Hotel, a Horror!SKZ AU! you guys should really check them out!
tell me what y'all think!
oh and i've made a fic to accompany it, its going to be under read more!
The sun was starting to rise, filling the dark room with much needed light.
                Purple sunrays ran lazily across the floor, slowly taking space. The atmosphere felt strangely cozy, you could even say safe if you didn’t know what had happened there just a few hours ago. It was hard not to know, the screams were loud as hell, and the stench of blood overpowered any of the smell of morning dew. Inside that barely lit room, were two of the hotel’s most diligent workers. The rabbit/pig hybrid, nicknamed Bunny, moped the ground after bagging most of the bodies inside jumbo trash bags, piling them neatly in a corner.
                While the janitor (also lovingly called housemaid sometimes) cleaned all of those messy bloody memories that ruined the room, the one who had messed the room watched closely. A large two-faced wolf who went by Chaser, was absolutely drenched in blood, which was a surprising feat when you acknowledge how he was fully clothed while… working.
The intense gaze he kept on the pink one was so strong you’d think the pabbit who worked with his back facing him was next on his kill list, but he knew, even while at the tail end of his blood craze, that the pink one was too important to touch. “Important to the hotel. Important to Boss. Nothing else” he repeated in his large noggin, sighing loudly after realizing how tired he actually was.
                In reality, he was drenched in not only the guests blood, but also his own. Like the hardheaded bastard he was, he had decided to take down two targets in the same room at the same time. Although successful, they didn’t go down without a fight. The wolf now was breathing shallowly, whining when he felt his own bruised knuckles crackle and licking the blood that leaked off his broken nose like a faucet.
“You overdid it, didn’t you?” – Bunny murmured, so low it was almost to himself – “You are actually hurt.”
“How about you shut up and try to do your job properly, hm?” – wolf quipped
“I would if you stopped whining like a little bitch. Tell me, where does it ache the most?”
Bunny turned around to face Chaser, his line of sight hitting the wolf’s chest. He was way shorter compared to the wolf, but was equally as wide, maybe even a bit wider. Chaser was still staring deeply, trying to make eye contact with the indifferent pabbit. “Jaw feels funny. It’s normal after a night of biting, there’s nothing wrong” he was coming up with excuses to try to get the hybrid’s attention away from him. “Hey, I know to differentiate fresh blood from 3 hours ago blood. Your mouth is bleeding bad. Let me see” Bunny answered, not afraid of his coworker growling sentences.
Not waiting for whatever dumb answer the wolf may give, he reached up and pulled the other’s jaw open, while pulling his lips to the side. Chaser whelped loudly at the sudden intrusion, screaming “HEY AE YA FHUCKIN THTUPID” at the worried hybrid. He, weirdly, let the shorter keep examining him, feeling his thumbs stretch his cheeks and keep his tongue in place. Bunny could make such cute worried faces sometimes.
  “You lost a tooth. A carnassial even. How did you bite this hard?” Bunny exasperatedly asked “there was a bull and a lioness. Bet you chose to bite the bull. You know we sell their leather to cutting-proof clothing makers.” Bunny was reading him like a book, he knew Chaser would try some crazy stunt during the fight, his wrestling days never really leaving him.
Chaser, on the other hand, could only shyly grunt in response. He always felt like he had to be better than anyone working on that hotel, he had to provide, he couldn’t be upped by anyone. “You didn’t almost kill yourself trying to up Lovebird’s body streak, right?” Bingo. Bunny wasn’t reading him like a book, it was more like a teen magazine. Chaser felt his ears swivel back and his tail started to go between his legs, he hated that feeling, he hated feeling reprimanded, but he didn’t answer. He knew that Bunny could break his jaw open if he felt like it, and having his hands around it was a pretty clear start.
He chose to tightly wrap his hand around the pabbit’s chubby wrist instead, trying to threaten him against doing anything funny. Bunny didn’t care, he kept massaging the wolf’s tongue with the pad of his thumb while searching for any additional damages.
“We’ll have to visit Boss about this. Maybe he will give you a pretty gold tooth, huh puppy?” Chaser tried to swallow his spit, but with his jaw forced open he ended up drooling all over Bunny’s wrists. He couldn’t lie, having the shorter hands shoved in his mouth while he talked like the wolf was an idiot made his head fuzzy.
“Maybe not” – Bunny answered himself while sticking his own tongue out. He angled it to catch some of the blood that was cascading from Chaser’s mouth – “I can taste some beef in your mouth, I think you already had too many treats” he then finally released the wolf’s jaw, licking his own lips. Chaser felt his heart skip a beat.
Bunny tried to pull away his arm to continue moping the ground, but the wolf was still gripping his wrist tightly.
“What, aren’t you going to let me do my job?” Bunny chuckled “Does my pup Chaser need another checkup elsewhere?” Chaser tried to growl at the outrageous words coming from Bunny, but he could only let a choked sob out of his throat instead -- “Fuck off”.
“I see you are still whining like a little bitch. Beg properly and ill give what you want, dog.”
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voiceoffenrisulfr · 5 months ago
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Becoming Spider-Man - Chapter Three Peter Parker Signs Some Papers
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> Peter Parker & Tony Stark (IronDad)
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> The one in which Peter signs some papers, and Tony has to talk about Feelings.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 1938
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (T) References to a shitty guardian, but nothing specific.
𝐀/𝐍 -> Check it out below, or on AO3 here! Cute divider by @/sweetmelodygraphics! <- Previous Chapter (2/16) Next Chapter (4/16) ->
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Living at Tony's was a breath of fresh air after the tension I was used to.
As long as I still went to school, I was left to do as I wished – within reason – and trusted to be responsible. Tony spent most of his time out of the house or holed up in his workshop, but he'd cleared a table for me in one corner, offered with a nonchalant wave of his hand and an utterance about keeping my space clean. I worked on my web shooters, asking questions as they arose, and valuing his input when offered, or else doing my homework. We spent countless hours in companionable silence, his music providing a comforting backing track, albeit at a volume more conducive to conversation than it had been that first night.
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It was one such evening, three months into my time with Mr. Stark, when I shrugged off my backpack and dropped myself into my seat with a world-weary sigh, raising Tony's head from his latest indecipherable project. "Rough day, kid?"
"Penny this, Penny that…" I muttered, running my hands through my beloved hair. "You'd think they'd get the picture – but nope, they just think I'm a lesbian. Not that there's anything wrong with being a lesbian. It's just that I'm not one," I added, addressing the room as a whole as my cheeks began to burn. No way I'm discussing my sexuality with Iron Man… Gender is enough!
"Do you need me to talk to someone?" I blinked dumbly in response to the question, and he smirked. "I mean, if someone's giving you trouble…"
I shook my head slowly, sighing again. "I haven't even told anyone. I can't get mad about it, not really, if they don't know. It's just… Frustrating. I wish they could just know, y'know?" My fingers absently flicked a stray pencil across the table, sending it skittering to the floor and eliciting a wince from us both. "Sorry, Mr. Stark."
"Tony." He let out a breath as he bent, walking the discarded pencil back to me slowly, spinning between his fingers. "If you're… Struggling… I can tell whoever you need to know. Happy to help, if you want."
I hummed for a moment, then shrugged half-heartedly. "I dunno. I wish I could just change my name – there'd be no need to tell everyone then. It'd be done for me!"
Tony dropped the pencil in front of me, hesitating before he rapped his knuckles on the desk. "Leave it with me."
I felt my eyes widen, and I pushed the seat back as I leapt to my feet. "What… What does that mean?"
He wagged a finger over his shoulder as he turned, heading out of the room while I stood blinking, panicked, in his wake. "Mr. Stark? Tony! What do you mean?!"
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"Kid? You up?"
I let out a soft groan, burying my face in my pillow. "No."
I heard the quiet huff of laughter through the door, and the hushed drag of material sliding across the floor. "Here. I got her signature. It just needs yours. I'll submit them in the morning, and then that'll be it. Peter Parker… Officially."
The last word sent me sprawling to the wood, scuffing my palms as I scrambled to my feet. "Wait- what?" I yanked the door open as my voice broke embarrassingly, jumping several octaves in shock.
Tony stood with his hands in his pockets, looking battle-weary but proud as he nodded at the forms I'd leapt over. "You can change your name at any age. But if you're under eighteen, your guardian needs to sign too. So… I got her to sign. You can do your part whenever – if ever – you're ready."
My mouth worked wordlessly, floored yet again by a display of kindness from this… Superhero. Another act that likely didn't mean much to him, in the grand scheme of things, but that meant the world to me. "I… I don't know what to say. How? Why? How?!"
He chuckled again, shrugging. "Hot chocolate's in the kitchen. I'll have cream and marshmallows." I noticed, for the first time – to my shame – that he was drenched to the bone, hair plastered flat to his head as rainwater ran rivulets across his skin. I opened my mouth to apologise, but he simply waved me off as he turned. "Cream and marshmallows!"
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Tony appeared a few minutes later, just as I was finishing his desired additions, a towel slung over his shoulders, feet bare, and his hair still half-damp, sticking up at irregular angles. It was impossible not to smile. I'd never seen the inhuman man look so… human.
"What do you think you're grinning at?" he quipped, flicking a stray marshmallow at me with stunning precision.
"Is it raining?" I shot back, laughing as his mouth fell open in shock at my unexpected display of light-heartedness.
"We'll see how much you're laughing when I put you out in it, kid," he retorted when he recovered, rubbing the towel against his damp head before tossing it at me. I batted it away easily, feigning a yawn, and he chuckled, taking his seat and wrapping his hands around the mug. Tough as he was, he couldn't disguise the faint tremor in his grip as he let the heat leech through him, and a pang of guilt resonated within me that he'd been out in the bad weather for me.
"So…" I breathed out heavily, fingers resting on the form before me lightly. "How on earth did this happen?"
He shrugged a shoulder as he took a sip of his drink, wincing almost imperceptibly at the scolding beverage. "You wanted to change your name. I knew you'd never ask her, so I thought I'd do it for you. You're welcome," he added as I opened my mouth, and I blushed, my enthused gratitude dying before I could speak.
"She agreed?" I asked eventually, lowering my gaze to the paperwork. There it was, for sure – her name scribbled on the dotted line, thick and dark, the anger palpable.
"She… Conceded," he corrected, leaning back a little, a cocky grin turning up the corner of his mouth. I raised an eyebrow silently, and he shrugged again. "Greased palms are usually the only encouragement people need."
"You paid her?" I clarified incredulously, blinking dumbly when he nodded. "How… Why? Why would you do that? Why does it matter so much to you?" Why do I matter?
Tony kept his gaze on mine, silently calculating. I broke first, looking away as my palms became clammy, feeling his stare probe even as I took a vested interested in the swirl of cream on my drink. "You matter, kid. You're an Avenger, remember? We look after each other."
Something shifted inside me, swelling and ebbing in equal measure. I was honoured, of course. I was just a child, and here was this genius, telling me I was important. But… "Is that all I am? An Avenger? A teammate?" I fought to keep my voice measured, but Tony arched a brow at the perceptibly clipped tone.
"Isn't that enough?"
I started to respond as frustration bubbled, but caught myself. "... Yes. Of course. Sorry, Mr. Stark."
Tony sighed, reaching into the infinite depths of the pockets in his jogging bottoms, pulling out another sheet of paper, this one worn thin where it had been folded and refolded endlessly, long fingers tapping the document lightly. "You're not 'just' anything, kid. But you're especially not just a teammate – not to me." He pushed his chair back, throwing back the remnants of his drink without reaction, despite the steam still curling from the mug. "And you can call me Tony."
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I sat peering into my cup long after it was empty, unfocused gaze staring through the line of powder congealing in the bottom while I scolded myself for my words. I was well aware of Tony's documented reluctance to let people close to him – pushing the way I had was akin to treason.
The papers he'd left lay under my hand, still folded, as engaged as I was in my own thoughts. It wasn't until a solitary tear rolled down my cheek that I drew myself back to reality, pulling the papers toward me with little interest.
New York State Office of Children and Family Services Application to Adopt
Adoption? Tony wanted to… Adopt me?
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I barrelled into his room without knocking, taking pause at the incredible view sprawled before me. My own bedroom was comparatively modest, relatively nondescript – as far as a bedroom could be in Stark Tower, at least – when viewed next to the floor-to-ceiling window that took up an entire side of Tony's sleeping quarters. I'd seen some incredible views as Spider-Man, but this insight into the city I'd grown up in was irreplaceable.
Shaking my head – I could marvel at the sights another time – I pivoted wildly, eyes scanning the darkness for a sign of Mr. Stark. "Did nobody teach you to knock?"
Turning, I held up the document, fingers shaking. "What is this?"
Tony took a long gulp from his stereotypical tumbler, sucking his teeth before replying. "Proof."
That stopped me, at least. "Proof?" I repeated, brow furrowing in a confused frown.
Tony nodded once, sitting at a sketching table tucked to one side, the soft glow of a worklight creating an aura around his body, and hiding his face. "That you're not 'just a teammate'."
Tears pricked at my eyes as he regurgitated my words with venom, and I recoiled from the blow. "I… I didn't mean to… That wasn't fair. I'm sorry."
He nodded once, fingering the edge of his glass, refusing to meet my gaze. "I've done my best, kid. I'm not always perfect, but-"
"You are, you-"
"Let me finish," he interrupted softly, looking up briefly to fix me with a stern stare. When I stayed silent, cowed, he continued. "I'm not always perfect, but I'm trying. This is unfamiliar territory for me, Peter. I'm gonna make mistakes, and say the wrong thing. And I'm not…" He huffed out a breath, scrubbing a hand over his face before standing, pacing before the window, his anxiety tangible. "My dad wasn't the sort of man who put any stock in talking about feelings. If I had a problem, he fixed it – or made it go away. I had everything I needed, everything I wanted, from a physical perspective. But feelings?" He shook his head, letting out an audible sigh. "Feelings are new to me. Pepper always said I have a heart, but it doesn't always feel like it. Sometimes I forget that not everything can be fixed – that people aren't machines. I want to fix things for you, Peter. And I want to be there for your emotions, too. I'm just… Still learning."
His speech left a heavy silence in its wake, punctuated only by the sound of flesh on bone as I chewed my lip. "I'm sorry," I offered weakly. "It was unfair to say that – especially when I already knew it wasn't true. You've done so much for me, Mr. Stark, and I shouldn't be so ungrateful."
Mr. Stark shrugged once, pausing in his paces. "I overreacted, kid. I'm not used to all this."
A flush crept up my cheeks, and I ducked my head in shame. "It's a lot. You don't… I don't expect you to keep me around."
He sighed, moving closer, discarding his now-empty glass on his bedside table – beside a half-drunk bottle of Jack. "Kid, you're stuck with me, okay? Whether we sign those papers or not, this is your home now, for as long as you want it. Nothing about who you are is going to change that, alright? So get used to it." He hesitated before tapping his fist lightly against my shoulder, his emotional discomfort tangible. "Now get to bed, Spider-Man. It's the middle of the night, and you have school tomorrow."
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muchamusedaboutnothing · 2 years ago
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Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 17
Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 17
Characters: Dean x doctor!Reader, Sam Winchester
This story is Act 7 of a saga.
New to the story? Get caught up on the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.
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All your favorite Winchesters are alive, in spite of the curse that nearly took them from you. After coming so close to losing the only family you have left in this world, you’re taking matters into your own hands. There’s a witch to hunt.
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Series Warnings:
Character injuries/sickness - Take note that no one is excluded from this.
Canon-typical violence and language.
Lots of whump.
Lots of caring for hurt characters.
Smut (18 Only. NSFW. You were warned.)
Angst.
Fluff.
Medical talk. Is that even a warning
Image Credit: bing image search, google image search
Wordcount: 2007
Author's Note: Merry Christmas! ;)
Chapter  17
Your return home had been everything you'd hoped it would be. The day passed quickly, as time often does when things are pleasant. After dinner, Addie announced she'd be flying out the next day. It was written all over her face that she hated to leave Sam, but she had work to get back to.
"I'm sure Jim and Cheryl will be happy to have you back," Dean said to her.
"We can't thank you enough for your help," you told her, giving her a hug. "We'll miss you. But we'll plan a visit down to see you soon."
"You'd better," she said with a smile.
Sam was putting on a pretty brave face, considering he was probably pretty tore up about her leaving. It broke your heart a little for him, and you weren't surprised when he and Addie decided to turn in early to enjoy their last night together.
You gave Jonah a bottle while Dean took a shower. Then you and Dean bathed him together and read him books in the nursery until he fell asleep in your arms. Once he was settled in his crib, it was your turn for a shower.
Spending so much time in the bunker throughout your pregnancy and since Jonah had been born had spoiled you, and your brief stint in a dingy motel room had been just enough to make you appreciate a nice, long, hot shower at home once again.
When you walked back into the bedroom wrapped in an oversized towel, you found that Dean had brought some things from the infirmary to help you get fresh bandages put on.
"You be thinking about where I can take you for that fancy dinner I still owe you," Dean said as he helped you tape a clean gauze square in place on your side.
You considered him for a moment. "You know, I may just let you surprise me."
Dean quirked an eyebrow and his tongue peeked through his teeth a little. "I can make that happen."
He helped you put a new bandage around your thigh next, and then you leaned back against the headboard. "Do we have to wait till I'm all healed up to celebrate in other ways?" you said coyly, sliding your fingers beneath the bottom of his t-shirt to graze along his abdomen.
Dean bit his bottom lip and looked you up and down. You hadn't had sex since Jonah was born, and even though the recommended time had passed since then, you'd been too busy trying to keep your family intact to do much else.
"God, that's tempting," Dean said, his voice a little wrecked. "Are we okay to do that now? With you wounded?"
"Well, I was going to let you do most of the work, Winchester, but if you're not up to it … " You slid your hand south to cup him through his jeans.
"Hey, hold on now. I never said that," Dean argued. "Besides, there is nothing about having my hands on your body that qualifies as work."
You cupped him tighter, earning a sharp little gasp. Then you opened your towel, letting it fall backward.
He moaned, a deep rumble in his throat, and ducked down to cover your mouth with his.
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Your heart did a wonderful flip. You loved that Dean could still do that to you. Make your heart swell and heat flush in your cheeks. He continued to kiss the everloving hell out of you, releasing your mouth only briefly to gently coax you down flat on the bed.
You closed your eyes shut tight for a second to enjoy the feel of his lips on your skin as he trailed a path from your lips down along your throat and collar bone.
“It’s been so long,” you whimpered. It wasn’t like you to sound so needy, desperate. And while he didn’t answer with words, it was obvious Dean needed this as much as you did. The two of you had been through so much together recently.
You wanted to be as close to him as possible right then. To have his hands remind you how well he knew every inch of your body. To have his lips worship you like you were something to be cherished. You just needed him.
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His fingers brushed along your skin, going around the bandage on your side and pausing to rest at the dressing covering the bullet wound on your thigh.
"I'm going to be proud of those scars," you said to him, the corner of your mouth tugging up in a smile.
He sat up a little, resting his weight on one elbow as he leaned over you to gaze at your face adoringly. "Not as proud as I am. And sweetheart, you've never looked so damn beautiful.”
And just like that Dean made you feel comfortable and sexy in your own skin, despite the fact that your body was still softer than you were used to. Every touch made it clear that he appreciated what you'd been through, both in carrying the baby and in your recent battle with the witch and demons to protect your family.
Dean quickly shed his own clothes. Propped up on one elbow, he stretched out next to you on the bed. With one hand between your legs, he kissed your mouth while his fingers mercilessly teased you into oblivion.
Dean always had this way of knowing exactly when to pull back long enough for you to suck down a breath of oxygen, but not so long that you had a chance to miss the taste of him on your tongue.
He slipped a finger inside you then, moving slowly but deliberately before adding a second finger. He continued to kiss you while massaging you from the inside out from every angle imaginable. He took his time, and the moments stretched out, languid, hot, torturous in the best ways.
When he added his thumb to the mix, caressing that bundle of nerves in your center, you felt your thighs tremble with anticipation.
"Dean … " you breathed as he swallowed up his own name from your lips.
"Just," he whispered before he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth. "Let … " He kissed the little V in your top lip. "Go…." His tongue flicked gently along the roof of your mouth while his fingers pistoned in and out of you across the ridge of your G-spot, causing pleasure to burst behind your eyes as your muscles clamped down powerfully around him with the force of it.
He leaned back just far enough to let you breathe through your orgasm, fingers gently working you through it.
Your head was light, your tongue heavy. You couldn't have formed words if you'd tried. But Dean didn't require words to know exactly what you needed.
He tucked his head down to nuzzle at your breast, tongue swirling around your nipple, teeth gently flicking over the tip and causing heat to quickly pool in your center again.
Your hand went to the back of his head, nails teasing at his scalp while you encouraged him to continue the assault with that glorious mouth of his.
His fingers began curling and stroking inside of you again as her continued to wake and soothe all the little nerve endings that might have been traumatized during the delivery, and before you knew it he was drawing more wetness from you than you'd have thought possible.
When he covered your mouth with his own again, you realized he was only just getting started.
He scissored you open with two fingers, working in a complete circle so as not to neglect any part of you. When he was satisfied with that, he lightly nibbled on your bottom lip while adding a third finger inside you.
He continued to massage you with his fingers, stroking, pumping, flicking, grazing. Your eyes were shut tight as you tried to take in all the sensations at once.
Dean gently nudged you onto your left side to protect the injury in your right thigh and your waist on the same side. He settled himself directly behind you, easing your legs apart and resting one over his hip.
As he eased himself into you from behind, he was gentle and attentive, lighting your nerves up in ways that made you feel alive like nothing else could. He took his time, letting you wiggle back onto him slowly so as not to do too much too fast.
You were grateful he'd done so much to prepare you for him, and after a moment he was fully seated within you. The two of you lie there for a few seconds, just breathing together and enjoying the feeling of being so inextricably connected.
"I've missed having you inside me, Winchester," you breathed.
His lips tickled the tender skin on the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss there. "Feels like home, sweetheart."
His palm cupped your breast, gently kneading your flesh, fingers plucking at your nipple. When his hips starting rocking gently, the pleasant drag of him along your core had your breath catching in your throat.
"God, you feel so good," he groaned. His teeth dragged languidly across your shoulder blade, lips kissing your skin like he couldn't stand to keep his mouth off of you for more than a second.
He recognized the change in your breathing as a sign that you were getting close again. He continued the pattern, using his hips to angle a little deeper as he continued to drag along your nerve endings, lighting you up from the inside.
When you began to tremble he nuzzled your neck, whispering, "Come for me. I've got you."
Three strokes later and you found yourself clenching around him as your body tried impossibly to pull him closer, further inside you while waves of pleasure rushed over you.
"That's my girl," Dean said, thrusting slowly as you rode out the pleasure. "Damn, sweetheart. You feel incredible."
A light sheen of sweat now covered your skin, and your heart thrummed beneath your ribcage like a little bird trying to escape.
Dean continued moving in and out of you, the head of his cock dragging pleasantly right where he knew you liked best. He knew every inch of your body, having made it his life's goal to continue finding new ways to open you up, set you on fire. Tonight was no different.
His hand slid down between your legs again, finding just how wet you still were; evidence of just how receptive your body was to him. He gently rubbed at your clit, and you jerked a little in surprise at the feel of him there again, but you breathed into the sensation and relaxed against him as he continued to stroke you.
Dean's fingers, along with the way he was pleasantly dragging in and out of you with practiced precision, were the perfect combination. He stoked another fire in you that wouldn't be satiated. Your breath caught in your throat as the orgasm tore through you with such force it made the others seem like ripples before a tsunami.
You were still clenching rhythmically around Dean when he curled around you from behind, muscles bunching with the intensity of his own release.
He pulled out afterward and nudged you onto your back again, resting his head on your chest, ear pressed where he could hear your heart beating frantically after your orgasm. He cherished the sound as it slowed.
You casually ran your fingers through his hair, floating in blissful content.
After a moment, his gruff voice broke the silence. "Doc?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
You looked down at him in surprise, but couldn't see his expression with the way he was nuzzled into your chest. "For what?"
"For coming back to us."
Your throat was suddenly tight with emotion at the sentiment. You pressed your palm to his stubbled cheek and kissed the top of his head fervently.
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Act VII Masterlist.
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cjstockton · 1 year ago
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Part Three: The Diner
‘I don’t want to get back in the car.’
I poked my scrambled eggs and took another swig of my coffee. The eggs had a greenish tint I wasn’t sure about. Normally I would have risked it, but the idea of being sick on this car ride did not appeal to me.
‘I don’t want to get back in the car either. Unfortunately we don’t have another option. The jet’s at the repair shop.’
Jakob stabbed at his pancakes with a good deal more anger than they deserved. He’d drowned the whole stack in maple syrup, slathered each slice with a grotesque amount of butter, and was now dolefully hacking at it with his fork.
I smacked his hand.
‘Don’t act like a baby, Jesus. It’s embarrassing.’
‘You’re embarrassing.’
‘Good one.’ I gave up on the eggs and started in on my toast. I was fairly sure it wouldn’t kill me. 
Jakob took a bite of the soggy mess he had made. His face was drawn and pale.
‘Eat up. It’s a long drive ahead of us. We’ve got another three days at least.’
‘You said two days.’
‘I’m not good at math.’ Jakob takes a minute to absorb this.
‘Why is your car so shitty, anyway?’
‘Stop cursing.’
‘You curse!’
‘I’m 24, I’m allowed to curse.’
‘Where are we even going?’
I signaled the waiter for more coffee. 
‘One question at a time. We’re going to see an old friend of mine. He’ll set me up with a job, and we can stay with him until things are sorted.’
‘Was he your boyfriend?’ Jakob made a face at the idea. I snorted.
‘No. He’s very old.’
‘You’re old.’ I smiled despite myself.
‘Even older than me.’ We ate in silence for a minute. I looked around the diner. It was antiseptically clean, which was something of a pleasant surprise.
‘And you’re a mechanic?’ I chew some toast to buy myself some time.
‘Sort of.’ Jakob squinted at me. I looked at my plate.
‘How can you ‘sort of’ be a mechanic?’
‘I work on cars sometimes. Other times I do other stuff. Bartend. Waitress.’ Credit card fraud. Petty theft. Grand theft auto. Identity theft.
‘So like, a part time mechanic? Then why does your car suck?’
‘It’s old. Like me.’ I tried out a smile. He hunched over his plate
There was an awkward lull.
‘So, what do you like to do?’ 
‘Are you serious?’ Jakob asked around a mouthful of pancakes.
‘What?’
‘You don’t even care.’
He was right. I didn’t. 
Instead of answering, I leaned over the table and grabbed a heaping forkful of the pancakes. Between the syrup and butter they had devolved into a sort of mush. I jammed the fork into my mouth, chewed vigorously, then showed the contents to my little brother. He recoiled in horror. 
‘You are so gross, Frank.’
The waiter pouring my fresh cup of coffee paused.
‘Frank?’ he asked, amused. 
‘It’s a nickname,’ I lied.
What can I say. My parents were expecting a boy. They were terrified they’d only be able to have one child, and had promised my grandfather they’d name a kid after him. 
The fact that they had six boys after me is probably a metaphor for something.
I’m pretty pissed off that I got named after an old coot that by all accounts was a racist, bigoted prick. My parents probably hoped he’d leave them something in his will. But there was nothing for him to give, a legacy he passed down to me. 
Jakob, on the other hand, is surprisingly good with money. 
I don’t know how my parents found me, 11 years and hundreds of miles later, but they’d laid the guilt on thick and steaming about blowing out of town. It was bullshit, but it still worked. 
I hadn’t been home for over a decade, and now I would never go back again.
I’m still not sure how I feel about that.
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nnmarudkar · 1 year ago
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A Dream I 'Oversea'...
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Social media has laid a red carpet to most of your problems that web around your head. Every time I go on my social media account nowadays, I see one person leaving the country. Well done. Some or the other is settling outside giving me that FOMO. Get out without speaking. SSSHHHSSSHHH! I feel too far from this and jealous people. How does this happen? Hence I scroll down faster to ignore all this intentionally. But then that story or reel pops up. I may be jinxing it entirely for you for the good and for the worse. 😄 Well that does not mean I think bad of you. Jokes apart. Please have a great life and make good out of it. Change is not just constant but it is good and so empowering. Alone is wonderful at some intervals to revisit yourself. And being alone in a different country is splendid and rejuvenating. It is amazing without an elder who has 'seen more rains' or the 'world than you'. It is amazing how you make a shift and upgrade at all levels; personality, professionally, monetarily, psychologically and atmospherically. It is one of the milestones that suggest you have grown.
I miss doing all this. I think the ship sailed, the train left and the bus drove off. But…
Dear Friend,
You must be in good health and status there. I see a lot of beautiful pictures under happy skies on green lawns, cloudy cliffs and saintly serene rivers with exotic looking food across diverse cuisine. I surely want to know the experience. Experience of visiting a new location and meeting new people from various other countries. How does your friend list look? How does it feel to be on your own? Back home people look at you with utmost respect. Everybody is proud of you. Your family, relatives, neighbours, street, city, state, country, the sky, the moon, the sun and the universe. What is your heart's expression? Is it overwhelming or relaxing?
How does it feel to stay away from home? How is it to do everything on your own? I am sure it started hand to mouth but even that had a quality of life. Absolutely not easy, I understand. But isn’t it a ‘look I achieved it’ moment at times?
It has to be a great walk on clean roads, inhaling fresh air, walking past the well mannered population and having people not look at what you are wearing. They do not spit, cough and throw things just like that. It is a beautiful strolling experience. Refreshing or depressing after the first few days? Your people are curious to talk to you ‘What is happening there, what did you make, how do you travel, how easy are you now with the new place etc,. Motivational, right?
They are glowing here with your self made attitude there. They flaunt your city’s gifts here. I know you have had a ride to choose it for them. Did they expect it from you?
Isn't it still a beautiful feeling buying them souvenir? They take pride in telling people you stay in whichever country.
Here people do not expect much from us. We are now what they want us to be and do. We are in the ‘the sad generation with happy pictures’ zone here. We struggle on wet and gross roads, footpaths just not for a walk, AQI falling to new lows as low as the billboards and hoarding about to fall on our heads and the highlight is yet we say ‘I love this city.’. Because the fact is we have nowhere to go. Which is out of no choice. ‘We’ are not all of us. But some of us who just thought one day our futures will take us across the seas and give us a better life. How big fools were we. We were meant to see people spit and walk on that mucus. Because we were not as fabulous and courageous as you. We weren’t as intelligent and sharp as you. But above all we just failed to realise our fates. How typically our fate was written and unsupportive in lifting us up. We failed to understand us.
Tell me, do you feel lonely there? Sure you might be. We are lonesome here in the crowds. You have had your moments, definitely.
Do you love cooking or have transformed into lazy bone ordering or eating junk everyday. I am so certain that you have learnt cooking and enjoy it like therapy at times.
And do not give me that nonsensical debate of ‘it's not easy’, ‘we have had to go through a lot’, ‘worked hard to reach here’ etc. We know how it must have been for you. However, the grass is always green on the other side. And amongst all the happiness there is an urge to pretend discomfort. And yeah, this city definitely does not call your heart back, which is why you are enjoying it there. So do not tell us you have hard times. The country will run for you if you are in trouble and may give you a rose and special treatment when you come back. We will not see that ever. So today living our life here is not like it was when you left the country. We trade our respect in return for sanity and money. After all, we still have to deal with dirt and indiscipline.
Does the mind feel free and decluttered? Does it have a lot of other burdens or exploring a life at once?
I suppose be thankful enough that all those toxic energies are kept away from you by fate and your will. It is a roller coaster when your critic stands right beside you. They surprisingly become your well wishers when you are away. Stay away and stay enlightened.
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gnattyplayssims · 1 year ago
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1946 Pt2 - Finding Forgiveness
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Autumn was coming once again to Evergreen Harbor and as the air began to turn crisp and the leaves began to brown, Kye took the ferry to Port Promise alone. It felt like forever since he'd really been outside and he took in the fresh air with a satisfied breath.
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"Thanks for meeting me here Knox. Getting into port was hard enough."
"Don't even worry about it. Kailee has things she needs me to pick up anyway"
Kye let out a relieved breath.
"We're putting a ramp into the new place, next time we'll find a way to get you there."
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Kye nodded trying not to think about the effort they were putting in on his behalf.
"Hey what's going on? Why the long face?"
"I'm fine."
"Don't give me that. You're mopeing. What's on your mind?"
Kye sighed, "I miss Anabelle."
"So ask her out."
"Even after she lied?"
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"Yeah. Anabelle told a pretty big lie...and I cheated, Kye."
"I don't think I can do what Kailee did."
"Let me tell you something, Hezekiah. When we came home, I didn't know how I fit into Kailee's life. She had every right to leave but she didn't and it changed everything"
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"I still don't get it"
"Kye, I consider you my best friend and I know there's nothing that makes you happier than when she's by your side. She doesn't deserve forgiveness, neither did I but if you can work through it? There's nothing sweeter."
"Can...you show me where to start?"
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Kye was listening to Anabelle's radio show when she entered the room. "Do you really have to listen to that?"
"It's not that easy for me to turn it off. Or close the blinds when the sun's in my eyes."
She sighed and crossed the room to get the blinds and he took her hand gently.
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He pulled her down to sit on the floor between his legs "What are you doing?"
"You've done so much for me in the last 2 years, I want to take care of you for once."
"You don't have to do that. I'm still upset with you."
"I know...so am I. but I'm trying."
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He lowered the brush and ran his fingers through her hair. "When Sofia disappeared that morning...It was torture sitting here, waiting, with no power to help"
Anabelle wrapped her arm around his leg forgetting that he couldn't feel it. "Oh Kye, I didn't even think about that."
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"I knew it would be hard physically. Learning how to do normal things again...needing help to put on my own socks. I wasn't prepared for the emotional toll. And everytime I think about what I've lost with Sofia."
"I'm so sorry Kye."
His hands dropped away from her. "I know."
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He leaned down over her and she felt dizzy. "I'd really like to kiss you now, if that's okay."
She pulled back searching his eyes but he had them closed as he kissed her forhead, dropping the brush in her lap. "Kye?"
"Please say yes."
"No. Not until you look me in the eyes."
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She turned to face him. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you've truly forgiven me."
"Only if you can promise me there are no more secrets."
"None. You know everything."
"Then I forgive you. But please...don't ever keep something like that from me again."
"I won't."
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He leaned forward to bury his face in her neck inhaling the scent of her hair and skin. "I forgot how amazing you smell."
"Maybe you just never smelled me with clean hair."
"That could be it." He slipped off the couch and into her lap nuzzling her neck and ear gently.
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Her breathing became labored as his mouth moved towards hers, lingering, their breaths mingling but their lips not touching, "What's wrong?"
"I still feel so angry."
"Why?"
"I know I'll just disappoint you. Being with me-"
"Stop it! It'll be different, but different's okay."
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She helped him get back onto the couch then climbed on top of him running her fingers through his hair and then cupping his face in her hands. "Kiss me Hezekiah."
And he did, pulling her as close to him as space would allow tasting her for what felt like the first time.
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"This feels so right." She sighed.
"Does it?" He leaned forward so she tipped off the couch. She squeeled and clung to his neck laughing. "You know what I think?"
"Hmm?"
"You kiss different when you're hiding something. You won't ever be able to keep a secret from me again."
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He pulled her down with him as he lay down on the couch and she rested her head on his shoulder. "This brings me back. All those nights in the tent when you would lay beside me and I would hold you in my arms. We didn't need anything more back then just each other's warmth."
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He rolled her over and they kissed again unable to get enough of each other until finally she pulled away. "I do have one more secret"
"What is it?"
"That first night you let me sleep in your tent...I knew there was no one else for me. It was never just about the warmth for me"
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She traced his check bone and then turned around so she couldn't see his face. "I want to woohoo again."
"What? Anabelle you know I can't."
She swallowed nervously. "Stop saying that. Of course it won't be the same but...I know you can make me feel the way you did before."
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She helped him to the bedroom and took off her clothes, climbing on top of him.
"I don't know what you want from me?"
"Your mouth seems to work just fine"
His mouth found her chest and he'd never tasted anything so heavenly. She pulled off his shirt and he moaned at her touch.
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He buried his face in her chest again enjoying her softness and she squeezed his wrist encouragingly. Her fingers traced the scars on his back as she pressed nearer.
"See, you'll always be man enough for me."
They didn't seperate until the kids returned from school.
1947 Pt1 - Now I See the Light
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kawaixkissex · 7 months ago
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Chapter two
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My body was so tense, I guess that I didn’t need an alarm to wake me up. At five, i’m awake, might as well help Mrs Kim in the kitchen, or the many helpers they have. I’m not accepted as a part of this family yet, and I know that, so even though it’s a new day, I feel like the same old Ruhaani from my mother’s house. I’d have to change that, if I want to be a new person that is not my mother’s good girl.
Giving myself a tedtalk, I slip out of the bed, only to gasp, when i look at namjoon’s side of the bed. It’s empty. Does he leave so early for work, or maybe he’s just avoiding me because he provably doesn’t want a trophy wife.
Well…that’s good for me, as long as he stays away from me. Maybe he doesn’t want to act like an animal with me, that explains the gentleness from yesterday and today.
I decide to take a bath, get ready and help my mother in law in whatever she is doing for the day. She seemed to like me, so perhaps I can develop a bond with her. I know i’m keeping my hopes high, but my disappointment scale has reduced to nothing, since my mother didn’t leave me any choice but to expect disappointment.
I wear my favourite red saree that heer gifted me on my wedding, it’s a beautiful one, with black lace, intricate floral patterns, she said that it suits my personality. I walk down the stairs to find my mother in law humming to herself as she cleans the already pristine shelves.
“mother.” i address her, walking towards her, bending down to seek her blessings. This time, i touch her feet properly, because she deserves respect from me.
“omo, come here, my ttal.” she hold me by the shoulders, then grips my hand, and takes me with her into the kitchen. There’s a sweet smell spreading into the entire kitchen. “look! I prepared something for you, for your first day in my house as my daughter.”
She opens the lid of a pot that is on the stove. Fresh, and sweet smell of kheer spreads throughout the kitchen. She keeps a hand behind my back, then guides me to sit on the stool.
“I read about Indian culture, and i know that the daughter in law prepares this, but I couldn’t resist to make some kheer for you, hope you like sabudana kheer.”
She scoops some of the kheer in a small bowl, and gives it to me. Then, she takes one bowl for herself too, and sits besides me. “have a taste, and tell me, how it is, did I do well?” she looks at me with puppy eyes, i can’t help but be drawn to her. She’s so sweet. If my mother was in place of her, she’d have given me a good scolding and thrown me some insults too.
I scoop a spoonful into my mouth, the sabudana’s are soft, they melt on my tongue, leaving a sweetening taste and a soft sensation behind. I grin, and look up. She already has a big smile on her face. She’s so kind to me, i promise to myself to repay the kindness back to her trillions times, even if I have to rebirth myself.
“it’s good, isn’t it? Have some more,” she says, then pushes one more bowl next to the one i’m already eating from. I almost choke, trying to gobble it all at once, because it’s too good and i want to please her by finishing the other one.
“slowly, slowly, sarang.” she pats my back, rubbing it slowly, her touch feels so warm, and comforting. I feel like a starved puppy hungry for more affection and attention.
I eat happily, and smile at her with my mouth full. She scurries away with a happy smile. My mother in law reminds me of the days when I dreamt of having a mother who loved me, cherished me, and wanted to spend as much as time with me as she possibly could.
I finish the two bowls of kheer and place them in the sink, washing them, and keeping them in the utensil rack. My phone vibrates with an incoming call. Heer’s beautiful face flashes on the screen. “hello my heera!” I am in happy mood, so heer’s reply is a cheerful hey.
“how is first day of marriage, hani?” judging by her tone, i know she’s squealing and giggling inside. “stop it, you naughty girl, nothing happened, and stop asking such questions, it’s I appropriate!”heee giggles, then asks me seriously.
“my mother in law is very kind to me, she’s sweet, and i didn’t get to greet namjoon in the morning, he’d already left for work before i woke up.” she hums.
Then, a loud screeching saanjh screams my name into the phone. “how are you, Ruhaani. I miss you already.” I know she’s doing the grabby hands to the phone right now.
“I miss you too, my munchkin.” I giggle, we talk a bit about each other’s lives, and then I disconnect the call, before heer can run her mind any further.
I don’t have anything to do, since my mother didn’t really taught me anything, nor did she enroll me in any classes, saying that I have to be a trophy wife one day.
It was disappointing to hear that, i don’t ever want to be like her.
I spend the rest of the day with mr lee, our driver giving me a tour of the mansion, and then me sleeping my day off.
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timotheechlamett · 3 years ago
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GOOD BOY
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contains: graphic smut, angst, sub x dom dynamic, fluff, ass-play.
___________________________________________________
It was a cold winter night, the snow had just stopped falling, blanket of pure and untouched white covered everything in sight.
Timmy was poking the fire we started, as I sip on a glass of wine watching him in adoringly, everything he did I was in awe of- even after years of being with him. Now 24 and him 25, it's going on 5 years and I couldn't imagine myself with anyone else.
"Timothée Hal." I call out almost scolding him as he begins reaching for lighter fluid.
"Don't you even dare, we don't need a house fire!" I give a warning look only to receive a devious smile back.
He squirts a small amount into the fireplace as the flames consume the fresh wood inside.
"See, I didn't burn anything down." He gives a proud grin, I giggle holding my arms out waiting to embrace him.
He grabs the wine bottle and makes his way over to me, filling both of our glasses back up. I play with the soft curls framing his face as I continue sipping the red liquid.
"Mmm that feels nice." He closes his eyes in bliss as I massage his head.
His quiet moan bringing other thoughts of what would feel nice to my head. I crawl on top of him letting my hand glide underneath his shirt, kissing his neck.
"That feels even better." He lets out hushed.
I start at his pulse point, leaving a trail of wetness to his collar bone, sucking gently. I grind my hips on his growing member making him moan out a little louder.
He looks up at me with lustful eyes, sitting up to come close to my face. His hands run up my thighs as I tangle my fingers in his locks.
"Take care of me, please." He almost whispers leaving his lips parted slightly.
"Tell me how you want it." I softly lay him down hovering over him, still grinding my hips onto him.
"Don't be nice." As soon as the words leave his mouth I flip my switch, I grab the sides of his jaw.
"Take your clothes off." I demand releasing my grip on him, watching him hurriedly take his clothes off.
"Now undress me." I raise myself off the couch as he begins to remove my shirt and pants, until he reaches for the clasp of my bra.
"Slowly." I pull his hair making his head tilt up at me.
He closes his eyes a small whimper leaving him as I let go. He starts unclasping my bra, discarding it to the floor, then moving to my panties- sliding them off slowly.
I run a hand through his hair, pushing his head down so he's on his knees. I get back on the couch spreading my legs, leaning back.
"Taste me." I spit, he crawls over on all fours now gripping the sides of my thighs.
He lowers his head pressing his tongue against my sensitive bundle, making me throw my head back in pleasure. He begins moving his tongue in and out of me, gently sucking on my clit as he does.
"Just like that-" I moan out gripping his hair, "Finger me."
He lets out a moan and does as told, slipping a finger inside while continuously licking me, then another- hooking them both upward. It only took a few seconds for the familiar pressure to build up inside me, my legs begin to shake.
"Fuck don't stop-" I breathe out, the sounds of my wetness filling the room as I release onto his hands and mouth.
"Clean your plate." I watch as he hungrily laps up the rest of my juices, the sight almost making me climax again.
"Good boy." I coo, "Do you want me to make you feel good?" I join him on the floor.
"Please-" He whines, I take his rock hard dick in my hand stroking just the tip. His moans already flooding my ears.
"Beg like the little bitch you are." I stop stroking, bringing my face close to his again.
"Please fuck me, oh my god- please." He whimpers with his eyes closed, his pre-cum dripping down his shaft.
I turn him to sit leaned up against the couch as I climb on top of him, I rub the tip of him on the entrance of my opening- he throws his head back letting out a sigh.
"Tell me what you want baby-" I continue rubbing his head on my pussy.
"Please sit on my dick, I want to be inside you so fucking bad." Anticipation all over his face as he cries out over me slowly sitting down on him.
Balancing with one arm I grind my hips moving up and down tauntingly, bringing my free hand to his throat for more leverage. His eyes roll back as his uncontained moans ring through my ears, a beautiful sound.
"You like that?" I take him inside of me completely moving up and down faster.
"Fuck-" He moans, "Harder." He grunts out, I grip his neck tighter now unable to contain my own moans.
"Who do you belong to?" I moan into his ear, bouncing as fast as I can on him.
"Fuck Y/n, I'm all yours, you're gonna make me cum." He grips my hand making me squeeze even tighter, I feel myself reaching another climax.
I bring my index finger down to his ass, sticking the very tip in, almost immediately he reaches his climax, yelling out my name over and over. I feel his warm cum leaking out of me along with my own wetness dripping down his shaft and thighs, finally I reach my high with my legs shaking violently.
"Oh my god Timmy." I moan out riding out my orgasm, he watches me intently.
"That..was fucking incredible, and that thing you did-" He cracks a smile pulling me in for a passionate kiss.
"I knew you'd like it." We both stay in each others embrace, catching our breath.
"I think we should clean up." He laughs peppering my face with light and loving kisses.
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muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago
Note
Can you write overprotective long hair harry imagine?? Like he always hovers the reader when she is doing something or even nothing. Or when she needs to run errands he always go with even though its not required. And when reader fell sick he is full on mommy daddy mode dom!h vibes
A/N: OOPS I GOT EXCITED AND WENT OVERBOARD WITH IT :D
Harry’s awfully sweet. He’s a literal sweetheart with those marble sepia eyes, hazelnut curls and that big golden kind heart of his's.
But, to people he’s intimidating. From the black loiter of tattoos, a silver of piercing to the corner of his plush bottom lip and those long curls of his's that frays his broad strong shoulders turns everyone too giddy to talk to him and he's okay with that – bunch of loosers anyways whom he doesn’t want to waste his time on chit-chatting.
Then Y/N came into his life and his world flipped upside down, in a beautiful way (where he felt like floating into the crashing waves of crystal sea). It felt like she made him see the world through pink heart-shaped glasses and everyone’s just bursting into rainbows, puffaw! Boom! Their heads blasting with colourful confetti and ribbons.
Even though his slight grouchiness towards people lessened he still doesn’t gives two fucks before punching the shit out of someone if they in any way hurts, be rude and try to take physical and emotional advantage of, Y/N.
His bunny.
He’s too protective of her. And why wouldn’t he? She’s his everything. His little miracle and his hype-person, his lovie.
He’s the softest peach for her. The guy who walks and everyone scrambles away to give him a way, is whipped for his girlfriend.
He’s always having his strong arm looped around her waist when they’re out and walking, going to hold her hands instead if she’s too wiggly, keeping her close to his chest while he holds their coffees and sweets.
Whenever they’re doing grocery he’s always wheeling the cart around how much Y/N insists and pouts, he likes it that way. Hearing her blabber and skim her eyes down the ingredients labelled on the products then tossing it anyway with a shrug – makes him want to smooch her wet in kisses.
If they’re partying out with friends. Which they rarely do, (Y/N sometimes makes fun of them saying they’re getting too domestic day by day) he’s always having her put in his lap, his screwed up expression lazing when the alcohol starts to kick in and he’s just a blubbering mess of nonsense, and a very horn dog with his cock bloating up in his tight skinny jeans.
Not that he doesn’t let her have a breather and enjoy herself. He indeed does, they’ve a healthy relationship where they keep trust and faith in eachother.
But, sometimes he gets super jealous when people steal his little girlfriend away from him and once home he’s cuddling and oodling her, kissing her face all over with loud smacks and not letting her be away from him another second even it’s too bring him water or to get rid of his smelly socks.
Other times. When he’s particularly very jealous. The serious ones where Y/N unintentionally spends a tad more time at some of her classmates to wind up their upcoming project, he’s driving himself to pick her up and knocking at the door harshly and then dragging her out of there not letting her carry her stuff and huffing and puffing while throwing her things in the backseat.
Because Jeremy’s a sore rascal who’s shit at hiding his crush for Y/N and he should know better to whom she belongs. His innocent baby is too naive towards the possible hints and evil intentions of people.
“Oi. What got into you today?” She brushes the loose curl that escaped from his bun and let her fingers slide down his tight set angry jaw staring him a bit concerned upon seeing him this furious and ruffled up from nowhere.
“You’re mine,” Is all he'd respond. Smashing his lips against hers in a an ardent kiss and glide his palm down her ass to squeeze it and bring her closer grinning when she squeals into his mouth giving him a chance to slip his tongue in and kiss her deeper and sloppier.
“You’re a silly geese.” She giggles whisper into the mess of pecks and lock her elbows around his neck to give him an eskimo kiss.
“Watch y’mouth.” He glares her intensely loving the way Y/N gulps timidly bobbing her head.
“You’ll get a spanking today,” He always likes to warn her before hand. He wants her comfortable with him in every case and it’s downgrade monstrous to treat the person you love like a mean bitch out of blue -- so whenever she deserves a punishment he already announces her of it, warming her to the idea and giving her time to back away if she doesn’t want it.
“What did I’do now!” She whines and he nibbles onto his knuckle glancing her way in disbelief other hand on steering wheel, “What did y'do?” He asks her sternly. Spreading his palm over her thigh and squeezing it grimly.
“Did y'even care to look at the time, Y/N?” Oh boy. She’s in real trouble. Her name on his tongue never fails to turn her insides gooey and pause her heartbeat horribly. A red light for her to being bratty before she falls into the deep black dig of trouble.
Reaching home. He’s throwing her on the bed and demanding her to lay still on her tummy while he puts a pillow under her and spanks her bum sore with his rings imprinting her skin pink, though he never forgets to take care of her afterwards – putting a cool cream to soothe the burn and letting her sleep on his chest so she wouldn’t come in contact with the sheets as he kneads her asscheeks with gentle hands.
.
He could never have his hands to himself when she’s cooking and baking for them. Always, poking and prodding around having her head tucked under his chin, her embraced in his arms from back swaying them along to Hozier while she reads the recipe she wrote on one of the tiles.
“Stop!” She giggles, squirming in his arms when he blows raspberries against the dip of her neck and then creates growly noises biting and lapping into her skin, “You’re gonna burn our lunch!” She pressed her hips against his crotch to push him away and that warmed him more, delving his fingers more into her hips with a throaty groan.
“We could have a takeout.” His breath shuddery against her ear as he tries to pry the spatula away from her and kiss her grumpy whines down when the pots actually got burned, “I’ll wash and scratch them.” He’d assure picking her up and wrapping her legs around his hips and slipping his fingers in her hair to tug them and bring her mouth down against his’s to taste her.
“Wants to fuck you so bad, baby. My cock’s been weepy fo’ hours without your touch.” He groans, taking her hand and sneaking it inside his joggers to make her feel how stiff and erect he’s for her.
“I just gave you a blowie in the morning!”
“Blowie isn’t equivalent to fucking!”
.
“What y'readin,?” He scoots closer to her end of sofa with a smirk and towers over her trying to take a peek of whatever she’s reading with such intensity and then rake his warm palms up her calves to lay them over his thighs while he snuggles her wrapping a chonky blanket around them.
“Shhh baby girl, just want you to be more comfy.” He mumbles into her hair scratching his short nails against her scalp in soothing motions and watch her melt against his touch, eyes fluttering as she lurks dangerously to the verge of sleep.
“You always do that. Whenever the hot part’s about to come, you make me all sleepy.” She mutters laying her head against his clavicles gazing him up with hazy eyes, sighing in feign disappointment when he grins down at her in quite victory and gives her a sloppy kiss.
“What do y'need erotica fo’ baby? When your man’s the living walking momentum of sex.” He pouts, grazing his teeth down her neck and leaving a fresh hickey at her throat.
“That’s infact not, true. You’re such a cutie!” She beams up at him never failing to give him dancing butterflies in his stomach and he doesn’t admits it but he likes getting treated soft and gentle by his girlfriend.
“Such a shame. My own little love doesn’t find me sexy.” He grumps dramatically making her scramble hesitantly and turn to him in their tight embrace, cradling his face in her cold palms, “No. No. I find you sexy. I just don’t like sexualising you.” If Harry didn’t turn into a puddle before he indeed did now as he melted into her touch and kissed the inside of her hands lovingly.
“You’re sucha sap!” He whispers at her in fake offence and plant his lips against hers, patting her bum to make her hug him more tightly.
.
On cleaning and laundry day’s. He’s always helping her. As they scrub and mop the floors together, might fuck on them bubbly floors too if Harry’s lusty gaze remains on her spilling tits for too long.
“Thinks your floral bra needs a wash too, moppet.” His gradual attempts to lure her with his fingers stroking her thighs seductively always turns into a win when she nods shyly into his neck and let him have an easy access to her panties.
They’re always having a warm, full of essence bath together cleaning and washing the dirt off eachother after that.
Then sharing a cuppa tea while folding their clothes together on the bed and he’s always trying to tackle her into mattress when she laughs at his terribly folded clothes compared to her neatly binded ones.
“Your sucha menace,” He jests with his nose skewered up while he smacks her ass.
“Talk for yourself, Styles.” She retorts, tangling her knee around his waist and pulling him down into him. Puffing out relaxed breaths upon feeling safe and protected under his weight and Harry always smiles into the crook of her neck when she tries to cuddle him as if she wants to be his skin.
..
He’s the most daddiest when she’s drunk, sick or stressed.
Never letting her go out of his sight when she’s dancing on the floor with her friends. If some man even tries to approach her and breaths in her direction he’s sprinting towards her and pawing at her hips to situate her closer to him whilst blowing those potential guys off with a monotone expression.
“Harry! Do a lil dancey dance with me!” She giggles, making him sway with her and looking up at him with glassy floaty eyes.
“Bunny. ‘s late, time to go home.” He tells her, pinching her chin to plant his lips against hers and she squirms giving him a timid smile, “Okie. But I’ve to pee.”
“Me too!” Her friends chimes from behind her and Harry rolls his eyes playfully, gesturing all of them to follow him.
“C’mon you spies, not lettin’ ya’ll go alone.”
He waits for them outside the washroom while they do their business and he has his arms always splayed open for when his lovie comes back and he’s welcoming her in his embrace warmly with a sweet smile.
Dying with fond injecting in his every vein when she slurs and blabbers, “Home.”
Walking her up the stairs of their flat’s building is the most hefty struggle while she’s a sleepy, clumsy and giggly muck of doe gleaming eyes and swollen pretty lips drooling over Harry testing his patience while he makes her take one step at a time.
“Darling, bunny, just some mo' steps lovin’.” He coos at her, putting a firm hand under her bum and heaving her up into him so she doesn’t falls.
“Mhmmm you’re so pretty, daddy.” Harry’s head snaps in surprise as he stares down at her in adoring amusement and push her head under his chin while she slings her arms around his waist lazily.
Sometimes, she gets him so flustered he doesn’t know how to respond.
She whines and cries in dishevelment when Harry makes her sit on the cold marble counter and wipes her makeup off.
“I just wan’ to sleep!” She toes at his torso trying to push him away but he grabs it and tuts, glowering at her strictly, “You’re g'na complain in the mornin’. Sleepin’ with makeup makes ye' breakout remember?” When she still huffs and slumps giving him a hard time to clean her he’s pinching her chin and giving her a gentle jerk.
“Bunny. Stop with ye' battiness.” He grunts not letting his facade slip when she mewls stroking her cheek up and down his lightly stubble covered cheek softly.
“Else what? Y'never punish a sleepy bunny.” She smirks at him foppishly and lazily knowing damn well that one of thing Harry doesn’t do’s tease or punish her when she’s tuckered out and on the edge of sleeping on him.
“You don’t test me bratty woman.” She squeals when he takes hold of her panties to pull them down her legs, slapping her mound once discarding it in the hamper and he sighs when she’s already snoring lightly, slobbering his throat with her mouth parted comically.
After pattering her face with loving kisses he’s tucking her under the layers of blankets and letting her use him as her stuffie.
..
“Aw poor baby.” He mumbles, kissing her forehead when he finds her burning up against him and he’s quickly rummaging for thermometer from the night stand and the tissues he had stashed for emergencies.
“I don’t feel good,” His heart breaks when Y/N croaks out weakly and tries to crawl up his chest to stuff her face in his musky neck but her frail limbs gives out making her cry out.
“It’s okay bunny, ‘s okay. How but I make you some soup. Then y'take your medicines like a good girl of mine, then if your condition gets worse we’ll go to doctor, yeah baby?” He talks to her gently and sweetly, stroking her hair and peppering kisses to her temples.
“Just last bite, moppet.” Harry hovers the spoon infront of her and sighs when she shakes her head pushing his wrist away, “I’ll puke.” She sniffs blowing her nose harshly in the tissue .
“The bin’s right here, bunny.” He smoothens his hand down her spine putting the tray aside carefully to snuggle and comfort her as she cries softly against his chest.
“’M so sorry baby, you’ll be alright in the morning.” He couldn’t see her in such condition. It pulls and tugs at his heart so painfully he feels himself hurting.
“Oi. Why you crying, hmm?” He cups her cheek and makes her look at him as she skims her eyes away from him jn embarrassment.
“I —- You’re so caring and loving, treats me so good and it makes me c.. cr–-,” She hiccups finding it hard to breath and Harry rubs her back, whispering affinities in her ear making her finally sob, “Cry....” He chuckles softly pelting kisses upon kisses on her puffy eyelids, soaky dried up cheeks, her frowned up forehead, her wobbly chin and her nipping love bites down her chest then blowing raspberries at his own slick covering her skin making her giggle through her hiccups.
“I love you.” She whispers droopily, head lulling to his chest when the effect of medicine finally starts to kick in.
“I love you too, I want my healthy and happy bunny back.” He mumbles, inhaling a huge puff of her scent and squishes her lovingly.
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poledancingdinos · 2 years ago
Text
You’ve Got Me Hooked - Chapter 3
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Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Riley McKenzie)
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Sex work, Stripper, OnlyFans
Catch up: Series Masterlist
Taglist: @peaches1958​ @identity2212 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond​ @amberangel112​
A/N: If you want to be added or removed from my taglist, let me know!
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist
Sy
As payment for helping me move my stuff into the new apartment, I’m hosting a football night, something I haven't done since before I started living with Lisa. Somehow, I never realized all the little things I gave up for her. I love having the guys over. Luke is very much a slob when he lives alone and Jared doesn’t like making a mess that his wife will feel compelled to clean up despite his insistence that she let him do it. That woman is a Saint and always has been.
"So how has it been living with a girl as a roommate?” Luke asks. “Is it as painful as living with your ex?"
No, it isn’t painful at all except for the damn partial I seem to sport every time I catch a glimpse of her in those booty shorts she prances around in when she doesn’t realize I’m home. Okay, prancing is an exaggeration but it doesn’t make it any less distracting.
When I came in to meet Riley, I expected to find a selfish, self-absorbed princess that I would have to pretend to get along with out of desperation to finally have a place of my own again but instead I found a shy, reserved young girl who had to invite a stranger into her life just to make ends meet.
"Honestly at this point I don't know if I have a roommate or if I own a cat," I say around a mouthful of pizza.
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Jared laughs, passing me a fresh bottle of beer before twisting the cap off his own and throwing it into the bin across the room.
I raise my hand counting off the reasons on my fingers as I speak. "I never see her ‘cause if she’s home she's hiding out in her room. The only evidence that she is even around is the fact that she leaves food out for me from time to time and that I find her hair fucking everywhere. Then there’s the fact that she spends more time up at night than she does during the day."
I sound harsh but the truth is that I find all of those little things rather endearing.
"Sounds like a fucking dream to me,” Sam says. “You get all the perks of living alone with half the price."
"Nah,” Luke counters, shaking his head, “sounds to me like your apartment is haunted and you're actually living with a ghost. Do you even know what she looks like?"
Yes, I do. In fact, I can’t get her face out of my fucking horny head. 
"Yeah, I met her before I moved in and I've seen her cookin’ breakfast a few times on my way out to work but that's ‘bout it."
"Don't ya leave for work at like 5:30 AM?” Jared asks, pausing with his beer half raised to his lips. “Shit,” he shakes his head in disbelief, “you two really are perfect for each other. Who the hell cooks that early?" 
"Is she hot?"
Before I even have time to think about it, the pizza crust in my hand is flying across the room and hitting Luke on the side of the head.
"It don't fuckin’ matter if she's hot I'm not shittin' where I eat." Yes, Riley is most definitely hot — fucking gorgeous even — but I’m not about to admit that out loud.
"I wasn't asking for you, I was asking for me." The man wiggles his eyebrows at me and I hesitate to throw another piece of food at Luke but all that’s left on my plate is a chicken wing and I have no interest in cleaning barbecue sauce off the couch. 
"What's her name again?" Jared asks, pulling his phone from his back pocket.
I really don’t want them looking her up online but if I give in, there is a chance this conversation will move on to a safer topic.
"Riley McKenzie."
He types Riley’s name into his phone and there’s a moment of awkward silence as he scrolls through the results.
"What kind of modern woman doesn't have a Facebook profile? Does she use a nickname or something?"
I don’t let them see how relieved I am that he hasn’t found her and keep my attention on the game.
"I have no idea, you know I'm not into that shiet."
Sam’s phone dings and it seems to be the end of the whole roommate conversation. The sports announcer on the TV starts talking more excitedly, pulling the guys' attention back to the big screen. Jared stands, yelling as if the players on the field will hear him through the TV. When our team manages to score a touchdown, Luke and I join in the cheering and the two of them high-five each other. Meanwhile, Sam still has his ass in his seat, staring at his phone and Jared punches him on the shoulder.
"Bro, what the fuck, you just missed a fucking beautiful play!" 
"I'll catch it on the highlights later, right now I'm watching a stripper give another stripper a lap dance while drinking a shot from between her tits."
"Woah, I wanna get in on that." Luke extends his arm, beckoning Sam closer.
"Can't ya watch that later?” Jared complains, reluctantly moving from the middle spot and letting Sam slide over.
“I've had enough of hearing other guys jack off next to me to last a lifetime, don’t do it on my fucking couch,” I plead with them.
"This is live and it's probably gonna get shut do—" Both guys groan, their heads falling in disappointment.
"You were sayin'?" I ask with a smirk.
"TikTok doesn't normally let Razzy go live for all that long before she gets shut down. She mostly uses it as a way to boost the interest for her OnlyFans account. You gotta pay to see the real good stuff."
There are so many things about that sentence that I don’t understand but I don’t care enough to ask him to explain.
"Ya know, I'm pretty sure checking out strippers on the internet while in a relationship is just as bad as going to a club every Friday night." I lean back in my chair crossing my ankle over my other knee.
"Come on Sy, you know I don't keep secrets from my girl. We watch the videos together, it gets her off." Sam winks, sporting a proud grin like he thinks every man would be envious of him.
I look back at the television screen, seeing the timer in the corner tick down to zero, announcing the start of halftime. I pick up the remote, pressing the mute button before the annoyingly loud commercials start.
"Since you're paying for her account anyway, why don't you show us the videos that seem to be better than you at satisfying your girl." Luke sounds a little too desperate for a guy who’s most likely had four different women in his bed this month alone.
"Fuck you, I'm plenty capable of getting her off on my own but since you asked so nicely," he types something into his phone before turning the screen towards his right so Luke can see the video, "this is what I get to watch while my girl chokes on my cock."
I nearly spit out my beer, forcing myself to swallow before a coughing fit takes over. The three men on the couch look my way, wearing equal expressions of concern.
"You good man?"
I nod my head furiously, holding my hand up for Jer to give me a second. They keep their eyes on me and I know there is no way that I can brush this off. When my breathing steadies out, I tip my head to the phone which now lays forgotten on Sam's lap.
"That's her,” I blurt out without thinking and immediately regretting my words.
There’s a moment of confusion while Sam looks down at the girl on his screen. The focus of the camera is on her body as she dances on the pole in nothing but a red lace bodysuit but her profile is still fully visible.
I swallow the lump in my throat clarifying my statement. "That's Riley."
All three men are stunned silent for a second but of course, Luke has an unhelpful comment to break the tension.
"Oh shit! Sy's living with a porn star!"
"Stripper," I grumble, palming the back of my neck.
"Oh no, trust me, that video was tame. Her racy solo clips definitely count as porn and last month she was in Vegas trying out some new girl on girl shit too."
"Fuck, stop! I don't wanna know.” I throw my hands up, rising from my seat in a desperate attempt to escape the current conversation.
"Why not!” Luke calls after me. “This is epic you could fuck a porn star — that's the dream!"
I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Luke, no offence but if your biggest dream in life is to fuck a porn star, ya need to rethink your priorities."
"Be honest, when's the last time you got laid?"
I’m not particularly inclined to answer that question but I know my friend well enough to be sure he’s nowhere close to dropping the subject. Luke is like a shark and women are his blood. Not the best metaphor in the world but it’s pretty accurate. If he gets a hint of interest, he won’t let go and I’d rather he not make it his life’s mission to fuck Riley for the sake of being the first to do so. She deserves better — not that I think I’m a better choice, I just mean he’d take my attraction as competition. I lean back against the kitchen counter, grasping it with both hands until the edge is uncomfortably digging into my palms.
"Not since before I shipped off for the last time."
"Woah, really?" Jared exclaims, turning to face me with one arm over the back of the couch. He’s been my best friend since we were 14 years old when Jared transferred to my school. One of the things I like about him is the fact that he’s completely smitten with his wife and understands my desire to settle down one day rather than chase women like our other friends. He’s genuinely surprised by my answer but his tone isn't the least bit mocking.
"Lisa didn't exactly welcome me back with open arms,” I admit with a sigh. “Maybe I should have just cheated on her, at least then her anger towards me woulda been warranted."
He gets up from the couch, stacking all the dirty plates by the sink.
"We both know you would never do that. Just like we both know ya aren’t gonna make a move on Riley, are ya?"
At least Jared has my back.
“No, I’m not,” I say honestly. “She’s been cagey about her job since I moved in, I doubt she ever wanted me to even know ‘bout any of this. I’m not gonna bring it up and I still maintain that hookin’ up with her while we live together would be a bad idea no matter what the circumstances may be.”
I just have to pray I never see another one of those videos because I can barely keep my dick in check as it is. When she’s not wearing those damn shorts it’s tight fitting yoga pants that show off her curves in all the right ways and it’s fucking excruciating. So far, it’s taken every ounce of my focus to keep images of her from slipping into my mind when I take care of myself in the mornings.
A stripper. Shy, quiet, can’t even look at me when I’m shirtless, Riley, is a stripper. And a porn star, Luke's voice adds in my head. Fuck. I don’t know what to do with this information but all the little things I know about her seem to fall into place. How long did she expect this secret would stay hidden? More importantly, why am I hurt that she didn’t trust me enough to just tell me?
Chapter 4
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itsdanii · 4 years ago
Text
Rejecting you and regretting it
genre: angst to fluff
warnings: slight cursing, rude behavior (resolved), do message me if I forgot any.
ft. sakusa kiyoomi, tsukishima kei
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Sakusa Kiyoomi
you're not oblivious to the fact that kiyoomi is a very conscious person
that's one of the things you loved about him
he was hygienic and he always made sure that his health was his utmost priority
but one downside is that kiyoomi had the tendency to push people away because of his straightforwardness
you were used to it and in fact, you were one of those people he tolerated
but everyone has their bad days
and unfortunately for you, today was kiyoomi's and since you were always attached to him by the hip, he unintentionally snapped at you
what's worse is that he snapped at you the moment you confessed to him
"Omi!" you shouted happily as you entered the gymnasium, giving Komori a small wave before making your way to where Kiyoomi was sitting.
He looked at you with a frown. He wasn't wearing a mask since they were training awhile ago and only took a quick break. "Y/n, what are you doing here?"
You sat beside him making Kiyoomi grimace and slightly move away. You frowned at him, completely displeased at the action. "I just wanted to give you a visit. Plus, I have something to tell you."
You started to fiddle with your fingers nervously. You practiced your confession several times already but doing it seemed harder than you thought.
"What is it? Talk, I'm not in the right mood to socialize right now."
Out of panic, you quickly blurted out a rather loud, "I like you!" You immediately covered your mouth with your hand and stared at him wide eyed.
The other players looked at you with sympathy, knowing what's about to happen. Out of all days, you really had to confess today, when Kiyoomi was in a pissy mood after several fangirls pushed themselves against him this morning, not minding his personal space.
Kiyoomi stared at you with a serious expression before standing up. "I don't like you. Leave."
"But Omi.."
"You're irritating and you always bother me when it is clear that I don't want your company." He turned around and left you on the bench, your head casted down in humiliation.
You whispered a small sorry before running out of the gym with tears falling from your eyes.
For the next few days, you did your very best to stay away from Kiyoomi. You changed your route to school knowing that your usual route meant that you have to pass by his house. Even if you got scolded several times for being late, you did not stop.
You sat near the door so you can easily exit the room after class. You even stopped eating with Komori and Kiyoomi during breaks and lunch. Even your usual routine of visiting the gym during practices was stopped.
At first, Kiyoomi didn't mind. He knew that you'd come back in a few days just like you always did. You like him after all, right?
But when a few days turned into weeks, He started getting bothered. Why weren't you pestering him like always? Why did you stop visiting him? You said you like him, right?
It was the second week that Kiyoomi took action. He woke up extra early to wait for you infront of your house, aiming to confront you about your behavior.
When you went out, your eyes widened slightly upon seeing Kiyoomi waiting for you outside. He was wearing his face mask while staring at you intently, letting you know that he purposely waited for you.
You looked down and was about to walk pass him when you felt him tugging on your wrist. Your gaze snapped to his hand, not believing that he was indeed touching your skin.
"Sakusa?"
His eye twitched at the weirdness of you not calling him like usual. Sighing, he stepped a little closer to you, hand still holding your wrist to ensure that you won't run away from him.
"You're ignoring me," he said while eyeing you. "Why?"
You took your hand from him and furrowed your brows. "I'm just doing you a favor. I don't want to be a bother anymore. Isn't this what you wanted?"
"I-"
"It's fine, Sakusa. You don't have to force yourself to apologize just because you feel bad or obliged to."
He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I'm not apologizing because I feel bad."
"Then what? You're apologizing just to make fun of me? I know I said I like you but that doesn't mean that you have the right to-"
"You don't get it!"
At this point, you were both raising your voices. Some passersby were looking at you two weirdly, some even running as to not get caught up in the fight.
"Get what, Sakusa? Why don't you tell me so I can understand?!"
"I like you!" Kiyoomi exclaimed. "I... Fuck. I like you, okay? I wasn't in the mood when you confessed and I rejected you without thinking. I messed up. The moment I saw you walk out, I knew I fucked up real bad and I-"
"Om-"
"And I thought that you'd come back the next day to bother me again like usual. I wanted to apologize but my pride-"
You sighed as he continued to ramble. With fast movements, you stood on your tiptoes and encircled your arms around his neck to pull him down to you, kissing him over his mask.
When you let go, Kiyoomi was silent. His eyes were wide and you thought that you went over board. Panic made its way to your face as you try to find the words to explain.
"Sorry, I didn't me-"
This time, he was the one to cut you off. Kiyoomi took off his mask and bent down to kiss you on your lips. One of his arms snaked around your waist to support you while the other settled on your nape, angling you to him.
"Be my s/o."
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Tsukishima Kei
Everyone in Karasuno knew how much you like Tsukishima
In fact, you remind him everyday
You often give him fresh strawberries from the market and even bake him strawberry cake
Sometimes, you would put little sticky notes on his belongings and write some encouraging words like "you can do it", "I believe in you" or "take it easy!"
On his birthday, you even gave him a hoodie with a dino design (which he secretly loved)
There are times that you knew Tsukishima gets irritated when you visit and even snaps at you but you didn't mind. You liked him and a small snap will not discourage you
But what you didn't know was that it would only take one conversation to completely shatter your heart
"-And they're back," Sugawara said as he saw you enter the gym, a bubbly smile present on your face as usual.
"Kei!" You skipped your way towards Tsukishima and handed him his water bottle which you voluntarily refilled with hot water.
He only gave you a 'tsk' and took the water bottle. Adjusting his glasses, he stared at you from head to toe as if analyzing you, a small blush appearing on his cheeks.
"What are you looking at? Have you finally come to realize that you like me back?" you cheekily asked, poking his bicep.
"No. I was just wondering how someone could look so ugly."
Despite what he said, you forced yourself to giggle, covering your upset feeling with an eye roll. "Oh shut up, Kei. You don't have to hide it, you know? Don't worry, I'm not going to reject you."
You winked at him causing Tsukishima to blush even more.
The rest of the boys snickered and laughed at his reaction which made Tsukishima more embarrassed than he already is.
"Just confess to the girl already, Tsukishima. Can't you see she's trying hard to win you?" Daichi said with a small chuckle while patting Tsukishima's back.
Tsukishima just huffed and pushed his glasses up. "What's there to like? They're nothing but an eyesore anyway."
"What?" you asked in disbelief.
Having a playful banter with Tsukishima was normal in your routine but this was the first time he called you such an offensive term. Does he really think of you that way?
"Oh come on, stop acting dumb. I don't even get why there are guys running after you. I mean, there's really nothing much to look at, right?"
Everyone grew quiet at what he said, clearly not expecting Tsukishima to be at such level of rudeness.
You swallowed the lump forming in your throat as your insecurity skyrocketed. "I try hard every single day to look presentable to you. I-"
You paused for a moment to laugh pathetically at yourself. "I exert a lot of effort to make you notice me. I cook for you, I give you gifts. Heck, I even stay after class to help clean the gym so that the task would be easier for you and I'm not even asking for anything in return."
Tsukishima glared at you sharply that you immediately felt extremely smaller than him. "I never asked you to do those things for me."
"Can't you at least show me that you care?" You wiped your tears with the back of your hand. "Because I'm slowly getting tired of this push and pull game."
"Don't you get it? I don't like you. Why don't you stop pushing yourself to me and start getting a life, hm?"
"Tsukishima, that's enough!" you heard Daichi yell at him.
"Y/n?" Sugawara was immediately beside you, his hand rubbing circles on your back in attempt to calm you down.
"No-" You lifted your face up to meet Tsukishima's eyes. "I think he's right. I should stop being a nuisance and focus on myself."
"I'll leave you alone. I'm sorry," you said before giving Tsukishima a bow and leaving the gym with everyone's eyes following your figure until the door shut.
Everyone could only look at Tsukishima as he cursed under his breath.
"Shit."
The moment you left the gym, you headed straight to the comfort room to let your tears out. You stared at yourself on the mirror as tears cascaded down your cheeks.
"You're beautiful," you reassured yourself while pointing at your own reflection. "What he said doesn't make you any less. Know your worth."
You wiped your tears and splashed your face with cold water before getting out and heading to class without sparing Tsukishima any glance.
You ignored Tsukishima, stopped visiting the gym and focused on yourself. You even made made friends with some of your classmates that you didn't bother getting associated with last time because you were too focused on capturing the attention of Tsukishima.
Unbeknownst to you, a certain male was eyeing you as you interact with other people. He blamed himself for pushing you away. He didn't talk to you, thinking that you only wanted space for a couple days before bothering him again.
He knew that what he said was out of line and he regret everything he did. He even asked Yamaguchi and the rest of the team for advice but all of them responded with the same answer - apologize and tell you how he feels.
Tsukishima gripped the pen tightly as he watched you laughing at something your classmate said. The said classmate was too close to you and it was obvious that he was trying to flirt with you.
"Tsukki?" Yamaguchi called out. He followed Tsukishima's gaze and sighed. "Why don't you go and talk to them?"
"Tsk. Why would I do that? Can't you see they're enjoying his company?" Tsukishima bitterly said.
"You'll end up losing them if you don't do something about it now. Who knows, they might already be lo-" Yamaguchi stopped as Tsukishima instantly stood up and made his way to where you are.
Taking your wrist, he pulled you towards him, heading out of the classroom.
"Tsukishima, what the hell?!" You tried to resist but his grip on your wrist only tightened.
You gasped as he suddenly stopped, trapping you against a wall with his arms beside your head.
"I'm sorry." Tsukishima closed his eyes, balling his fist as he bowed his head. "I said hurtful words to you and no amount of apology will take those away but I want you to know that I regret every single one of it."
You bit your lower lip as you felt yourself tearing up once again. "Do you really think that I'm ugly? I was hurt, Kei. It's just.."
"I'm sorry." His hand made its way to your cheek, cupping your face while he wiped your tears with his thumb. "You're not ugly."
You shook your head and averted your gaze from him, a sob escaping your lips as you felt yourself falling for him deeper. "Don't. Just stop. I'll accept your apology but please just leave me be. I won't be able to stop my feelings for you if you keep leading me on."
"But I don't want you to stop."
"What?"
"I've fallen for you." He tipped your chin up with his hand making you look at him and you were surprised to see the vulnerability in his features. "Please look at me again, y/n. Keep loving me because I swear that I'll do things different this time. Give me a chance."
You can't help but encircle your arms around him, burrying your face on the side of his neck as you nodded repeatedly. "One chance, Kei."
Tsukishima hugged you tightly, lips pressing on the side of your head. "One chance." He leaned away from you and held your face with his hand, eyes boring to yours admiringly.
"You're beautiful."
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ticklishtimothee · 3 years ago
Text
our final night alive (simon kalivoda x reader)
summary: the reader and simon are in the bathroom together before it all goes down. and hey, since all their friends are going to “pound-town” as simon would call it, why shouldn’t they?
a/n: i just watched fear street 1994 on netflix and totally fell in love with simon, so i wrote this. i promise i’m working on the requests in my inbox as well, i just had to get this idea out while it was fresh.
words: 1,740
While Kate and Josh go into the girl’s bathroom, you and Simon figure it’s best to leave them alone. So, you follow Simon into the boy’s room, the clothes you’d snatched from the lost and found clutched tightly in your hands.
“Hey, I’ll trade you this Iron Maiden t-shirt for the cardigan,” Simon grins.
“You want to wear this thing?” you ask, raising a brow and holding up the blue knitted nightmare in your hands. You can already tell how itchy the fabric would be against your skin.
Simon nods. “I think it would really accentuate my shoulders. I’ve been told they’re my best feature,” he says, winking.
“Whoever told you that was a liar,” you reply, but toss him the cardigan anyway.
He catches it easily, then tosses you the t-shirt in return.
He wastes no time in pulling the white t-shirt over his head, and you’re thankful to see it gone. It was bad enough that he’d been wearing it for all that time, regardless of the blood stains. You avert your eyes as he strips off his jeans as well.
“Nice tighty-whities,” you mutter.
Simon snorts. “Sorry for putting practicality over fashion.”
“Says the guy putting on a girl’s cardigan to fight monsters.”
“Touché.”
You turn to face the wall, pulling your own shirt over your head, checking your torso quickly for any traces of blood. Finding none, you pull the new t-shirt on.
Out of the corner of your eye, you realize Simon still isn’t making an effort to get dressed. Instead, he’s checking himself out in the mirror, and you can’t tell if he’s goofing off or actually looking for any stains to wash off of his skin.
“You have some blood on your back,” you tell him. “Can’t tell if it’s Sam’s or yours, but better safe than sorry.”
Simon looks in the mirror, tilting his head to catch a glimpse, and furrows his brows. “I don’t see it. Help me out?”
You grab a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them under the sink. “Turn around.”
He does so, and you find the blood in question and wipe it off.
He jumps under the touch. “You couldn’t have used warm water?” he asks, difficult as always.
“I could let this sink run for five minutes and it’d be warm at best,” you reply. “You think this place has the budget for hot water?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess so.”
There’s a pause, and you’re still standing behind him, your eyes scanning over the pale expanse of his back, taking in each freckle. His shoulders were pretty nice, actually.
“You know you’ve gotta change your pants, too,” he says.
“Oh, right,” you say, cheeks burning. You go back to the pile of your things. When you look up, he’s watching you. “Am I allowed a little privacy?” you ask.
He smiles. “You could go into the stall.”
You roll your eyes. “Or you could turn around and not be a pervert.”
“Hey, you already saw me in my underwear,” he points out.
You scowl at him, then hook your thumbs into the waist of your pants and pull them down in a quick, fluid motion. You toe off your shoes to take them off entirely, leaving them on the tiled floor. “Happy?” you ask.
His smile fades. “What happened to your thigh?”
You look down and see the injury he’s referring to. Honestly, you’d been so caught up in everything going on, you’d barely noticed the shallow gash in your skin, but now that it was brought to the forefront of your mind, the dull ache began to settle.
“I don’t know,” you reply. “I guess one of those psychos grazed me.”
Simon takes another wad of paper towels. “May I?” he asks.
You nod, and he dampens them under the faucet. “Come put your leg up to the sink.”
You do as he says, wincing at the first contact he makes with it.
“Sorry,” he practically whispers. “I don’t have anything to bandage it up with, but the least we can do is get it clean, okay?”
“Okay.”
His face is close to your bare leg, making goosebumps rise where his nose and lips brush the skin. He’s gentle with you, one hand holding your leg steady while the other dabs at the wound tenderly, and you watch as the red mess slowly begins to clear up, leaving the wound still open but no longer bleeding.
“There, that should be better,” he says. “When we find the others, maybe they’ll have something to patch you up with.”
“Thanks.”
You place both feet back on the ground, standing before Simon, both partially undressed (him more than you) and trying to hide the feelings of terror in both of your chests.
“Do you think Deena and Sam are gonna make up?” you ask. “Oh, I think they’re probably fucking as we speak,” he replies.
You give him a light smack to the back of his head. “You’ve got such a dirty mind.”
“I’m serious! Kate and Josh are probably doing it, too. The whole last-night-on-earth thing gets people horny, don’t you know?”
“Oh, so we’re all gonna be killed by some freaks, so we should be banging?” you ask.
“Are you asking in general, or about us?”
You pause. “Both.”
His cheeks flush pink, and you swear it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him embarrassed. “In general, yeah, I think it’s human instinct to seek out some pleasure before the end. As for us, well...If you’re down, I’m down.”
You stare at him for a second. “Really?”
“Only if you want to, I mean—”
You grab him by the shoulders and kiss him, effectively cutting off his rambling.
In no time, he’s pushed your back against the cool, tiled wall of the bathroom, kissing you back fevertently. You thread your fingers through his blond curls, and he sighs against your lips.
“Can I touch you?” he asks, breathless.
You nod, and he brings a hand between your legs, fingers running over your underwear teasing, making you shiver. 
“Can I be honest with you?”
“Yes,” you reply.
“I’ve never done this before,” he says, unable to meet your eye. “But I have a pretty good idea of what to do.”
“Me either,” you tell him. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”
He nods and pulls you in for another kiss, this time rubbing you through your panties. You whine softly into his mouth.
“Does that feel good?”
“Try doing it a little gentler—oh, yes, like that…”
You can feel his hard cock against your belly as he reaches his hand down the front of your underwear. “Is this okay?”
“Yes, yes, it’s fine.”
Carefully, he finds your hole and presses one finger inside, making you clench nervously at first.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Do you want me to stop?”
You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Try to relax for me,” he all but coos in your ear, and you do so.
He lets his finger slowly curl and uncurl inside you, stretching you out.
“Do you want to…?” you ask.
“I don’t have a condom,” he says, knowing exactly what you were going to ask.
“Well, if you get me pregnant, we’ll probably be dead before it’s even got arms and legs.”
He chuckles, and you appreciate that he’s able to find humor in the fucked up things, just like you.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He yanks down his underwear, and while you’d teased him about it before, the tight, white fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination. Simon wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up, bringing you over to the sink and sitting you down on the brim of it.
“There’s no way this thing is gonna hold us,” you say.
“If we break it, we’ll be dead before they make us pay for the damages,” he replies, and you laugh.
He makes quick work of pulling your panties down, and they fall to the floor as he parts your knees. “Please tell me if I hurt you,” he says. “I want it to feel good.”
You nod. “I promise.”
He lines himself up with your entrance, pushing his hips forward. He misses the first time, sort of poking the head of his cock into the crease of your thigh, and you both chuckle awkwardly at the mishap. The second time, he gets closer, but his cock slides upward and between your folds, making your legs jerk in surprise.
“Sorry, sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
The third time, he succeeds, and the initial stretch of his head entering you makes your breath catch in your throat.
“Should I stay still for a sec? Let you adjust?”
You nod, and so he does.
“You can move now.”
Slowly, he rocks his hips forward, and you manage to take more of him. Without you asking, he waits again, letting you get used to the feeling.
Your nails dig into his back. “You can go, I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, Simon, I’m sure,” you reply.
“Alright, I’m just double-checking!”
He fucks you carefully, his own movements a bit robotic at first, but when you pull him close to lock your lips together once again, he falls into a rhythm, and your ass hurts from sitting on the stupid sink, but he feels so good, his hot breath tickling your neck as he fucks you.
“Oh, fuck,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I’m already—”
“It’s fine, don’t apologize. You can come, just try to pull out,” you say.
He nods, and you can see him scrunching up his face, trying to gain some control and keep from cumming. It doesn’t make him last much longer, and he pulls out just in time, and you scoot to the side in a hurry, his come landing in the basin of the sink.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I can try to finger you again, or something.”
You laugh. “Simon, it’s fine. Some dudes would have come just from seeing me in my underwear. It’s fine.”
He nods, and his forehead is slightly sweaty, hair sticking to it, and his cheeks are flushed.
“I feel bad if you die and I didn’t give you an orgasm,” he says.
“Well then let’s both try our hardest not to die, and you can give me one another time. Deal?”
He grins. “Deal.”
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