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rafesangelita · 4 months ago

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♡ ࣪when a movie night with your best friend ends with you and rafe naked underneath your blankets..

warnings: bsf!rafe, fluff, cuddling, sexual tension, reader is a little bold in this one, heavy petting, tit play, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m. & f. receiving), face sitting, face fucking, hair pulling, choking, biting, finger sucking, size kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms

a/n: movie night dates are my fav <3

wc: 2.3k

“they have the whole twilight series on here..” rafe looked away from your tv, and at your bare legs as you stepped out of your bathroom, a pair of sleep shorts and one of his t-shirts adorning your body. “oooh, put it on!” you joined rafe under the covers, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. anyone from the outside would’ve looked at you and rafe and thought you two were a little too close to be best friends, and while they might be right, you and rafe loved being close like this.

“i’m surprised you’re wearing a sweatshirt,” you tugged at the soft material, “i like it.” rafe looked down at you, the corner of his lips quirking. “yeah?” he pulled you closer, his large palm splaying across your lower back. you hummed breathing in his cologne. he was so warm and just so big, you couldn’t help but snuggle into him more. the movie started playing, the soundtrack playing softly in the background as you two fell into a comfortable silence.

“these are the movies you watch strictly for the vibes, because the acting is terrible.” you gasped at rafe’s words, unintentionally moving against his front side. he cursed under his breath, backing away slightly so you couldn’t feel his hardening cock through his sweatpants. “it’s not that bad.” you giggled, backing up on him which only made rafe shut his eyes. he was trying his hardest to keep his cool right now, but with the way your shorts rode up past the curves of your ass, it was nearly impossible.

rafe was growing fidgety, his movements not going unnoticed by you. “are you okay?” you turned around, his cheeks flushed pink as a thin sheen of sweat coated his skin. “yeah— yes, i’m just uhm.. i’m burning up in this sweatshirt.” you took your bottom lip between your teeth, your fingers dancing along the hem of his shirt. “so take it off.” rafe swallowed thickly, feeling your nails graze just above his v-line. “what?” he laughed nervously, waiting for you to say you were kidding. “..take it off.” you repeated, watching the way rafe’s chest rose up and down with every breath.

even though you two constantly teetered the edge of what friends did and didn’t do, rafe always made sure to never cross the line.. unless you wanted to, of course. “a-are you sure?” rafe was already going through a mental battle, his jaw ticking when you took it upon yourself to pull his sweatshirt over his head. tonguing his cheek, you and rafe shared a glance before you averted your attention back to the tv. “can you hold me?” rafe knew he couldn’t say no to you, nor did he want to.

letting you rest your head on his bicep, he pulled you against his chest, his hand slipping under your, his, t-shirt. it was hard to focus with his hand on your tummy, his hard-on nestled between your cheeks while his breath fanned the back of your neck. you only lasted ten minutes like this, your hips moving on their own accord as rafe trailed his hand further up your torso. he froze when he felt the swells of your breasts against his thumb, a curse leaving his lips as he whispered in your ear.

“you’re fuckin’ killing me right now.” he groaned, taking one of your tits in his hand. you arched into him, reaching behind you to palm him through his pants. resting his head in the curve of your neck, rafe licked a stripe up against your skin, his tongue running over the sensitive spot of your flesh. you moaned, the sound making his cock stir. you’ve wanted rafe like this for so long, you couldn’t believe he was finally touching you the way you’ve wanted for so long.

craning your neck so you could see his face, you continued stroking him through his pants, his lips finding yours before he slipped his freehand under the waistband of your shorts. “no panties either? fuck, you were just begging for this cock weren’t you?” you whimpered a ‘mhmmm’, before you felt his middle and ring fingers dip between your folds. “what the fuck? you’re soaked..” he grazed your clit, your body jolting in pure unadulterated pleasure.

“when did that happen, huh? was it when you took my shirt off?” rafe slid his fingers down to your entrance, gathering the pool of wetness there before gliding his digits back up to your sensitive bundle of nerves, “or was it when you got under the covers and put your ass where i needed you most?” he whispered the last part, admiring the way your eyebrows knitted together in desperation, your lips glossy with his spit.

“please, i need you so bad, ray!” you cried, refraining from whining when he took his hand out of your shorts. bringing his digits up to your lips, you welcomed them in your mouth where rafe watched you suck your sweetness off of them. “you’re such a fuckin’ whore, i didn’t even need to ask you to do that.” he watched with a dark gaze, your tongue swirling around his fingers and sucking them as if it was something else. “you look so pretty when you’re cock hungry..” rafe teased, pulling away from you to take his sweats off.

you got on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed where rafe stood fully naked. he was so hard, your mouth practically watered when he pulled you closer to him by your chin. “can i please taste you?” you gazed up at him with those watery eyes as he threaded his fingers through your hair. “oh, how sweet of you for asking,” he tugged at the hair on your scalp, his cock just centimeters away from your face, “do whatever you want with it, ‘pretty. it’s yours.”

you gave him that smile that made him fall in love with you all those months ago before licking a stripe up from the underside of his length, lapping up the pre cum that managed to dribble down his cock. rafe was mesmerized as he watched you, your pretty eyes never leaving his as you managed to wrap your lips around his sensitive tip. he was so big compared to you, he worried about how you’d be able to take it all. slowly, you kept lowering yourself until he bottomed out in your throat, the man above you in complete awe.

rafe was turned on beyond belief, the urge to just wrap his fists in your hair and fuck your face until you’re choking on it made him feral. you stilled, swallowing around him until he had to pull you off. “are you fucking with me right now? you want me to cum inside your mouth that bad?” he squeezed your cheeks together, landing a harsh smack to your ass. you yelped, nodding frantically as he pulled his t-shirt off of your body. with your tits now on full display, rafe balled your hair up and lowered you down onto his cock again.

you doubled over, your back arching as he thrusted into your mouth at an unforgiving speed. the sounds coming from between your lips were nothing short of obscene, heavy tears now rolling down your cheeks. rafe couldn’t formulate a single thought, his brain empty as he reveled in the feeling of your throat taking his cock. he fantasized about this for so many nights, wanting nothing more than to have you at his mercy and letting him take you however he wanted. fuck, he just knew you’d let him too. his pretty little best friend finally taking his cock, he could just cum at the thought.

as if rafe was brought back to earth from floating on cloud nine, he groaned when the band in his stomach snapped, his high washing over him in waves of pure ecstasy. his cum shot down your throat, the thick white ropes painting your tongue as his thrusts grew sloppy, his hold on your hair loosening as he let out a string of curses. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..” rafe lost himself like never before, a hiss leaving his lips as you kept bobbing your head, desperate to take each drop.

“y/n—” he shuddered, pushing you away before you could keep going. overstimulated and out of breath, rafe pulled you up to look at your face. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t think i was going to finish that fast..” he was slightly embarrassed, but even more confused as you shook your head. “it’s okay!” you pecked his lips, batting your eyelashes at him as if he didn’t just cum in your mouth without permission. “where is it?” he cupped your cheeks, your mouth clean of any cum.

“what?” you whispered, equally as confused until rafe’s eyes widened in realization. “did you fuckin’ swallow it?” his thumbs hooked between your lips, opening your mouth to check for himself. he couldn’t put into words how bad he wanted you right now, the simple fact that you took what he gave you so eagerly made him tackle you back down on your sheets, his lips melting against yours in an instant. you welcomed him between your thighs, moaning in his mouth as he took your shorts off.

“sit on my face.” he rolled over, pulling you on top of him. you didn’t have any time to process what was happening before he pulled your thighs down on either sides of his head. rafe wasted no time, his tongue flicking between your folds. you gasped, scrambling to grip his arms as he dragged your hips across his mouth. “you taste amazing, holy fuck.” he circled your clit, sucking the sensitive bud before digging his fingers into your skin.

you cried out, eyes fluttering shut as you clenched around nothing. “f-feels so good, rafe!” the man beneath you moaned, his chest filling with pride as you writhed on top of him. despite his mouth working wonders on your soaked cunt, you felt so empty, wanting nothing more than to feel the delicious stretch of his cock. “need you inside, ray,” you looked down at him, “please fuck me.” grunting at your words, rafe gave you a nod.

standing up on shaky legs, rafe sat up against your headboard before pulling you back down on his lap. “wait— i don’t have any condoms.” rafe was panting, his lips glistening with your slick. “so?” you kissed him, grinding helplessly on his cock. “you’re okay with that? if i don’t use one?” you hummed, trailing kissing across his toned chest. “fuck— okay, baby.” rafe wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you up as you reached down and lined him up with entrance. making sure you were looking at his face, rafe lowered you slowly, both of you moaning as you sunk down on his length.

you felt so warm and tight wrapped around him like this, both of you shuddering once he filled you to the hilt. “you okay?” his voice was gentle as he spoke to you, his fingers stroking your chin as you nodded. “yes, i just feel so full.” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “listen to me,” rafe started, “you’re not just my best friend after this. me and you? we’re together, alright?” you blinked, a smile gracing your features as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “really?” you felt giddy, your small laugh being cut short when he moved his hips.

“yes, really..” he trailed off, “i need you to know that i love and respect you, because the way i’m gonna fuck you right now? you just might forget.” you were about to question what he meant when he bear hugged you and started thrusting into you from below, your lips parting as a shriek ripped itself from your throat. “oh, fuck!” you rarely cursed, the word throwing rafe for a loop before he smirked to himself. “you cussing now, angel? is the dick that good?” you buried your face in his chest, unintentionally biting down on the flesh as his thighs smacked the bottoms of your ass.

rafe’s force was brutal, his tip kissing your cervix with every movement of his hips. “yes! yes, it’s so good!” you cried, holding onto him for dear life. “i’ve thought about doing this for so long,” he groaned, “just’ wanted you to be mine already.” rafe looked up at you as if you weren’t real, like you’d disappear into thin air if he didn’t hold you tight. he continued like this, leaving open mouth kisses between your neck and shoulder, your head knocking against the headboard.

“shit— sorry.” he laid you down, pinning your knees to your chest before slamming back into you again. nothing could top this, you were sure of it. with rafe pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, and his fingers now rubbing your clit, it wasn’t long before you were sobbing out, both you and rafe kissing each other as your orgasm hit you, quite literally stealing your breath away. rafe came twice, unaware that he could even do that within a fifteen minute time span.

your stomach caved in as you attempted to breathe, your heart beating in your ears as your back arched off of your sheets. “..rafe,” your voice just barely above a whisper before you gasped, the man on top of you cradling your head as he watched you come undone beneath him. you were crying, moaning hysterically as your high came over you, rendering you speechless while rafe marveled at the sight. “too much?” you nodded, rafe pulling out before shushing you with a peck to your lips.

you were still going through the aftershocks of your orgasm when he pulled the blanket over you two, both of you flushed against each other as he eased you down from your high. as if the moment couldn’t get any better with you shyly smiling at each other, the song ‘roslyn’ started playing from the movie, both of you stroking the other’s skin. “are we really together now, or were you just thinking with your other head?” rafe laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist. “no i meant it.” he traced the curve of your lips, admiring you until you fell asleep.

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nanaslutt · 9 months ago

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• I will always catch you •

ʚ synopsis: You and Nanami play a game of tag, if he wins he spanks you

ʚ cont: fem reader, spanking, fingering, dirty talk, rough sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation

You stood with your hands perched on the back of the couch, your eyes not once straying from where they were glued to Nanami's opposite the couch from you, the only thing that separated the two of you besides the coffee table that sat in front of the couch. "Ten second headstart." You said, already feeling your heart start to pick up at the promise of Nanami chasing you around.

You knew logically no matter how much time you asked for, he would always catch you in the end, but that's what you wanted, not that you would tell him that—even if he already knew. Nanami nodded, removing his hands from his pockets confidently, his mouth barely quirking up in a smile at the corners, the skin beside his mouth dimpling with it. "You won't catch me this time." Lie. "We'll see." Was his only reply before he raised his hands and started ticking down his fingers, letting you know he had started the timer.

You ran around the couch, passing him where he stood on the other side as you ran for the kitchen across the room, using the large island in the middle of it to separate him from you. It was your best bet to escape him for as long as possible, wait him out here, bait him to stalk you around the island, and shoot up the stairs for his office which had the only locking door in the house save for the bathroom, but that was too close to the kitchen, you needed more time to get away.

You watched, eyes bright and heart racing as his fingers hit 1, then he closed his hand tightly, letting you know you were out of time before he started walking toward you calmly. Your smile grew larger the closer he got, as did his, though he was far more cocky and confident than yours which was playful and full of adrenaline. "Aren't you going to run, sweetheart?" Nanami asked, cocking his head to the side as he made his way to the kitchen, standing across the island from you.

"I told you I learned some new tricks, you won't catch me this time." You said confidently, moving slowly toward the corner of the island, trying to bait Nanami into following you. And sure enough, he did. He didn't reply to you, just started walking towards the side in which you were closest to him, making you walk away from him, the two of you slowly circling the kitchen island as you made your way back to the opening of the living room.

You knew not to avert your eyes to his and give away your plans, if he caught you looking towards the direction you were going to run, he would catch you—no doubt about it. Nanami was taller and faster, his long legs eating up the space between you like nothing whenever you ran from him, so you had to be smart about this. "We'll see if your tricks are enough." Nanami finally voiced, stopping in his tracks diagonal to you, him standing where you just were in the kitchen, your positions now reversed.

You smiled at him in response, showing your teeth before you turned abruptly and took off sprinting across the living room. Your heart raced in your chest, the sound echoing through your whole body and making that the only thing you were able to hear. You wanted to turn around so bad and see how close he was, but you knew you couldn't afford to do so. You let out a laugh as you reached the banister on the stairs, gripping it tightly as you pulled yourself forward, using that momentum to run up them as quickly as you could.

You tried not to think about how Nanami often went up the steps two at a time, so if he was running he could probably manage three or more... shit. Your adrenaline was still pumping, making you more assured of yourself as you reached the top of the stairs, sure he wasn't right on your tail. His office was in your sight already as you pushed off the wall and sprinted toward the end of the hall. You were mentally praising Nanami for his constant pushing to leave all doors in the house open unless they were being occupied so the air could flow freely between them, making it so none of the rooms were stuffy—meaning the door was wide open and all you had to do was grab that door and slam it like your life depended on it.

You could only feel your own steps as you raced down the hall, surprised that he hadn't reached the top of the stairs yet, but that meant you had one, you finally had one. You reached the office and grabbed the handle before spinning yourself around and momentarily disorienting yourself before you were snatched into a pair of strong arms and hoisted over a shoulder with a scream of surprise. You felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest and run away at the shock.

How had he got you so fast? You were sure he wasn't on your trail, but apparently, that had been wishful thinking. "Nanami!" You laughed, kicking your legs against him, trying to free yourself as he held you over his shoulder with an iron grip, his arm locked tightly around the back of your thighs so you couldn't wiggle out of his grasp. Your laugh was cut short when a harsh smack was left on your ass, the sting making you whip your hands back and cover yourself from him.

Nanami swiftly kicked the door shut behind him and stalked over to his desk, wrenching your hands away from your ass easily in his grip. "This is my reward for catching you, hands down." He said calmly, the deep baritone of his voice making you shiver as he pulled you off his shoulder and spun you away from him, using his body to press you against the edge of his desk and pushing you down on it with his hand on the middle of your back.

You weren't able to resist his moves, the speed of his actions making your body more pliant than you would've liked. The papers on his desk crumpled under your chest as you tried to push yourself up so you could stand again, and maybe try to attempt to run away, though you never had been successful at that before. Kento grabbed your wrists with both his hands and locked them behind your back with strength only he could possess, freeing himself a hand as he kept you at his mercy, rubbing his free hand against the swell of your ass.

"The new trick you tried didn't work so well." Nanami cooed, stating the obvious and making your face feel hot as he rubbed your loss in your face. "Were you planning to lock yourself in my office?" He asked, sliding his hand up and down the side of your body, making your skin prickle under your shirt. "Yeah, I was close too." You said defiantly, trying to gain back even a little bit of your ego. You had been so sure of yourself and now look at the position you ended up in.

"Mmm," Nanami hummed, the deep sound of it in his throat making your legs part willingly for him as he pressed his knee against the inside of your thigh and made you spread them. "What were you planning to do once you were in here?" He asked, making you pause. You looked around his office, thinking on his words. I don't know, relish in your victory? Bait him through the door? Write taunting notes about how he's a loser and slide them under the door for him to read?

"What do you think would happen when you opened the door? You couldn't stay in here forever." He asked confidently. "I'd come out because I would have won." You said quickly, the answer obvious, "There is no time limit on the game." He said, his fingers pushing up the back of your shirt and sliding against the skin of your back, pushing the fabric against your arms that were locked behind your back. The gears in your head started turning as you considered his words.

"What do you mean?" You asked, turning your head as far to the side as you could manage to look at him from under your lashes. "I will always catch you, you can't escape me." You opened your mouth to complain, to whine about how the game has been rigged from the start, how there was no way you could ever win, when a loud slap against your ass stopped your words from coming, a different sound escaping you. Your hands balled into fists as you wiggled back against him, trying to find relief against the sting that never came.

"That's not fair." You pouted. Nanami huffed out a laugh before his large hand rubbed across your backside, his fingers finding the hem of your shorts before pulling them down to pool around your ankles. "No, it's not." He agreed, another harsh smack making contact with your skin, making you jump. Nanami's warm hand stayed against your flesh rubbingaway the pain as he pressed closer to you, his crotch pressed against your left thigh. "But you don't mind as much as you're trying to make me think you do." He said assuredly.

You felt a tick of annoyance run through you before it was almost completely snuffed out by another slap of his hand, this one followed by two more in quick succession against your other cheek. "Why would you think that?" You sighed, trying not to pant through your words and give in to him as much as you wanted to. "This whole game has been rigged the whole time." You complained, your eyebrows shooting up when he pressed his knee against your clothed cunt, making you press try to press your legs together--an action that was stopped by his knee that was knocked into your own, keeping you spread.

Nanami gripped your ass in his hand before leaning over you, massaging the fat of your backside as his weight crushed you, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. He rut his hips against your thigh, letting you know how much he was enjoying his win before he pressed a kiss right under your ear. You shut your eyes, a gasp falling from your lips as all complaints left your brain, the only thing you could think of being the weight and scent of him as he consumed you entirely.

"You like it when I chase you, but you like it when I catch you even more." He whispered against your ear, his voice making you clench around nothing. "You're so cocky." You breathed, making him breathe out a laugh before he placed a kiss on your neck, the top of your spine, your shoulder blade. You held your breath when his hand that gripped your flesh slid between your legs, your body welcoming him as you spread your legs wider for him.

You couldn't stop the gasp that fell from between your lips when he pushed aside your panties like they were never there and rubbed his fingers through your wetness before dragging them across your clit. "And you're soaked, sweetheart," Nanami replied, showing you just how right he was about how much you loved being caught by him. But you didn't need him to tell you that, you already knew.

Nanami leaned back from crushing you with his body at the same time he slid his fingers back down to your entrance and pushed two thick fingers inside you like it was nothing—and it might've well been, his fingers getting swallowed up by your wet cunt with ease. The groan that left your lips made his cock twitch in response, the feeling of his hard length against the back of your thigh driving you crazy.

He released your arms from being caged behind your back, which you immediately used to grab the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Just when you were about to beg him for more, he slapped you again, harder this time, your ass stinging at the impact while your pussy tightened around his fingers like a vice. Nanami echoed your moan with a groan of his own as he began thrusting his fingers in and out of you, the wet squelching of your cunt echoing throughout his office.

"I can feel how much you like it." Nanami groaned, his voice deeper and more assertive with his arousal prominent. "Fuck," You whined, wiggling your hips back to meet his thrusts." Smack, another slap making you whine, a fuzziness starting to build in your mind as he fucked you harder on his fingers. "Tell me how much you like it, honey." Nanami moaned, though it sounded more like a beg as he rubbed his hips harder against your ass, trying to relieve himself on you.

"Kento," You whined, thrusting your hips back against him harder. A clinking of a belt and a zipper following the sound told you Nanami was ridding himself of his own pants. Another slap against your sore ass was all the motivation you needed to answer him, nodding against the desk. "I love it Ken, I love it, it feels so good." You whined, your clit throbbing at the lack of attention as you wiggled back, hoping he would relieve you soon.

You cried out when he pulled his fingers out of you abruptly, "Shhh, don't cry-" His words ended as he slammed himself inside you in one thrust, the stretch and slight burn of the sheer size of him making your eyes roll back in your head as he started up a brutal pace inside you, giving you little time to adjust before his hand dropped to your clit just as you wanted while his other massaged your soon to be bruised ass.

Without his knee between yours anymore, you were able to squeeze your thighs together around his hand as your orgasm wracked through your body, making you scream as he pounded it out of you, his cock hitting just the right spot inside your soft walls and prolonging your high as his expert fingers matched pace with his thrusts on your clit. "K-kento-" You whined, one of your hands wrapping around his wrist that kept rubbing your oversensitized clit, the pleasure of it bordering on pain.

"I know, I know, honey." Nanami cooed, his voice soft but his actions a stark contrast as he slapped your ass twice, once on each cheek, never once faltering his rough thrusts inside you, "You have to let go, sweetheart. Let go of my hand." He instructed, making you shake your head back and forth violently, only resulting in his fingers rubbing faster back and forth along your clit, it was almost too much.

"T-too much, Kento- f-fuck-" You cried, squeezing your eyes shut tight as you tried to lean forward to escape the pleasure, but he just followed you with his thrusts, knocking hard into your g-spot each time he slammed inside you. "No, it's not, Iknow what you can take." He replied dismissively, massaging your ass in a circle. The two of you had a safeword that had been long established and never used, and you weren't thinking about using it now, so maybe he was right, maybe he did know how much you could take.

You simply whined in response, feeling another orgasm quickly creeping over you, no escape from it in sight. "Let go of my hand, sweetheart, I won't ask again," Nanami said through a groan, his hand briefly coming up to cradle your cheek in a sweet gesture before he slid it back down your body and slapped the back of your thigh. The niceness of his words and the roughness of his actions made it hard to combine them into one person, you almost wanted to curse him out for sounding so unaffected but you knew he wasn't fairing much better than you.

The small sounds of him grunting and cursing under his breath told you exactly how he was doing. Kento's thrusts started losing their rhythm as he lost himself inside you. Begrudgingly, you let go of his hand, your own shaking as you placed it back on the edge of the dest, your knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping it. "Good girl, I have you, I-I'll take care of you." The sound of Nanami's words getting choked off by a groan made your clit throb under his fingers. It was a fucking headrush knowing how much this man lost himself to you.

"Please-" You begged, unsure of what you were asking for but knowing you weren't going to last much longer. "Let it out, I'm right behind you." Nanami nodded, leaning over your body and wrapping an arm under your stomach, pulling your back tightly to his chest as he humped his cock in and out of you, the stretch and loss of him with each thrust making you go a little dumb in the head each time.

"Cum-" You weren't even able to finish your sentence as you came with a cry at the same time Nanami placed his lips on your cheek and kissed softly, trailing those kisses over your shoulder and neck as his fingers and cock worked in perfect harmony to draw your orgasm out of you. "Coming, I'm coming- oh my god-" Kento groaned through his teeth, his hair tickling your face as he buried his head in your neck and ground his hips flush against yours.

The circular movement of Kento's hips against your ass made your legs shake with sensitivity as his fat tip rubbed against your g-spot as he emptied his balls inside you. A warmth filled you from the inside out with each kick of his cock as he came, rope after rope of his seed filling you just like he did every time he fucked you. A loud, low, continuous groan left his throat as his balls throbbed with his release, his fingers finally ceasing their rubbing against your clit as he went still, basking in his orgasm while keeping himself inside you.

You reached a shaky, weak amr behind you and grabbed the back of his neck, gently scraping your nails up along his neck and trimmed undercut of his hair. Nanami hummed in satisfaction before he lifted his head and found your lips with ease, kissing you gently and lovingly, like the two of you had all the time in the world and nothing would ever separate the two of you.

He pulled away and looked at you, a content expression on his face. He leaned in to press one more kiss against your eyelid before he pulled back entirely, smoothing his hands down your sides as he pulled out of you, making the both of you moan at the missing contact of the other. You already wanted to whine about how empty you felt, but you knew you could have him whenever you wanted so that feeling didn't last long.

"My ass hurts." You complained, breaking the silence as you were now finally able to feel the full extent of his actions without a clouded mind. Kento laughed as he pulled your panties back in their rightful place, keeping his cum stuffed inside you as he patted his fingers over your cunt before dropping down and sliding your shorts up your legs. "I'm sorry, my love. I'll take responsibility." He said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"You gonna massage my ass all night?" You asked, pushing your body up and leaning against the back of the desk, not yet ready to fully rely on your shaky legs yet. "Of course, I was the one who bruised it after all." Kento nodded as he buckled his belt back into place before stalking forward and caging you in with his body. You wrapped your arms around his neck like you've done a thousand times and let him lean in to kiss your neck, his hands wrapping around your waist to help you stand.

"Good." You said, relishing in his kisses before speaking up again, grabbing ahold of his face and pulling him back so you could look at him properly before you asked your question. "Was the game really rigged this whole time or were you just saying all that to be sexy?" Nanami smiled at that, his own hands grabbing your cheeks as he placed a kiss to the top of your head, to lessen the blow of his inevitable answer you knew was coming. " You know it is, I will always catch you."

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shouyuus · 2 months ago

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─── Ⅵ CHAPTER SIX: SIX

violet; 4,984 words, fluff and SMUT!!!, hockey!vi, figure skater!reader, college parties, hurt/comfort (kinda), wlw, SESBIAN LEX!!!, thigh riding (both), fingering, oral (r!receiving), gays being bad at feelings, mel is Mother, jayce is the bestest wingbro ever, no "y/n"

summary: in which vi, actually, does not fuck this up.

a/n: and.... here it is!!! the grande finale :) thank you guys so much for reading and for showing this lil miniseries so much support <3 i hope the payoff was good, and #trust that this won't be the last you see of hockey!vi and figure skater!reader ! they're so dear to me and i'm already thinking of cute lil drabbles i could write in this universe but anyway -- i'm getting ahead of myself. enjoy the last chapter!!!!

< table of contents

─── Ⅵ THIS IS, VI REFLECTS as she steps into the booming base-threaded room of the sorority house, probably not the best idea. But it’s the only one she’s got, so she might as well lean in, right? Right.

Jayce cranes up to look over the sea of people before jerking his head towards the punch table with a shrug. Vi follows him, running a hand through her freshly washed hair. She thanks whatever gods are up there that she’d remembered to bring a change of clothes to the game.

“Here,” Jayce says, pressing a red solo cup into her hands.

Vi stares at it for a second before gulping it back, grimacing around the clash of liquors and half-blended mixer as it burns its way down her throat. Almost immediately, a warmth starts to buzz behind her ears and she remembers, somewhat belatedly, that she’s had nothing to eat since having two bananas and an ancient granola bar before the game.

She shakes her limbs loose and reaches out to refill her cup, but Jayce catches her hand.

She’s about to argue when he points towards a sofa halfway across the room and Vi’s eyes follow it only to find you, sitting there with a cup of your own, laughing at something someone’s saying, and it takes Vi another second to realize that the person next to you is Margot, her bleached blond hair fading into acid green tips, her snakebite piercings glinting in the dim neon lights.

Vi’s pushing through the throng of people towards you before she can stop herself, careless of the hands that thump her on the back, the congratulatory sentences, cut off by the way she pulls way, till she’s standing feet from you, and your eyes twist up to meet hers.

The smile on your lips only falters slightly, but she doesn’t miss the way your gaze flicks down the length of her body, ticking back up to her lips, where it lingers for a beat too long before she finds your eyes with her own again.

There’s a dull, pleasant ache somewhere behind her navel as she notices how much darker your eyes are the second time around.

“Hey six,” Margot drawls, shifting back and stretching out her legs, “we were wondering when you were gonna get here. But don’t worry — I was keeping your little ice minx here company for you.”

Vi purses her lips, tries not to think too hard on the fact that your knee is so close to Margot’s leg it’s almost touching.

“Uh thanks but — can I — can I get a minute?” Vi asks, jerking her head towards the kitchen, praying to the heavens that it’s empty.

You bite down on your bottom lip, but you nod and push yourself up from the couch, glancing back at Margot with tiny smile.

“Thanks for the advice,” you say.

She smirks, “Anytime, dollface.” She wiggles her fingers and winks as she catches Vi’s eyes, and Vi makes a mental note to send her a thank you text later.

Vi leads you through the party with her hand around your wrist, but by the time you reach the door leading into the kitchen, her grip’s loosened just enough for you to slip your fingers between hers. But when she tries to open the door, she finds it locked.

“What the —”

She wiggles the door knob, wondering who on earth would want to lock the door to a sorority house kitchen, and then, a melodious voice says from the other side —

“What’s the magic word?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Mel, it’s us.”

A beat of silence later, the doorknob twists and the door slips open just a silver. Mel’s bright hazel eyes appear in the crack, her lashes limned in gold as she looks at you and then at Vi, then back at you again.

“Those aren’t the magic words,” she says, though she does open the door a few inches wider, her expression smug.

You groan, crinkling your nose before you lick your lips.

“Fine, please.”

Mel’s smile widens as the door opens and Vi steps through, pulling you along after her.

Mel’s eyebrows hitch up as she catches your free arm in her delicate hand.

You give her a soft squeeze and mouth thank you. She gives the pair of you a satisfied nod before letting you go and pressing a small key into Vi’s chest.

“Do not —”

Vi nods, “Fuck this up. Yeah… I know.”

Mel gives you both a final look before slipping from the kitchen and bringing the door closed behind her. Vi stares at it for a beat, digging her thumb into the jagged teeth of the tiny key before reaching over to lock the door behind her.

You let out a soft breath, folding your arms across your chest, your shoulder shrugging up as you suddenly remember that you’re still wearing Vi’s varsity jacket.

Vi turns around and you both speak at the same time —

“Look, I’m sorry about the —”

“I shouldn’t have walked out —”

Vi purses her lips around a burgeoning smile even as you let out a tiny laugh, shaking your head.

She waves an awkward hand as you lean back against the kitchen island. Distantly, Vi remembers the way you’d sunk down on the other side just about a month ago, how later that same night she’d hoisted you up onto the countertop and kissed you till there was no more breath in her lungs left to give.

“I… I’m sorry I freaked out like that in the locker rooms…” you say, twisting your arms tighter around yourself as Vi nods, leaning back against the closed door.

“I just saw that text come in and I thought…” you swallow.

“I know, princess… it was my fault for —” she heaves a sigh, motioning haphazardly at the air, “not cutting her off sooner.”

You let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. Mel told me that she reminded Jayce to —”

“— tell me to block her. Yeah. And he did… I just…” Vi shrugs, sheepish, “… forgot.”

Your lashes flutter as your gaze cuts away from her face.

“Wow —” you say a second later, your voice threaded through with mirth, and when Vi looks back at you, it’s to find you smiling, “we’re really kinda shit at this, aren’t we?”

Vi puffs out a laugh, letting her head knock back against the door.

“Yeah… you can say that again.”

“So…” you say, fingers worrying at the hem of your little black dress.

Vi cocks her head, her eyes caught on the movement, and suddenly, heat plumes up the back of her neck at the memory of you, with your thighs slotted on either side of hers, the feel of your soft skin beneath her palms as she’d slowly worked up the hem of that very same dress.

She takes a deep, steadying breath.

“So?” she echoes.

You’re watching her with pink lips and damson cheeks.

“So… what now?”

Vi pulls an exaggerated sort of thinking-face before pushing off the door, taking the few steps forward to put herself in your personal space. She relishes in the way you gasp, lashes fluttering as your palms come up to rest against her chest, but you don’t make to push her away.

“Well, I’m not one for a lot of foreplanning but right now… I think I’d just like a do-over from the last time we were in this position.”

“Y-yeah?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as she settles her hands on your hips and digs her fingers into the plush of of your ass.

“Mhm… what’dyou think, pretty girl? That a good place to start for us?”

Your answering yes is cut short by the squeak you make as Vi hoists you up to place you on the kitchen island, her nose digging into the soft spot just beneath your jaw, breathing you in till her head spins, her thumb trailing up the soft of your thigh till you’re trembling.

“V-Vi?”

Vi pulls back just far enough to catch your eyes, and from up this close, she can see the thin trails of glitter running down your cheeks, the slight redness to your lashes that tells her you’d been crying. Guilt twists like a stitch in her side, and she bites back a sigh.

“What is it?” she asks. She watches you watching her, your eyes searching hers as if you were looking for something — a question, or an answer, or perhaps just the answering truth to the lies that both of you have been trying so desperately to tell yourselves.

You swallow, tracing a thumb across the small tattoo on her cheek; and then, you smile a smile that might just rhyme with forgiveness.

“Kiss me.”

So Vi does, the kiss itself shredding the air between you until there’s nothing left but the gut-clenching friction of her lips on yours. You gasp open for her, so beautifully that Vi almost stumbles back, but instead, she tips herself forward and pours herself into your pliant mouth. You taste like honeyed bourbon and stolen midnights, like the first breath of air on a winter’s morning or maybe just the next few decades of her entire life.

She pulls away breathless, moaning thick into the skin of your neck, hissing at the sting of your fingers curled into her hair, at the sound of your hitching gasps as she inches a hand between your thighs and swears when her fingers find you slick and wanting.

“F-fuck — Vi —”

“Holy shit —” Vi presses her face into your neck, letting her fingers slip through the folds of your wet heat, desire sparking through her veins like lightning in a gathering storm. She drops to her knees, nudging yours apart with her palm, yanking you till you’re nearly slipping off the edge of the counter, but you tug at her hair with a soft whine.

“W-wait, Vi —”

“Mm, don’t wanna wait anymore, princess — wanna taste you so bad — fuck —”

“No — Vi, please —”

She pauses then, looking up to find your eyes blown dark, your lashes fluttering like hummingbird wings as you watch her with your bottom lip caught beneath your teeth.

“It’s just — I don’t want our first time to be —” you motion weakly at the sorority house kitchen, your cheeks going blotchy, “and the counter’s… kinda cold and…” you drop your hand to grip the edge of the counter “… uncomfy,” you finish, rather lamely, your voice trailing off as Vi puffs out a laugh against your inner thigh, pushing herself back up with a crooked smile.

“Mm… you really are a princess, aren’t you?” Vi teases, even as she helps you off the counter and tugs down your dress for you. You pout up at her, but she rolls her eyes, grinning.

“Right, c’mon then —” she links your fingers and unlocks the kitchen door, tugging you once more into the disorienting throng of the party.

Halfway to the door though, your limbs go cold as the pair of you run smack into Caitlyn, this time sans her new ginger girlfriend.

“Vi — good, I was hoping to run into you —” she says, her eyes flickering over you for a second before it settles back on Vi.

You swallow, wondering if you should pull away, but Vi tugs you into her side and slips a possessive arm around your waist.

“Sorry, Cait — can’t really talk right now. I’ve gotta go fuck the brains outta my girlfriend — nice seeing you though — enjoy the party, go Enforcers!” she says, grinning wide as she pulls you through the rest of the way to the door, leaving Caitlyn slack-jawed and speechless behind you.

You let out an incredulous laugh as both of you stumble out of the door and onto the front porch. Vi chuckles as the door slams shut behind her, a little self-conscious even as you turn to stare at her.

“Wow… that was…” you purse your lips as Vi shrugs, tugging you back into her chest for a soft kiss.

“Impressed?”

You giggle, nodding, moaning soft against her lips as the pair of you fumble towards Vi’s car.

“I was gonna say impulsive,” you say, slipping into the passenger’s seat. Vi starts the engine and rips out of the parking space and down the street before you even have the time to properly buckle in your seatbelt.

“Yeah. Wonder who I learned that from.”

She shoots you a cheeky grin, reaching over the center console to grab a handful of your thigh, squeezing just hard enough to make you groan.

The car’s not even properly parked before the pair of you are stumbling into her apartment building, her pressing you up against the elevator wall, lips caught on the junction of your neck, her teeth sinking into your delicate skin. She takes a savage satisfaction in the knowledge that you’ll be sporting that mark for the next five to seven business days, at least.

You’re barely through her door before she’s walking the pair of you towards her room, kicking open the door and almost toppling through. You giggle as she trips over something on her floor and fumbles for the light switch, flicking it on as light spills into her messy bedroom, the walls papered in posters — everything from bands to hockey stars to what looks like an outdated bikini-model calendar.

Your eyebrows kick up as you take in the scene, an amused grin playing at your lips

“Oh wow…” and there’s a lilt in your voice that makes Vi’s face go hot. She regrets not at least cleaning up the laundry on her bed as she shoves it off onto the floor with an arm.

“What? Not up to your standards, princess?”

You purse your lips, delicately picking your way across the room to plop down on her unmade bed.

“Y’know, I think that first frat house room might’ve been cleaner.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Your grin goes slanted as you toe off your heels and inch back onto the bed, your legs spreading just a bit wider. Vi’s breath goes still in her chest as you lean back slightly on your arms, your head cocking slowly to one side.

“Is that a promise, six?”

Vi groans, yanking her shirt from her back with a single hand, tossing it somewhere behind her, her fingers fumbling with her belt, kicking off her pants as she crawls onto the bed towards you.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, princess —”

Your lashes flicker as she pushes up the hem of your dress, letting out a low breath as she finally sets eyes on you, a curse puffing out of her as she reaches down to slick two fingers between the puffy lips of your sodden pussy.

You let out a soft whimper, your head lolling back, but when she lifts her head to look at you, it’s to find you watching her with dark, lidded eyes.

“I-I’ve always wondered… how’d you pick your number? Is it like… a ranking system o-or — ah — like — on a ten-point scale o-or — mmngh —”

Vi hums, watching your lashes feather across your cheek as she flicks her thumb around your throbbing clit, her blood a spring-water rush behind her ears as she feels you jerk beneath her.

“We really gotta do something about that mouth of yours, princess…” she murmurs before tugging her hand from between your legs and pressing her slick fingers to your lips. You mouth falls open just as easily as she remembers, and she has to swallow down another thick groan as you suck her fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirling around them to collect the taste of your own juices from her skin.

Your eyes flash open to meet hers, and the contact jolts right through her to her own aching cunt.

“Sweet fuck, pretty girl — I — I thought you said you’d never done this shit before?”

A tiny frown flickers across your forehead before you roll your eyes, giving her fingers a good hard suck before pulling back to lick your lips, sitting up slightly to tug her forward.

“I said I’d never really been on a date before — not that I’ve never had sex before.”

A startled breath stitches from Vi’s chest as you flip the pair of you till you’re straddling one of her muscular thighs, your own thigh pressing up between her legs to rub deliciously against her aching pussy.

She hisses out a breath as you roll your hips down over her leg, moaning low in your chest, your head falling back, the dress you’re wearing still rucked up at your waist.

“Those post-Gala parties can get… a little wild…” you say distractedly, picking up a slow rhythm, grinding down against her, your wetness slicking along her skin, making the most toe-curling noises every time you rock your hips forward and back.

Vi groans, reaching up to help you pull the dress off, her mind going fuzzy at the sight of your perfect tits, bouncing out of the tight black dress, your nipples hard and pebbling in the cool air of her room.

“F-fu-fuck that’s hot —” she says, leaning up to suck a nipple into her mouth, teasing her teeth over the sensitive flesh, grinning at the way it makes your hips stutter. She can’t help the quick little jerks of her own hips against your thigh as well, slotted along her clothed cunt, her boxers now well and soaked through.

“Vi — Vi —” you whine, the sound going straight to her clit as you rock down against her, your fingers reaching down to tug her closer.

“Y-yeah? Tell me, princess — wh-what do you want?”

She groans as you shift and your thigh presses harder against her, your own cunt squelching messily over her leg.

“Want — wanna ride your fingers —”

“Oh shit, yeah?” she swallows, adjusting back as you lift your hips up, “want my fingers inside you? How many d’you think you can take, princess? Hm?”

She pauses when she feels you scrabbling at the waistband of her boxers, a tiny laugh puffing from her at the pout on your face.

“Off,” you say, almost petulantly, as Vi shifts her own hips to jerk them off her legs, tossing the to one side.

“There, happy?”

You grin, sinking back over her thigh, looping your arms around her shoulders as she shifts her right hand beneath your sopping cunt and teases two fingers around your entrance.

“You never answered my question, sweet girl — how many fingers, hm?” she asks, even as you whine.

“Don’t — dunno — just — just wanna feel you inside me — please —”

Vi hums, watching your face as pleasure twists across your features.

“Then count for me — yeah? Can you do that?”

You nod, eager and desperate, and Vi chuckles, because she’s not sure if you even know what you’re agreeing to anymore. She pushes a finger passed your soaked folds and immediately feels you clench around her, the pressure making her own cunt squeeze. She hisses out a breath, rocking you down over her, shifting her hips to rut up against your leg.

“O-one —” you gasp, lifting your hips up to drop them back down again, your fingers digging into her skin of her back.

“More?” she asks, as you bounce a couple more times, and you nod, just as fervent as the first time, if not more so. She chuckles, “alright then —”

“T-two — oh — oh.”

She sinks another finger into you and revels in the way you keen, loud and high in the back of your throat, your head tossing back as you start to ride her fingers proper, your hair tumbling down around your shoulders. She reaches up with her free hand to fist a handful into her palm, yanking back slightly to bare your throat to her, groaning when she leans forward to suck another hard bruise into the skin of your collarbone.

“M-more — more Vi — want — want you to stretch me out — fuck — mm —”

“Fuck — shit — yeah? Want me to fuck you loose? That it?”

Vi’s head spins and she feels nearly delirious with want as she pushes a third finger into you, watching as your mouth falls open around a silent moan, your whole body shuddering around her. You’re so wet, so tight, and the growing ache between her own legs is starting to reach a fever pitch as she shamelessly rucks against your thigh, still slotted between her own.

“Yes, yes — fuck — Vi wanna — want you to stuff me full — fuck, fuck, fuck —”

“Shit, princess — so fuckin’ nasty — so needy —”

You nod, bouncing yourself so hard and fast that Vi has to take a second to marvel at how strong your legs are. She thanks the heavens for the innate athleticism required for figure skating before her thoughts smear into a crackling mess of pleasure as you inch your hand into the space between her cunt and your legs — your fingers pressing messily between her folds.

“Vi, Violet — can I — wanna feel you — want y-you to feel good too —”

Vi nearly loses it then, nodding, spreading her own legs wider to give you more access as you work three fingers into her sloppy cunt with no warning.

“F-fuck!”

You curl your fingers and Vi swears she starts to see stars.

“Y-yeah? Feel good?”

Vi nearly whimpers as she feels you pump your fingers up into the tender bundle of nerves inside her, her own fingers squelching noisily as you fuck yourself down on them. It’s all too much, and before she knows it, the tension in her stomach is snapping like a thread, her cunt pulsing around your fingers as her orgasm shakes through her, white pops of pleasure sparking behind her eyes.

“Mm — holy shit — oh my god… fuck —” she gulps down air, blinking her eyes as the shape of you comes back into focus above her, the buzzing inside her head still ringing with the aftermath of her high. She notes, vaguely, that you’re smiling down at her, a second before you lean down to press your lips to hers in a sweet kiss.

Vi hums into the kiss, her breath hitching slightly as she feels you pull your fingers from her. And when you pull back to pop them into your mouth, she feels another shudder work through her. Somewhere in the back of her head, there’s a small voice chanting holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck how did I get so lucky? over and over again till it becomes the baseline thrum that drives her to lean up, pushing you down onto your back with a hazy, indulgent smile.

“C’mere, princess — as much as I love watching you ride me —” she inches her way down your body, trailing a few kisses down your chest, pausing to circle her tongue around your nipples just to make you arch up into her. She drops a few lingering kisses down the line of your abs, before puffing a hot breath over your throbbing clit, her fingers spreading your dripping cunt lips open.

She swallows, groaning to herself.

“I’ve been dreaming about tasting you for weeks.”

You let out a soft whine above her, and she feels your fingers sinking into her hair. She glances up and marvels at the sight of your body, laid bare like this above her mess of sheets, writhing for her as she finally drops her mouth to you, licking a long strip along your slit, her eyes nearly rolling back at the taste of you soaking her tongue.

“A-ah! Vi!”

It doesn’t take long after that, a few good, hard sucks on your clit, and her pushing three fingers back into you, and you’re coming apart for her, your thighs shaking as you whine and jerk and gasp your way through your orgasm, Vi fucking you through it slow, leaning up to press a kiss to your shoulder as your breaths start to even out and your lashes flicker open again.

“Hey there, princess,” she grins.

You’re still a little breathless, but you pull her down for another long kiss, tracing her jaw with your thumb.

“Hey,” you answer, pulling away.

Vi chuckles, slumping down on to the bed next to you to stare at the pebbled ceiling. The warmth of her old Christmas lights casting everything in a soft, diffused glow. She feels you shift and tuns to find you looking at her, your cheek pillowed on your arm.

She shifts to mirror your position, reaching out a hand to stroke your cheek.

You catch her hand with a smile, wrapping your fingers around hers as you say —

“Six. I get it now.”

Vi frowns. “What?”

You splay your palm over hers, touching the tip of her pointer finger with yours as you start to count.

“One, two, three —” you say, a mischievous grin twisting your lips as you point to her middle and ring finger, before pointing to your own hand, “four, five, six,” you finish, wiggling the three fingers that had so recently been shoved into her throbbing cunt.

Vi stares at you for a solid few seconds before she shoves her face into her pillow and screams.

“Oh my god — get the fuck outta here!” but she surfaces laughing, and you’re laughing too, and the sound is so intoxicating, so mind-numbingly lovely that she thinks if she could, she’d grind your laughter into powder and get high on the lines of your smile.

She inches forward to pull you closer, tucking you into her chest.

“You’re insane, you know that?” she asks, pressing her lips to your forehead as you giggle. You wiggle your arms around her middle till your bodies are pressed curve for curve, skin to skin. And you settle against her as if you were always made to be there to begin with.

“Mm, been told a few times…” you murmur, your voice soft.

A tiny clink jars both of you from your post-orgasmic stupor, and you both pull back, only to find your necklaces linked — the pendants stuck together with a pair of tiny magnets set at the point of each teardrop, so small that Vi hadn’t noticed when you’d first given it to her.

“Oh, I didn’t get to show you this back in the locker rooms but…” you reach up to tug the two pendants apart before letting them snap back together.

“The necklaces come as a pair and they link together like this —” you show her the two pendants, the shape something like an hourglass or the two rabbit ears of a perfectly tied bow.

“That’s cute, but… what’s it supposed to be? A time-turner thing?” Vi pushes herself up on an elbow to try and get a better look.

You shake your head, pouting slightly.

“Nope! Well, I mean, it’s sold as an infinity symbol cause —” you roll your eyes, “forever and all that crap —”

Vi smirks, “Oh yeah. That crap.”

You shoot her a look before continuing, your cheeks burning, “But… it reminded me of a figure eight. You do those in hockey too, right?”

Vi nods, “Yeah, they’re drills that we run. Pretty basic.”

You nod, “And in figure skating, we used to have these mandatory figures we’d have to skate to demonstrate our edge control — hence the name figure skating. Amara still makes us do them, because she’s old fashioned as all hell, but I just thought… it was kinda nice… for the two of us…” your voice trails off as you drop your hand and the two pendants hang, suspended between the pair of you with nothing but their own magnetism.

Vi licks her lips, “Yeah… it is nice.”

She leans in, tilts your head up for a kiss, but you tug back just an inch.

“Vi…?”

“Hm? What is it?”

You blink up at her, a flash of uncertainty flickering behind your eyes as you glance down at her lips.

“We’re… we’re dating now… right?”

Vi stares. And stares. And then, she pulls back with a dramatic groan.

“Oh my god, you did not just seriously hit me with the what are we after we’ve just fucked each other into another dimension, after I’ve been wearing the necklace that you gave me, the one that matches your necklace —”

You scramble forward to push Vi down, yelping.

“Okay! Okay — I’m sorry! It’s just —”

Vi raises her eyebrows, pinning you with a look even though you’re perched above her, your hands clamped over her wrists.

“Neither of us ever properly asked the other one out, and — and I know you said girlfriend in front of Caitlyn back at the party but —”

“Hey princess?”

You break off, blinking as she pushes up and settles you over her lap.

Vi smiles, tugging your chin towards her.

“Will you go out with me?”

The smile that breaks across your lips is so pretty, so tooth-achingly sweet that Vi thinks she just has to lean forward and taste it.

So, she does.

You nod, breathless even as she chases your lips, breaking the kiss with a gasp.

“Yes — yes… I will.”

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mariasont · 3 months ago

Note

i loved lipgloss!!! i was wondering if i could pls request smth where spencer walks in the BAU unaware of the lipgloss on his lips from kissing bimbo!receptionist or on his cheeks from being kissed then everyone's like "👀☝️🤨" (english isnt my first language im sorry😭)

STICKY SITUATIONS - S.R

a/n: back with the lipstick trope yeehaw, can't tell you all how much i appreicate u all and how patient u guys are with me when i ghost for like 5 months at a time. thank you so much for the request sug <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

warnings: spencer daydreaming about inappropriate things! PDA!

wc: 1.1k

Spencer woke up feeling untouchable, like nothing in the world could shake him. The kind of invincible where even the sky didn't seem like a limit. You had stayed the night, as you often did, and yet every time he woke up with you beside him, it felt like walking on air. Today was no exception.

You made sure he was late today--both of you were. He blamed you entirely, though he didn't mind. You pinned him down with a thousand little kisses, laughing as you insisted that it's essential for a day filled with good luck, and how else was he going to catch all the bad guys without a little charm from you?

Spencer's body vibrated like it was attuned to some invisible, higher frequency, one you alone could set. The smile threatening to break free felt inevitable, like a law of nature, as his mind drifted to thoughts of you--so unavoidable it was as if trying to pinpoint an electron's exact position and momentum in time.

He had half a mind to swing by the reception desk just to see you. Just for a second. He'd convince himself it was enough, even though it never really was. Today, though? There was no chance he'd make it to his meeting. Not when you were wearing that skirt--his favorite. The one that fit you like it had been hand-stitched by hand for you alone, showing off your thighs in a way that made him picture them around his--

"Reid, you're—," Hotch's voice snapped him back into reality, his brows down turning as he regarded Spencer with a curious frown before shaking his head. "Late. C'mon."

Spencer followed Hotch into the conference room, their entrance as routine as ever--or so he assumed. But the moment they stepped inside, something shifted. The air crackled with stifled laughter, a ripple of poorly contained snickers breaking out across the team.

He froze mid-step, confusion knitting his brow as he scanned the room. His gaze flitted from face to face, trying to uncover the source of their amusement. The laughter, he realized with growing bewilderment, was somehow aimed squarely at him.

His pulse quickened as self-awareness kicked in, and his eyes darted downward, trying to detect the anomaly that had captured everyone's damn attention. A loose thread? A stain? Panic bloomed in his chest as he mentally ticked through a list of possibilities. His sweater seemed intact--no wayward strings. His pants were fine, no errant coffee stains or wrinkles. And his hair--well, his hair always had a mind of its own, but it wasn't that unruly today. Right?

Bastards.

He cleared his throat. "Okay, what did I miss?"

Emily tried--and failed--to stifle her laughter, shaking her head in disbelief. "I think you might need to go to look in the mirror, lover boy."

Spencer didn't bother questioning her. No explanation would be offered, at least not freely. He knew he'd get no real answers from this group, and honestly, he wasn't even sure he wanted them at this point. Instead, he slipped out of the conference room and headed down the hall, his mind a muddled tangle of confusion.

He was so distracted--so consumed with trying to figure out what he'd missed--that he nearly missed the sound of quick, approaching footsteps. It was only at the last second that he looked up, just in time for you to collide with him. His hands moved instinctively, catching your waist as you stumbled forward, stopping you from toppling over.

Spencer's breath caught. Gods know if you'd fallen in those heels, you'd be lucky to escape with just a sprained ankle. But you didn't fall. Instead, you let out a startled giggle as you looked up at him wide-eyed.

"Whoopsie," you said with a smile. "Hi there, handsome."

The instant the words left your lips, you clamped a hand over your mouth, fighting back a high-pitched squeal of laughter.

Spencer, even more bewildered, furrowed his brows in confusion. "Okay, what?"

"Hold still," you instructed, though your voice wavered between stifled giggles. You reached up for him, your fingertips hovering near his face.

He followed your hand with his eyes, still clueless, until you gently cupped his cheek. Whatever it was on his skin drew another wave of laughter from you, and in response, he prodded at your sides, each poke sending you into another fit of delighted squeals.

"Hey, that's not holding still, Dr.!" you gasped, halfheartedly swatting at his hands while you finished wiping away the last bit of whatever had clung to his face.

"Whoopsie daisy," you said again, still brushing invisible flecks from his cheek, your voice reminding him of what he envisioned sunshine poured into a teacup would manifest as. "Aw, Spence, looks like I kinda-sorta-maybe left a tiny little lipstick stain behind."

Your tone was drenched in honeyed innocence, as if this kind of thing just happened and you had no earthly clue how.

Spencer's eyes narrowed. "Is that why I've been subjected to my team's thinly veiled harassment?"

Your eyes went wide, and you gasped as if you'd just witnessed a high crime. "They were giving you trouble? Oh my gosh!" You pressed your fingertips to your lips. "Do I need to have a word with them?"

The determination in your voice sounded all too serious, and he was a little scared that you were actually prepared to march back to that conference room in your pretty heels and give the entire BAU a piece of your mind.

Spencer nearly chocked on a laugh. Of all possible reactions, yours was the sweetest, most fiercely protective--and downright hilarious. He held up a hand in a placating gesture, lips curving into a boyish grin.

"Hmm, I appreciate the offer," he murmured, gently tapping his chin with a finger as if considering it. "However, I think you might need to have a word with the real culprit who decided my face should double as her personal canvas this morning."

"Me?" You pressed a hand dramatically to your heart. "I would never! I mean, sure, I might've given you a million good-luck kisses before you left, and maybe one or two... or three of my lip gloss stains decided to stick around, but that's hardly my fault!"

You shifted your weight to the balls of your feet and wiggled your fingers in a helpless sort of gesture. "That's just how good my gloss is, y'know?"

"Right," he replied, voice quieter now, eyes warm as they traced your face. "Clearly the lip gloss is at fault. We'll have to issue it a stern warning later."

"Exactly! Don't blame poor, innocent me." You paused, lowering your voice conspiratorially, leaning close enough that he caught the faint scent of your perfume. "And if any of the team give you grief again, you know where to find me!"

Spencer hummed, placing a light hand on the small of your back, steering you gently away from the corridor.

"I'll keep that in mind," he murmured, smiling as if the world had just aligned perfectly in that very hallway. "But for now, maybe we should try to make sure I get back to my meeting... gloss-free."

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#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x bimbo reader #spencer reid x bimbo!reader #spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 8 months ago

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anniversary antics

pairing: joel miller x f! reader

cw/tags: pwp, breeding kink (literally that's the fic), unprotected p in v (duh), dirty talk, established relationship (they're happily married?!), not beta read, written in one evening

summary: literally breeding kink

wc: 1.3k words

taglist | ko-fi | masterlist

You’d always heard that married couples don’t have sex very often. You’d been warned about these ‘dead bedrooms’ by friends of yours, read about it on the internet – it was basically common knowledge.

Maybe there’s some truth to it, but you wouldn’t know because you married Joel Miller who gets older and sexier every day. Joel Miller, your husband who took you out to a nice dinner for your anniversary and sat across from you acting all polite and charming in his brand new suit, your husband who ripped your dress off the moment he got you through your front door.

Now you lie naked under him, already disheveled and ready to take whatever he’ll give you. You’re face-to-face with the man who makes you weak like no other. You affect him equally, you drive him wild, fill him with a fiery need that surpasses all other desires.

Though it takes all of your mental fortitude to fight the pull of arousal, your sensible self still peeks through for a moment.

“Joel, I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating right now.”

Joel slips back into his serious, practical, typical demeanor easily. A completely different man from the one who was sucking marks into the taut skin of your neck just a moment ago.

“Okay. You want me to pull out or do you wanna use a condom?” he asks as if those are the only two options.

“We can do whatever you want.” You shouldn’t tell him what you want.

“It’s not just about me. It’s your body, baby.” He leans in and whispers his next words into the shell of your ear: “tell me what you want.”

His voice is low and commanding. It makes you nervous for all the wrong reasons. You should be worrying about the consequences of doing this while you’re ovulating, you should be assessing the risks, but you can only think of the reward.

“I, uh- what if you didn’t do either of those things?”

“You mean you want me to cum inside you? Is that it?” He remains straight-faced, seemingly unfazed by something that’s been a kink you’ve kept secret for so long, believing it to be too taboo.

He’s not even inside you yet, he’s looming over you, skin barely ghosting over yours, but his words alone make you exhale a breathy moan, and he knows.

“You do want that, huh?” He gets that cocky grin on his face, proud of himself for figuring out what makes you tick, though it was hardly a mystery.

One of his hands remains by your head, balancing himself above you while the other is wrapped around his dick as he drags the head along your folds.

You grip the pillow and turn your head to the side, burying your face in it, determined not to let him hear the sounds coming from your mouth right now.

“I know how bad you want it, baby, but I think she wants it even more than you do,” he says, focusing on your cunt, playing with it and reveling in the lewd sounds that come with every swipe of his tip along your slit. “Listen to that,” he says

He’s silent for a second, letting you hear the slick noises of your wetness.

“I need you to look at me, sweetheart.” He ceases his teasing between your legs and brings his hand up to your face to cup your chin.

Hesitant to meet his eyes but desperate to have him inside you, you give in and look at him.

“Baby, she’s cryin’ ‘cause she needs it so bad. Are we gonna give it to her?”

“Only if you want to.” Translation: yes, please.

His tone is deeper, voice thick with conviction, when he replies. “Baby, you have no idea how bad I want it.”

You shouldn’t be surprised, and yet you are.

“Gimme your hand,” he says. “I want you to feel how hard I am right now.”

You oblige, let him take your hand and guide you to wrap your palm around his cock. It twitches in your grasp. “I didn’t know it could get this hard,” you say.

“Only when I’m with you.”

You shift your hips while you hold his cock steady lining it up with your entrance. “Please,” you whine, gazing up into his eyes.

His answer isn’t verbal. He eases into you, letting you feel his length stroke your inner walls as he gradually presses himself deeper.

“It feels so good,” you moan.

You wrap your arms around him, holding onto him like you’re afraid you’ll lose him.

“I know.” His voice is raspier now, barely hiding his own desperation. “Baby, just so you know, if you want me to stop-”

“-No! Don’t stop.” You wrap your legs around his hips, keeping him inside you, using your heels to force him even deeper.

He laughs – so much as one can when they’re running out of breath. “Or if you want me to pull out.” There’s a glint in his eye, he’s not ‘checking in with you’, he’s teasing you. “If you don’t want me to get you pregnant…”

On cue, your walls clench around him, betraying any facade of composure, and the smirk is already waiting on his face.

“I knew it,” he says. “You want me to get you knocked up, huh?”

In a haze, eyes half-lidded and empty of all thoughts but Joel getting you pregnant, you mumble in agreement, “uh-huh.”

“I could put a baby in you right now,” he says as if it’s some revelation. He continues to act flippant to tease you, but it’s getting to him too – you can hear it in his voice, rough and raspy.

The coil inside you tightens, so close to snapping, you can feel it. “Joel, I’m gonna cum.” It’s urgent, a warning, not a plea.

“Mm-hmm. You can cum for me. But I’m not gonna stop until I get you pregnant, baby.”

And that’s what brings you over the edge. Your walls clench around him, keeping him inside you, and your nails drag down his back, leaving marks, claiming him, knowing he’s about to make you his too.

You cum so hard you nearly scream but it’s all unintelligible aside from his name.

He doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath as he chases his own orgasm. All you can do is cling to him and sob out your pleas as you continue to soak the sheets.

“Look how deep I am, baby,” he says, eyeing the bulge his cock makes in your abdomen. “Gotta make sure I cum deep inside you if I wanna get you knocked up tonight.”

Joel’s not usually this talkative during sex. He’s the kind of guy to swear through gritted teeth and grunt with every thrust, but now, he’s talking dirty to you like he’s an expert. Like he’s practiced. Maybe in his head, he has.

It’s the look on your face, the way you can’t seem to shake yourself out of your last orgasm while teetering on the edge of the next, the way you’re losing yourself to your own pleasure that spurs him on.

“You feel so good, baby. I’m getting’ real close.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah?” His hand snakes its way downward so that his thumb can circle your clit in time with his thrusts.

His hips falter and he cums deep inside you with a low groan. You’re so caught up in your own that you struggle to focus on him. You want to see him, but your eyes screw shut when the intense pleasure courses through you. You gush around him, leaving him equally as messy as he leaves you.

Basking in the post-orgasm bliss, you slowly regain your senses.

“I could really be pregnant,” you say

“I doubt it,” he says.

“Why’s that?”

“Just my intuition.” He shrugs and a small smile graces his lips before he adds, “but we can always try again.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #miss oranje fics

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kamiversee · 11 months ago

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Sharing Is Caring ꨄ (part 1/3)

[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ Sure, your boyfriend Choso gets jealous from time to time but that doesn’t mean you have the right to put him on sex-ban. Hence why he’ll show you he actually has no issues with sharing you (with a certain person).

[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.

[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, lots of teasing and taunting, language, heavy sexual tension, buildup to a threesome, & two guys who are completely infatuated with you ^.^

[ { Parings } ] ➤ Choso x f!reader & Gojo x f!reader.

[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 6.7k

“Oh my god Choso, shut up,” You whined, brows tense and eyes narrowed at your boyfriend who you’ve been arguing with for the past twenty minutes.

Choso scoffs, “Excuse me?” He tests, trying to see if he really heard what you just said to him, “Wanna repeat that f’me?”

With an annoyed roll of your eyes, “I said shut up. You just got home and you’re already starting up with this shit again. Choso, I’m not taking you off of sex-ban.”

Dating Choso is… an experience, to say the least. Sure, he’s a wonderful boyfriend and overall the perfect man for you but, that doesn’t mean you two don’t have your arguments or periods of being upset with one another.

Again, he’s amazing and all but there are times like now where you and him really get into it. He’s stressed out and you’re frustrated— both of which don’t make the best combination.

You’re standing by his living room couch watching him tug off his jacket. Choso’s face is ticked off but he won’t stop looking at you. As for you, your eyes are everywhere else except for his.

“Baby, it’s been three weeks. Three,” He emphasizes, “I can go without sex perfectly fine but you barely even touch me now.”

“Well this is what you get for being an overly jealous boyfriend,” You say with a scoff.

Choso cocks his head to the side and his eyes narrow, “What was I supposed to do that day, huh? Just sit there and watch some guy openly flirt with you like I’m not standing right next to you?”

“You’re being dramatic,” You tell him bluntly, arms crossing over one another, “I told you numerous times before, that if you kept up the jealous act I’d put you on sex-ban, and now; here we are and you’re complaining about it.”

“It’s not the sex-ban, baby. Did you even hear what I just said?” Choso asks. He then takes a single step closer to where you are, “You don’t touch me, hug me, or even kiss me as much anymore and it’s been three weeks.”

A nonchalant little shrug is given to him, “Maybe if you didn’t scold your girlfriend for someone else’s actions, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now-“

“I already apologized for that so I don’t understand why I’m not receiving any sort of affection from you,” Choso cuts off. As he nears you, his hand goes down to his belt and he starts to unbuckle it, clearly unwinding after his long day of work.

Your eyes just barely glance over to him and down at his hands fumbling with his belt. Then, you scan your boyfriend up and down and mentally curse yourself for being upset with him right now because fuck is he too attractive for his own good.

You swallow thickly and lift your gaze to his face, only to meet his eyes already on yours. For a moment, you maintain eye contact but then, you glance off to the side again, “Because all sorts of affection always lead to something more and I banned you from sex for a reason,” You explain with a sigh.

“Yeah well, how long do I have to go through this hell, huh?” He asks, tone stern and aggravated with you.

“Hell?” You scoff, “Choso you know there are other things to our relationship outside of sex-“

“Clearly you’re not hearin’ me,” He cuts off yet again, shaking his head at you as he tugs his belt off and walks even closer to you.

Unconsciously, you take a step back and Choso kisses his teeth as you do so before he tosses his belt on the couch along with the jacket he recently took off.

With a long sigh, Choso brings a hand up to his face and wipes it, as if that’ll help him focus his thoughts. Then, he voices out your name and you tense up a little, “It’s not about the sex,” He says yet again, slowly turning his head to you, “You don’t touch me anymore. Do you know how depriving that is?”

You shrug again, “It’s not the first time you’ve gone without my touch Choso, get over it-“

“Baby you practically live with me now,” He interrupts, “I wake up in the same bed as you almost every morning and when I try to hug you, you’re pulling away from me.”

“Again, every touch leads to something else,” You repeat, frustrated with your boyfriend and how he’s making such a big deal out of this.

Choso’s eyes narrow and a vein pops out in his forehead, “Do you think I lack that much self-control? If you put me on sex-ban then you put me on sex-ban. I have enough restraint to respect that, princess.”

You release a huff, “Okay, well-“

“Well what?” He cuts off impatiently.

Your face twists up, “Well if you’d let me—,” You blink and notice how close he’s gotten to you, your head angling up just a bit to make eye contact with him as he stands hardly an inch away from you. God, he smells good, “F-Finish…” You gulp, “I-I’m not an idiot Choso, you and I both know that self-control or no, when you’re pent up, you get more needy and I always let you have your way.”

“Are you listening to anything I’m saying to you?” Choso asks, head tipping to the side for a moment before he’s leaning down to you, “No seriously, are you rendering the words coming out of my mouth, love?” He asks almost in a way that makes you feel small.

A scowl washes over your expression as your eyes meet his once more, “Yes I’m rendering the words coming out of your mouth, Choso. Are you comprehending anything I’m saying to you?”

“I am.” He hums.

“Okay then why are we still having this conversation?” You ask in a dull tone, voice a bit softer now that he’s all close to you.

Choso cracks a little smirk but he still sounds annoyed, “Because you haven’t laid a finger on me in five days.”

“Choso-“

“That’s a hundred and twenty hours without a single touch from you,” He explains, eyes boring into yours.

Your brows raise and you snicker, “You can’t be serious-“

“It’s been seven days since I last felt your arms around me,” He continues, his body inching closer to your own.

You don’t move away this time and simply keep your eyes directly on his, “Why are you keeping track?”

“Sixteen days since you last kissed me,” Choso recalls, his voice getting lower.

“Oh come on-“

His hand is suddenly placed on your waist and he tugs your body up against his, “And three weeks since we’ve had sex.”

Your breath hitches a bit as your chest clashes with his and you keep your arms and hands everywhere except on him, pretty much proving all the points he just made.

Were you really trying not to touch Choso for the past three weeks? Yes. Is that because you’re worried about him getting carried away? No, you’re worried about you getting carried away. You know Choso has self-control but, it’s you who lacks it sometimes.

Swallowing hard, “Choso…” You murmur carefully.

“Baby I’m starved,” He nearly groans out, both his arms wrapping around your waist while his face inclines toward your own, “I need something from you-, anything.”

You bite down on your lower lip and stare at your boyfriend’s face. He’s so close to you, so desperate for you— it was cute how needy he was.

Purposefully, you lean closer to him and his eyes sink to your lips immediately as they nearly press into his own. Then, you stop a hair away from him, teasing him-, torturing him, “Not until you fix your jealousy issue,” You whisper to the man.

Oh Choso’s losing his mind right now. The urge he has to just press his lips into your plush ones is simply killing him. The arms around your waist tighten and his eyes are pleading with you.

“Baby please?” Choso begs, voice laced with the faintest whine.

You nearly folded at the sound of his begging. Hell, your eyelids began to lower and you wanted to kiss him just as badly as he wanted a kiss from you. You know just one won’t hurt but the fact that it’s been three weeks worries you.

He’s not the only one all pent up and starved, nor does he have any idea how horny you’ve been the past few weeks.

There was a day he came home from the gym and you watched him snatch his sweaty shirt off his body. You swore you were drooling for your boyfriend at the time because he’d been working out excessively just for you.

That was the last day you ended up kissing Choso because as soon as he went and showered, you were all over him. It was hard to control yourself when he smelled so good and his hair was all loose and damp with water— soft groans leaving his throat every time you pressed your lips to his jaw.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t considering eating him up that day. But, you managed to get ahold of yourself at the time and just barely pried your body away from his.

As of right now on the other hand… Your hands are carefully lifting to his arms, gently feeling his muscles through his clothes as your faces remain close to one another.

You wanted to kiss him so badly. It won’t hurt, right?

Slowly, your arms lift up even more and soon wrap around his neck— to which Choso’s breathing picks up and his heart rate increases. The smallest touches from you were already driving him crazy and his hands began to explore your back a little.

“Just one,” You whisper to the man, “One kiss, okay?”

Choso’s nodding eagerly, “Okay.”

The two of you are leaning in, anticipation bubbling in the pits of both of your stomachs as your lips gaze his and he gets the faintest touch of your skin— only to be interrupted by the sudden buzzing of your phone in your pocket.

You pull away and glance down and Choso swears his eye twitches. He was so close, he almost felt your lips again, your pretty soft and heaven-sent lips almost touched his, and yet someone had the nerve to interrupt.

Choso groans and you try to reach in your pocket for your phone but he suddenly smacks your hand away and reaches in your pocket himself.

You frown, “Choso-“

“Who’s callin’ us?” He cuts off. He sounds more pissed off than he was earlier.

The second his eyes lay on the contact written across your screen, he scoffs. The timing couldn’t have been better.

You move to try and see what he’s looking at but Choso shifts his hand on you and pushes your body away.

“Choso what the hell? Who’s calling-“

“You said I’ve been too jealous of a boyfriend, right?” Choso interrupts, his lips curving into a faint smirk before he lifts his gaze to you.

You nod slowly and wearily, “Y-Yeah, but what does that have to do with whoever’s calling m-“

“I’ll answer it for you, baby,” Choso says sweetly before flashing you a smile.

Your brows pinch together and you blink, “Who is it-“

He ignores your question and lifts the phone to his ear, “Hello?”

Someone speaks back to him but you’ve got no idea who.

“Ohhh, you called on accident? Yeah, no, I get that, happens to the best of us,” Choso hums with a shrug.

He seems all too calm and casual about this so you’re mentally trying to figure out who the hell could’ve called you to where your boyfriend is talking so calmly.

You just stand and watch in confusion for a minute as he continues his conversation.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Choso chuckles a bit but there’s a slight vein peeping against his jawline, “Nah man you’re fine. Actually, since I’ve got you on the phone, can I ask you somethin’?”

Your eyes widen and your heart is beating all over the damn place. Slowly, you try to get closer to your boyfriend, “Choso, who-“

He cuts you off by placing a single finger to your lips, quite literally shushing you. You’re taken back by his action and ticked off by his rude gesture.

“You used to fuck my girlfriend, right?” The man questions bluntly. Your entire face gets hot and you’re not sure if that’s because you’re pissed off or because you’re flustered.

Who the hell could he be talking to? Suguru? No, Choso doesn’t get along with him that well… Who else has your number that you’ve-

Gojo.

Your eyes go wide and you move to reach for your phone and snatch it from Choso’s hand but he swiftly and smoothly evades your attempt, mockingly scoffing at you.

“Choso what the hell is wrong with you? Give me my phone-“

Your boyfriend smiles at you. He finds entertainment in how ticked off you are and it only makes you angrier. Especially when he shakes his head no and moves away from you.

Then he has the nerve to laugh, “Yes, I do know the answer to that already. But my question still stands and I’d like to hear it from you since I have you on the phone,” Choso speaks.

You’re still following him around and trying to get your phone from him but he just moves and weaves all of your reaches.

“Yeahh see? There’s the confidence I was lookin’ for,” He says to the male over the phone, “So…” Choso makes eye contact with you and your heart sinks as his words come out, “Wanna do it again?”

The man on the call chokes on air so loudly that even you hear it despite not being near the phone. Then you hear a nervous chuckle, one that’s all too familiar to you.

You fold your arms at your boyfriend, who simply winks at you. “Choso, what are you-“

“Shut up,” He says to you sternly, “You said I’m too jealous of a boyfriend so now I’m trying to change that.”

“By being a fuckin’ asshole?” You spit out to him, both confused and annoyed by everything right now.

“No,” Choso negates, smiling sweetly at you again, “By calling someone over to please my pretty lil’ girlfriend since she won’t let me do it.”

You blink, “What? Choso-“

“Huh? What was that?” He interrupts, his attention back on the phone call, “Yes I was being serious. I-, oh…” His expression dips a little, “T-There’s a word for that kinda thing?”

You wish you could hear the entirety of this conversation because you’re so confused as to where this is going.

“Ohhh, then yeah,” Choso nods his head and looks at you with a smile, “I guess you could call me that—,” Something is said over the phone and he laughs, “What? No, she doesn’t know. Or, she didn’t know but, she’ll find out soon enough right?”

“Find out what soon enough-,” He starts walking away from you and you move to follow him, “Choso!”

You’re ignored as his conversation continues and eventually, Choso walks into his bedroom, shuts the door in your face, and locks it.

You stand there for a while staring at the door in disbelief of your boyfriend. What the hell just happened? What the actual fuck is going on??

You go to knock on the door, “Choso, open the door!” You shout.

The sound of him still chatting it up with Gojo over the phone is heard and you’re feeling all too many emotions at once. From annoyance to anger to confusion and even very faint arousal, you were completely baffled.

Another groan pours from your lips and after beating your hand against the door for maybe five minutes or so, awaiting some kind of response from your boyfriend, you just give up and stomp off.

Annoyed beyond belief, you make your way back into the living room, grab his things, and toss them onto the floor before plopping down on the couch.

You hastily grab the nearby remote and press play on the TV, bringing your thumb to your lip and chewing on your nail a bit as you try to distract yourself from whatever the fuck your lovely boyfriend is talking about with Gojo Satrou.

Somewhere deep down, you think you’re thankful Gojo called when he did because you almost kissed Choso again and you knew you’d let him take things further if he wanted to. If Choso thinks he’s deprived, he’s got another thing coming because you’ve been aching for it.

Doesn’t he know it’s just as difficult for you not to touch him as it is for him not to be touched? Does he not realize how much of a tease he can be? How in the middle of the night, he’d snuggle into your back and his crotch would press into your ass? Waking you up horny and frustrated?

You scoff. Choso doesn’t even realize how whenever he comes home from his job, he looks so stupidly handsome undressing himself— slight grunts and groans leaving those soft lips of his as he does so.

Then, even when you were hugging him, he’d bury his face into the crook of your neck and his every exhale and inhale made your heart skip a beat.

Oh and let’s not forget how simple phone calls and text messages were enough to get you worked up. It’d be so random too how Choso would text you as you’re in class. Something simple like Baby I miss you would have your heart throbbing and your smile unwavering.

There was one weekend where Choso left town to go visit his two younger brothers and he called you late that night. His voice was deep, husked even, and his breathing was a bit unsteady as he told you he was trying to go to sleep but he couldn’t because he started thinking about you…

Thus leading to him with a painful boner. Then, to make matters worse, not only did he end up sending you a video of what you do to him even when you’re not around but, he had the nerve to return home that week looking fucking perfect.

His face had seemed clearer, his skin was as smooth as ever, he smelled heavenly, and of course— of course Choso decided to come home and touch all over your body, claiming to have missed you terribly.

He was such a fucking tease. And he knows it too, Choso knows what he does to you. He sees it in your face all the time— hears it in your voice.

Which is all exactly why he couldn’t bear with you reducing your touches. That’s what caused the argument today as he came home.

Normally, if you were at Choso’s apartment when he got off of work, which you have been more-so in the past few months, you’d rush to him and greet him at his door. Before the sex-ban, you’d help him undress and smother his face in kiss after kiss, telling him how much you missed him, etc.

And of course he appreciated this more than anything. Hence why he’d constantly note that because you do little things like that, he swears to put a ring on your finger if you’d let him.

Even so, ever since you told Choso you weren’t gonna have sex with him for a while, you stopped doing so. Which is all why he’s upset and you’re frustrated. Maybe you should just drop the sex-ban…

Or maybe just touch him more like he wants and learn some self-control. But, it’s not like it’s your fault your boyfriend is so irresistible. How are you supposed to keep your hands off him-

There’s a sudden knock on the front door and you flinch out of your thoughts. You’d been so caught up with them that you hadn’t even realized thirty minutes had gone by and you still didn’t have your phone, nor did Choso come out of his room.

Instead of moving a muscle, you groan, “Cho, someone’s at the door!”

There’s no response for a minute and your groan deepens as you toss your head back against the couch and frown.

“Choso!” You shout, voice projecting throughout his apartment.

“What?!” He shouts back from his bedroom.

You turn your head toward the direction of his hallway, “There’s someone at the door!”

Neither of you has moved an inch and both of you are just shouting across his home, “You can’t answer it?” He asks.

“You’re closer!” You argue.

Choso chuckles and then his voice gets a bit louder as he cracks his door open to yell, “It’s for you anyway!”

“I-,” You blink and then let off a scoff as you spring up from the couch, “Tch, it’s for you anyway…” You say under your breath, mocking your boyfriend in an annoyed tone.

Everything he was doing was pissing you off and you had half a mind to head back to your apartment. Every step you took was heavy and you wanted Choso to hear how agitated you were.

“Can’t even answer the fuckin’ door…” You grumble to yourself as your hand reaches for the knob, unlocks the door, and goes to open it, “…Getting on my goddamn-,” You swing the door open and your eyes immediately widen, “…N-Nerves,” You whisper out to finish your statement.

In front of you stands Gojo Satoru. All six foot three of him, bright fluffy white hair, black t-shirt, grey sweatpants, angelically handsome face, and stupid rose-tinted lips pulled into a smug grin standing right in front of you.

You had to blink once, maybe twice-, perhaps three or four times to figure out if you were seeing things before you scoff, “Satoru?”

Cocking his head to the side, “Trouble in paradise?” Gojo comments in response, voice just as playful as you remember it.

“W-What the fuck are you doing here?” You breathe out, brows tensing and confusion taking over.

Gojo’s shoulders lift into a casual shrug, “I was invited, duh.”

You stare. Then, slowly and carefully, you start nodding as you move to shut the door on him. Maybe you were dreaming?

A hand is pressed to the edge of the door, an arm nearing your head as this hand comes from behind you, and the door is pulled open. You instantly jump as your boyfriend seemed to have simply appeared right behind you and you swear your heart was pounding out of your chest.

Lips near your ear and Choso’s voice is smooth as he speaks to you, “C’mon baby, don’t be rude to our guest,” He murmurs to you, deep voice caressing your eardrums and making you lose all your thoughts for a moment.

You quickly snap out of it and whirl your head around to look at the dark-haired man, “Choso, what the hell is going on-“

“Oh c’monnn,” Gojo suddenly speaks, “You heard your boyfriend,” He chuckles and you turn to him, eyes going wide as he leans down to you, “Don’t be rude to your guest,” Gojo murmurs.

He was so close that you could smell the faint mint coming from his mouth. His proximity worried you and you stepped back, only to run into Choso and your entire backside to bump into him. Your boyfriend places a hand on your waist and tugs you back a bit to give space for Gojo to walk in.

Never in your life have you been more confused than you are as you watch Gojo Satoru enter your boyfriend Choso’s apartment.

Then, Choso leans over just a little so that he can shut the door but he doesn’t move from behind you. Your eyes are all over Gojo’s face, asking him a million questions with your gaze alone.

Gojo starts snickering, “Sweets, if you have a question, just ask-“

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You blurt out, tone heated before you proceed to give him no time to respond. You’re then turning to Choso, “What the hell is going on?”

Your boyfriend stares at you innocently, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yeah, you’re a smart girl, you can figure it out,” Gojo chastises.

You swear you’re about two seconds away from popping a blood vessel. An arm of yours moves to shove Choso away from you and you scoff, “First off, fuck both of you. Start explaining yourselves, now.” You huff out sternly.

Choso flashes a sheepish grin, “I already explained everything to you, why are you confused-“

“You were being serious?!” You shout, “You seriously called Satoru over to fuck me?! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You said I was too jealous of a boyfriend so I invited him to prove to you that I’m not,” Choso tells you, the look on his face completely serious.

You couldn’t believe him right now. Not only were you feeling embarrassed having Gojo stand here and listen to you and Choso bicker like an old married couple but you were also fuming with your boyfriend.

“W-What?!” You huff out.

Choso gives you this blank stare he knows pisses you off, “I don’t understand why you’re confused.”

“You don’t understand why I’m-,” You cut yourself off with a sigh and move to pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers, “Choso Kamo, this is the kinda thing you talk about with your girlfriend beforehand.”

“Are we not talking about it now?” He argues, moving to fold his arms across his chest and tilt his head.

You glare at him for a moment before glancing back to Gojo. Then, you chuckle in an annoyed manner, “We shouldn’t be talking about this in front of… him.”

“Him?” Gojo pouts, “Hey, I have a name y’know-“

“Satoru shut the hell up. You will be dealt with, just give me a moment,” You cut off warningly. Turning back to look at Choso, “As for you, I don’t know what the hell’s gotten into you but we’re not doing this.”

Choso raises a brow, “Not doing what baby?”

“I’m not about to…” Your face twists up in disapproval, “…To cheat on you just so you can prove some stupid point-“

“Why not?” Your boyfriend asks nonchalantly.

“What do you mean why not? Choso what even possessed you to invite Satoru over?”

“I literally told you why already,” He says bluntly, “I wanna prove I’m not the jealous dickhead you keep making me out to be.”

Your brows raise, “And you wanna prove that by making me have sex with another man in front of you?”

“First off, I’m not gonna make you do anything,” Choso clarifies, “Secondly, yes, I do want you to have sex with another guy just to prove a point.”

“You’re crazy. I mean, Cho, you can’t be serious about this-,” You cut yourself off as you just barely glance down— spotting something that makes you eat your words. “Oh… Oh wow. You-, you’re…” You stammer as your lashes bat in disbelief.

Choso scoffs, “Yeahh… Still don’t believe me?”

“Why’re you…” Your brows furrow as you stare at the bulge in your boyfriend’s sweats, “D-Did just the thought of me and Satoru having sex in front of you get you like that?” You ask softly as you point.

Gojo suddenly pops his head over your shoulder and you flinch as he speaks, “Damnnnn, you seriously are a cuck,” He chuckles out.

Then his hands slither onto your waist and your entire body tenses up. Swallowing, you turn your head to Gojo and glare at him, “Don’t touch me.”

Blue eyes meet yours and he smirks, peeling his hands off your body but keeping his face close, “He wants me to.”

“Well, I don’t. I haven’t agreed to any of this yet-“

“Yet?” Both of the men point out in sync.

You swallow, “I-I mean, I… I wish you two would’ve given me some time to… t-to y’know, wrap my head around this,” You stammer out.

Having your stupidly attractive boyfriend and the annoyingly handsome Gojo Satoru in the same room, both taunting and teasing you was unbearably nerve-wracking.

Slowly, you look over to your boyfriend, “You really want me to-“

“Yes baby,” Choso cuts off.

“What’s even in this for you… aside from,” Your eyes narrow down at his boner, “A-Aside from getting off to this twisted fantasy of yours?”

He snickers, “Uh, I’ll be off of sex-ban after this.”

Your brows pinch together and you fold your arms, “Says who?”

“Baby, the point of the sex-ban was to teach me a lesson about bein’ jealous,” Choso explains, stepping closer to you. Your body was steadily heating up since Gojo was right behind you and Choso was nearing you, “Consider this my lesson learned.”

You scoff, “…Even if I did agree to this…” Slowly, you turn back to Gojo and his face is far closer than you anticipated it to be, his lips nearly on yours as your head turned, “A-Are you seriously okay with this, Cho?”

Gojo’s hands are placed onto your waist yet again but this time, you don’t push him off or tell him to move. You stare into those pretty blue eyes of his and watch as he smiles.

“He’s more okay with this than you think,” Gojo murmurs to you, tilting his head in a way that makes it seem like he was readying himself to kiss you.

You stare at Gojo for a second longer than you mean to before turning to look at your boyfriend once more and god damn his pupils are dilated and you swear his cock has doubled in size beneath his clothes.

Oh he was extremely serious about this.

Choso chuckles, “I can’t exactly fake my dick bein’ hard, can I? What more proof about this do you need to see I’m serious?”

“S-So… if I sleep with Gojo… you want the sex-ban to be over?” You ask for clarification as you glance back and forth between Choso’s left and right eyes.

“Mhm,” He nods at you, “And my point will be proved.”

“Right…” You look at Gojo again and his lips are a hair’s length away from yours at this point, “A-And you… you’re okay with this?”

“What kinda’ question is that?” The white-haired man laughs, “In what universe would I pass up the opportunity to fuck you again?”

You frown a little but, you’re no longer shying away from this, “Satoru… T-This is so wrong-“

“Is it any more wrong than the things I’ve had you do before?” He whispers lowly to you, low enough for Choso to miss what he uttered.

You swallow thickly at his words, “W-Well… yes, yes it is. I’m cheating on-“

“Is it really cheating if he wants you to do it?” Gojo argues.

You pout, “Yes-“

“No, no it’s not,” He interrupts while flashing a comforting smile at you.

“Satoru-“

“Can you two stop arguing and just make out already,” Choso groans, “I’m gonna blow my load before we even get to the good part…”

Gojo chuckles and lifts a careful hand to the side of your face, cupping your cheek in his palm as he pulls you close, “Well, sweetheart? Your boyfriend’s gettin’ needy.”

You shake your head slowly and your gaze falls to Gojo’s lips, “…This is so wrong.”

“Yeah,” Gojo murmurs back before pecking your lips, you sigh immediately and Gojo whispers against you, “But he likes it.”

There’s one last lingering look shared between you and Gojo before he gently presses his lips to yours again, feeling as you sigh against him and just barely ease into this. After all, it was different and weird to kiss someone who wasn’t your boyfriend after a wonderful ten months of dating him.

There are a lot of things you could’ve predicted in your future with Choso but this damn sure wasn’t a part of it. No, making out with Gojo Satoru as Choso just watches the two of you was not something you could’ve ever planned for.

Gojo’s taking things slow, melting into your mouth and steadily parting your lips to push his tongue inside as you hum against him. Choso was losing his mind. Yeah, from the second he saw the way Gojo looked at you, his cock sprung up.

Did he understand why? Not exactly, no. Hell, only about forty-five minutes ago did Choso learn of the word cuck and what it means to be one. He’s watching you and Gojo make out for a little bit before his feet move toward the two of you.

Choso nor Gojo miss the way you moan against Gojo’s lips as Choso presses his own into your neck. Oh. You were about to experience both of these men at the same time? Gojo and Choso. Gojo Satoru and Choso Kamo. To what being must you thank for such a heavenly experience? Your possessive boyfriend and your obsessive ex-lover (if you can even call him that).

Your boyfriend begins to suck on the side of your neck as you hum and squirm in between the two men. Gojo’s got his large hands firmly placed on your waist and you whine into his mouth as Choso moves to kiss under your jaw. With Gojo behind you and Choso now in front of you, you couldn’t possibly wrap your head around the fact that you were being sandwiched between these two men.

Handling either of them one at a time was already too much for you and yet here you were having to deal with both. You feel Gojo’s clothed cock press into your ass and he groans into your mouth before pulling away, both of you making low-lidded eye contact.

“Satoru,” You whisper.

He hums, “Shit-, this is hotter than I thought it’d be.”

Choso’s busy sucking at your neck before he pulls away with a loud pop, his breathing heavy against your skin as you grow hazy in lust. Then, he wipes his mouth off and takes a step back, “Baby…”

You turn your head to him with wide eyes, your lips prettily messy with saliva from Gojo’s tongue and fuck if Choso didn’t find you sexier than ever. Your brows raise innocently and he smirks at you.

“Can you do somethin’ f’me?” Choso hums out. You try moving toward him but Gojo tugs you back and Choso chuckles, “Don’t worry, I don’t want you to touch me yet,” Your boyfriend explains, “I want you to take care of our guest first, can you do that?”

Your eyes widen and you glance behind you and up at Gojo who flashes you a smile, “Yeah, can you take care of me, sweetheart?”

Gulping, you fein cluelessness, “T-Take care of you how…”

“Oh don’t act dumb,” Choso scoffs.

Gojo snickers, “Right, don’t act dumb…” He coos at you.

You pout and glance back over to your boyfriend, “I’m not actin’ dumb… I just want you guys to tell me what you want me to do…”

“Oh?” Choso raises a brow, “So you’re done actin’ like a brat now, huh?”

“I-I wasn’t acting like a brat earlier, you were just being an asshole,” You huff out before rolling your eyes and looking off to the side.

Gojo quirks a brow, “That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend, now is it?” He murmurs to you, causing a chill to slip down your spine.

“But…” Your lashes flutter, “He was being a fucking asshole-”

“You’ve got quite the mouth on ya’...” Gojo interrupts.

Choso suddenly nods, “Yeahh… She does, doesn’t she?” You swallow hard as your boyfriend voices his thoughts, “Why don’t you shut it up?” He suggests.

A hand is placed on your jaw and your face is tugged so that you’re looking at Gojo again, his fingers digging into your cheeks, “I should, shouldn’t I?” He teases, shifting to run his thumb over your lower lip, “She talks way too much anyway.”

“E-Excuse me-“

“She can’t talk when she’s got a mouth full of cock though,” Choso comments.

You swallow down whatever argument you were going to spit out to these two men.

Gojo smirks, “Good point…” He hums before slipping his thumb past your lips, “But, that’s probably what she wants anyway.”

“Think so?” Choso hums, smiling a little.

Gojo nods, “Know so.”

“Okay well, who are we to deny her of such a thing?” Your boyfriend shrugs casually.

“Exactly,” Gojo agrees before placing his attention back on you, “Is that what you want, love? Hm? S’that why you’ve been such a fuckin’ brat? Y’need someone to put you back in your place?”

Yet another pout pulls at your lips, “I wasn’t-“

“Aht, aht, none of that,” Gojo interjects, scoffing at you and finding your expression cute, “It’s yes or no, sweetheart.”

“Y-Yes,” You stammer in response.

He bites down on his lower lip, “Yeah?”

Before you can even nod, your boyfriend’s making your fluster state ten times worse, “Yes what, princess?”

“Yes please…” You whine.

“Be specific,” Choso demands, voice low, “C’mon, tell Satoru what you want.”

“I…” You gulp, “I want you to…”

“Aww don’t be shy, s’just me, sweets,” Gojo coos, his voice gentle.

You were losing your mind right now. Gojo being so careful with you while Choso forces you to voice your needs? Oh you’re not making it through the rest of this interaction, or at least, not in one piece and not mentally okay by the end of it.

“I want you to put me in my place ‘Toru,” You finally manage out.

Gojo hums deeply, “In front of your boyfriend? Seriously?” He teases as he moves the hands on your waist to spin you around. Then he tugs your body up against his, “You really are a lil’ slut, aren’t you?”

Your face twists up a little before you glance back to Choso who gives you a reassuring look— telling you through his eyes that this was okay.

After which, you look at Gojo again and nod, “Yeah.”

He chuckles before bending down a little and then lifting you into the air, your legs wrapped around him as he does so, “Well, if you insist. I guess I’ll have to start by punishing this mouth of yours for bein’ so mean to your boyfriend.”

You frown as you disagree with the claim of you being mean to Choso, “I-“

“Don’t act like that’s not what you’ve been wanting anyway,” Choso adds as he watches Gojo carry you past him. He trails behind the two of you, “I’ve seen the way you’ve been lookin’ at me lately, baby. You’ve been itchin’ to suck me off… Buuut since you put me on sex-ban, I guess that’ll have to do, right?”

You send the man a look and he smiles at you, completely obsessed with teasing you through this whole thing.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Choso hums as you, him, and Gojo enter the living room, “You said you’d take care of our guest first, remember?”

“Yeah, sweets,” Gojo chimes in— God the way they keep doing that is getting on your nerves-, “I can’t wait to put my cock down your throat.”

Okay, by this point, you were beyond pooling in your underwear and it doesn’t get any better as Gojo takes a seat on the couch with you sliding into his lap, his erection poking up against your cunt as you sit comfortably. Then there’s Choso who takes a seat not too far away from the two of you, his cock aching for some kind of attention.

One last time, you glance at your boyfriend, and then at Gojo, and then you sigh.

This was really about to happen-

There’s a soft tap to your ass by Gojo, “Don’t start zonin’ out now,” He hums.

Then Choso’s talking again, “Yeah baby, hurry up ‘nd get on your knees— I wanna see how well you suck another guy off.”

Yeah, this was about to be a long night…

part two

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

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punkshort · 4 months ago

Text

Evergreen | Chapter One: Denial

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Tommy encourages Joel to join bereavement group counseling, where he meets you. You connect over a similar loss and the common thread of loneliness, leading to something unexpected for you both.

Chapter Warnings: grief, angst, mentions of OC deaths, mild references to: suicide, self harm, drug use (none by reader or Joel), language, panic/anxiety attack (Joel), Joel POV

WC: 8.8K

A/N: I've been working on this goddamn series since May. Sorry it's taken me so long to get around to it but I am committing to a posting schedule now that it is almost complete and I appreciate you all for being so patient. Hope you enjoy tons of fluff and softness and angst.

Series Masterlist

Joel's hands gripped the steering wheel as he stared blankly at the faded brick building connected to the small, run down parking lot. He watched as the clock ticked down to six in the evening, and with each passing minute a new car parked nearby or someone walked through the double doors. He wasn't sure what he expected, but he was surprised to see people of all ages streaming inside.

Then he saw a young woman with two children, one in each hand, neither of which could have been over seven years old, walk inside with watery eyes and he dropped his gaze to his lap in shame.

Mia had been gone for nearly ten years. He had no business being there. His grief wasn't fresh. Over the years, he's learned to cope with it, to live alongside it. The people who were there that night needed the support.

Joel didn't need support. He was just lonely.

He reached for his key, still dangling in the ignition, when his phone rang. With a sigh, he patted down the front of his jeans until he located his phone, then lifted his hips off the worn seat with a grunt so he could fish it out.

"Yeah?"

"You better not be thinkin' 'bout leavin'."

Joel swiveled around in alarm, searching the parking lot for his brother's truck, but all he saw were the last few stragglers hurriedly walking up to the front doors, the anguish practically weighing them down as they moved.

"You watchin' me now?"

Tommy chuckled on the other end.

"Nah, I'm at home. I just know you."

Joel rolled his eyes as the clock ticked to 6:01 on the dash.

"This is stupid, Tommy."

"It ain't stupid. It's been almost ten years and you've never looked twice at another woman. You can tell me you've moved on or that you're fine, but I'm not buying your bullshit," Tommy said sternly on the other end. "I don't think you ever gave yourself a chance to process what happened and it's important you do that. For your mental health and all that."

"Maria tell you to say that?" Joel scoffed, but still unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.

"Maybe. Don't matter who said it, it's true."

"Fine. I'm walkin' in now, I'll call you later," Joel said, then hung up without waiting for a reply.

The building wasn't very big. From the lobby, Joel could hear a male's voice making what sounded like brief introductions as he strolled quickly down the hall. He rested his hand on the push bar and took a deep breath. Right as he was about to enter, he heard someone else's light footsteps jogging up behind him. He turned around as you approached, a little breathless and with a guilty smile.

"Oh, good, I'm not the only one who's late," you said, nodding towards the door.

"Uh, yeah," Joel said, clearing his throat softly, "we can share the heat," he joked, opening the door and stepping aside so you could walk through first. You shot him a grateful look and mouthed thank you before entering the room.

The group all turned their heads at the disruption, as expected, but the counselor waved them in with a warm smile.

"Welcome! Have a seat, we were just getting started."

Joel found the first empty chair he could, in the very last row closest to the door. You glanced around the room before sliding into the same row as him, just a few seats down.

"As I was saying, welcome to the grief and loss support group. I'm Dr. Harris, but please feel free to call me Ryan."

Ryan was young. Definitely under forty. Something about that irked Joel. He imagined this man going to school to learn how to be caring, how to listen and say all the right words at the right time so he could make a decent paycheck and call himself doctor while he went home to his wife and picket fence and his patients went home with a gaping hole in their hearts.

"There is no wrong way to grieve," Ryan was saying from the podium with a practiced look of solemnity. "All of you are here for different reasons. And while you may look around here and think nobody else could possibly understand what you are feeling, I am here to tell you that you are simply wrong." Ryan took a moment to let his words settle over the group before continuing. "We have all lost somebody in our lives. That is the common thread that weaves us all together. And I'm here to tell you to use it." Ryan clenched his fists for emphasis and Joel had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Lean on each other. Listen to one another. This is a safe space. Nobody will judge you here, no matter what you may think, everybody in this room is here for the same reason."

After what felt like an eternity, Ryan invited the people in the room to approach the podium to speak, no longer than ten minutes, he had said, reminding everyone that their time was limited and they always could speak again at the next meeting.

One by one, people trickled up to the front of the room. First it was an elderly woman who explained with tears in her eyes that her husband of forty years passed away a month ago.

"It sounds silly," she sniffled, "but it feels like I'm... untethered. Like I lost my connection to this world when he left and I'm scared I might just... float away."

Next was a man around Joel's age who visibly struggled to hold back his tears about his late sister.

"I just keep reminding myself I didn't cause it, I can't control it, can't undo it. I'm really mad at myself for not paying attention to the warning signs. She was struggling, y'know?" His glassy eyes addressed the group briefly before he cast his gaze back down. "The best thing I can do is try to rebuild. Don't let the anguish fester. Don't let it consume me. Because she wouldn't want that."

After that, a girl no older than twenty, arms and neck covered in tattoos walked to the front. "She was my best friend since we were eight. And I know it's my fault, I know it is," she choked out, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I gave her her first hit. I could see she was falling too deep into it and I didn't try to help her, I was too focused on my own shit and not seeing what was right in front of me. To this day, I can't look her mom in the eye-" the girl hung her head and took a moment to gather herself. Chairs squeaked as the group patiently waited for her to continue. "But I'm clean and sober almost six months now," she said with a watery smile. A small round of applause broke out amongst the group and she nodded her thanks. "I'm thinking about going to school for social work. Maybe I can honor her memory in some way."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you cross and uncross your legs nervously but made no move to walk to the front.

Same as him.

When the clock on the wall ticked closer to seven, Ryan addressed the group one final time.

"I'll stick around in case anybody wants to have a talk after group. Just a reminder that I'm only here once a week, but my esteemed colleague, Grace, runs another group on Tuesdays, so please feel free to stop by one or both. I also left some cards in the back next to the coffee. My information is on there if you would like a one on one appointment and on the back is the crisis hotline. Please take one, you never know when you may need it."

The room collectively seemed to stand, a murmur rippling through the group as people began to softly speak again, reaching out to neighbors, either introducing themselves or catching up from the last session. Joel scratched at his chin and looked around the room as people continued to filter around. Some paired off to grab coffee, some went to talk to Ryan, but Joel just stood there. All alone.

He took a deep breath and headed for the back, then lingered at the small stack of business cards Ryan had mentioned. He picked one up and flipped it over, studying it, when he heard a soft voice behind him.

"Excuse me," you said, and he swiveled around in surprise.

"Oh, sorry," he replied, stepping to the side so you could reach the coffee. He pretended to look at the card but watched as you filled up a cup. He waited for you to add cream or sugar but you didn't. You lifted the cup to your lips and took a tentative sip before recoiling at the heat and doing it again.

"That, uh, any good?"

Your eyes locked onto his and you shrugged. "'Bout what you'd expect."

He smiled and looked around the room, fidgeting with the edge of the card before sliding it into his pocket. "This your first session, too?"

You shook your head and stepped aside, a little closer to him, so others could get to the coffee. "I've been coming here almost two months."

That surprised Joel. Based on the way the rest of the group seemed familiar with each other, he had suspected the two of you were both new.

"Two months? Wow," Joel said, "how's it workin' out for you, if you don't mind my askin'?"

You sighed and gave him a little smile.

"Some days are better than others. But I figure it doesn't hurt, so..." you trailed off and crossed your arms, your fingertips tapping against the paper cup. "My mom begged me to come, so I did. I think it makes her believe she's helping in some way by pushing it and I grew tired of feeling like an emotional burden."

Joel frowned. "I'm sure that ain't true. No parent thinks their kid is an emotional burden."

You chuckled and drained the rest of your cup. "You'd be surprised." You tossed the cup into the trash before giving him a brighter smile. Although expressing your emotions was the entire reason you were there, you still felt uncomfortable doing it. "So this was your first time? What did you think?"

"Jury's still out," Joel replied honestly. "Promised my brother I would give it a try, same as you. My daughter just went off to college last month and I think he and his wife are worried 'bout me bein' all alone for the first time in, well... forever, I suppose." His lips pursed in thought for a moment. "Feels kinda like I don't belong here. My wife passed almost ten years ago. I've learned to live with it by now. It ain't as raw as all that-" he gestured up to the podium, referencing all the individuals who poured their hearts out for the past hour. Then he realized he was rambling and chuckled. "Sorry. Can't seem to shut up." He looked at you sheepishly and you smiled back.

"That's good. That's what you're supposed to do here," you assured him, then took a deep breath. "I lost my fiancé a year ago, so I can relate... kind of."

"I'm sorry," he said, furrowing his brow and examining your face. "You're so young, you shouldn't know what that feels like at your age."

"Not that young. I'm thirty-one," you joked. He laughed and rubbed his chin.

"Well I got twenty years on you, seems pretty young to me."

"You're fifty-one?" you asked, and he nodded. "You look good, I wouldn't have guessed a day over..." you trailed off as you studied his face and he grinned.

"Go ahead, be honest."

"Forty-three," you decided, and Joel laughed. When was the last time he felt this lighthearted?

"Well that's the nicest thing I've heard all week," he replied. The room began to thin out and you shifted your weight.

"Well, I guess I should get going," you told him, almost sounding regretful. Then you pinched your eyebrows together. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Joel," he said, sticking an arm out to shake your hand. You gave him a warm smile before telling him your name, your hand getting dwarfed by his thick, rough fingers.

"Will I see you next week, Joel?"

"Yeah," he replied, walking out with you and holding open the door. "I'll give it another chance."

"Good. I mean, you know, I'm glad you're giving it another chance," you found yourself inexplicably stumbling over your words and before your face began to heat up you veered off towards your car with a quick wave.

Joel's eyes trailed after you for a minute before he opened the door to his truck and climbed inside. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against his lower lip, lost in thought while he stared straight ahead at the emptying parking lot. Then you drove by in a higher end white SUV and he watched as you took a right turn out of the lot and disappeared down the road. He sighed and started his truck, realizing he was one of the last cars in the lot, and decided to stop at a fast food drive thru on the way home.

"Uncle Tommy told me you went to a grief support group the other day, how did it go?" Sarah asked him over FaceTime. He pushed the lever on his recliner and leaned back into the chair with a grunt.

"S'alright," he mumbled.

"Did you share anything?"

"No."

"Well, why not?"

"'Cause, baby girl, these people just lost someone close to 'em. I can't get up there and talk 'bout your mama, it's been so long-"

"That doesn't matter," she said, interrupting him. He could hear other kids in the background laughing but she remained focused on her screen. "I don't think you've ever really processed Mom's death and it's important to me that you try. I worry about you, old man," she teased, and Joel grinned.

"No need to worry 'bout me, I'm stayin' busy."

"Yeah, doing what? And don't tell me you're eating frozen meals and watching baseball because it'll break my heart."

Joel's eyes drifted to the empty plastic tray on the coffee table.

"No," he said gruffly. "Ain't baseball season. I'm watchin' basketball."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Dad," she whined, "what about your friends? The guys from work?"

He didn't have the heart to tell her they were busy with their families, with their wives, so he lied.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get together with Jimmy later this week. Gonna shoot some pool."

"That sounds great!" Sarah exclaimed, her face instantly brightening. Her eyes snapped up to someone behind her phone and she grinned, holding up one finger, then looked back at him. "Listen, Dad, I gotta run. I promised a few friends I would go to the football game with them."

"Oh, so you'll watch football with your friends and not me?" he teased, and she giggled. "Alright then, text me when you get back home safe."

"I will. I love you."

No matter how many times he heard it, those words always warmed his heart.

"Love you too, baby girl."

The call ended and he set his phone down with a sigh. Sarah was right. He couldn't waste away in his house all alone, waiting for her to come home to visit or for Tommy and Maria to come by for dinner. He needed to get a hobby. He glanced outside then looked at the time before turning off the television and pushing himself out of his recliner with a groan. He shuffled down the hall to his bedroom to change out of his old sweatpants and ratty tshirt, then snatched his keys off the kitchen counter and headed out to the driveway.

He drove aimlessly through town, his window down with his arm hanging out, soaking up the sun's rays. Kids were playing on the sidewalks and people were walking their dogs or pushing strollers. Everyone just seemed so... happy. Content.

Maybe he should get a dog.

Maybe he should start with a fish, first.

He jumped on the highway and cruised with one hand on the steering wheel. Hank Williams crooned from the radio and Joel took a deep, relaxing breath. He was coming up on the exit for the mall. Sarah loved dragging him to the mall. A smile played on his lips and he figured why not.

He veered off the highway and slowed when he approached the red light, the mall parking lot straight ahead. It didn't look terribly busy. With the weather as nice as it was, he imagined most people would be spending their time outside.

Joel found a good spot right out front. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and walked inside through the Macy's. A blast of freezing cold air conditioning hit him like a ton of bricks, cooling the sweat that was collecting on the back of his neck. He managed to make his way through the maze of the department store and entered the mall itself. There were a few groups of girls around Sarah's age giggling and carrying shopping bags and the random couple here or there walking into William Sonoma or Brookstone.

When he passed by the food court, he saw a few solitary older men sipping coffee and reading the paper or people watching. Joel huffed under his breath, wondering who on earth would come to the mall just to read a paper until he realized he was no better.

Was he going to become just like them one day? Would he come to the mall to nurse a coffee just so he wouldn't feel so alone? The thought had his throat closing up.

He paused and leaned against a railing overlooking the bottom floor of the mall, pretending to be looking for someone when in reality he was struggling to breathe. His heart was fluttering too fast in his chest and his vision was narrowing.

"Shit," he whispered to himself, rubbing his eyes and trying to focus on taking deep breaths. It was like reality crashed down around him all at once: Sarah was moved out of the house. Tommy was happily married. And Joel was going to die all alone.

He gasped and blinked, trying to clear his head and mentally talk himself down, but it was no use. He leaned forward a bit to rest his forehead on the cool, stainless steel railing but his knees began to buckle. Just when he thought he would need to stop someone and beg them to call an ambulance, he heard someone say his name, temporarily snapping him out of his daze.

"Are you okay?" you asked, the smile slipping from your face when you noticed how flush he looked. He could only manage to shake his head. Without hesitating, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders and helped him stand, then glanced around. Spotting an empty bench, you led him over and helped him sit. You rubbed your palm over his upper back soothingly and sat next to him, reminding him to breathe deeply until his vision cleared and he felt his strength return.

"Christ," he mumbled. He sat up and leaned back so the back of his head rested on the bench and stretched his long legs out. "Thank you," he added, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

"No problem," you said, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Or, no. I don't know," he sighed, dropping his hand from his face. "I think it just hit me all at once."

You slid over on the bench to give him more room. "What hit you all at once?"

"That my little girl is growin' up and -" he stopped himself, the words and I'm all alone getting trapped in his throat. "And I just miss her, is all."

You slowly nodded and glanced around the mall. "What does she like?"

He smiled. "Clothes. Music. Makeup. Books."

"What kind of books?"

"The fantasy kind. Y'know, like Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter."

A huge grin spread across your face. "Follow me, I have an idea," you said, standing up and looking down at him before you realized you might have overstepped. "I mean, unless you're-"

"No, let's go," he replied, standing up and stretching out an arm for you to lead the way. He fell in step next to you as you led him down towards the other end of the mall and after a few minutes, he realized where you were leading him.

"The bookstore?"

"Yep," you said cheerily, shooting him a playful grin. "Trust me."

And he did.

"There's some really incredible series out there right now. Why don't we pick one out, you can read it and share it with her so you guys have something to do together from a distance? Do you know if she's read The Word of the Heir? That's by an incredibly talented author who actually got the idea when she was only seven years old," you told him excitedly, leading him deep into the bookstore, dodging tables and displays until you made it to the fantasy section. Joel slowed down and looked around, his panic attack slipping further and further from his mind.

"Uh, I ain't sure," he replied as you held up the book. You tucked it under your arm and began to look again.

"How about Empire of Kings? I haven't read that one but the author is relatively new and I've heard he's an extremely talented storyteller."

Joel shrugged, again unsure what Sarah may or may not have read. All of the titles sounded so foreign to him until his eyes landed on the spine of a thick, hardcover book.

"Oh, this one sounds familiar," he said, plucking it from the shelf. "The Crimson Stone. I think she wanted to read this but I don't think she ever finished it. It's a series-"

"Yeah, I know that one," you told him quietly. He glanced down at the book again and read the author's name.

"Daniel Davis, ain't this the guy who died in that bad wreck downtown?" Joel mumbled as he flipped the book over in his hands to read the back. You nodded. "Maybe I'll get this one."

"Don't waste your money, I can give it to you for free," you said, gently taking it from his hands. You ran your palm distractedly over the cover before flipping it open and looking at the tiny black and white photo of the author on the inside jacket. "This was my fiancé," you added, your voice thick. Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Shit," he mumbled. "I-I'm sorry, his name just sounded familiar, I remember it from the paper..." he trailed off, floundering for what to say to comfort you. Why couldn't he fucking think?

"It's okay," you told him, waving him off, but the guilt still laid heavy in his chest. "There's no way you would have known." You slowly closed the book, giving the picture one more glance, and handed it back to him. "But really, if you want to read them I have tons of copies just sitting around. He had a few other books outside of this series, as well, if you guys wanted them."

Joel's eyebrows knit together. "I don't wanna take your books. They gotta have sentimental value or somethin'."

"No, seriously, I have boxes of them just sitting there. He was in the middle of signing copies for readings he was supposed to do before-" you stopped yourself and cleared your throat. "Anyway. I can bring them to group next week or you can come by the house and look through them yourself if you like."

Joel nodded and nervously chewed the inside of his cheek. "Do you wanna talk 'bout it?"

You looked up at him then, all wide eyed and filled with so much sadness that it made his chest ache. No one so young and pretty should have to go through so much pain. Your eyes drifted over his face for a moment, quietly studying him before responding. "Yeah. I kind of do."

Joel looked over his shoulder and spotted the café across from the bookstore. "You wanna get a coffee and find a quiet bench or somethin'?"

"That sounds nice," you replied, so he put the books back on the shelf and walked out into the mall. He spotted a bench near an empty storefront and he told you to go have a seat with the promise of bringing you back something to drink. There wasn't a line at the counter. He couldn't imagine many people wanted coffee that late in the day, so it only took a few minutes before the barista slid the two cups of black coffee across the counter and he met you back at the bench.

"Black, right?"

You smiled and gingerly took the cup. "Yeah, how did you know?"

"From group the other day," he replied, then sat down with a grunt. You sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, each of you letting your coffees cool before you spoke.

"I usually don't talk about it. Every week I tell myself I'm gonna go up to that podium and pour my heart out and every week I chicken out."

Joel didn't say a word. He learned early on with Sarah when she was upset, she just wanted someone to listen to her. So that's exactly what he did. He sipped his coffee and just listened. And before you even realized it, you were telling him everything.

You began by telling him Daniel was from Austin but you met in Portland, where you grew up. For a while, the two of you tried doing a long-distance relationship, but once you were finished with school you took him up on the offer to move in with him in Texas. Shortly thereafter, he proposed and you had spent the last year of his life planning your dream wedding. The night of the accident, you had been touring a venue an hour outside the city. It was dark when you finished up and drove back home.

Daniel didn't do anything wrong. You insisted Joel knew that first.

A truck driver had fallen asleep at the wheel and ran a light, completely crushing the driver's side and killing Daniel instantly. Somehow, you had only come out of the accident with a small concussion and a badly bruised chest from the seatbelt.

"Jesus," Joel muttered when you exhaled a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, darlin'. That's some fucked up shit." His eyes widened and he straightened up in his seat. "Shit, sorry for cursin'... twice." He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably and a slow smile spread across your face. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you burst out laughing.

"Thank you," you said in between giggles. He grinned, confused but happy you were laughing and not crying. "I needed that. And you're right, it was some fucked up shit."

Joel chuckled and took a sip from his coffee. He heard his phone ring so he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen before silencing the call and putting his phone away.

"You can take it," you said, wiping a stray tear from your eye and jutting your chin towards his phone.

"Just my brother. I'll call him back later."

"Ah, the infamous brother that made you go to group?"

"The very same."

"Younger or older?"

"Younger, but the way he bosses me 'round you'd never know it," Joel said with a grin.

"He's probably just looking out for you."

"He knows I'm feelin' especially lonely without Sarah. Sarah's my daughter, by the way," he said, pulling his phone out and showing you his lock screen: it was a selfie of him and Sarah on the beach, Joel looked red as a lobster and Sarah's hair looked tangled from the wind but there was no denying the happiness in both their eyes.

"She's beautiful," you said warmly. He smiled and put his phone away.

"Got that from her mama."

"I don't know, I see a little bit of you in her smile," you teased, bumping up against his shoulder playfully. He rolled his eyes but didn't argue.

"What I'm tryin' to say is, I can relate a bit to what you're goin' through. Y'know, losin' a partner and feelin' like you got no one left," he said. You took a deep breath.

"Yeah, sounds like you do."

Joel nervously picked at his jeans, trying to figure out the right way to say what he wanted to say without sounding like an old creep, but before he could open his mouth, you spoke first.

"Maybe we can hang out together and keep each other company?" you offered. He turned his head and grinned.

"I was 'bout to suggest the same thing."

"Really?" you asked, looking as relieved as he felt. He nodded.

"Sounds like we both could use a friend."

Something in your expression shifted. It was too quick. He couldn't pinpoint it but whatever it was disappeared, leaving behind a genuine smile.

"I would really like that, Joel."

"What the hell? You couldn't call me back yesterday?" Tommy scolded when he marched into the small, messy office the following morning. Joel glanced up from behind his desk; papers, a calculator and a pencil scattered about in front of him. He took his reading glasses off with a sigh, abandoning his work. He hated doing the administrative part of his job. He always preferred to be on site or meeting with clients.

"I was busy."

"Busy?" Tommy repeated before collapsing in the worn out chair across from him.

"Yeah, busy. I was... with a friend," Joel mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant but Tommy's ears perked up.

"A friend? Who?"

Joel shrugged. "Someone I met at that group you made me go to."

Tommy's eyes lit up. "Hey, that's great. See? I knew it'd be good for you. What's his name?"

Joel pursed his lips before softly saying your name and Tommy raised an eyebrow.

"A woman? That's even better, Joel."

"It ain't like that-"

"'Course not," Tommy said, "I'm just sayin' it's a step in the right direction."

"She's too young," Joel said defensively, giving Tommy pause.

"Okay..."

"We're just friends. She ain't from 'round here, ain't got anyone in Texas."

Tommy frowned as he watched Joel shift uncomfortably in his chair, wondering what made his brother get so sensitive, so he chose to tread lightly.

"So you're keepin' each other company. That's nice."

"Yeah," Joel said, standing up with a grunt and rubbing his lower back before he snatched his coat from the wall. "Ready to go?"

"Sure," Tommy said, standing to follow Joel out of the office. While he locked the door behind him, Tommy couldn't help but ask, "How young is too young?"

"Thirty-one," Joel replied, fishing the keys out of his pocket.

Tommy shrugged, falling in step next to his brother as they walked towards the parking lot. "Sounds like an adult to me," he muttered, but Joel chose to ignore it. "When are you seein' her again?"

"End of the week," Joel replied before climbing into the truck.

"Friday?"

"Yeah, after work. We were gonna order some dinner and look through some books she's tryin' to get rid of."

The corner of Tommy's mouth twitched. "So, like a date?"

"It ain't a date," Joel said firmly, his jaw set as he pulled out of the parking lot and began to drive in the direction of the first worksite. "She's mourin' the loss of her husband, it's not a date."

"Husband?" Tommy repeated, then Joel shook his head, growing flustered.

"Fiancé. Not husband."

"When did he pass?"

Joel thought back to what you told him the night you first met. "A year ago."

Tommy hummed and looked out the window, tapping his fingers against the car door in rhythm with the beat from the radio. Joel side eyed him while they sat in silence for a few minutes before he rolled his eyes and sighed. "What?" Joel asked with an edge to his voice.

"A year's a long time, is all."

"She's in grief therapy, Tommy. She's in pain and tryin' to come to terms with it. Quit makin' it sound like somethin' it ain't."

"Just 'cause she's in grief therapy don't mean she ain't ready to move on-"

"Goddamnit, this is the last time I tell you anythin'," Joel grumbled as he made a left hand turn. Tommy hid a smile behind his hand and looked out the window.

"Alright, no need to get all defensive on me now."

Joel opened his mouth to argue but quickly snapped it shut. The more he pushed back just gave Tommy more ammunition. Besides, he knew the truth. You were looking for a friend, someone who could relate to what you were going through. There was absolutely no way you were interested in a man twenty years older than you. The thought was so absurd it almost made him laugh. You were young and beautiful and charming and you had your whole life ahead of you.

No, surely Tommy was wrong.

When Joel pulled up to your house, his eight year old truck the noisiest thing on the whole block, he let out a low whistle and threw it into park, deciding at the last second to keep his car on the street for fear of leaving an oil stain or something on your pristine concrete driveway. He sat in his truck for a moment, taking in the monumental Victorian house before him. He recognized it from his youth, but back then the siding was chipped and the windows were foggy, in desperate need of replacing. He always admired houses like yours and part of his heart broke whenever he saw one fall into such a state of disrepair that it was beyond saving, but not yours. No, at some point in the past ten years, the house was upgraded but managed to maintain the original charm.

There was fresh siding and new windows installed, the insides framed in what looked like delicate lace curtains, complimenting the style of the house. The roof looked like it had been replaced and the front door looked new, but the original architecture remained. He could easily tell whoever bought the house took great care with it, and the contractor in him breathed a sigh of relief that it didn't fall into the wrong hands, or god forbid, a flipper.

When he walked up your driveway towards the small stone path that led to your front door, he slowed to look at the garden that flourished in front of the wraparound porch. It was a beautiful mix of wildflowers and hedges, and while wildflowers had a tendency to look messy and unkept, you somehow managed to make it look neat and well put together. Fat, fuzzy bumblebees bounced drunkenly from flower to flower and as he climbed the wooden steps, a hummingbird buzzed past his ear, spooked by his presence.

He pressed the button to your doorbell, noting you chose not to install one of those camera doorbells and for some reason, that bothered him. Normally he wasn't a huge fan of technology, but you were all alone in this big house. You needed to be safe, to be careful. Your house was in a nice neighborhood, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

The door swung open and you greeted him barefoot with a warm smile before stepping aside to let him in. You were wearing a loose tshirt that hung off one shoulder and he chastised himself when his eyes traveled down your tight fitting jeans to your ass as he followed you into your home.

He shrugged his reaction off to just typical male instinct and forced his focus onto the lovely foyer surrounding him as he slid off his boots. Polished cherry wainscoting lined the walls and his eyes widened when he noticed the small tiles in the shape of little octagons below his feet.

"Is this original?" he asked you in disbelief as he pointed to the ground. Your gaze followed his finger and you nodded.

"We tried to keep everything original, if we could," you explained.

"Wow," he breathed as he stepped forward into the hallway, his eyes unable to keep up with how fast his brain was operating. His gaze slid over the original hardwood floors of the hallway, fresh wallpaper, and wide, polished staircase with a plush carpet installed in the center of the steps. Much to his delight, you chose to furnish the house to match the style, as well. Antique fixtures hung from the ceiling and a real wood table was pushed against the wall. A small lamp sat on top with a stained glass Tiffany shade, and next to it was a pile of mail and a framed photograph he tried not to examine too closely out of respect.

"This way," you said over your shoulder, and he followed you blindly deeper into the house. You pushed open a swinging door that led into your kitchen, and for the first time since arriving, his nose was the first of his senses to respond instead of his eyes.

It smelled absolutely heavenly. He had no idea what you were cooking but his mouth instantly watered at the smell of garlic and salt and some kind of meat.

He swallowed and hoped his stomach wouldn't growl and embarrass him.

"Thought we were gonna order somethin'?" he asked as he watched you hurry over to the stove to stir something.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind, but I felt like cooking," you replied without looking. He glanced around the room, noticing you chose to update the counters and cabinets to look more modern, but kept the original flooring.

"Mind? Are you kiddin' me? Haven't had anythin' decent to eat since Sarah left for college."

Memories of fast food drive thrus and frozen dinners flashed before his eyes as he watched you turn off the burners on the stove. You opened a cupboard and stretched on your tiptoes to reach a bowl, the hem of your shirt riding up ever so slightly and revealing a small sliver of skin on your back and suddenly, his mouth was watering for an entirely different reason.

Stop it.

"Need some help?" he offered, and you fell back onto the flats of your feet, shooting him a nod and smile. He didn't mean to, but he reached up from behind you for the serving bowl, his front brushing gently against your back, and your shoulders tensed. Shit.

"Sorry, here ya go," he said, handing you the bowl and immediately giving you some space, not catching the glimmer of disappointment in your eyes.

"Thank you," you murmured shyly. He watched you spoon vegetables into the bowl for a moment, grabbing random jars of seasoning and sprinkling them on top before stirring it up, and he finally remembered his manners.

"Can I help?"

"No, no, I got it," you insisted, waving him toward a door on the other side of the kitchen. "Go sit down, I'll be right out."

He wandered over to the propped open door and entered your dining room. Pausing for a moment, he admired the chandelier above the table that looked old but the brass had been polished and the crystals cleaned. The drop ceiling was even remarkable: squares of textured patterns that repeated across the whole room, adding a whole other layer of elegance to the already impressive first floor. His eyes drifted to the dark wood table, where two spots were already set across from each other. He pulled out a chair and sat down, shifting his weight a bit and noting the chairs must have been recently reupholstered based on how firm the cushion was underneath him. You breezed in after him, hardly giving him enough time to take in the elaborate fireplace and mantle at the end of the room, and began to set down plates of food. His eyes bugged out of his head when he saw fresh, fried chicken and whipped mashed potatoes.

"You didn't have to go through all the trouble," he assured you, but you smirked at the way he stared at the chicken, the aroma from the breading overpowering his senses.

"It wasn't any trouble, I like to cook," you replied, disappearing into the kitchen to grab the vegetables and a basket of fresh rolls before finally joining him at the table.

Joel spread the cloth napkin over his lap, using every ounce of self control to stop himself from devouring everything in sight. He glanced up at you and you grinned.

"Go ahead, help yourself."

You watched with a small smile on your face as he loaded up his plate, then played with your own food until he took his first bite of chicken. He froze, his mouth full, and stared at you in awe before he dropped the chicken leg on his plate and leaned back, a deep, appreciative moan rumbling from his chest, making your thighs squeeze together under the table.

"Goddamn," he said once he swallowed. "That's the best fried chicken I've ever had in my entire life, darlin'."

You giggled and finally took a dainty bite of your own before nodding in agreement. "It's not bad."

Joel scoffed and took another bite. "Don't sell yourself short, now. I know what I'm talkin' 'bout. What'd you put in this?"

He listened, completely enraptured, as you explained how you soaked the chicken in buttermilk the day before and all of the seasonings you used in the breading.

"Oh! I almost forgot the lemonade," you said, standing back up and rushing into the kitchen, returning with two cold glasses and setting them down on the placemats. He nodded his thanks, mouth still full, and you giggled again.

You were already planning on packing up all the leftovers so he could take it home, but you still encouraged him to have as much as he wanted while it was warm and fresh.

"Did you make the rolls, too?" he asked after he took a bite.

You laughed and shook your head. "No, I'm not that good. I bought them this morning from a local bakery I like around the corner."

You had finished your meal long before he did, watching with your chin in your palm as he went back for seconds, reveling in the noises and compliments he made with practically each bite.

"Here, have some more," you told him, nudging the plate of chicken in his direction, but he leaned back in the chair and shook his head. "I can't, but everythin' was delicious. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm thrilled to cook for someone again," you replied with a sad smile before standing up and picking up your plate. He immediately stood and began to collect the rest, but you waved him back down.

"Sit, sit, I still have dessert," you told him, and based on the way he looked at you in that moment you would have put money down that he could be knocked over with a feather.

"Oh, darlin', you did too much," he replied, immediately flooding with guilt that he didn't even bring wine or flowers.

"Stop! I told you, I like doing it and I never get a chance to anymore, so please, sit down and I'll be right back."

Begrudgingly, he did as he was told and, while listening to you in the kitchen, peered out the back window at the meticulously kept grounds. Your house, like you, was absolutely beautiful. It felt like stumbling across an oasis in the middle of the desert.

You reappeared in the dining room with a bowl of diced, sugared strawberries and a plate of warm biscuits. He watched in stunned silence as you fixed him a plate, spooning the strawberries on top of a fresh shortcake, but told him to wait a moment before hurrying back into the kitchen and returning with a small bowl of homemade whipped cream.

Joel thought he died and went to heaven.

He could tell you didn't want to hear him complain that it was too much, so instead he lavished your baking with praise and thanks, both of which seemed to make your eyes shine bright and your lips remain curled into a smile the whole time.

"You're taking the leftovers home, too," you warned him once you finally allowed him to help bring things back into the kitchen. You were packing everything up nice and neat in matching Tupperware containers and stacking everything into a paper bag. As much as he wanted to decline, he really wanted your leftovers more, so he continued to thank you as he began to wash the dishes in your farmhouse sink. You had tried to fight him on it, but he finally wore you down and won. Stubborn little thing, he thought.

After dinner was cleaned up, you led him back down the hall and up the wide staircase, explaining that the books were all housed in a den at the top of the stairs, but when you opened the door to the room, den seemed like too small a word for it.

It was gorgeous, plain and simple. The cherry wainscoting continued in this room with a dark green wallpaper to accent the wood. All along the wall were antique sconces lighting up floor to ceiling bookcases stuffed full of literature. On the back wall was a large, heavy looking desk with a wingback velvet chair. The desk itself had books and papers scattered about, as if someone were in the middle of something and was rudely interrupted, but based on the layer of dust, he had to imagine nobody had sat there in some time.

And then it hit him: this was your fiancé's office.

A laptop sat open and turned off on the corner of the desk, along with a dusty printer behind the chair on the carpeted floor. He noticed what had to have been manuscripts of some kind based on the lack of coverings on the bound papers piling up next to the printer.

He was an author. This is where he worked.

That was when Joel realized you had been suspiciously quiet. He turned towards you, his eyes scanning your face, studying it. Your arms were wrapped around your middle as you stared blankly at the desk.

"We don't gotta do this today," he said softly, snapping you out of your reverie.

"No, it's okay," you replied, your voice so small it nearly broke his heart. You turned and walked toward the corner of the room, opposite the desk, where a small couch and coffee table sat. A few cardboard boxes were stacked nearby, two of which remained unopened, one recklessly torn into. You started with that one.

"Here," you said, pulling out a few books and handing them out. He stepped forward and took them, looking down at the covers and the beautiful artwork that adorned them. "These are the first trilogy, you should probably read them first before the next. They're different stories but they inevitably weave together so it'll make more sense if you-" you paused, your voice getting caught in your throat, and that's when he realized you had been fighting back tears.

"Hey, it's okay," he told you gently, putting the books down on the coffee table and carefully touching your shoulder, urging you to sit on the couch. After a moment's hesitation, you did, and he sat beside you. "This was too fast. I'll leave these here and maybe one day, when you're feelin' up to it, we can try again."

You looked up at him, eyes watering, and shook your head.

"No, take these now. I have more, I have tons, actually," you said, nodding towards the unopened boxes. "I just haven't come in here since he died and I didn't think it would be this hard." You wiped furiously at your cheeks, trying to hide your anguish.

Joel's heart thundered in his chest. He rubbed your back, trying to offer you a glimmer of comfort while he glanced around the room. "Maybe it was too soon," he offered again.

"No, it's been a year, Joel. I needed to do this." You took a deep breath and gave him a shaky smile. "Thank you. I know this is probably more than you expected-"

"Nah, hey, none of that, now," he cooed, mindlessly petting your hair. "If you needed someone to be here for this, I'm glad you picked me, okay?"

You sniffled and nodded, quietly thanking him again before taking another deep breath and exhaling with a nervous laugh as you looked around the room with him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"'Course," he replied.

"How long did it take for you to move on after your wife passed?"

He chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought about it, his fingers still playing with the ends of your soft hair as he slowly rubbed your back. "Well, hard to say. She was sick for a long time so I think I had time to come to terms with it before she died, y'know?" You nodded and listened to him, hanging on his every word and inadvertently leaning into his gentle touch. "Then I had Sarah to worry 'bout and, I don't know, time just... passed me by." He chuckled dryly for a moment before continuing. "My brother thinks I never got over it, Sarah thinks I never processed it, but they only think that 'cause I never dated anyone else."

Your eyes widened in surprise at his confession.

"Never?"

He shook his head and gave you a lopsided grin. "Been busy, I guess."

"But aren't you... lonely?"

He sucked in a sharp breath and cast his gaze to the floor. How did you manage to see right through him so quickly? Was it the common ground or something else?

"Wasn't too bad til Sarah left," he admitted, "but now... yeah. Yeah, it's lonely."

You scanned his face, watching the flicker of sadness in his eyes he tried to hide from you, and you inched a bit closer.

"I'm glad we found each other, Joel," you whispered. His eyes found yours again and he smiled.

"Me, too, sweetheart."

Then, without giving it another thought, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his lips. It was so tender and soft it felt like he was on the bus in fifth grade and Christine Murphy was giving him his fist kiss all over again while kids in nearby seats teased them with sing-song voices.

You pulled back and looked into his eyes, searching for any hesitation but all you must have seen was confusion because you leaned forward again, kissing him with a little more emotion, your small hand coming up to cup his greying, prickly jaw. You tasted like strawberries and lemonade and you smelled like vanilla and it was making every neuron in his brain fire all at the same time, to the point where his body had no idea what to do but remain frozen.

It was when your tongue first slipped past your lips and flicked nervously over the seam of his mouth that he finally came crashing down to earth. He sat back, breaking the kiss and holding you by the shoulders, staring deeply into your eyes. You were both panting slightly, probably from the excitement and adrenaline, as he tried to figure out what to say, what to do. You were in a fragile state, he decided. You made a mistake, the moment got away from you both and it didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything. You were too young and sweet and beautiful. You didn't really want anything to do with an old man like him. He just happened to be there when you were vulnerable and that was all.

The words never came. He couldn't form a coherent sentence. As the seconds dragged on, your face began to fall and embarrassment flooded your chest, the atmosphere in the room suddenly so thick that it was difficult to breathe. You cleared your throat and leaned back, his hands falling from your shoulders, and then you were the first to speak.

"Oh, no."

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#joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #comfort Joel #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #the last of us au #joel miller au #joel miller angst #Joel miller grief #the last of us angst #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #evergreen fic #Joel pov

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starboye · 6 months ago

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starring: vinnie hacker x ftm!male reader

request: Vinnie hacker fucks his ftm (yes it’s a boy with a pussy) boyfriend after he finishes his day working out and rough fucks him

warnings: smut, cursing, rough sex, ftm!reader, reader has a pussy, mentions of breeding

you layed in bed watching the time tick by as you waited for vinnie to come home from his rigorous work out sessions (the same sessions that had your pussy soaking wet every time when he came home) and soon you heard the familiar sound of keys jingling in the door and ran to the front, watching as vinnie came through the door you jumped into his arms "vinnie" you happily yelled hugging him tightly.

"hey baby" he says setting his bag down and catching you in his arms "how was your day" you ask giving him a small kiss on the cheek "good just got a lot stronger" he flexes his bicep "oh yeah how much stronger" you say biting your bottom lip slightly, you felt vinnie's hands wrap around your ass and knead them slightly "why tell you when I could just show you" he says lifting you up into his arms and carrying you to your room.

"well I think I'd like that much more" you smirk as you kiss the under of his jaw, he twitches slightly from the feeling of your soft lips against his skin before he steps into the room and lays you on the bed, he strips off his sweat ridden shirt to reveal his glistening abs contorting as he leans down over you. you move to take off your clothes but vinnie stops you "don't you worry I'll do all the work" he lowly says first taking off your shirt then slowly peeling off your pants and underwear and after doing the same for himself.

he moves his hand down to you pussy and caresses it "already wet for me huh it hasn't even been five minutes since I walked through the door" vinnie teases slipping his fingers into your warmth, pumping his hand slowly in and out while occasionally curling his fingers in you to press against your good spots, your hands quickly find their way to gripping vinnies buff arms for support as you arch your back to his touch.

"fuck vin" you huff, your chest heaving up and down as you feel your orgasm already approaching but vinnie quickly pulls his thick fingers out "vinnn" you whine lifting your head to feet his darkly lidded eyes "I can't have my beautiful boy cumming from just my fingers now can I" he says sucking your arousal off his fingers "mm mm" you felt almost inclined to shake your head to his words, he leans up and throws your legs over his thighs to open you up.

he slaps his dick on your hole, hearing the wet sounds making him even harder than before, he looks up at you for permission and you nod to his mental question so he slowly moves into you, your wetness acting as a sort of lube to go smoother, you let out light whimpers as vinnie makes it in you "fuck you feel so good" vinnie throws his head back as he makes it fully in your pussy, he stays there for a while so you can get used to his size before he fucking into your roughly.

the head board of the bed banging against the wall with every thrust as vinnie plows your pussy "vi-vinnie" you cry out feeling your legs go weak already "just a little more baby I can't get enough of this good fucking pussy" he grunts holding your legs against your chest to get deeper inside you tightness "I want your cum vinnie" you incoherently babble "yeah you want me to fill this little cunt with my cum, maybe even get you pregnant" vinnie chuckles with his hips still snapping into your ass harshly "please daddy" you whimper.

"your wish will be my command" vinnie smirks throwing your legs over his shoulders and holding your thighs to fuck into you deeper than before "right there vinnie" you moan holding onto the bed sheets before you cum all over vinnie's cock now making a bigger mess between his dick and your hole, you legs bow shaking from the mix of orgasmic pleasure and vinnie "such a good boy for me" vinnie groans feeling his climax coming and soon filling you up, slowly thrusting in you to push his cum deeper and deeper.

"mm that's so good" you hum moving to get up but vinnie pulls you back into his length "wait just a little longer" he huffs holding your hips firmly "fine" you agree laying back down on the slightly soaking bed soon both falling asleep from exhaustion.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker x male reader #vinnie hacker smut #x male reader #gay smut #x male smut #x male y/n #x male #bottom male reader #gay #male reader #ftm reader #Ftm male reader #Ftm

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hyhkai · 10 months ago

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∾ manwhore, mansplain, manipulate | sb

[ 🐬 ] — after having the displeasure of meeting the most annoying, son of a- nevermind, mansplaining cockalorum of your college, who you couldn't have figured to be the pervert type, and who you realize is also a dunce after he won't leave you alone though your annoyance was always written on your face, it's clear, it's obvious he'll only get shoo'ed away at one cost. or at least you think he will, since you've had enough of his bitchy attitude.

cw : PUBLIC, arguing, annoying clingy soobin, soobin's personality in this is quite the opposite from his real one, handjob, degrading crazy amounts.

a/n ; DO BLEACHERS EVEN HAVE SPACES BEHIND THEM, in this they do I couldn't care less, fuck, the title is the male version of gaslight gatekeep girlboss, and I totally made this plot on the spot while writing please.

you almost slammed the pen down onto the desk in a class so quiet that you could hear the clock ticking if paid attention to enough, looking behind after soobin poked at your back for the third time this class. "what. just what is it that you want from me?"

"nothing." he said, placing his head down on his own desk. those eyes may be doe, but they're like a siren to fucking run.

this is the kind of boy who makes you feel special, then ghosts you.

the cute kind of those, too.

"then don't poke me like that" you mumbled, turning your head ahead. you swear if it was possible for you to punch him if he even tried to talk to you during this class again, you would.

he's always been so... desperate, it's that he wants something from you but won't say it out loud, won't use his calculated words.

"y/n," to which he got no response, so he resorted to shaking your chair.

"what the f-" you looked back at him, a look of disappointment, anger and annoyance all over. "fuck you."

"I wish." he mumbled, looking into your eyes with no regret of what he just said.

"oh, wow." you said, and smiled without wanting to. "you're crazy."

"i know, right?" he shook his head in sarcastic thought. "I am kind of crazy."

"now please if you stay quiet, l could pay attention." and to your surprise, he stayed quiet throughout the entirety of what was left of the class. no poking, no chanting your name like a mantra. but it was not a reaction you'd usually get from soobin, he's always been the guy to fuck around with no remorse. and that is, very obvious, he is a dunce.

he's dunce enough to not even realize he is one.

class done, bag packed — you just wanted to get out and go back to your house, eat and sleep like you'd usually do, or like to do. but, alas, there was one thing hindering your peace and happiness — choi soobin. this one heck of a man who would fuck any object that is a good fleshlight alternative, a man who'd be happy from just fingering you.

and that, to you, is a problem.

how can a guy, with a face like that — a build like that, keep on poking and poking and poking at you until you've had enough and slap him across the face, just to get off on it? it's asinine.

so when you're walking out of the building, annoyed that your bag's strap keeps falling off your shoulder — and you spot him on the bleachers, there's one thing you make a mental note of.

change your route to the exit, please.

he almost jumped three stairs down when he saw you, lollipop clung onto his mouth's roof as he swirled it around.

"hey!" he lifted his hand in the air as a way of waving at you.

the loser's back at it again.

you didn't even look, didn't even glance at his figure that can only be described as perfect as he grabbed your bag. it got snatched right away because of just how loose you kept it on your shoulders.

"i said hey." he said again, looking at your exasperated, pretty face when you turned around.

"give that back, loser." you retorted, turning around, your head tilting forward with every word.

"sorry, what?" he said, putting a hand behind his ear to hear you better.

the fucker is now mocking your height? he is mocking your height? him?

"i said, give that back." you said, closing your eyes for a while so you can imagine smacking his face. "give me my bag back."

he laughed at your demands, looking in the direction of the building and right back at you.

"no"

you didn't realize before this that a single word can also hold so much meaning and depict just how much of an absolute motherfucker a man can be.

"no? no?! seriously?!" you looked up at his face that was only giving you realization after realization that he's a slutty bitch. "what do you want from me?"

he suckled on his candy for a while, looking as if in deep thought. but to no surprise with his next statement. "not much, really."

oh really now? not much? it's so obvious since the day he saw you, that in his mind he thought it won't be long until he's going to have you in his lap. is that not too much to ask for?

"just a bit of your time, is all." he continued, looking at the badges pinned on the front of your bag.

“You can’t for one second act like a man can you? You're such a cunt!” you feel like you could rip out your hair with how frustrating he's being. with the amount of cockiness he thinks he's so cool to be binding his personality with, you could beat him up with no regrets. "what do you want from me?! attention? tutoring? pussy?—"

"yeah."

"what?" your face contorted when he responded to the word that was merely a mockery of his wants and needs. "huh." you clicked your tongue. of course your assumptions about him only wanting to get his fill were true.

you grabbed his arm and pushed him further back, until the two of you were behind the bleachers. he didn't react to your very aggressive methods of traveling until you stopped.

"what the fuck are you doin—" he attempted at a protest as he dropped your bag to the ground, but was ultimately shut up with you pulling his head down vehemently and crashing your lips against his, and even though you're the one who initiated the kiss, his response is more enthusiastic than any guy you've ever gotten with — and it's so sloppy, it's unexpected from a boy with lips as plush as his.

maybe it's wrong to do this, maybe it's right, but it's the only way to stop this boy who's been wanting to fuck you for months now. "is this what you wanted? huh?" you asked, looking up at him, his locks of hair between your fingers as he looked at you with lips parted. you took advantage of his state, putting your thumb in his mouth, pressing against his tongue.

"hng—" his hand, as if by ultra instinct, crawled to your waist. maybe it's a form of affection, or maybe he's a desperate slut. "who told you you could touch me with your crusty hands?"

he sucks and licks on them, surprising you as you feel his tongue swirl…fuck, how badly did you misread him? he's liking it?

he couldn't respond, this wasn't the way he'd expected to end up today at all — but hey, he isn't complaining. you rubbed your knee against his crotch, pinning him against the back of the bleachers.

please, someone don't be here.

"keep your mouth open." he was holding back his urge to bite down onto your thumb, as the stiffness of his body finally gave out and he stood straight up. you fed him your index finger, pressing your knee against his crotch again, rubbing as your brain went airplane mode. this isn't the best way to stop his bullshit, no, but you like it this way. him, on the other hand? he loves it this way, the slut is just too shy to admit it.

"awh, the manwhore is too shy to talk back now?" you pulled your fingers out, bubbles and strings of saliva on the pads of your fingers when your hands slipped into his pants after unzipping them, and you felt just how horny he can get in a span of a few minutes. he's enjoying this.

"um, so— holy shit— wh—” hes stumbling over his words. his hands are limp to protest against you, and his cock is too hard for him to protest against you.

you clasp your hand over his mouth, weakly, but he stills shuts up his ramble and jumble of words, blinking at you from above, with those god damn pretty eyes.

"shut up. just shut up. i bet you jerk off your stupid dick all night thinking about me, fucking whore."

his eye twitched at the statement, but he still does. "please fuck me." he requested while being muffled and jumbled.

"I am," you said as a matter of fact, tugging at his cock slowly. "I'm touching you, soobin."

"but, not completely." and this just showed how much of a demanding brat he is, not satisfied with the bare minimum friction he's getting.

"tch, tch, such a desperate man. aren't you happy a girl like me is touching your disgusting dick?" pressing your thumb on his tip to which his eye twitched, trying to grab your wrist to stop the pressure.

You could feel his breath on your neck—hot and heavy, which makes you feel things, to your demise — makes you wet, as you moved his hand out of the way for you, and after slight resistance, he pathetically lets you, followed by a whimper following shortly after when you start to slowly palm him. The moment you feel it twitched, you halt your movement, removing your hand from his crotch all together.

"h-hah.. h-huh? yeahh... yeah— fuck, please please, touch it properly, please—" he finally broke, letting out a whine he wishes you didn't hear, but judging by the smirk on your face, you definitely did. and it was hot— fuck, it was the sexiest thing he's ever done.

"ugh, I don't have all day for this." you shook your head, stretching the waistline of his bottoms forward and shoving you hands down again.

"holy fuuccck." he whispered, marvelling at the touch of your nails on the underside of his tip.

you twisted your hand as you jerked at his tip, causing his knees to bend an inch and his hips to buckle, closing his eyes shut. "shut the fuck up, soobin. don't need any student hearing you getting your cock jerked off, do we?" to which he mindlessly nodded, his head thrown back against the harsh metal that's probably heated up from the summer rays.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed under his breath, head tilting side to side every now that then, his chest heaving up and down. you squeezed his dick with your palm, causing his eyelids to squeeze. this sight has your panties in a bunch, but you can't show him that.

you press harder, his breaths knocked out of him, a slight squeak by the end that has his ears turning red and heated. you looked down at the sight of your hands shoved down his denims. "hah, do you not know when to stop annoying a girl? when to quit with your antics, and be a good boy? do you have no shame?” you mock, feeding his desire to be degraded that you're sure he has from the way he's reacting.

"is this— fuck, h-hah, is this the way you put all annoying guys in their place?" he questioned, managing to flutter his eyes open. he looked at you from the corner of his eye, trying to hide his face that was turning pink.

you laughed at the question, still looking down, index finger nudging his balls. "maybe it is. will that stop you from being an absolute annoying slut? will it?"

he couldn't respond, of course he couldn't — he's busy marvelling at the feeling of your warm, soft hands so all he could do was shake his head vehemently in a no.

what a slut!

"of course it wouldn't, pathetic whores like you only think from their dicks. you're a shameless bitch, soobin."

he couldn't protest, couldn't respond to the insults thrown at him — he's breathing is so messed up now his back is rubbing up and down the metal. "I'm gonna— I'm—" and he came in his pants, which will surely be a disaster for him to wash out afterwards.

you pulled your hand out, disguising your arousal with disgust at the sight of cum on your fingers, which you scrubbed off on the pockets of his pants, lifting your bag off the ground and throwing it on your shoulder. "keep being annoying."

i can write a whole fic explaining why I should give up on writing. okay goodbye. thank you for reading my garbage <3

#sub!idol #sub!txt #soobin smut #soobin hard hours #soobin hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader #soobin x reader

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comatosebunny09 · 7 months ago

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first class | sylus

summary: sylus likes to play dangerous games. today, you happen to be his rook piece. warning(s): female anatomy described, explicit language, dirty talk, bodily fluids, exhibitionism, reader's attire is described, profanity, blue balls of the female persuasion, praise kink now playing: devil's advocate - the neighbourhood notes: something i threw in @muvaginger's inbox. i'm sorry for my mind. thank you for reading, lovebugs.

Sylus, but calling you when you’ve just gotten off work.

“Are you home?” he asks, all husky on the other end. He knows you aren’t if the telltale shadow cast by a crow circling overhead is anything to go by.

“Not yet.”

“Well, get there.” Amusement resides in his voice. You have half a mind to tell him off for bossing you around like that. Like you don’t secretly enjoy it.

“Yeah, yeah. On my way.”

You hang up and shove your phone into your pocket. Put your helmet on, throwing your leg over your bike’s seat and settling on the cushion. Start it, the engine purring to life beneath you. After waving goodbye to Tara, you peel off, zipping through the energetic streets of Linkon towards your home.

Inside the lobby, your phone buzzes again. You roll your eyes, shoving your earpiece into your ear as you trudge through the lobby.

“What!” you grate out.

“Moving a little too slow there, kitten.”

If only you could punch him through the phone. You tamp down your anger, switching tactics. “What’s this about, anyway?”

He chuckles low and throaty, the sound of it prickling your brain. “Patience is a virtue.”

You scoff. “You’re one to talk.” Asshole, you add inwardly.

You catch the elevator to the floor where your apartment resides. Slide your key in, easing through the door into your entryway. Barely have time to set your keys down before a sharp rapping snaps your attention to the door.

“Open it,” Sylus orders.

Hesitant, you pivot towards it. Fingers twitch near your hip where your gun’s holstered. Slowly, you reach for the handle, mindful of your steps.

A soft laugh rings in your ear.

“Easy, sweetheart. It’s not an ambush. If I wanted to off you, I would’ve done so by now.”

“I never know with you,” you clip back, turning the doorknob.

After mentally counting to three, you throw the door open and peek outside. Silence and an empty hallway greet you. You glance left and right. Up and down the hall until a large, crimson box catches in your peripheral, seated on your doormat. You fetch it, admiring the black ribbon intricately wrapped around it.

“What’s this?” you query, kicking your door shut once you’re back inside.

“A gift.”

“Another one?”

His tone swims with nonchalance. “What can I say? I enjoy spoiling you rotten.”

You test the weight of the box. Shake it, hearing tissue paper and something heavy stir inside.

“Open it.”

You oblige. Tear the ribbon and top off, eyes curiously raking over the box’s contents. Inside is a long, black trench coat. Beneath that rests a long-sleeved, silk blouse. Deeper still lies a simple miniskirt, and you test its material between your fingers. It all looks and feels incredibly expensive despite its simplicity.

“Put it on,” Sylus instructs through the stillness.

“What? Why?”

“Because you have a train to catch in—” A brief pause. “One hour.”

“What the fuck? A train? An hour? Sylus—”

“Time is ticking, sweetie.”

The phone clicks with his exit.

You throw the clothes onto your couch, scrutinizing them over folded arms, chewing your lip. It’s 50 degrees out. Where the hell does he think you’re going dressed like this? Does he plan to use you as bait or something?

Your phone buzzes again on your coffee table. You fetch it to see a QR code for a train ticket sitting in your inbox.

“Shit,” you hiss, scrambling for your bathroom to shower. He’s serious. There really is no time to spare.

He’d better have a good reason for being so cryptic.

—

“The second to last car,” he husks in your ear. “Meet me there in five.”

Your lips contort into a scowl. You rip your earpiece out, wending through the train’s other passengers to pursue your goal.

In the corners of your vision, the scenery outside the windows eases by. Greenery nestled beneath the snow, somewhere remote. It’s beautiful. You take time to admire the sights before finding your way to the second to last car.

The door slides shut behind you. It’s quiet, save for the occasional rumble of the train upon the tracks. The passengers here are sparse. It’s a luxury cabin, decked with armchairs, faux plants, and an expensive carpet.

You survey the area, spotting an unmistakable thatch of white nestled in the rear seat. Try to mask your giddiness as you make your way towards the back. It’s been a few days since you’ve last seen him.

Wordlessly, he motions to the seat across from him when you venture to his side, wearing that customary smirk. You plop down, folding your arms. Bite back a smile of your own, favoring a frown.

“What’s this all about?”

Sylus leans back in an easy slouch, and the way he manspreads makes your mouth water. He peers down at you from his nose, draping a long arm over the headrest of his seat. His turtleneck and coat do little to disguise the power of his body. The tendons in his neck dance. Jaw flexes. He motions to your lap with a flick of his gaze.

“Touch yourself,” he rasps.

Your eyes grow comically wide. “Excuse me?!” you hiss, mindful of your volume. Look around to ensure no one’s the wiser to your conversation. No hello. No I’ve missed you. No preamble whatsoever.

His smug look doesn’t waver. “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart.” There’s an underlying edge to his voice. One that doesn’t leave room for argument. Still, you contest him.

“Sylus, there are people here!”

That enraged whisper thing you do—it’s endearing.

Sylus’ eyes darken with something sinister. He hasn’t stopped watching you since the moment you sat down. Hasn’t stopped raking his eyes over your honeysuckle thighs, your hips.

“They can watch,” he drawls with an innocent shrug.

“Sylus!”

“Sweetie, I’m not asking.” Though he bears an expression of amusement, you can tell he means business. Consequences typically follow when you don’t heed him. Delicious consequences.

You swallow thickly. Sylus’ silhouette blurs as you survey the car over his shoulder. There are at least three other passengers here, all seated near the door you came through. More than enough distance between you. Your lover bleeds back into focus, his brow raised in challenge.

With a weighted sigh, you shift to make yourself more comfortable. Loosen the tie of your coat, drawing it open whilst easing your hips forward. Hesitantly spread your legs, feeling Sylus’ optics tuned to your every move. Something hot and sticky has already begun to gather in your panties, and your nipples tighten beneath the frail silk of your blouse.

He cutely cocks his head to the side when you hesitate. Eyes narrow. “What’s wrong, sweetie,” he croons all low. You feel it coiling in your stomach. “Scared?”

You cut your eyes to him, mouth drawn into a tight line. Of course you are. You’ve never done anything like this. He’s introduced you to all kinds of things. Uncovered fantasies lurking deep in your mind. Discovered all the erogenous zones on your body you never knew you housed, but—

Exhibitionism is new. Dangerous. And somehow, the thought of it makes you wetter.

“Go on,” he soothes. Encourages, irises dipping into a mysterious shade of garnet.

Your body moves of its own volition, spellbound. Thighs part a little more, hands smoothing over plump flesh. You sigh out, leaning back as you drag your nails over the inner curve of your thighs, bunching your skirt up towards your hips. A little more enthusiastic now, teasing your swollen outer labia with the knuckles of your thumbs.

Sylus’ mouth parts slightly. His gaze flickers downward, entranced by the show and the soft hitch of your breath. He looks back into your eyes, clicking his tongue in discovery. Reaches out a sizable hand, leaning towards you with his elbows digging into the pockets of his knees.

“Panties. Take them off.”

Your tummy sparkles with heat. He quirks a brow. He’s serious. It’s not enough to touch yourself like this in public. He wants you bare and exposed, staining the armchair with your heat.

Without a word, you shimmy out of your underwear. Thin and frill as they slide down your calves, over your ankles to pool at your feet. You compliantly deposit them into his hand. A bitten-off growl brews in his chest. He falls back against his seat, stuffing your panties into his coat’s inner pocket for safekeeping. Signals for you to keep going, fully invested in this game.

You repeat the process from before. And it’s a new sensation now, the crisp air of the train car kissing your sticky pussy. You try to think of other things. Try to distract yourself from the smolder of his gaze and how it makes your body hum and your mind fill with smoke.

You think about his fingers instead of yours, stroking down the slit of your pussy. His fingers rubbing at the hood of your clitoris, drawing it back to stroke your pretty, swollen clit. His thumbs sliding over your nipples, causing your back to arch, his tongue laving at the space behind your ear…

Your hips stutter. You stifle a moan. Sylus slides in and out of focus, your vision fogging around the corners. He chuckles amorously, shifting in his seat. “Don’t stop,” he nurtures, eyes burning like a feverish flame. His dick sits heavy in his slacks, slowly hardening and twitching.

You salivate. Knowing that he’s enjoying this as much as you gradually are—fuck. You bite your lip, propping your leg on the chair’s arm. Spread nice and wide for him, your pussy on full display.

You rut against your fingers, your face screwed up in rapture. Legs quiver each time the pads of your fingers bump your messy clit. You construct a rhythm that’s maddeningly slow and torturous. Feel that sparkling rush lazily pooling between your thighs, but it’s not enough. Wanna be filled and stuffed to the brim with cum.

His cum.

A glimpse at Sylus reveals something that makes you throb. He’s touching himself. Humping into the palm of his hand, hot and weighted through the thick layers of his clothes. Fuck. You pulse.

“Syl,” you sob quietly, wetly, wantonly. “Syl, please—”

“Use your fingers,” he breathes all ragged. “Inside.” Angles his head back until it thumps against the headrest. Doesn’t look away, still rucking his hips up into the heel of his palm like the slow undulation of a wave.

You indulge, circling the pucker of your pussy with your fingers. Steadily work one inside, and you sigh, tossing your head back. Caress your tits with your free hand, plucking your nipples to their peaks as you drive your finger in and out. The lewd, squelching sounds you make as you torture yourself causes your walls to clench down.

Sylus’ voice crackles, pouring through the fizzy haze that’s settled over you.

“One more. You can take one more, can’t you, sweetie?”

You moan at how his voice oozes like warm milk and honey. You’re obedient, gradually adding another, pumping in and out. A thick ring of cream collects around your knuckles. It’s still not enough. Never enough.

“That’s my girl,” he lauds, relief in his timbre. “So good for me. So, so good.”

“Sylus,” you sob, fucking yourself a little faster. Wish it were him instead, filling you up and pumping you with the briny edge of his cum. There’s a warm fluid trickling down your leg. Heat spooling in your tummy.

He greedily ingests the sight of you fucking yourself, groaning hoarsely. You’re so close to spilling over the edge, so close to losing yourself to an orgasm. And you would—

If not for the sound of footfalls nearing your position.

“Shit!” you hiss, snapping your legs shut. Work your skirt into some semblance of neatness, throwing your coat over your legs. Your cheeks and neck are aflame, pulse pounding in your throat, pussy throbbing.

You don’t make eye contact as the gentleman passes, too busy looking at your fingers in your lap. He’s none the wiser to the goings on in your section—or, at least, he acts like he isn’t—as he bows with a small smile, slipping through the door behind. Sylus tracks his every move, and if looks could kill…

Your heart thrums heavily in your ears. You caution a glance at your boyfriend, taking in his flushed cheeks, his heaving chest. He’d thrown his coat over his lap to disguise the monster pressing against the seam of his trousers.

You lock eyes. His lips pull into a scowl as he sits up, pitching himself forward. Cants his head to one side, voice abrasive and low.

“Did I tell you to close your fucking legs?”

A thrill racks through you. It’s rare that he curses, only sullying his tongue when he’s upset or too far gone. It turns your stomach to a primordial ooze. Without warning, Sylus gathers himself up, snatching your wrist along with him.

You stumble like a baby fawn to your feet, gazing into those eyes that dwindle like liquid spilled over burning coals.

“We aren’t done here, sweetheart,” he promises with a tense jaw. Tugs you from your seat and down the aisle, all the while fishing for something in his pocket. A quick glance reveals a barcode, and a number printed in bold letters on a bit of plastic. A keycard. The sneaky little…

He peers at you over his shoulder as you both maneuver through the throng of passengers in the remaining cars, back towards the front. Your features warm with a smile. Legs tingle.

You weren’t aware that this train had sleeper cars, but you’re grateful to know it does. Your body buzzes with the prospect of what’s to come. He’s not done with you, indeed.

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