#do you ever just start out a relationship

[muntitled]

Force-Fed

Pairings: The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: You didn't need a job. Not when you only needed him.

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Language, Coercion, Standards Relationship, Abuse, Isolation, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Jealousy, Codependency, Stalking, Yandere!Salesman, Smut (+18) mdni, DDLG, Taboo Sex (she literally calls him dad), Freudian Slip, Daddy Kink, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Subspace, Slight!Age Regression, Choking, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Dacryphillia, Breeding Kink

A/n: If this isn't your vibe, leave the fic alone. Read something else. Like always I'm not responsible for the media you consume.

Installing a mobile tracker on your phone might not have been the most morally good thing to do, that he could admit. Perhaps even more incriminating is that the idea struck him while you were passed out on the floor, your body thoroughly spent from all his ravaging. He was nothing if not an inquisitive man and he needed to see what you got up to during the week, when you were without him. (Note: this started out as a precaution. For your own good. You ought to be thankful to have someone like him in your life).

Who knew that the tracker would bring him here?

His jaw is screwed shut as he leans down under the awning of a building, spotting you through the window of a tired coffee shop, donning a uniform he hadn't even known you owned- it set him alight with a certain level of possessiveness that was foreign to him.

He admits that before you, he'd never had much use for any pointless emotions like love or care. They were, at their very core function, just hormones injected into the brain in order to trick humans into reproduction. That's what he saw you as for the longest time: A means of reproduction. A conduit through which he could fulfill all his most absurd fantasies- fantasies that scared even himself.

When he hit you, fondled you, groped you or stretched your body beyond its tantalizing capabilities, he truly believed he was making you useful, and in return for your services you got to coast through university without having to worry about bills.

That's what it was supposed to be. Nothing less and certainly nothing more.

So what the hell is this?

Today is a Tuesday and your 'sessions' together are scheduled on Wednesday. He ought to just keep on walking and go about the rest of his day forgetting having ever seen you.

As far as your agreement was concerned, you were strictly expected to leave him to his devices throughout the week- it never occurred to him that he would also be expected to leave you to yours.

It makes him tsk, seeing you scrub the counters of a cafe... as if you didn't have him to provide for you.

Had he not provided you with enough?

Had you not gotten everything you wanted?

You were like a dog without a leash.

And his hand was itching to pull you right back to him.

He walks into the coffee shop before his brain is finished processing his movements.

"Good afternoon-" greeted the young man behind the counter. The place smelt like roasted coffee beans and debt. It's obvious in the very few patrons milling about that this business was doomed to fail. Your Salesman had a knack for spotting abject poverty and the owner- your boss, one Lee Junmin was teetering on the edge of financial ruin. It's a very good thing that your Salesman is here to save you from this sinking ship.

"Good afternoon," your salesman says stiffly, almost amicably.

He finds you mid-conversation with your coworker. There's a smile on your face as you crane your neck back, holding a cup under the burning faucet of a coffee machine. You're speaking amicably and you're still smiling. Genuinely. Not at all the robotic smile you reserved for the Salesman during your 'sessions'.

He realises now, watching you with a real smile plastered on your face, that you had been lying to him. You don't seem as broken as you claim to be. Seeing you here, assimilated into society. Sporting a part time job?

His knuckles clench around the handle of his briefcase. He was brimming with the need to punish you for it.

It's absurd.

To punish someone for being a fully functional human being. Not even his own psychological issues could adequately reason that.

The younger boy behind the counter rests a hand on your shoulder, finally letting your eyes settle on the tall Salesman behind the counter.

He can see the moment your breath catches in your throat.

How he wishes he had his heavy hands wrapped tight around that throat. He'd choke you for trying to get rid of him. For trying to... not need him.

"Could you take care of this customer? I need to go out for a break-" Your co-worker mumbles quietly and your heart drops like a bag of dipped in molten lava at the sight of him standing there on the opposite end of the counter. There's a smug sort of smirk playing across his features. I've caught the traitor, now it's off with your head.

You begrudgingly steel your nerves before turning to face your co-worker again, trying to even your breathing as you assimilate back into your easy banter, "And how many times have I told you smoking is bad for you-"

Your co-worker raises his tattooed hands, sporting a boyish grin. It's oddly refreshing to interact with a boy your age- someone normal who wasn't drowning in psychopathic tendencies or bullying homeless people for fun.

"Who said I'm going for a smoke break?" He asks, as you slide up to the counter. You situated yourself behind the barrier as if it was going to keep you safe. You knew nothing could keep you safe from the tense shadow hovering over your benefactor's eyes. The Salesman is livid as your co-worker finally makes himself scarce and after a few tense seconds, he finally speaks.

"I didn't know you did this." He says, staring you down the bridge of his nose.

Play it calm. Play it cheeky. Play it coy.

"You didn't know I make coffee?" That snooty remark doesn't earn you a single gratifying chuckle. It doesn't even earn you a soft, meaningless smile. In contrast, all it gets you is monotony. He's pissed.

"Worked." He spits out, "I didn't know you worked."

You only manage to stare up at him, silently before turning your attention to the screen in front of you.

There were a great many things he had already stolen from you- full autonomy over your body being the greatest loss. You'd raise up hell itself before you truly let him strip you of your independence.

"What can I get you for today?" Swift. Curt. Professional. As if you hadn't felt this man inside you. As if he hadn't choked you out until your vision was sparkling with stars. As if you didn't have his cock down your throat. No one here knew about your arrangement. In this coffee shop, you were safe from your history with the Salesman.

"Americano," You sigh softly, thinking he'll respect you enough to keep things professional. Poor, naive you.

“Tell them you quit." He says, forcing you to look up at his cold, dead orbs. "Do it now."

Your finger pause over the screen and your breathing picks up.

He couldn't do this. Not here. Not when you've finally found refuge away from him, his sadism, his demands and his reminders that he held the keys to you obtaining your degree. This coffee shop was the one place he couldn't reach you...

So why were you already on the cusp of giving in?

Your eyes flit over to the few patrons milling about before staring up at the man on the other side of the counter. Daylight was dwindling and beyond the windows, the city was drenched in an orange, almost pink late afternoon glow.

"Your order's coming right up."

"This place is going bankrupt soon. They'll fire you. It's better you quit now before they do." Your hands falter as you struggle to swallow that deeply authoritative veneer in his voice. That fatherly sort of guidance. Be careful, it said.

"Oh, this is you protecting me?" You hated that this was taking place at work, but business is indeed slow and the only other worker here is in the back of the building, smoking away his problems.

"Not protecting you." He says with a shake of his head, as a slow smile curls the ends of his lips, "Warning you."

You rolled your eyes then. It made his hand twitch with the need to correct you. To force you to submit to him. If there's one thing he couldn't stand, it's a rabid little girl.

"You can have a seat while you wait for your Americano-"

"Fuck the Americano." It comes out louder than he intended. It's a surprise, just like the vein popping out of his forehead. His mask was slipping.

"Tell them you wanna quit." He says in a much softer, more in-control tone of voice. He leans against the counter so that the words exchanged are heard only by the two of you.

There is deep anger and menace in his eyes. You can see the warning in them. Its blood-red and calling for you to just submit.

But you're feeling particularly brave. And so you immediately respond.

"Or what?"

"Or I’ll fucking kill you. You or that co-worker." His gaze fits to the door through which the boy disappeared as he sighed and said, "Remember the roommate's boyfriend?"

How could you ever forget?

There was blood.

So much blood.

Who knew humans were walking around with that much blood inside them?

"You want to threaten me out of having a job?" You were losing this battle and quickly. Desperation is the only thing you cling to as your eyes peer up at him.

"Want to?" He shakes, “Little Girl, I am threatening you. Quit now. Your co-worker would greatly appreciate it.”

He taps that counter once before taking a seat. "I'll get that Americano to go."

𓂃

Devastation.

A hyperbole of sadness and a pure manifestation of self pity that overwhelmed you in the taxi ride back to your apartment. Your mind replayed the confusion that graced your co-workers friendly face when you told him you 'just couldn't work here anymore'. The genuine sadness in his eyes had stopped you dead in your tracks. It triggered tears that you didn't even know you had because he actually made you feel loved.

Real love, not the fake stuff given to you by this hulking man seated silently in the taxi beside you.

The interior is flooded with neon lights and myriad little stars are plastered in the black sky.

"Fix your face," he grumbles without looking at you, "You're ruining everyone's mood."

You went the rest of taxi ride, sulking up a storm, until you arrived at your apartment building where you didn't look at him once, as you rode the elevator up, up, and up.

While you were contemplating genuine suicide, he, on the other hand, was one of the happiest- if not the happiest man on the planet.

He told you to correct your mood but the truth is he loved it. He loved seeing you so juvenile, as if you were teetering on the edge of a tantrum he so badly wanted to correct. He loved seeing you sulk like a child. It set his bones alight with a deep, uncomparable need.

He thought pain was the only thing that got his dick hard.

Perhaps he stands corrected.

"Take off your shoes," he hollers in that same tone of authority once you've entered your apartment building. You're like a ghost as you turn to kick your shoes off at the door before lugging your body deeper into the house. He watches you drop your handbag right there on the floor, before you're throwing yourself on the couch, face first like a sack of potatoes.

He attempts to hide his smile as he walks in along after you. He undoes the buttons of his blazer as he stands above you, eyeing you under a quirked brow as your shoulders begin to wrack with your tears.

He shrugs off the blazer before folding it on the nearest armchair.

You flinch when you feel his hand on your foot, lifting it up to make space for his large frame lowering onto the couch.

That infuriatingly warm voice is back as he quietly asks "Why are you crying?"

He extends his hands to the small of your back, rubbing dizzying circles while you cry and cry. He's comforting you after being the very reason you need comfort in the first place. Everything about this man is one big contradiction.

"I thought you'd be happy about this." Your voice is muffled by the cushion. You don't look up at him.

"What on earth would give you the impression that I want you to work?" He asks.

"W-Well," you attempt to rain in your sniffles and he attempts to not visibly grow a boner as your bloodshot eyes finally come into view. You're a beautiful mess for him. Your lashes are wet and your nose is runny and he wants to do so many vile things to you, its eating away at his soul.

He wants to play this game for as long as he can though, this sulking game that he didn't know hed enjoy so much. He settles for setting his hand at the back of your head as you talk.

"If I have a job that means there's less stuff you have to buy for me and-" You answer, sniffling cutely as you sit beside him. You're staring down at your hands fidgeting in your lap while his eyes can't leave the pathetic tears running down your face.

He doesn't think when he says it. He's not thinking about anything other than your body. How little you become for him. How sombre and sullen and sulky you are.

"And what if I prefer it?" He asks softly, "Taking care of you?"

You shake your head, trying to remove his hand ghosting behind you but he only weaves his fingers into your braids, keeping a wonderful grip on your scalp.

"You had no right to do that- you had no right to make me quit."

He leans over, sufficiently done with all these terrible games you've played and forced him to play. He was so dangerously close to combustion, his hands were trembling as he reached over to undo the buttons of your work polo shirt. You let him.

Of course you let him.

"Who was that then? You kissed him before?" His eyes find you before moving back down to the t-shirt. His fingers hook under the ends of the shirt as he lifts it up.

"Who was who? My co-worker?" You sound tired and dejected and you immediately hug yourself when nothing but cool air drifts over your naked torso. He moves a large hand over your breasts, marveling at the sheer size of it, comparing it in his hands. Your body truly was magnificent, he realizes. And all he has done this whole time is try to kill it.

"That... child," he breathes before dropping his hands down to your work pants. He undoes the buttons and you watch him with an intense look in your eye.

"You have a knack for calling every boy my age a child," you say shortly.

"That's because you're young," he admits before tapping your thigh slightly. You lift your hip and let him maneuver you out of the khaki pants, never to be worn again. The smell of coffee still hangs heavily over your skin but it's significantly less intense. Right now all he smells is you.

"And yet," you showcase to him the latest bruise along your collarbone. It's big and angry and hid very easily under the polo shirt. However, here under the overhead lights of your apartment, he could see them, "Look at everything you've ever done to me-"

He groans then. He actually groans.

His eyes flutter shut as his legs spread a little wider and he sinks a little lower into the couch. "Fuck," he whispers, head swinging towards you as he flutters his eyes back open.

"Come sit on my lap?"

His request only catches you remarkably off-guard. “Excuse me?”

"I said come sit on my lap," he replies so defiantly it nearly has your brain short circuiting. You narrow your eyes, not trusting it.

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'? Because I'm hard and I'd like you to sit on my lap."

"Is this another game?" You ask, still remarkably on the fence about the man who had been the pinnacle of sadism, suddenly force-feeding you his affections.

"If you don't sit on my lap I will bring out the cane again, don't tempt me-" before your able to make a decision, he makes one for you- attacking you with his large hands before you're able to protest any further. He wrestles you onto him, forcing you to take what he gave.

You're made to straddle his left thigh as he pulls you in close until your tits are pressed up against his shirt. He buries his head in-between the crook of your neck and you croak out a moan as he inhales you sharply. He hugs you towards him, bouncing you slightly on his knees. The feeling shoots straight to your cunt and you immediately begin to groan on top of him.

With his head over your shoulder, you can feel his fingers grace over the marks he'd left before. The marks from the cane. It scarred your back. Moulding the flesh in his image. Branding you as his

"You're young but you can handle it." He whispers, swiping his thumb over your scars before drifting his hands down to your hip. He slowly begins to drag your hips forward and you gasp, immediately searching for something to grab onto. You settle for his shirt. Your fingers curl around the fabric and he lets you ruin it as he pushes you back slowly on his thigh. He continues these torturous movements until your cunt gets the message and starts acting accordingly.

He watches with a slow nod as you begin to ride his thigh like he's conditioned you to.

"Jeez-" It was the sheer intimacy of the actual act that had your arousal dripping out of you and onto his thigh. You'd never had sex with him- purely for sex. It had always been an act of torture or punishment that had always led to sex. But never something so sexual being done so blatantly .

"Fuck yourself on my thigh-" he whispers hoarsely, almost pained as he urges you along. "You can do it, can't you? You can be a good slut for me?"

An equally pained whimper seeps out of your closed lips as you begin to ride his thigh like your life depends on it- spurred on by darkness in his glare and the bulge tenting his pants.

When you notice him undoing the buttons of those pants you realize you are utterly done for.

"Good little slut," he mumbles as he mindlessly reaches inside his boxers to uncover his cock already dripping precum.

"Open your mouth-" he's already shoving his fingers inside, flattening your tongue in order to collect as much saliva as possible before spreading it all over his cock. You watch in complete wonder as he begins to fuck his fist to the same rhythm you ride his thigh- it's so mesmerizing.

"D-Does this count as a session or-"

"Shh-" he says, squeezing his eyes shut as his hand squeezes the base of his cock.

He fluffers his eyes open again, only to state deeply into your lust-filled gaze.

"I don't think I've ever cum inside you with the actual objective of getting you pregnant." His words completely knock you off-kilter and he needs to bring his hand up to your side to stop you from slipping off his thigh.

He continues to stroke his cock, picking up speed.

"I've only ever just... did it.”

“Pl-Please stop talking-” you mumble, “I’ll cum,”

He doesn't listen.

“I cum inside you 'cus it's what I feel like doing in the moment," you try to stitch every piece of this moment to memory. The wrinkles lining his manic eyes, smile wiped clean from his face, leaving only a serious, aroused look of an incredibly grown, strong man.

"F-Fuck," your hips stutter on top of him as you softly whimper. "D-Dad-"

It cracks out of you.

And almost immediately you wish you could take it back but you're already cumming. And your words have his eyes widened as he lifts his hips from the couch fucking his fist deeper.

"F-Fuck I'm cumming-" he admits oh so gravely as his eyes squeeze shut.

"Me too-" you whimper as your own orgasm splits through you, soaking his thigh and ruining the fabric further.

Beyond a few shallow words, guaranteeing you that you won't be annihilated, he almost never initiates affection. In fact, you weren't even really sure if he was capable of it yet here he was, confessing the only way he knew how.

You're cumming on top of him as spurts of his cum land on his chest, making a mess on his shirt. You're both breathing heavily in the afterglow. The fog has yet to clear.

You sit up slowly, body wracking with aftershocks.

"This was nice but um- I need you to be rougher-" the words barely leave your mouth before he's clamping your throat shut with his fist. He's breathing heavily with his eyes still squeezed shut.

"You don't need anything-" he reminds you quietly, "You don't make demands, you take what I give you."

He squeezes and squeezes your throat like he did his cock.

"You're like a baby being forced fed.” He says, “My baby. My thing to take care of.”

[kissforyouu]

too much ☆

pairing : sugar daddy!jungkook x fem!reader

genre : smut , fluff

warnings : sugar daddy x sugar baby relationship , implied age gap (reader 20s, jk 30s) , size kink, BIGGGG DDDD (9 inches) , choking , groping , d riding , daddy kink , hickeys , slapping , creampie , panty sniffing , use of petnames (angel, doll, baby, sweetheart) , he talks u thru it , squirting , anal penetration , slight dacryphilia , he gets off to her orgasming , the whole point is he’s too big for her

Today was the day.

You’re so determined to do it. You can do it. Yes, you can.

You were fully prepared, laying on your sugar daddy's expensive ass master bed, wrapped in white lace like a little present for him to unwrap. You looked as if you were a sweet angel fallen into his room filled with all things black and the only thing light being the white walls. And the little parts of you you'd leave hanging around. like makeup, books, clothes, etc. etc.

Too excited, that's what you were. but also nervous, in a way, but you had one goal for tonight. And that was to fit your sugar daddy's cock inside and ride him.

There was a very evident size difference between the two of you. Him being 6ft tall already gave it away, but to add to the list you stood at 5'2ft. He was big in every possible area you could think of, even his cock was massive. fuck. His palm could easily cover your asscheek perfectly without any flesh slipping out. He was a tall successful man with broad shoulders and a muscular body. Thick thighs, big arms—everything you liked in a man.

In addition to that, he was rich. So so rich that he offered you to be his sugar baby. You both met at the mall. So excitedly you went through all the cute dresses you could wear, but definitely not afford. You were still in college. No further explanation needed.

“Ah! this, er, maybe that? don't know!” You were on facetime with your friend, reviewing all the cute dresses you would buy if you had the money. Delusional!

“Nah, nah, nah, the purple one with butterflies would look so good on you!” Your friend squeals, making you squeal back. You might be making too much noise in ths store, but you didn't care.

“You know what would look good with this dress? a cute cardigan and I’d pair this up with some gold hoops."

“Hmm, sounds really pretty”, your friend answered.

“Wish i had the money though...” there was a pout formed on your lips when you look back at the prize tag.

Somehow, your friend ended up having to leave the call due to some work. You end the call, ready to exit the store with absolutely no bags whatsoever. But someone, a man, stops you.

And then he asks you the most out of the blue question ever.

“Want me to buy you that dress?”

That was how it all started. He offered you to become his sugar baby after a full day spent at the mall of him buying you random things. At first, you said no. But he gave you time to decide and also kept sending you gifts over and over. At the end, you agreed. To be fair, you expected him to be the most obscene, rude, horrid man ever. But he's actually...pretty nice. sweet. caring.

Your relationship was 50/50. All you had to do was to take care of that man emotionally, shower him with love which you'll gladly do and also have bomb ass sex with him and he'll pay off all your bills and buy you a shit ton of things in return. The sex wasn't even a topic brought up at first, he didn't need that kind of favour. Just needed a pretty baby to spoil who'll love him in return. The sex just happened on a random friday night. Ever since, you've been getting the best dick you've ever had in your entire life. But there was one problem.

He was too big.

And you were too small.

Sure, the sex was so good and he always made sure to make you cum at least twice each time. It was so good that you couldn't even count the stars rotating around your head each time you orgasmed. But one thing that always managed to bother you...was he satisfied? Because of the obvious size difference, it was hard to fit him inside. Most of the time you’d end up stopping him because it hurt. He won't even be fully in when that happens. Although he always reassured you that he's far more than satisfied with you, you still wouldn't buy it.

But today, you’re going to do it. Gonna make all of him fit inside and give him the orgasm he deserves.

You laid on your back with your eyes fixed on the pattern of the ceiling, feet kicking in the air as you mindlessly waited for him to return home.

But a flirtatious whistle catches you off guard. you immediately rise back up from the bed, eyes darting to the man leaning against the door frame looking at you with a smug look.

“Jungkook!” you squealed.

“Was wondering where you were.” He makes his way towards you.

“I was here.” you mumble.

“I can see...” he snorts.

He lifts you up to sit on the bed by his hands on your waist, then touching your bare stomach, right above the little lace skirt you were wearing.

“For me?” there's a little smug look on his face.

“Who else would it be for?” there’s a sly smirk on your face, batting your lashes as you spoke.

"hah, you little minx" he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, soon cupping your chin and raising your head up.

"when did you buy this?" his thumb teasingly caresses your lower lip.

"mmm, last week. bought it when i went shopping with mina..."

jungkook snickers, thumb now poking in between your lips. instinctively, you open your mouth for him to easily slide his thumb in between. you let out a muffled giggle, swirling your tongue around his thumb.

you both had wide grins on eachother's faces, fully aware of where this was heading.

you choke on his entire thumb the moment he pushes it all in, his thumb and a part of his hand, stuffing your mouth full. with a little bit of drool slipping out of your mouth, you close your eyes with a hum, but jungkook pulls his hand out.

hurriedly, with a satisfied grin, jungkook begins to unbuckle his belt. but before he could move any further, you were quick enough to stop him, bringing confusion to his face.

"huh?"

"kook, the bed. get on the bed, please." you request.

jungkook raises his eyebrow as your unusual request, but still obeying. he removes his shoes first, then gets on the bed, legs spread and leaning against the headboard as he waits for your next move. you couldn't help but let out a small giggle, excitedly making your way to sit in between his legs.

jungkook, in the other hand, admist his confusion, still couldn't hold back the little smile that threatened to come out. let's just say...this relationship was more than just being a sugar daddy and sugar baby. for him, at least. he'd like to think so.

you push some of your hair back, brushing it along the way and letting it fall down your shoulders as you made yourself comfortable between his legs. pretty, jungkook thinks.

"what're you going to do?" he asks, voice as gentle as ever.

you let out a long hum, fingers struggling to open the zipper of his trousers. he was rock hard, so it was hard to get the zip down. ugh.

jungkook chuckles at your struggles, "want me to take it off for you?"

you shake your head in denial. no. you were gonna do everything tonight with no help from him. with the help of the strong mentality you've set on getting goal done, you manage to successfully pull the zipper off.

you sigh, relieved, but jungkook just laughs at you, almost mockingly.

"what?" you ask.

"nothing, baby, 'just love watching you trying to please me. you're gonna take my cock tonight? hm?" the corner of his lip curves up.

"hmmmm, yes" you're moaning.

jungkook snorts, as if he's not believing you. but he takes off his trousers and boxers, leaving his lower body bare. you're gulping while staring at his erect cock, finally free from the restraints of his white calvein klein boxers. he's already leaking precum.

you lean forward, taking his fat cock in your hands, giving it a few pumps. smearing the precum all over the tip, you use it as lube, pumping his cock again. it barely fits in your hands. you have to use both your hands to hold it.

your ass was up, back slightly arched as you took his cock in your mouth. a muffled moan immediately escapes you, as you slowly slowly take him in deeper in your mouth inch by inch. fuck, was it hard. suddenly getting the urge to cough, you quickly pull him off of your mouth and turn your head around to cough.

"shit, you okay, doll?"

nodding your head in embarrassment, you take hold of his cock again to leave kitten licks all over it. you begin by licking the tip of his cock, swiping your tongue over the small alleyway of his cockhead several times. jungkook hisses at the feeling, eyes droopy. happily, you're licking all over his shaft as if it's your favourite ice cream.

you lick a long stripe up his shaft again, then circling your tongue on the dent in his cockhead. pulling away to spit on his cock, you rub your saliva all over the base with both your hands, then taking his cock in your mouth again.

you sink it down your throat further, slobbering all over his cock, saliva gushing out of your mouth and covering his cock full. his hand instinctively lands on the back of your head, caressing your hair and giving your scalp a subtle massage.

you were so beautiful, he thought.

slowly, you move your head up and down his length, sucking his cock in your mouth. his cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat, causing him to let out a few grunts from here and there. he was surprisingly very vocal during sex. and that just got you even wetter.

"mhm, that's right. taking my cock well, huh? taught you good?" his free hand taps your cheek, feeling his cock against your cheek. your cheeks were hollow, your face felt hot. it was obviously heating up, and so was your pussy. jungkook's hand leaves the back of your head to touch your other cheek, both hands holding up your face now as you took him in your mouth. he grunts, releasing another breath.

you slurp up your saliva on his cock only to spit it back, swiping your tongue on his base. you bob your head on his cock, enjoying all of his moans to the fullest. his thumbs swipe over your cheeks repeatedly, wiping away the small tears that are falling down.

"bet you're soaking right now, hm? fhuck—i can imagine how pretty your panties look right now. drenched and sticking to your pussy? isn't that right, angel?"

you hurry to nod your head, still sucking him in your mouth. fuck, you were so cockdrunk. jungkook knew exactly how to get you riled up. the small touches and caresses, holding your face and hair, he knew you liked that. of course he did. he knew your body like the back of his hand.

"yeah?" he acknowledges your nodding, petting your head. you try to best to flash him a smile, moaning in between. "that's right." his palm lays flat on top of your head again as he pushes your head back down on his cock, his cockhead hitting the back of your throat again.

you're pretty sure it's gonna bruise there.

up! down! up! down! you go, warming his cock up by the insides of your mouth. your right hand is wrapped around the rest of his cock that you can't fit while the other squeezed his balls.

the harder jungkook pushed the more you gagged on his cock. it felt suffocating, but you knew jungkook would never do anything to hurt you. you're whining, clawing his thighs. your eyes rolled to the back of your head followed by a series of cusses coming from jungkook's mouth.

"ohhh, oh, hah, fuck, fuck." his head is thrown back against the headboard of the bed. he lets out a whiny little moan, spilling his load into your mouth. jungkook wipes away your tears once you slip his cock out of your mouth with a pop, reassuring you on how well you did.

"you did so well, angel. took my cock so good." he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail to raise your head back up. you looked so fucked out just from his dick in your mouth. it was definitely a huge ego boost for him. as much as he loved seeing you pretty and dolled up for him, this look on you has got to be one of his favourites. naked, sweaty and fucked out from his dick. you were so pretty.

"hmm...", he groans, hand sliding up from your left breast to the back of your neck, pulling you on top of him so that you'd be sitting on his lap. "liked having a mouth full of cock?" he grins mockingly, left arm folded on his back as he rests back on it. you nod your head, eyes still closed. the man chuckles, wiping away the drool on your face and chest. he makes sure to wipe his hand on your asscheek also, then slapping it afterwards.

"good now?" he checks up on you.

"yes. all good." you flash him a toothy smile with a thumbs up. jungkook smiles, tongue poking his cheek. "c'mere." he pulls you closer by your waist and securely wraps his right arm around you. your cheek was resting against his peck while he caressed your hair, giving your scalp a few massages here and there.

jungkook trails kisses from the back of your ear down to your neck, darting his tongue out to lick some areas known to make you moan. "let me take care of you, doll."

your sugar daddy gently lays down your body on the bed, hovering over you quickly. he takes a moment to stare down at you, a stupid little smile brightening up his face. you raise your eyebrow, quick to pick up on that. "what? why're you smiling like that?" you ask.

"why not?" jungkook snickers, he pinches the tip of your cheek, thumb gently caressing it afterwards. you feel your cheeks heat up. leaning into his touch, you smile a little.

jungkook lifts you hips up, angling his cock with your entrance and you almost— almost forget your plan. immediately, you halt and place your hand on his chest with a shake of your head.

"why? something wrong?"

you nod your head, gently pushing the man back.

"what're you doing?" you shush him up with your index finger pressed against his lips and shaking your head. jungkook raises his eyebrow.

"i wanna ride you."

jungkook just stares at you as if you've just told him the craziest thing ever, eyes wide as well. stop. this is making you feel embarrassed. what if he just laughs at you?

"what, you're gonna ride me now?" jungkook couldn't help but laugh a little, but immediately shutting himself up when he sees the frown on your face. "okay, sorry, sorry."

"yeah, i am." your voice came out almost inaudible. you felt so small in his large presence. with his big eyes boring into yours, you feel put on the spot. like. like everyone's looking at you holding a mic to your mouth expecting you to talk.

the corner of his lip slightly twitches up, then he breaks into a smile. big hands land on your hips and effortlessly drags you closer to him, he then lifts your chin up, thumb swiping over your lower lip. "sure you won't hurt yourself?"

"yes, daddy. not gonna hurt." jungkook chuckles at the nickname, finding it amusing. you both never really used the name daddy, just once or twice. although, you can't deny how the nickname gets you feeling sort of...thrilled? aroused? jungkook could say the same.

"daddy, huh?" he clicks his tongue.

you nod your head with a small hum, raising your body up to sit on your knees. "lie down, please."

jungkook listens to your request with a teasing smirk on his face. hah, you wanted to fuck that smirk off of him soooooo bad. he lies down on the bed with two pillows supporting his back and makes himself comfortable. he raises his eyebrow watching your puzzled expression, trying really hard to read your face. his legs are spread, fat cock rock hard and leaking that precum you love so much. you gulp down the drool that was already pooled up in your mouth, eyes darting between jungkook's eyes and his cock.

"what're you waiting for? come fuck me, girl."

and you do.

gliding yourself over his muscular thighs, you settle yourself on top of him, your thighs on each side of his waist. you avert your gaze down to his massive cock, twitching with pre cum leaking from the tip, impatiently waiting for you. you take a long deep breath before raising your body over his thighs, then angling your pelvis over his cock. wrapping your hand around his base, you teasingly rub the tip on your folds. jungkook tugs on his lower lip as your pussy twitches against his tip, both your juices slightly mixed with eachother. you raise your hips up again and this time, a string of wetness appears connecting your hole and his reddened tip.

"fucking nasty. you're soaking." jungkook couldn't help but reach out to touch your pussy one more time. you groan once his thumb harshly rubs on your clit while his fingers sunk into your pussy for a moment. he pulls them out before you could even enjoy the feeling, ending it with a slap on your clit. "go on. get on this dick."

jungkook was such a slut.

the moment you finally sink yourself in, or try to, both of you let out a soft gasp, taking in how genuinely tight it felt.

"god, kook...mh", your chest heaved up and down as you balanced yourself, still not fully sunk in his dick yet. you move your hand down there to spread your pussy lips a little further apart, then pushing yourself down a little further.

jungkook stayed silent watching you struggle for a few seconds before deciding to step in. "you okay? want help?" his fingers caressed from your waist to hips, trying to soothe you. you whine, frustrated, ugh—

"i can't. can't do this—mh, too big!"

you give up.

jungkook clicks his tongue, clearly disappointed. he shakes his head, disapproving your decision. "come on, baby. 'know you can do this. you're a hardworking girl. it's okay."

"no, no, no, ahh, can't." you shake your head in denial.

"tsk. no. you're gonna do this. slap my thigh if it's too much, m?" a tear escapes your eye as you finally agree to proceeding to pursue your initial goal. jungkook decides to lend a helping hand by rubbing your clit in various patterns slowly to get you wetter and make it easier for you. "better not cum."

"hmm...", you moan out.

with your throbbing clit being rolled in between the tip of the big man's fingers, you sink your hips down his much bigger dick, eyes widening at the newfound sensation.

"SHIT— oh, mm!" his tip hit your g spot, causing your entire body to tremble a little. the action makes jungkook laugh cockily, his lips forming into a mocking pout.

"gonna cum already? my dick only had to get in? you're that needy?" he slaps your cheeks lightly. you give him nothing but a small enticing glare. jungkook groans and taps your hips as a signal for you to get moving.

your knees buried deep into the bed sheets, you steady yourself before guiding your hips up and down slowly. honestly, it hurt. your walls were so mushy and tight, firmly gripping the base of his cock.

"ah, loosen up, angel. if not, you'll make me cum just from that tightness—shiii."

you try to loosen up your pussy hole, relaxing your entire body but ugh, you just can't do it. with a whine, you continue thrusting yourself downwards on his cock. jungkook adjust himself to you fully— your pussy felt soooo full. so fucking stuffed. his tip reached your womb. you didn't even know having him this deep could be possible. it hurt so bad, yet it felt so good. jungkook's hand reaches behind your back to grab the flesh of your ass and mold it into his liking, slapping and pulling on the flesh.

by now you've learnt how to sit on his dick fully inside. and now, you're doing to fuck it.

"h-haaa—" a breathy moan surpasses through as you begin riding his dick, your walls tightly squeezing in his fat base. your moves were slow and careful, careful trying not to hurt yourself too much. it already hurt so bad, no—burnt. your pussy felt as if it was burning, overwhelmed by the size of his dick. you squeeze your eyes shut, suddenly remembering why you've never tried fully taking him in. cause your cunt was too small! and fuck! does it hurt!

still, you try, brushing away the second thoughts. the skin slapping noises grew louder each thrust as you let his cock hit deeper and deeper areas. jungkook was in pure ecstasy. the most attractive woman he's ever seen (he would never never reveal that to you) is riding his dick. he loved every second of it.

his hands cup your tits through the sheer fabric of your skimpy lingerie, thumbing your nipples hard. he could feel your nipples grow harder, he just could. which drove him crazy. jungkook's thumbs swipe on your nipples, swirling the bud around too. the bridge of his nose brush against your collarbone as he leans his face closer to your neck, whispering sweet nothings.

"i fucking love watching you struggle like this." you grip onto his wrist tightly, twisting it around with your nails digging deep into his skin and probably creating scars. thankfully for your wet slick, it progressively got easier for you to slide up and down.

"take this off. mm, now." his fingers toyed with the straps of your skimpy ass top, tugging on the fragile material and pulling on it. you groan, hurriedly taking off the annoying ass top and throwing it away to let it land on wherever.

you breasts were fully bare for him, big and juicy, nipples hard as fuck. you were such an eye candy. he loved—liked everything about you. so fucking hot. he could go insane.

your jaw falls open, shoulder pushed back and chest popped out as you rode his dick. such a pornographc sight. your tits bounced along with each of your jumps. puffy clit rubbing against his pelvis with each thrust of your hips, his dark pubic brushing against your clit, creating some sort of friction as well. fuuuck.

jungkook caresses your hips, fingertips also dancing across your asscheeks, bringing you a relaxing feeling amidst the heavy workout you're putting yourself through. you slam yourself onto his dick, pussy quite literally splitting into two. you've never fucked someone this hard. this is so crazy, you're actually taking him— you gasp, letting yourself feel out his dick fully.

fuckfuckfuck you could feel his dick tightly smuggled inside your chubby cunt, feeling out the tight clasp of your walls as you literally squeezed him shut. shit, you're scared he wouldn't be able to pull out even. you're squeezing him that tightly. you hold onto his broad shoulders, long manicured nails digging into the skin, probably—most probably leaving marks. you inhale in the musky scent he always has once he gets back from work. you loooveeee it.

"please, i—literally—like, fawwkkkk jungkook!" jungkook hisses, hands messily searching for the discarded dirty panties on the side of the bed. he finally finds them and brings them upto his nose to take a long sniff out of it. a looongg nasty sniff. "you're so dirty, daddy."

his eyes drift from the dirty material to yours in a second. he quickly dropped it off and snakes his arms from under your thighs to hoist you up the bed. you squeel in surprise, arms immediately wrapping around his neck for stability. jungkook looks at you from below, big doe eyes glistening at you as you stared back. you giggle a little once you feel his hand slap your asscheek and grab it again.

jungkook leans forward to envelope your lips in a sweet kiss. you sigh in content, kissing him back passionately as your tongues swirled on eachother. you both were eating out eachothers face so good. moving your heads rhythmically in sync while your nails scratched his back real good. you exchanged saliva, head tilting to various sides as you shared a sloppy messy kiss. so fucking hot.

"mmh, put it in...", you try to reach behind your back and grab his dick but jungkook beats you to it, swatting your hand away. he grips his cock, squeezing the red tip with a hiss. "inside me, daddy." his mind feels fuzzy as he slides his dick inside you again. this time, it enters pretty easy, much easier than before. well, since you're well lubricated and all. you both moan in sync, shoulders dramatically falling down as he fills you up again. you hug his muscular body, gliding up and down his dick once again. second time feels much better than last. shiiiit.

"you're so big. i—" you sigh deeply, whole cunt swallowing his fat dick. "hm, it slips in so easily now." you grunt into his neck, trying to adjust yourself. "yeah, cause you're slippery as shit."

"c'mon, sweetheart." he pats your back as you start over, again. you begin riding his dick once more, this time gripping onto the head of the bed and his head. "you know you're doing so good, yeah? never been more proud of you." you could feel the bone of his nose poke your neck as he inhales your sweaty scent in. jungkook presses tiny kisses all over your neck, down to your collarbone. little kisses all over your collarbone. little hickeys forming all over your collarbone ૮꒰ ⊃ ⸝⸝ ⊂ ꒱ྀིა

yeah you know what, maybe you overestimated yourself. fuck does this hurt. did your pussy get smaller or what. you were squeezing him so tight. so fucking tight.

"koo— haaarrd... 'm struggling." you grunt into his neck.

"lemme take over, then."

"wha—no. i'm fucking you." you refuse his offer quite literally right away.

"you're barely holding on. can't even keep my dick inside without moving around. hm?" he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, squeezing your cheeks together mockingly. he treated you as if you were a feeble little being who couldn't even complete the simplest task.

nothing simple about this dick.

he made sure his dick was perfectly tucked inside, ready to absolutely break you apart on it.

your pussy suddenly starts pulsating, clenching around his dick repeatedly. jungkook lets out a gruff moan, palm slapping against your waist.

"stop fucking clenching. you gonna cum, yeah? is that what this is?"

"mmmhm, i don't want to cum." you break into a whine into his shoulder. "'s okay, just let it out on me, yeah?" he sneaks his arm in between you guys and sticks his thumb out on your very swollen clit. you flinch once he starts rubbing your clit, and in no time, you cream his dick.

"fuck, no, i—i don't want to cum yet." you punch his arm and bite his shoulder, agitated that he just had to make you cum. "i wanted to make you cum first. fuck you." "too bad. i barely even moved."

"are you making fun of me?"

"maybe."

you tug on his hair and bite his arm as revenge.

"i haven't cum yet. did you forget?" he pulls on your hair.

"you know that i wanted to ride you." you huff,

"and you did."

"barely." you roll your eyes, snuggling closer into him, face nuzzled into his neck.

"yeah, my bad my dick's too big."

"you're so over the head."

"okay, but we both know i'm right."

"my vagina is burning."

jungkook pinches the top of your ass and flips you over so that you'd be laying on your back. the sudden movement catches you off guard as you yelp in surprise.

"ow! that hurt."

jungkook doesn't respond to you, but slowly, carefully, pulls his dick out of you. he's still rock hard. you're not surprised.

"you said you wanted to make me feel good, yeah?" he caresses the side of your face, moving away each and every hair sticking to your face. gentle kisses all over your face, cheek, nose, eyes—he suddenly stops, the eye contact between you two breaking the moment he looks away. your breath hitch, there's a tingling feeling all over your body, it felt like the tip of a feather gracing over your face.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Mhm.”

Jungkook squeezes the fat of your belly with a soft kiss on top and suddenly—he was so sly with it too—enters his dick inside your cunt again. “AH!”, you yelp out due to the sudden waves of pain and pleasure sent right from your swollen fucking pussy.

“Come on, girl, take it. I know you can—haah.”

He plunges his dick deep in you with a hard thrust and immediately going at it. He didn’t stop. No he did not. Jungkook rutted into your wet cunt like an animal in heat, desperate to hear the high pitch moans coming out of your swollen lips.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, back arched and gasps left your lips repeatedly. It hurt so bad. Your pussy was fucking burning. It hurt so bad that it felt so good. He’s never done this before. He’s never probably been inside you fully. You swore to the heavens above that your cunt was already torn apart. There was no way.

“Jungkook—mmhphhhhhhhhhttttt!!! It hurts so much! Stop, ah, fuck!”

You raise your legs up, slinking them around his toned sweaty fucking torso. Jungkook grabbed a handful of your meaty thighs, using the fat for support to cling onto you more.

“Please! Stopstopstopstop it hurts so much!”

You didn’t actually want him to stop. You would’ve used to the safe word if so, you and him both knew that very well.

Jungkook grunts in annoyance with a slap on your ass to shut you up.

“Shut up and take my fucking dick. You wanted this. Finish what you’ve started. Take my fucking dick like you said you would!”

He was so big.

“You’re a big girl made for taking big fucking cocks like mine, yeah?”

Without a warning, his palms slap against both your asscheeks before hoisting your entire body up into his arms. Jungkook had you on top of his thighs, carrying your entire weight on his arms as he thrusted from below. His thrusts were so harsh and aggressive with the intention of only wrecking your pussy apart. You were bounced on his cock like a ragdoll. He used you for his pleasure, letting his cock mold the insides of your pussy to the perfect shape that'll fit him always.

"I'm not letting this pussy go now. Hah", he rocks your body upwards again, letting you fall onto his. you cling onto his body for dear life, arms wrapped around his neck, breasts bouncing in front of his face. you could feel his balls slap against your ass repeatedly. they were wet, slimey and sticky. he spread the stickyness on his balls everywhere, constantly reminding you of the fact that he was deep inside you now. like, finally.

"da-ddy! i can't believe you're fucking me like t-this."

you close your eyes tight, your nails gripping onto jungkook's scalp as you let out a scream.

"please, oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD! i'm g'na- HAAH!"

jungkook recognizes the familiar high pitched sound you make, hand sneakily rubbing your puffy clit again. and as a cherry on top, he spreads your ass cheeks apart and sneaks his thumb in between to penetrate your neglected tight little hole. he rubs your hole and inserts the tip of his finger in, repeating the process after. You were so tight down there, considering the fact that you were still an ass virgin. He always said he was gonna take your ass sometime, but you always said no. This was your first time. Fuck.

The finger in your ass caught you off guard as you let out a shriek, your asshole immediately tightening at the sensation.

“Jung…hah. My ass—hhnmpht!”

He shushes you up with a kiss and got into work, rubbing your swollen little clit with his right hand and finger your tight asshole with his left hand, all while his cock absolutely ruined you from below.

“Stop! Too much! Too much! Too much!”

You slobber all over his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably as your entire body shiver and crumble against him. You didn’t have to tell Jungkook once, he knew you were just about to cum.

“Cum, baby. Let go. You’ve done amazing.” He fastens his pace on your clit, giving you just enough simulation.

“Ah! I’m g’na pee! FuckfuckfuckfuckSTOP!!”

You let out one more loud cry before aggressively trembly. Your pussy is so used and swollen and your ass hurts so much. Fuck. It didn’t take that long till your pussy starts squirting angrily. Your eyes widen, back arching as you let your pussy take full control of your body.

Jungkook pulls out of you for a brief moment to let you squirt wherever. His hand never left your clit though, continuing to rub at an increased speed. Your pussy convulses aggressively, squirting on everything and everywhere. The sheets behind you were fully drenched with your squirt and so was his dick, that was right under you.

“I’m sorry I’m making a mess all over your bed,” you cry into his shoulder, completely overwhelmed with everything that’s happening.

You’re still squirting. You don’t know if you’re actually squirting or just straight up pissing yourself on him. This was so embarrassing. Your face was so red. This is so humiliating fuckfuckfuck.

“I’m so”—you choke,“—embarrassed. Ahh, I’ve ruined everything.” You cry out, covering your face with your hands. Jungkook understood that this was an intense moment for you. You’ve squirted before, but never this hard. He soothes you by bringing you into his embrace, tracing patterns on your back to help you calm down.

You choke on your tears again. You were crying so much. You’ve never cried this much during sex before. As concerned he was for you, he was starting to admit he liked that sight. He liked it when you were crying out for him.

You let out the last bit of squirt on his cock, drenching him fully. Jungkook’s cock twitches, it’s angry head starting to let out spurts of cum.

Fuck, he couldn’t believe it. He was cumming. He was cumming so hard from just watching you orgasm. He was getting off to your orgasm.

“Fuck. Shit. Oh my god”, Jungkook groans. He throws his head backwards, letting his cum spurt out as you squeezed his balls. There was a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as his face changed into various expressions as he emptied his balls into your mouth.

You made sure to put your mouth on it and let his cum fall right onto your tongue, just how he liked it. And you also made sure to swallow it all, just how he liked it.

You were still getting off of your high as well, body still crumbled against his.

“It’s okay, babygirl”, Jungkook coos into your ear and soothingly rubs your pussy slowly with your palm till you calm down.

“It stings”, you whine.

“Hmm, I know, baby. Take a deep breath.”

You obey him, taking a deep breath as he wiped off your tears. You sniffle. Your pussy was still throbbing and hole gaping. Fuck. You’re gonna stay stretched like this for a while. He ripped you apart.

“My gorgeous girl. You did so well.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “I can’t believe I fucking came to you squirting”, he chuckles.

“I wanted you to cum in my pussy.” You whine, spreading your pussy lips apart once again.

“I know. But this is more than enough. You know I get off to your orgasms.” He swats your hand away.

“Let her rest.” Jungkook leans down to press a kiss to your swollen worn out pussy.

You cry out, scooting closer to him.

Jungkook then picked you up, took you to the bathroom, made you pee, and brought you back to bed after changing the sheets.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

What?

[sturniqlo]

COMFORT- SHY!MATT x SHY!READER

summary- matt loves how comfortable darling is around him, it turns him on at certain times (matt being a whole different person in bed.. yum)

cw: SMUT; dom(ish)!matt, p in v, making out, nipple play, oral!f receiving, creampie, FLUFF

an: thank you to this anon (also, this is my first ever shy!matt x darling smut fic, p.s i know the pajama bottoms are actually shorts but pretend they're underwear)

masterlist | shy!matt x shy!reader | join my taglist

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it was that point in their relationship where darling was getting very comfortable around matt-and vice versa-, not that she wasn't ever comfortable around him, just comfortable in a different light. she started doing things around him that she would only do when she was alone. one of those things is walk around in her underwear or bra.

"i'm gonna shower really quick." she said with her clothes and towel in hand. "okay, i'll be here." matt smiles as he sits against her headboard her fluffy blanket over his lap. matt being matt, puckers his lips signaling he wants a kiss. darling doesn't think anything of it, in all honestly she loves when he does that, it's because normal for them.

she even catches herself doing it sometimes. "mwah!" she intentionally says as she plants a kiss onto his lips, she can still taste the faint sherbet ice cream they shared. "don't take long, i'll miss you." he teases, squeezing her hip gently. "i'll try not to." she pecks his lips this time before making her way to the bathroom out in the hall.

as matt waited for her, scrolling through her streaming services on her tv, he got up and went down to the kitchen to get a snack. darling's parents were currently out on a camping trip since it was their anniversary weekend. with their permission, matt was able to come and stay over. they trusted matt and darling as they were once young and in love.

he opened the fridge grabbing two cold water bottles as he noticed her water bottle was almost empty. placing both of them on the island counter, matt opened the pantry and scanned the shelves. he saw the half eaten tray of her dad's strawberry danish and held back from grabbing a piece. her dad was serious about his danishes.

opting for some chips and a bit of chocolate chip cookies, he made his way back upstairs into her bedroom. as matt passed the bathroom, he heard the running water and her slight humming to the song she played on low volume.

matt returned back to the room and dug into the snacks he had brought up. still continuing to scroll through the streaming services, he didn't choose anything because he wanted to wait for darling and see what she would want to watch.

he looked around her room noticing small details that she had added. a new sonny angel hipper was added to the back of her flatscreen tv, the calendar matt had gifted her with pictures of them was hung up on her closet door, and a new pair of shoes was added to her shoe rack. he noticed every little detail.

it was about fifteen minutes later when darling walked through the door, her hair up in her designated hair towel. when matt realized what she was wearing, his breath hitched. she wore a white teddy bear tank paired with matching teddy bear boxer like underwear.

she had just started doing this around matt, walking around in her underwear. he cleared his throat as he caught himself watching her as she went into her closet to put her dirty clothes into her hamper. "find something to watch?" she said in a soft tone as she sat in her vanity across the room, watching him through the mirror as she combed her hair. "huh- oh- uh, no. i was uh- i was waiting for you. see what you wanted to watch."

she didn't realize his now worked up state. "you can put modern family back on." darling did her skincare, and lathered herself in her sweet scented lotion that drove matt crazy. he went to hulu to put the show, but he kept glancing back at darling who stood up to lather her legs.

the ends of her underwear rode up slightly and exposed the bottom of her ass cheeks. "shit." he muttered under his breath, shifting in the bed putting the blanket back over his lap. darling came closer to the bed and smiled at matt. "i feel so clean." she giggled, sitting on top of the blanket. "baby, are you not hot?" her dad had cranked up the heater before he left and it was really warm in the house.

"no- no, not really." he nervously chuckled, her scent engulfed his sense of smell. he looked down to play with his fingers, but caught eye of her plump thighs. "well i am. it's like ninety degrees in here." she fanned her tank top. matt stared at her and noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra either.

they were a couple of episodes in and darling ended up laying on her belly towards the end of the bed, which was the worst decision in matt's eyes. the curve of her ass was taunting him. the way it jiggled when she laughed or made a slight movement to get comfy, and the way her underwear rode up more.

darling didn't do it intentionally, in all honesty the thought of matt being worked up didn't cross her mind. she soon sat up and scooted to matt. "i'm bored." she told him, kneeling next to him running a hand through his hair. "what do you wanna do?" he said, his eyes raking up to her eyes and down to her lips.

"are you sure you're okay? you look pretty flustered." she furrows her eyebrows. "baby-" she gasped. "are you.. hard?" he groaned. "darling.. you're- you just look so good." she blushed at his words. "why didn't you tell me? i could've helped you all this time." she moved the blanket off of him and straddled his lap. matt was never one to just ask for sex- he was too shy to do so, he would give her little touches here and there or just stare at her.

"you know why." his hands came to rest on the silver of her skin where her tank top rode up. her hips slowly rolled against his. "baby." his threw his head slightly back. darling took the opportunity to kiss against his neck. matt got hold of her chin and connected their lips in a hungry kiss. "such a tease, hm? wearing your tiny panties around me." his finger dipped into the waistband of her underwear and let it slap against her skin. "mmph!" she whined against his lips.

"can i?" he pulled away from her, their lips red and swollen, his hands slipped under her tank top, looking up at her with pleading eyes. "please- yes." she nodded- she was now as equally as needy as him. matt wasted no time in taking her shirt off. her full, round tits on display for him. "so pretty, darling. so fucking pretty." he growled, taking her right tit into his mouth. his wet, pink tongue swirled around her nipple as he stared up at her, her eyes closed in pleasure.

"matt, oh- shit." her back arched, furthering herself more into matt. "love your tits, babe." he popped off of her nipple, moving onto the left one as his hand came up to knead the one he had in his mouth before.

after some time, he began to trail kisses around her chest up to her collarbone, up her neck eventually making it back to her lips. "lay on the bed f'me. c'mon." he patted the side of her thigh. darling came off of his thigh and laid next to him. matt hovered over her, pressing a few kisses to her neck. his kisses trailed down her body until he reached the hem of her underwear. "matt- please." she looked down at him.

"patience, darling." matt continued to press teasing kisses along her underwear. a wet patch began to form on her panties. "wet already?" he smirked, his finger prodding at the patch. "mhm- so wet for you." she rolled her hips wanting more. after pressing a kiss to her wetness, he hooked his fingers into the fabric and pulled them down. "lift up f'me." she lifted her hips so he'd be able to pull them down her legs.

he tossed the underwater somewhere on the bed, putting her legs over his shoulders. "look at that. pussys so pretty." matt was face to face with her glistening folds that we're aching to be touched. darling shivered when his breath fanned against her wetness.

pressing kisses along her inner thighs, so very close to her core, matt licked and nipped until she was a squirming wanted to be licked where she needed it most. "please, stop- stop teasing." she whined, gripped his hair to try and guide him to her pussy. "am i being mean, hm?" his tongue made very small contact, but quickly pulled away.

matt thought he had teased enough and dipped his tongue into her hole, licking a stripe up to her clit. "oh- yes!" she smiled at the feeling of his warm tongue on her. "so good, darling. taste so good." he lapped up her arousal. sucking on her lips, her back arched at the sensation- the suction around her lips and the vibrations of his muffled moans.

"just like that- fuck!" her hands fisted at the bed sheets as she didn't want to hurt matt's scalp. darlings moans and pants filled the room, her constant whines when matt would pull away for a split second. matt's hands trailed up her body as she continued to eat her out. his fingertips found her tits and he rolled her nipples in between his thumb and forefinger.

he soon pulled away due to the ache in his pants becoming too much. "baby, please let me- let me fuck you." he mumbled as he kissed up her body. he sucked a few marks onto her neck. darlings hands creeped into his hair. "mhm, yes. i want you in me." she whispered into his ear, his hips rolled against her. "yeah?" he bit down on her neck. "so bad, please." she held the sides of his face and stared at him. matt broke into a smug smile, leaning down to press their lips together.

as their lips and tongue clashed together, matt pulled down both his pants and underwear throwing them somewhere. he stroked his hard cock a couple of times, pulling away from the kiss. darling looked down to where his cock was and saw the red leaking tip, her pussy clenched around nothing. "ready f'me?" he said, slapping his dick against her clit. "yes, i'm ready." she nodded, biting her bottom lip.

matt lined his tip up with her wet hole and slowly pushed into her. darling moaned feeling the familiar stretch of matt's cock. "so tight." matt's jaw slacked at her warm walls squeezing him. once he bottomed out, he waited a few moments until she was ready for him to move.

"you can- you can move." she nodded, grabbing onto his shoulders. matt pushed out before thrusting back in making them both moan at the same time. "yes, just like that. faster, baby." darling whined. he accepted her wishes and picked up the speed.

the wet noises, along with their moans, now filled the air in her room. the occasional bang of the headboard against the wall was covered by the lewd noises. "feel you squeezing my cock, darling." he kissed just below her ear. "it's so good, matt. don't stop." her moans continued.

minutes later, matt pulled out causing her to whimper at the loss of contact. "matt- what- what are you doing." her glossy eyes looked up at him. "shh, it's okay, pretty." he pressed a kiss to her lips. "want you to flip over f'me. hands and knees, yeah?" matt knew that her being on all fours made it feel better and deeper for her. she nodded, her damp hair from her shower and the slight sweat made the baby hairs stick along her hairline.

matt got on his knees to give her space to flip over. once she was situated, matt got behind her and caressed the soft and plump skin of her ass. his hand grabbed his dick and ran it up and down her puffy, wet folds. "oh- matt." she arched her back as he circled his tip against her hole. matt didn't ram himself in, but he certainly didn't hold back. her high pitched moans and whimpers began again. only this time they were louder due to the new position and angle.

"f-fuck, you're so deep." she mumbled against the bed sheets. her once hands and knees position turned into her being face down ass up. "yeah? feel me so deep inside of your tummy, babe." his hands came to the side of her ass, holding her as he went in and out of her. "so fucking deep." she repeated.

darling felt the familiar pressure building up in her lower belly, so she began backing her ass into him. matt groaned when he realized what she was doing. "you close, hm?" he groaned, his right hand on her ass and the other on the back of her neck. "yes- yes, so close. don't stop." she cried, wanting her release.

"cum for me. cum all over my dick." matt began to do long, deep strokes. "shit- just like that." the movement in his thrusts brought her more to the edge. her fingers curled into the pillow as she mewled. "i'm- fuck, i'm cumming!" her legs trembled as she released. "that's it, baby. all over my dick, mhm." he thrusted a couple of more times before he felt the familiar sensation.

"babe- i'm close." he gently brought her up to where her back was pressed up against his chest. "cum in me. want all of it, plea- please." she cried, her hand coming behind his head as he nipped at her neck. "oh- shit." his cock twitched inside of her as he came. matt kept messily thrusting against her as he rode his high.

once she started to whine, he stopped as he knew that she had become sensitive. "it's okay, i've got you." he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. slowly and carefully he laid her back down, still staying inside of her. "is it okay if i pull out? need to clean you up." she nodded. slowly, he pulled out watching as his cum leaked out of her. matt held back a groan at the sight.

"i'll be back, gonna get some tissue."

when matt finished cleaning her up, they showered together. "baby, c'mere. wanna braid your hair." matt patted his lap. "really? think you got it?" she teased. "i definitely improved since last time." darling sat in between his legs as he worked with her hair. "so it's right over left- no, no. right over left." he muttered to himself.

although he had to restart a couple of times, he finally finished it. matt took a picture and showed her. "alright, what do you think of my masterpiece?" he handed her his phone and wrapped his arms around her waist bringing her into his chest. "it's definitely something, i'll tell you that." she giggled. some parts were pretty loose and in some her hair was sticking out. "hey, i thought i did pretty good." he pouted, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"just gotta keep on practicing." she turned around and booped his nose.

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Monaco Experience | LN4

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando, newly in a relationship, and Lando finally invites Y/N to Monaco to stay at his apartment.

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ word count ━━━━━━━ 2.9k

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The first thing Y/n noticed as she stirred awake was the warmth. There was a steady, comforting heat radiating against her back, and something heavy draped over her waist. It took her foggy brain a moment to piece together where she was—and who she was with. Her eyes fluttered open, squinting against the soft morning light filtering through the blinds. She shifted slightly, only to feel the arm around her tighten ever so slightly, pulling her closer.

Lando.

Her heart skipped a beat as the memories of last night came flooding back. The teasing, the flirtation, the way his lips had brushed against her hair before they both drifted off. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep in his arms, but now that she was here, she couldn’t bring herself to move. His chest rose and fell steadily behind her, his breath warm against the back of her neck. She could feel every inch of him pressed against her, his body fitting perfectly against hers like they were made to be this close.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress the smile tugging at her mouth. This is dangerous, she thought. Dangerous because she could get used to this far too easily. Dangerous because it felt so right, even though she’d spent so long convincing herself it wasn’t.

Carefully, she turned her head just enough to glance over her shoulder. Lando was still asleep, his face relaxed, his dark lashes fanning out against his cheeks. He looked softer like this, younger, without the usual smirk or playful glint in his eyes. She studied the curve of his jaw, the faint stubble shadowing his skin, and felt a strange ache in her chest. How does he manage to look this good even when he’s sleeping?

As if sensing her gaze, Lando stirred, his arm tightening around her again as he let out a low, sleepy murmur. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.

Y/n froze for a moment, then quickly turned her face back to the pillow, hoping he wouldn’t notice how closely she’d been watching him. “Morning,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

There was a pause, and then she felt him shift behind her, his hand sliding up her side until it rested just below her ribs. His palm was warm against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. “Sleep well?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was something else there—something deeper, more intimate.

She nodded, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “Yeah. You?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in ages,” he admitted, his lips brushing against the back of her neck as he spoke. She sucked in a sharp breath, her heart pounding in her chest. Was he doing that on purpose? Or was it just an accident?

Either way, it was driving her crazy.

“You know,” she started, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to keep it steady, “you don’t have to stay. If you need to go… or whatever.”

Lando chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through her body. “Are you trying to kick me out already?”

“No!” she said quickly, then winced at how desperate she sounded. “I just mean… I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything. I know you’re busy, and—”

“Y/n,” he interrupted gently, his hand moving to her hip and turning her to face him. She blinked up at him, her breath catching as their eyes met. His gaze was soft, almost tender, and it made her stomach flip. “I’m exactly where I want to be. Trust me.”

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. Trust him. That was the problem, wasn’t it? She wanted to trust him, more than anything, but letting someone in—letting herself be vulnerable—was terrifying. And yet, lying here in his arms, feeling the way he looked at her… it was getting harder and harder to keep those walls up.

“Okay,” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible.

He smiled, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Good.” He leaned in slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Instead, she found herself tilting her head up, her lips parting slightly in anticipation.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant, as if they were both testing the waters. But then his hand slid into her hair, holding her gently as he deepened the kiss, and any thoughts of hesitation evaporated. She melted into him, her hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. It was intoxicating, the way he kissed her—like she was the only thing that mattered.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting together. “Wow,” she breathed, her voice shaky.

Lando grinned, his nose brushing against hers. “Wow indeed.”

She laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep inside her. “You’re such a dork.”

“Hey, I’m your dork,” he shot back, his tone teasing, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made her heart skip another beat.

“Is that so?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

He nodded, his expression softening. “If you’ll have me.”

For a moment, she just stared at him, searching his face for any sign that he might be joking. But all she saw was sincerity—and something else, something that made her chest ache in the best possible way. Slowly, she reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I think I could live with that,” she said quietly.

His smile widened, and then he was kissing her again, his hands roaming over her body as if he couldn’t get enough of her. She responded eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. It was overwhelming, the way he made her feel—like she was falling and flying all at once.

Eventually, they broke apart, both of them panting, their foreheads resting together once more. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Lando murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

She felt her face flush, her heart swelling at his words. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood before it got too serious.

He chuckled, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Good to know,” she replied, grinning up at him.

But before either of them could say anything else, his phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand, shattering the peaceful moment. Lando groaned, reluctantly pulling away to grab it. “Sorry,” he muttered, glancing at the screen. “It’s work. I have to take this.”

She nodded, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment in her chest. “Of course. Go ahead.”

He gave her an apologetic smile before answering the call, his voice dropping into a more professional tone. Y/n took the opportunity to slip out of bed, grabbing one of his discarded shirts from the floor and pulling it on. It hung loosely on her frame, the fabric still carrying his scent, and she couldn’t help but smile as she padded toward the kitchen.

As she started making coffee, she couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hands had felt on her skin, the way his lips had tasted. What are you doing, Y/n? she scolded herself silently. You’re supposed to be keeping your distance.

But deep down, she knew it was too late for that. She was already in too deep, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Lando appeared a few minutes later, his phone tucked back into his pocket. “Sorry about that,” he said, leaning against the counter as he watched her pour two cups of coffee. “Duty calls.”

She handed him a mug, their fingers brushing briefly as he took it. “No worries. I get it.”

He sipped his coffee, his eyes never leaving hers. “So… what now?”

She hesitated, her grip tightening on her own mug. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He set his cup down and stepped closer, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “Where do we go from here?”

Her breath caught, her mind racing as she tried to come up with an answer. But before she could respond, he was kissing her again, slow and sweet, and all rational thought went out the window.

When they finally pulled apart, she looked up at him, her heart pounding. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “But… I want to figure it out. With you.”

His smile was brighter than the morning sun streaming through her windows. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

--

Lando’s fingers traced lazily along the rim of his coffee cup, his eyes never leaving Y/n’s as they sat across from each other in her cozy London flat. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on her face, and he couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly beautiful she looked, even with her hair slightly tousled from sleep.

“So,” he began, his voice casual but laced with something more—something that made her stomach flutter. “I’ve been thinking… you’ve never been to Monaco, have you?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smirk. “Are you asking me to come visit you, Lando?”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his confidence radiating through every movement. “Maybe. What if I told you I wanted to show you around? Give you the full Monaco experience. You know, the beaches, the yachts, the glamour…” He paused, his grin turning mischievous. “And, of course, me.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

“But you like it,” he countered, his tone dropping slightly, that teasing edge softening into something warmer, more sincere.

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her coffee, trying to hide the way his words made her heart race. “I don’t know… I mean, it’s a big trip. And we’ve only just—” She hesitated, gesturing vaguely between them. “This is still so new.”

Lando reached across the table, his hand covering hers, his touch firm yet gentle. “New doesn’t mean it’s not worth exploring. Come on, Y/n. Let me show you my world. Just for a weekend. What do you say?”

There was something about the way he said it—the earnestness in his voice, the way his thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles—that melted her reservations. She bit her lip, looking up at him, and found herself nodding before she could overthink it.

“Okay,” she said softly. “A weekend in Monaco.”

His face lit up, and he squeezed her hand. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”

---

Three days later, Y/n stepped off the plane onto the tarmac of Nice Côte d’Azur Airport, squinting against the bright Mediterranean sun. She hadn’t even made it to baggage claim when she saw him, leaning casually against a sleek black car, sunglasses perched on his nose, looking every bit the F1 driver he was.

“Took you long enough,” he teased as she approached, pulling her into a tight hug. His scent—clean and masculine, with a hint of cologne—flooded her senses, and she felt a rush of warmth spread through her chest.

“Traffic on the M25,” she quipped, pulling back to look at him. “You wouldn’t believe how bad it gets.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” He took her suitcase from her, loading it into the trunk before opening the passenger door with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips as she slid into the seat. The car smelled like him, and the leather was cool against her skin. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. This was Monaco. And she was spending it with him.

The drive along the coast was breathtaking, the sea glistening under the afternoon sun. They chatted easily, the conversation flowing as naturally as it always did between them. But there was something different this time—a tension that simmered beneath the surface, unspoken yet palpable.

When they finally pulled up to his apartment building, Y/n couldn’t help but gasp. It was everything she imagined—modern, luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering stunning views of the harbor.

“Welcome to Casa de Norris,” he said with a grin, grabbing her suitcase and leading her inside.

---

That evening, after a leisurely dinner at a seaside restaurant, they returned to his apartment. The city lights twinkled outside, and the air was warm, carrying the faint scent of salt and flowers. Lando poured them each a glass of wine, and they settled on the couch, the soft hum of music playing in the background.

Y/n sipped her wine, feeling the alcohol warming her veins. She glanced over at Lando, who was watching her with that same intense gaze that always seemed to see straight through her.

“What?” she asked, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.

He shook his head slowly, setting his glass down. “Nothing. I just… I like seeing you like this. Relaxed. Happy.”

Her cheeks heated, and she looked down at her wine glass. “It’s hard not to be happy here. It’s… magical.”

“It’s not the place,” he said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “It’s you.”

Her breath caught, and she looked up at him, her heart pounding. There was something in his eyes—something serious, vulnerable—that made her stomach flip.

“Lando…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Tell me what you want, Y/n,” he murmured, his hand cupping her cheek. “Right now. Tell me.”

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. But then, in that moment, all she could think about was how much she wanted him—how much she’d always wanted him.

“You,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I want you.”

His eyes darkened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, filled with pent-up longing. She melted into him, her hands curling into the fabric of his shirt as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that left her dizzy.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathing heavily, she looked up at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

She nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. “Yes.”

Without another word, he stood, pulling her to her feet and leading her toward the bedroom. The room was bathed in soft light, the bed impossibly large and inviting. He turned to her, his hands coming to rest on her waist as he kissed her again, tasting of wine and need.

Slowly, deliberately, he undressed her, his movements careful, reverent, as though she were something precious. When he pulled back to look at her, his gaze dark and hungry, she felt a shiver run down her spine.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip. “So fucking beautiful.”

She reached for him then, her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt until it fell open, revealing the toned planes of his chest. Her fingers splayed over his skin, and he groaned, low and deep, pressing her back onto the bed.

As he kissed his way down her body, his lips trailing fire, she arched into him, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Every touch, every caress, was electric, lighting her up from the inside out. His lips were everywhere, leaving a trail of fire across her skin. He started at her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear, eliciting a soft moan from her. His hands roamed over her body, cupping her breasts as his mouth moved lower, teasing her nipples with his tongue until she was arching into him, desperate for more.

“Lando,” she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued to worship her body with his mouth. He didn’t stop, his kisses growing hungrier as he moved down her stomach, his hands gripping her hips to keep her still. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, his breath hot against her most sensitive skin.

“You taste so good,” he murmured before his tongue flicked out, teasing her clit in slow, deliberate strokes. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as he worked her with his mouth, his fingers slipping inside her to match the rhythm of his tongue. The pleasure built quickly, coiling tight in her belly, and she was on the edge, so close to shattering—

But then he stopped, pulling away just as she was about to fall over the edge. She whimpered, her body trembling with need, but he didn’t give her time to protest. In one swift motion, he positioned himself between her legs, his cock pressing against her entrance.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. Her eyes met his, dark and intense, as he thrust into her in one smooth motion, filling her completely. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, each stroke driving her closer to the edge again.

He kissed her deeply, swallowing her moans as their bodies moved together, the tension building until it was unbearable. And when she finally came, her body convulsing around him, he followed her over the edge, his release spilling deep inside her. They clung to each other, their breaths mingling, as the world outside faded away.

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag XVI

JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, mentions of violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, blood, semi public sex,  jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

⭑

“Am I a joke to you? Huh?”

Despite how unserious Rafe’s words were, his attitude and tone were anything but. The past few months had been…okay—as okay as they could be considering the circumstances, you supposed—and while the look on Rafe’s face was far from unfamiliar, it was also a look you hadn’t seen in a while. Most notably the night of his birthday.

The memory of his hand around your throat was fresh, his voice in your ear as he threatened to kill you if you ever tried to leave him again. The violent memory immediately had you on edge, and you absentmindedly touched your neck, worriedly eyeing Rafe just as he strode over to you.

“You think I didn’t see that bullshit at The Wreck?”

His hand was digging into your arm, and you flinched at the painful grip, eyeing him in a mixture of confusion and fear. Rafe’s blue eyes were cold as he stared you down, a sneer on his lips as he leaned in.

“All it takes is a smile and you’re batting those lashes-.”

“...what are you talking about?” you finally spoke, noticing too late that you were knee deep in another fight without even realizing it.

“I’m talking about JJ, that’s what the fuck I’m talking about,” Rafr spat at you, fingers pressing into your skin even harder.

It took you too long to realize just who he was talking about, and when you did, your lips parted in disbelief. You thought to yourself that Rafe couldn’t be serious, there was just no way, but as you looked between his eyes, you slowly—and fearfully—realized that he was indeed very serious.

The food that you'd brought back from The Wreck was sitting on the counter, and you recalled the blond teenager who’d given it to you with a friendly smile, and you recalled that you’d smiled back. Not only was it just the polite thing to do, but it was second nature to you—harmless. Yet, here Rafe was treating it like the highest form of infidelity there was.

“Rafe…be serious.”

You were so in disbelief that you didn’t quite register the danger of the words you were whispering. You were that much in shock—that thrown—that Rafe was starting something over something as simple and harmless as a smile to the guy behind the counter. Your response only made him angrier, and you swore you felt your bones straining under his hold.

“Do I seem anything but serious, right now?”

You couldn’t hold in your pained gasp as your knees buckled, your free hand reaching up to try and make him let go.

“Do you even consider me and my feelings when you pull this shit? Huh?”

His nose brushed against your cheek as you fought to stand, pulling at his hand with tears in your eyes.

“If it’s not you ‘falling’ into Topper’s lap then it’s you trying to break up with me—and on my birthday, no less! Now you just expect me to stand by and watch you make googly eyes at any guy who looks your way? You be serious,” he bit out, shoving you so hard that your back hit the nearest wall.

Your arm was throbbing, now, the blood rushing back to where Rafe’s hand had just been. Your heart was going crazy in your chest, and when you looked up, you did so just in time to see the expensive vase coming your way. The scream that escaped your lips hurt your throat, and you slid to the floor just as the sound of breaking glass reached your ears. The shards went everywhere, and you briefly noted the faint sting on your feet.

You felt paralyzed as you looked up at Rafe.

“Is this…is this another attempt to leave me? Hmm?” he wondered, fingers grazing his chest as he frowned at you. “You think if you piss me off enough, I’ll just wash my hands of you? Is that it?”

You couldn’t stop shaking, and your voice caught in your throat, your brain unable to comprehend how you wound up in this position. Your silence seemed to only make him angrier, and when he took a step towards you, you were finally able to spring to your feet, completely unsure of what he was about to do next.

“Huh? Is that what you’re trying to pull?”

You frantically shook your head.

“N-no. Rafe, no, I don’t-”

“No?” he asked, almost incredulously. 

A bitter chuckle left his lips, and Rafe shook his head, blowing out a breath as he kept his eyes on you.

“You sure could’ve fooled me.”

You looked around, chest heaving as you ran different scenarios over in your mind. You went back and forth between trying to talk him down and just making a run for it. The last time Rafe had been this angry, he’d almost choked you to death while verbally promising to do just that if you ever drove him to it. Your perusal did not go unnoticed, and Rafe was suddenly moving closer. 

“Wh-where do you think you’re going?” he mockingly asked, holding your gaze, now. “You think we’re done?”

“Rafe…” you pleaded, holding your hands out.

“You think I’m done with you? You think-.”

Rafe cut himself off, reaching for you and cursing when you slipped from his grasp. His hand caught onto your shirt, twisting it, and you stumbled back when he yanked you closer. His other hand circled around your throat, and anything that you were going to say or do was immediately cut short by the feel of metal against your lips.

The scream that caught in your throat was accompanied by the feel of tears kissing your eyes, and your hands immediately wrapped around your boyfriend’s wrist. Rafe’s own eyes were glazed as he stared at you, and a sob bubbled within your chest.

“This is the only way you’re ever going to leave me. Do you understand?”

You were barely listening to a word he said, tears spilling over as you stumbled back with every step he took. The gun had been an 18th birthday gift from Ward, something you’d seen once or twice since you and Rafe started dating. You hadn’t ever given it much thought. After all, you were in North Carolina, and it was the kind of place where kids learned to shoot from the age of twelve.

You hadn’t thought about it when he’d slapped you and not even when he’d threatened your life. Yet here you were…faced with the real possibility that Rafe would use it to kill you. Your tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and your gaze was terrified and pleading. You didn’t even think you were pleading to Rafe—you were just pleading for something. A knock at the door, a car in the yard, the ring of his phone. You were pleading for anything to happen to stop this because in this moment…you weren’t so sure that Rafe would stop on his own.

The blond tilted his head at you, the light glinting off of his blue gaze.

“Hmm?”

You gave a shaky nod, your nails digging into his wrist, and Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time. His hand was on the gun and your hand was on him and neither one of you were moving. The moment he finally pulled his hand back, you were shoving your hand against his face. Your sudden fight took him by surprise, and you didn’t spare him another glance as you bolted for the stairs.

You flinched when your name echoed off of the walls, Rafe’s footsteps in time with yours. Your tearful gaze made it hard to see, and your shoulder knocked into the corner of the wall as you stumbled straight towards the bathroom. Rafe’s voice was loud and angry as he yelled for you, and you didn’t hesitate to slam the bathroom door shut behind you, locking it just moments before Rafe’s hand met the knob.

Your uneven breathing was all you could hear as you fumbled around in your pocket for your phone, and your lashes fluttered from the feel of the door hitting your back from every kick Rafe dealt to it. You felt so disconnected from yourself as you dialed 911, the severity of Rafe’s actions fully washing over you. You couldn’t stop crying as a voice greeted you from the other line, mentally telling yourself that you couldn’t do this anymore.

You had to get out. 

You had to.

You couldn’t live like this, you wouldn’t survive it, and as terrifying as it would be to tell the world just who Rafe Cameron really was, the thought of enduring this forever was even scarier. 

“What’ya thinking about?”

Rafe’s lips brushed against your temple as he whispered the question, and you only shook your head before turning to look up at him with a small smile. 

“Nothing…”

Topper and Kelce were playing poker in the living room, Rafe long abandoning the game to snuggle beside you instead. Today was a good day, but then again, the past few weeks had been full of good days. The disastrous night that was Midsummers was weeks ago, and the morning after—when you’d been applying makeup to your discolored cheek—you had the realization that even if some small part of you had hope that you could get out of this relationship one day, you needed to survive to actually see that happen.

Sneaking around with JJ had brought just as much harm as it did good.

Sure, you were seeing someone who actually cared about you and who didn’t absolutely terrify you. You were reminded of what it was like to be touched by someone without flinching, but on the flip side…you were reminded of what it was like to be touched by someone without flinching. 

Your relationship with JJ—if you could even call it that—also served to put into perspective just how bad things had become with Rafe. There was a time when you’d gotten so used to the abuse, so accustomed to the way he talked to you and held you and treated you. The constant reminder of how much better things could be made you act out in ways that you hadn’t in a long time. 

Your behavior as of late had given Rafe the perfect excuse to show you just how awful he could really be.

Things were good when you were good, and being good entailed acting as the perfect girlfriend that Rafe wanted. Smiling when he looked at you, standing beside him and looking pretty when he was with his friends, placating him no matter how much in the wrong he was, and eagerly opening your legs for him whenever he wanted. After all, deep down, that’s what it was really about.

Rafe just wanted someone to always be in his corner and to be ever loyal to him.

It didn’t matter that he had to force it.

All Rafe wanted was for someone to kiss him on the cheek at the end of the day and choose him. You would find it sad if said behavior wasn’t actively ruining your life. Playing such a role had long driven you into depression, but it wasn’t so bad, now when you had something else to look forward to. As much as it pained you, you slipped back into that role of the agreeable and enabling girlfriend, content with the temporary relief from it that JJ brought to you.

“You’re always thinking about something,” Rafe murmured, a humorous lilt in his voice that didn’t fool you.

You knew that if Rafe could wish for anything, it would be to see inside of your head. The fact that he could control every aspect of your life except your thoughts was something that bothered him greatly. That was one thing he’d never have access to, and it absolutely ate him up inside.

He was right though.

As you looked at him, you were reminded of his face staring back at you from inside of that cop car. It seemed like so long ago—a lifetime—but nothing had hardly changed. You’d been so sure that day that things would be different. You’d been so scared, so tired, so…defeated. You remembered how determined you were to put a stop to this and start moving on from Rafe Cameron once and for all…but then Ward had gotten into your head and scared you even more with the reality of what would happen.

You wondered if Rafe thought about that day too, if he thought about how if it weren’t for Ward, then things would be very different right now. Rafe had a lot to thank Ward for, you supposed, but you didn’t say any of that. You didn’t dare.

“Just thinking that I’m going to miss you,” you quietly told him.

Ward was going away for the weekend to deal with some business, and Rafe was going with him. The trips had become more frequent over the past year, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before Rafe was fully brought into the family business…and once that was done, it wouldn’t be long before Rafe decided it was time to tie you to him forever. Rafe wanted to have it all, you’d always known that, and once his place by Ward was official, he would start checking things off the list one by one.

Rafe hummed at your response, reaching up and gently taking your chin between his fingers.

“You have been so good lately,” he murmured, leaning in. “I think you really will miss me.”

He pressed his lips to yours, and you kissed him back, closing your eyes and eagerly moving your mouth against his like you used to before JJ. While it was still second nature to you, you had never had to give it so much thought before. Behaving like Rafe’s dream girl was just something you did, something ingrained in you, but lately you had to remind yourself that you wanted things to be easy—smooth sailing. 

It didn’t hurt to remember that Rafe noticed the way JJ acted about you these days. Rafe thinking that JJ harbored a crush on you was one thing, but if he even suspected the opposite then you were as good as dead. He thought it was funny, something to laugh about—the thought of JJ Maybank thinking he had a chance with his girlfriend—but the thought that you might be soft on the other blond wasn’t as amusing. 

You recalled the way he looked at you as he threatened you that night, driving it into your head that he didn’t want you ever defending ‘that Pogue’ again. It didn’t matter how many times you told him you were just trying to be nice and mature, he didn’t want to hear it. You hadn’t missed the glint in his eyes, and it was then that you told yourself you needed to get it together. 

JJ Maynank was messing with your head, rubbing off on you, and sometimes that was good, but there were also times where it wasn’t. He was so headstrong, so impulsive, and while you liked that about him, he was always going to be on the receiving end of Rafe’s wrath if he kept it up, and that was what you told him later that night after Rafe had dropped you off at home with a gentle kiss.

The younger blond huffed, and you watched him run his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, I know,” he reluctantly agreed. “I just don’t think you understand how angry he makes me. Downright murderous if we’re being honest.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, hating when JJ talked like that, but you knew that it was all talk. Rafe was home and packing to leave with his father in the morning, and JJ was sitting on the edge of your bed, reaching for you and pulling you closer by your waist. Moments like this made the farce with Rafe worth it, and you placed your hand on the other man’s shoulders.

“You’re used to this, used to him,” he sadly pointed out, gaze soft as he looked up at you. “I’m not, and I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

Your shoulders sagged at that, silently agreeing with him. It did seem a little unfair to expect JJ to fall in line so quickly with something that had taken you years to perfect. The two of you had only been seeing each other for some months.

“You’re right…but do you get how it makes me feel to see him just tear into you because you can’t keep your mouth shut?”

JJ’s lips quirked up at that, and you lightly hit his shoulder.

“It’s not funny,” you told him, letting out a light chuckle anyway. “Unlike you, I’m good at this. He’ll never suspect me, but he has no problem with punching you in the face for just looking at me too long, and I know how much you love fighting Rafe, but it gives me a mini heart attack every time.”

The blond didn’t respond right away at that, and he eventually sighed before leaning in to press his lips to your stomach. When he tilted his head back, he looked up at you from beneath his lashes.

“For the sake of your heart…I’ll be better. I promise.”

The tension in your body eased a bit, but it didn't last long as you watched JJ push the end of your shirt up your torso.

“Now enough about Rafe,” he whispered into your skin. “I have you all to myself this weekend.”

You shuddered at the feel of JJ’s tongue against your stomach, and his fingers wasted no time in searching for the waist of your skirt.

With your parents just down the hall, you were hyper aware of every noise you made under JJ’s careful ministrations. Lying underneath him felt more like a real relationship than any moment you’d ever had with Rafe. JJ was gentle with every touch he gave to you, and you couldn’t stop your stomach from flipping every time he let himself lose control, frantically shaking your head whenever he asked if he was hurting you.

It was a good kind of hurt.

That was something you thought you’d never say. The blond was careful in leaving you blemish free for obvious reasons, but on the off chance that you woke up with a slight bruise or a mark on your chest, it didn’t feel like it did when you looked at Rafe’s marks in the mirror. You’d stare at them with the strangest desire for more, wanting JJ to keep marking you.

One of his hands massaged your breast while the other was being stroked by his tongue, shaky moans escaping your lips in your dark room. You’d grown addicted to the way his cock stretched you out, eagerly opening your legs for him every time he crawled between them. Sex with JJ was fun and good, and it never not ended with you begging him to come inside of you.

You absentmindedly talked with Sarah while you waited for your food. She was telling you about some trip they planned on going with the Twinkie, but you had to be honest with yourself in admitting that you were hardly listening. JJ and Pope were on the other side of the restaurant, and the blond kept catching your eye no matter how much you tried to pretend like you couldn’t feel the heat of his gaze.

It was only a few hours ago that he’d been climbing out of your bedroom with promises to see you tonight. Heat settled in the pit of your stomach at the memory of his fingers on you and in you, and you reminded yourself to savor this because Rafe would be returning in 24 hours and who knew how long it would be before you saw JJ again in the manner you preferred.

“...and believe it or not, JJ is claiming he can’t make it that weekend. What could he possibly have to do,” Sarah scoffed, and you finally looked at her again.

You suspected why in your head, but naturally you kept it to yourself.

“Hey, do you wanna come over tonight? With Rafe gone with our dad, I can actually invite my friends over without apologizing on behalf of him every thirty minutes.”

Her proposal came the same time Kiara brought your food out, and you struggled to turn her down.

“I wish I could, but I can’t,” you sadly told her, hating the way her face fell. “I have some things to take care of at my house.”

The blonde eyed you, and you took your food with a smile thrown Kie’s way.

“Is that for real? Or is this about Rafe? I swear this time it’ll just be us girls, and they miss hanging out with you. Right?”

She looked to the brunette behind the counter, and when you glanced at her too, Kie was sending you a small smile.

“Yeah, you should come.”

Her tone and gaze was welcome enough, but there was something about the way Kie looked at you that felt off. You sighed, hating to turn them down.

“I really have something to do,” you assured them. “I have no doubt that Rafe will be going out of town with Ward again, so next time. I promise.”

You gave Sarah a hug, squeezing her extra tight as an apology, and you waved Kie goodbye. You left without another glance at JJ no matter how much you wanted to, and you were almost to your car when you heard your name being called. The sound of Kie’s voice was surprising, but you turned to face her nonetheless. 

Like inside, you couldn't place the expression on her face.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Her tone was light, and nothing on her face contradicted that, but something about her question sparked worry in you. You blinked, a bit thrown—because what could Kiara possibly want to talk to you about—but you gave her a nod.

“Yeah, sure,” you said with a shrug.

She almost looked like she hadn’t expected you to say yes, and you understood it. You guys weren’t exactly close. Friendly, but not quite friends. You watched her tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear, lips parting as she seemed to be struggling with how to start.

“I…don’t even know if I should be doing this,” she breathed, and at that, you frowned.

She swiped her tongue between her lips.

“...but JJ is my best friend and…”

At that, your heart sank, doubly unsure and worried for what she was about to say. Kie swallowed, gaze soft as her eyes met yours.

“I don’t know what exactly is going on between you two…” you felt your blood run cold. “...and I don’t know exactly how long it’s been going on…but it’s not fair to him.”

At first, you thought the him in question was Rafe, but the longer you stared at each other, understanding filled you. Your chest felt tight as you looked away, softly exhaling.

“Look, there’s no need to freak out because I’m 100% positive I’m the only one who knows,” she assured you. “...and that’s only because I’m the only one JJ talks to about you.”

You knew that. She’d told you at Midsummers, after all.

“I see the look in his eyes when he talks about you,” she whispered. “I hear what he sounds like when he talks about you—I see the way he looks at you, and it’s only because of that that I see the way you look at him.”

You finally met her gaze again.

“...but you’re never going to leave Rafe.”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut…because they were true. Truer than she even knew.

“...and JJ’s so…” her words trailed off with a light scoff. “You took him by surprise. You’re sweet and polite and the complete opposite of Rafe, and I know what he’s thinking.”

Kie shrugged. 

“...because I’ve thought it myself. JJ would be so much better for you. He’d be really good for you…but you’re never going to leave him. Are you?” she asked after some time.

When you blinked, you were surprised to feel a few tears skip down your cheeks, and you avoided her gaze.

“Kie it’s…it’s complicated,” you finally choked out, wrapping your arm around yourself.

“I don’t doubt that,” she laughed. “Trust, I believe that a relationship with Rafe Cameron is every bit as complicated as you say it is, but that doesn’t make this any more fair for JJ.”

An uncharacteristic stab of anger tore through you, and you stared her down, jaw clenching.

“Why aren’t you having this conversation with JJ? Why me?”

She looked at you like it was supposed to be obvious, a frown between her brows.

“...because he’s never going to leave you.”

You sharply inhaled at that.

“Despite how unfair this is to him and despite the fact that he’s forever going to be some dirty little secret and despite the fact that Rafe would probably run him down if he found out, JJ’s not leaving you. We both know that,” she sadly told you.

You didn’t have anything to say to that, and you struggled to swallow. Everything that Kie was saying was right…and you absolutely hated it. Sneaking around with JJ was fun and dreaming of a future with him was fun, but realistically? The small sliver of hope that you had about getting out of this relationship with Rafe was dwindling by the minute. Suppose you did get out unscathed…it wouldn’t remain that way. 

The moment you even thought of stepping out with JJ would be the end of both you and him, and it suddenly hit you that you couldn’t even fathom making JJ go through that. The only way you’d ever be truly free of Rafe was if he were behind bars, and with daddy’s money, the only chance of that happening was if he ever killed someone.

…and that someone was likely to be you.

“Look, I’m not saying all of this to be a bitch, and you probably think I am a bitch, right now, but I like you, Y/N. I really do, and I like you for JJ…but this isn’t fair to him, and you know it.”

You turned away from her with a heaving chest, and more tears spilled over just as a familiar voice reached you both. JJ said something to her that you didn’t catch, too busy staring off into the distance as the gravity of her words hit you. When JJ called your name, you didn’t answer.

You only noticed that Kie was making her way back inside when he forced you to look at him. With one look at your face, his entire expression dropped.

“Hey,” JJ softly said to you. “What’s wrong? Is it Rafe?”

You could only shake your head.

When he reached for your face, you backed away from him, your back grazing your car. Your eyes kept roaming around, your throat and chest feeling so tight. When JJ reached for the keys in your hand, you tightened your hold.

“Let me drive you back home. I’m coming over anyway-.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you mumbled.

There was a brief pause.

“You can’t drive like this-.”

“No, I don’t think…I don’t think you should come over,” you forced out.

It was some time before you looked at JJ again, and when you did, he was only staring at you with a frown. His lips opened and closed, seemingly struggling to put his thoughts into words before his face went blank altogether. He stared at you for a few seconds before his gaze found The Wreck and back. When he spoke again, his voice was hard, tone icy.

“What did Kie say to you?”

You shook your head, silently crying.

“Nothing that wasn’t true.”

JJ grabbed your arms, and you pushed him away.

“Y/N-.”

“I have to go,” you choked out, hurrying to the driver’s side with JJ on your heels.

You ignored him every time he said your name, and when you slid into your car, he prevented you from closing the door.

“I’m going to call you. Alright? I know Kie probably said some things to you that you think you need to take seriously, but she doesn’t know the whole story, you have to remember that,” he firmly told you, his hand on your cheek.

JJ made you look at him, his thumb brushing over your lip.

“She doesn’t know the truth, she doesn’t understand. Do not listen to her. Okay…?”

JJ was pleading with you, his gaze crazed and desperate, and despite the nod you gave him, you knew in your heart that you already were.

[bathypelagicbutch]

the first time i was treated even remotely respectfully in public when i first transitioned was at 3am in a 24 hour pizza place while high out of my mind on shrooms. i was in full drag with a full face and it was the first and only time i was ever gendered correctly and respectfully in a public place while presenting femme. i pass now, and I'm thankful that i do, but the amount of effort I've had to put into making my body as acceptable as possible for people just so i don't get harassed for more reasons than being Black in places i don't belong (super white grad school lmao) is wild. i shouldn't have to make myself look like you want me to fuck you for you to respect me, and it really shouldn't be that hard for queer people to realise that that is literally what most of society, including white queers, forces us to do. there's a weird intersection with Blackness and masculinity for both Black men and women that i feel gets pointed out a lot, but i feel like the hypermasculinisation of Black women unless they present sufficiently slutty is something that only gets talked about at length for cis Black women and queer Black women in general. mainly because whenever the dolls try to bring it up the only response is immediate horniness or complete denial. it's also interesting that when i started presenting more masc i started passing, but since then the amount of horny white people who've been unable to remove the rupaulified fucktoy version of me in their brain for long enough to listen to me when i try to talk about how much it sucks being butch and trans has increased. exponentially. you all have too many issues with Black men to even notice how your racism affects every part of how you view Blackness in general.

speaking of! follow up to that earlier thing i said about not being able to be masc and trans without ppl needing to remind you that they only support you for your ability to fuck them ‐ it's worse when you're Black, and you white queens do it too. and i really don't think you realise you do! because I've talked about this with almost every person I've been with (if I've even been allowed to before being dismissed without a hint of concern) and most of them just admitted to doing this at some point in our relationship. so instead of being philosophical I'll just use a few examples from the past 3 years (because they get worse if you go earlier and also i. do not have to)

you don't get to call me sir in bed because I'm masc and you said you want to treat me like a guy in bed (you're gay please stop confusing Black masculinity for being a man and work on your issues before fucking me) and you especially don't get to use this as leverage against me whenever i discuss how racist the relationship dynamic is despite your incredibly vocal support of my activism. you don't get to use my body or the right to demand that i use your body because you have a fetish for Black men, and you aren't allowed to get upset when i point out that this is the most supportive attitude you've had towards any part of me the entire time we've been together. you don't get to take out your frustration against Black people or Black men by making me fuck you, and again you don't get to get upset when i point out how fucked up that is that you call yourself an ally and then only use that allyship to get dicked down. you don't get to assume that because I'm Black and masc i'm the most aggressive top you've ever come across and you don't get to white woman tears your way out of it by using your own transness as a pass. you aren't allowed to enjoy Black bodies if we're only a commodity to you (which you openly admit) and you similarly don't get to white woman tears your eay out of it by using your confused sexuality as a pass.

i think I've made my point so I'm gonna stop! but yeah can you all be normal about Black people thanks a million blushes sweetly

kinda uncomfortable how ppl cant celebrate black trans women unless they are superduperhyperfeminine with 19 layers of makeup + expensive surgeries/weaves/dresses and looking like theyre going to walk the red carpet every day

[probablyreadinsmut]

The Cooldown.

One shot.

Pairing: Boyfriend! Joel Miller x Mid/Plus size Afab!Reader

Pictures used are just for reference purposes, you are the lucky gal in this fic

Summary: Your boyfriend can't resist offering you a little post workout fun. Completely inspired by those pictures of Pedro from yesterday.

This one goes out to all my thigh riding girlie's (gn) <3

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Established relationship, AU no outbreak, Mentions of being body conscious in the past, vague descriptions of being fuller figured nothing specific though, sweaty post gym thigh riding, Praise, dirty talk. Undefined legal age gap. Spanking.

Not beta'd and probably not proofread very well, putting the disorder in adhd, as ever. ✌️

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

“C’mere baby” Joel’s patting his thick thigh with a lecherous grin on his face as he’s watching you peel off your gym wear, the damp nylon is sticking to every inch of you.

You respond with a soft snort “What do you mean come here? Joel, I feel gross. That work out nearly killed me today.” It had been his idea to start going to the gym together, another ‘couples bonding’ experience he’d said. He was big into that kind of thing, but honestly you were pretty sure it was so he could watch your tits and ass jiggle, he thought he was slick.

“Do I look like I care darlin’? Get that beautiful ass over here and ride my thigh, c’mon...” It’s a command and an invitation all in one, your boyfriend of two years knew what he wanted, he’s never sugar-coated it and that horny, feral part of your brain loved that about him.

So, you shuck off your sports bra over your head, tossing it into the hamper. You can feel the sweat that had collected beneath the material was now running down your sternum, trickling to your belly button. You’d already be in the shower if you were alone, but these days doing anything alone is a huge feat in itself where Joel is concerned. On the days he’s not working, or when Sarah is at school, he’s with you, making the most of your time together. Usually naked.

You watch as his once brown eyes go almost completely black with desire, pupils blown wide, the bulge in his sinfully short shorts is impossible to ignore. You’d tease him a little more if you weren’t so fucking turned on. Maybe a joint session at the gym had been for both his benefit and yours. He’d been eyeing you in your figure hugging leggings and tight little sports bra while you’d been ogling his thighs and ass the whole time.

You should have known that once you made it back to your place, you’d both be spending the rest of the day engaging in a more horizontal form of exercise.

So you tug off your leggings, shimmying out of them as you take your panties off with them, his eyes never leave you for a moment, his gaze is both predatory and appreciative. You’re his. Every day he thanks his lucky stars for that.

You put on a little show for him as you strut towards the bed where he sits, his thighs parted wide, leaning back on his palms. Your hips shake hypnotically with every step. Before Joel, you hadn’t loved your body that much, but now with the way he worships every dip and curve, whether it be with his eyes, lips, tongue or fingers, now you love your fuller frame. Gone are the days where you’d be covering up in t-shirts that swamped you at the gym, you were beautiful and you didn’t feel the need to hide any more.

You lower yourself onto his thick thigh, more defined these days, he’d said a while ago that he wanted to stay in shape now he was getting ‘older’, if not for his sake then for the sake of his babygirl and you were more than happy to support him, they way he supported you in everything you wanted to achieve.

“That’s it” He coos, leaning back just pinning you with a stare that has you melting already “Fuck darlin’ look at you, pretty as a picture. Y’look good just like this...”

You preen under his praise, a little giggle leaving you as you plant your hands on his broad shoulders and start to glide along his thigh, the ridges and hairs tickle your clit just right. “Maybe we just skip the gym next time... Stay home and fuck all day instead?” That earns you a sharp spank, making you gasp, soothed by his thick fingers pawing at the fleshy part of your cheek. It’s a sweet sting that’s left there, one you know has probably left a red mark, one that has your cunt clenching around nothing nonetheless, dribbling onto his naked thigh.

“I could spend all day in this pretty little pussy, y’know that” His hands come up to your hips, kneading the soft flesh under his fingertips “But there’s just something about you... All hot and sweaty out in public that makes my motor run baby... maybe next time y’let me fuck you in the locker room huh? Stay nice an’ quiet for me while I bend you over one of those benches? That sound good sugar?” he’s guiding you now, pressing you down harder against his thigh, urging you to roll those gorgeous hips of yours.

With a breathy moan you nod and he spanks you again, the slap echoing throughout the bedroom.

“Use your words sweetness, need t’hear you say it.”

You feel your release quickly creeping up on you, his thigh is getting slicker by the second. You grind yourself deeper agaisnt his thigh with his guidance giving your swollen little clit all the attention she so desperately needs. “Yes! Fuck baby- P-please next time... N-next time fuck me just like that...”

He can feel you tensing up on top of him, he can hear the little hitches in your breath all the subtle cues that tell him you’re about to make a mess on his thigh.

“That’s it darlin’ just like that, keep goin’.. Fuck... After this we’re gonna go take a shower together and I’m gonna bury my cock so deep inside you, that you won’t know where you end and I begin... Gonna make this tight little pussy sing for me” His jaw is set and tense as he grits his teeth, urging you to move faster, you look between the two of you seeing his cock straining painfully against the stretchy fabric of his shorts, begging to come out and play.

You throw your head back, nails digging into his taut flesh as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave of pleasure. The deep, filthy groan that leaves him as he watches you fall apart is one that will be engrained in your memory for years to come.

His thigh is soaked, he can feel it running down his knee and he fucking loves it. Your cries of ecstasy are just dying down when he releases his grip on your hips and helps you up onto your feet, holding you upright since you’re knees are buckling like a deer taking their first steps.

He’s guiding you towards the ensuite when he ducks his head down to drawl in your ear “C’mon baby, let’s get you all cleaned up so I can make you dirty again”.  

Tags: @almostempty @itwasntimethatdidit40 @joelmillerisapunk @baronessvonglitter @syd-djarin @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @guiltyasdave

[mrsimpurity]

"AND I HIT IT LIKE IT’S ALL MINE" - satoru gojo

pairing: bestfriend!gojo x fem!reader

synopsis: having had enough of your 21 year long friendship with satoru, you come over in hopes of ending everything on somewhat good terms. things take a turn and after you make a heartfelt confession, satoru takes the last chance he might ever be offered

wc: 4.5k

warnings: dub con, manipulation, virginity loss, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, reader is naive, aftercare, cuddling, (gojo is a warning himself)

“you’re still friends with that guy?” shoko’s accusatory tone makes you sink in your seat in embarrassment. your little coffee date had been going well so far as the two of you had spent no less than two hours discussing absolutely everything that had happened this semester.

university and the stress which it provided, free of charge, was not the only thing that you and shoko shared. after stumbling upon her in one of the hallways on your very first day, the two of you found out that you had been assigned to the same dorm. soon enough, you and your roommate grew close and she became your most trusted friend. 

of course though, she wasn’t your oldest friend. fate had decided you’d be tethered to one of the most (generally acknowledged) annoying men for your whole life. and this particular childhood best friend was your choice for conversation this time.

“we’re childhood friends, i can’t just ditch him.”

“babe, with your wellbeing in mind, you’re being a total idiot. he gives me the creeps.”

“shoko, he’s really not that bad!” telling shoko about him seemed okay to do. you’d even thought that they would get along. but after sharing all the ups and downs, if you could even call them that, which you and satoru had gone through during your 21 years of friendship, everything seemed a little weirder and… intimate? 

sure, he could be a little handsy and familiar, but that was expected of someone who had seen you grow up. as you rambled on about your most recent “date” with him, shoko squinted her eyes in scrutiny, having had enough of listening to you talk about him. to her, he sounded like a complete stalker and obsessed psychopath who couldn’t get over his childhood crush.

the more you try to defend yourself though, the more you start to look back at your relationship with him. and in hindsight… perhaps he really could be a little weird at times?

like slipping a hand under your t-shirt whenever you’d mention you were on your period, for example.

“what? i’ve literally seen you naked when we were kids.” satoru would dismiss you whenever you’d voice your concerns about how 16 years later, your body had changed. but when his warm hands massage your sides and rub at your tummy as the pain fades away, your protests die on your tongue as you sink into his touch.

or kissing you on the mouth whenever the two of you would say farewell.

“hey, don’t leave me hanging.” satoru would pout, signaling he wanted a hug. but the second you’d reach to wrap your hands around him, he’d grab the back of your head and place a wet kiss on your cheek.

“ewww, satoru. we’re not kids anymore.” you’d whine, batting your eyelashes up at him in annoyance.

so he’d reach behind and pull you in by the neck, more carefully this time, as his lips land on yours. you freeze the first time he does it and satoru almost curses himself for being so fucking stupid and pushing himself onto you.

but the second time he tries his luck, you involuntarily moan into the kiss. he’s quick to slip his tongue inside your mouth for a moment before you suddenly push him away, surprised at yourself for even letting him do this. 

and even as he sees you stare at the floor in embarrassment, stomping away from him, hands clutching your handbag for dear life, he can’t forget the sweet moan you’d just let out. and he swears his dick has never been harder.

“yeah, he’s totally alright. definitely not fucked in the head. remind me of that one time he fondled your tits.” shoko lands a blow that has your cheeks growing red as you scan the café, hoping nobody heard that.

“i told you we were just cuddling! he wanted to help me relax.” you desperately try to defend yourself.

“were you on your period again? wait, that was a different situation. sore from the gym? shit, wait, that’s not it.”

shoko’s ironic little comments were definitely not helping you decide whether or not to continue this strange dynamic between you and the white-haired man.

“enlighten me, please. what excuse did he have this time? he just had to feel you up?” shoko ends her argument that serves as a punch to your gut. you feel like you’ve been slapped across the face and frankly speaking, you’d much prefer that than to have shoko snatch your rose-colored glasses off your face and bring everything out in the open. 

and even as your coffee date comes to an end and you completely change the topic, you’re left wondering if maybe shoko is right.

three days later, despite everything, you find yourself in satoru’s apartment. he had invited you over to play monopoly - something you did every week - but what he didn’t know was that he was about to be in for a surprise.

this was the night. you’d finally break ties and go your own ways. his confusing behavior didn’t necessarily make you feel uncomfortable. it was merely odd at times and as much as you’d appreciate an ounce of clarity, your friendship just had to end for good. and today was the perfect day to do this - the sooner, the better. maybe you’d break his heart but at least you’d leave with a little dignity. 

“satoru, don’t bother getting the board games out. or the snacks.” you say as you take off your shoes, stopping a surprised satoru in his tracks. he retreats from the dinner table and turns to face you. he places both of his hands on your shoulders and tilts his head with a pout.

“what’s wrong? you don’t wanna play anymore?” satoru asks sadly.

his attempts at making you fold don’t work this time and you grab his wrists, bringing his arms back to his side.

“satoru, i’ve been thinking, y’know…” you’re nervous as you begin what’s forming out to be a long speech.

“i’m not really sure we should be friends anymore. i’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me and the fact that you stood alongside me all this time, but i don’t find meaning in this friendship anymore.” you’re pretty proud of yourself for standing up to satoru, who still can’t quite decipher what it is you want to say.

“i’ve had the chance to look at our situation from a different perspective and i don’t think it’s normal.” you finish, taking a deep breath. you can pretty much see the gears shifting in satoru’s mind as he lets out a disbelieving scoff.

“it’s shoko, isn’t it? i knew she’d put ideas in your head and try to convince you i’m the bad one.” he speaks, his demeanor different from any other time.

“i’m sorry, toru. it’s not like that, i promise. you know she’s my closest friend though. she’s bound to give me advice.”

“what about me? i thought i was your closest friend. are you really going to listen to a girl you barely know and fuck up everything we’ve built the past years?” satoru accusing you of leaving him behind absolutely infuriates you because you’ve been doing quite the opposite.

something snaps inside of you and you raise your tone, begging to scare him away.

“shut it, satoru! i’ve had enough of it being all about you. you’re so overprotective at times. all you do is walk behind me like a dog all the time. i’ve given dozens of guys the wrong impression-“

“i’m really sorry, i had no idea-“ your best friend attempts to speak over you, surprised at your outburst, but you cut him off.

“no, satoru, you’ll let me fucking finish. haven’t you sat down and ever wondered what the fuck you were doing, chasing me all these years? i’ve been so busy explaining to guys that there’s nothing going on between us.”

you’re running out of breath with the way you’re rambling about everything you’ve kept hidden inside of you. your chest feels like it’s going to explode, but your heart also feels lighter. you feel yourself tear up as you face your best friend like you used to do in the good old times, and share whatever’s on your mind.

“god damn it, i’m a virgin at 21 because i haven’t had a single chance to talk to a guy without you coming up to us and acting like you own me. touching me like i’m yours and acting like a psycho. what the fuck is wrong with you?”

tears spill down your cheeks and you absentmindedly wipe them, not letting your emotions get in the way. you have to get everything off your chest and it has to happen right now.

“we’re done. i don’t wanna hear from you anymore. whatever weird thing we had going on-“ you say as you signal, waving your hand between the two of you, the distance between your figures more evident than ever “-is over.”

satoru stands, baffled. you observe his reaction, watching his expression suddenly soften. you don’t realise you’re shaking, tears still streaming down your face at your stupid, but heartfelt confession. as you take a deep breath, satoru speaks.

“please, don’t leave like this. i had no idea you felt this way, baby.”

“don’t fucking call me that.” a shudder runs through your body at the pet name as your mind tries its best to fight against his honeyed words and handsome face which want to lure you in, ensnare you once again.

“all you had to do was tell me. we can fix this. we’ve known each other our whole lives. you could’ve told me sooner.” satoru speaks after a moment. he tries to be as careful as he can, praying he doesn’t upset you again.

he steps forward and waits for you to retreat, but as you stare at his face, your knees lock and you freeze in place - something that’s happened many times before.

he doesn’t waste a second as he reaches for your face.

“i’m so, so sorry. it was stupid of me to act this way.” and as his thumb rubs your cheek in a soothing manner, you just can’t find it in yourself to say another word against him. he runs his thumb over your trembling lip. 

“we’ll fix this. okay, baby?” you don’t even register the pet name, staring as satoru’s towering frame makes you feel like a little girl once again.

his lips lift up in a very small smirk which you’re almost sure resembles pity.

“you’re a virgin?” his words don’t mean to be insulting but he realises he’s hit a nerve when tears start streaming down your face once again. his eyes widen and he cradles your face with both of his hands.

“fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i was just curious, doll, i promise i wasn’t making fun of you” satoru whispers, holding your face like you’re a porcelain doll.

you don’t realise you’re in his territory once again as your feet walk you over to his bed. you take a seat, ass barely hanging on the edge of his freshly washed seats, your body prodding at your mind in its last attempts to get you the fuck out of here. but as satoru crouches down and you catch a whiff of his comforting scent, you know you’re a goner.

“i’ve been scared. i’ve grown accustomed to having you everywhere with me. i feel like it’d be weird. not that i’d be betraying you, it’s not like we’re together. just been scared, toru.” you mumble as your eyes fill up with tears at the thought of your pathetic love life. you feel as if you’re clawing at the walls, begging to regain a sense of dignity with your words, but your heart feels like it’s coming apart and has laid itself bare for satoru to pick at.

“you want me to help you, doll?” satoru’s suggestion fills the quiet room.

you’re convinced you’ve never cried harder in your life before as tears fill your eyes again. satoru seems like some kind of monster right now and your watery eyes further distort his image. 

“i don’t know. ‘m scared it’s gonna hurt” your pitiful expression stares into satoru’s eyes. you’d come here to break things off with him and now, your body had surrendered. you were minutes away from taking your clothes off and getting under the sheets with this man.

“shhh.. hey, look at me, doll. don’t stain this pretty face with your tears. you’re scared, hm?” satoru was by no means a saint, but with the way his cock was straining against his pants as he watched you cry over the thought of his cock entering you - he could swear he was able to feel the heat of eternal hell creeping up on him. 

“‘m sorry, i know it’s really stupid.” you couldn’t stop sniffling, elbows propped on your knees as you covered your face, begging for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth right now.

satoru gently pulls at your hands, forcing you to reveal your face. cupping your red cheeks, he carefully wipes at your tears with his thumbs as you sit in front of him on the edge of the bed.

“it’s not stupid, i promise. is that why you’ve been so frustrated? you could’ve just asked me.” he speaks to you condescendingly, but your mind can’t seem to notice.

“that’s embarrassing, why would i ever ask that of you?” is what you answer as you turn your head, avoiding his eyes out of sheer shame. satoru is quick to grab your chin and turn your head to face him.

“there’s nothing in the world i wouldn’t give you, baby. you just have to ask.” satoru speaks, so closely to your face, you can feel his breath on your lips. his words have a deeper meaning than you can currently register, but you take them in on a surface level as you lose all scruples you’ve seemed to have all this time.

satoru’s surprised when you’re the one who reaches for him. your lips crash on his and you stop thinking. your best friend pushes you further onto the bed and lays you on your back, his tongue still inside your mouth. 

a whine creeps up your throat as his kisses now move alongside your jaw and carefully travel down your neck. satoru is quick to find the sweet spot near your ear and you let out a moan as he lets his tongue run over the mark he just left.

his kisses and touches never stop, even when his face hovers over yours to ask for consent.

“are you sure, doll? we can stop at any time. just wanna know you’re doing this because you want to.“ his words are muffled as he smothers you in kisses - on the edge of your lips, on your nose bridge, on the forehead. 

“toru, i’m sure. please.” he places a final kiss on your lips, hearing the pure need in your voice.

his hands find purchase on the waistband of your sweatpants as he slides them down, peppering kisses down your legs in the process. you’re quick to get rid of your shirt and bra, throwing them wherever you can find.

your panties find themselves on the floor next before satoru kneels between your legs, spreading your thighs as far as he can. you don’t even realise what he’s doing before you feel his warm tongue lick a stripe between your folds and you can’t suppress the pornographicly loud moan the action elicits from you. 

satoru’s fingers are squeezing your thighs as they threaten to close in on him. his mouth latches onto your clit and he alternates between sucking and placing kitten licks on the swollen nub.

“t-toru. more.” your pleas reach his ears and one hand moves between your legs. 

“i know you want more, baby. just taking my time with you. i need you nice and wet for me so you can take me. think you can do that?”

you nod your head frantically as you feel his finger tease at your hole, gathering the arousal that’s practically dripping out of you and smearing your juices all over. 

“sooo sticky and sweet.” satoru murmurs in fascination as his head falls down between your legs again, this time as he eases a finger inside your hole. you whine at the sudden intrusion but your pussy welcomes him in. he starts off slow, thrusting one finger inside you. your best friend picks up the pace as his tongue moves, your pussy a drenched mess. the tip of his tongue swirls on your clit and you’re convinced he’s spelling out something, but you’re teetering too close to the edge to even bother thinking about it.

a second finger enters you and satoru’s thrusts become more hurried when he sees you panting and shutting your eyes in hopes of prolonging your pleasure. he dives between your folds, tongue frantically licking and slurping.

“come on, baby. cum on my tongue. wanna taste more of you.”

satoru’s words and nose bumping against your clit send you over the edge as you lose control, hips jumping and legs twitching as pleasure overtakes your mind.

his fingers slow down and his licks turn into slow kisses. you shiver as satoru places one last smooch on your clit and takes his fingers out of your clenching hole.

he’s quick to bring those same fingers up to his mouth and run his tongue slowly up his digits. then he takes both of his fingers inside his mouth, sucking like he’s tasting nectar, and proves a point as he takes them out with a loud squelching sound.

the sight is so erotic, you don’t even register the fact that you’ve squeezed your thighs together, grinding against the sheets desperately, half-lidded and incredibly horny.

“baby, you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this.” satoru speaks, moving his lips across your body, down your navel, on your chest, between your thighs - anywhere he can find. he was taking his time with you, cherishing every second in which your spectacular body was finally splayed out on display - all for him to enjoy.

he grabs your wrists and places a kiss on both of your palms before leaning down and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss once again. his tongue moves across yours as you become an open-mouthed slobbering mess, saliva spilling out from the corners of your mouth, running down your tongues and falling on your chest. 

you moan inside his mouth, nails sinking in his back. satoru hisses at the pain and shuts his eyes and you take advantage of the moment, placing one last sweet kiss near the corner of his mouth before whispering.

“wan’ your cock inside, toru.” you’re long gone, completely having forgone the one and only goal you had for tonight - leave this friendship in the past.

satoru was living for this. finally hearing you speak up, whisper absolute filth in the tiny space between your mouths - god had finally smiled down on him. perhaps hell was not close. 

“think you’re ready, hm?” he asks, moving your hair out of your face as he places a strand behind your ear. you nod, staring into his eyes full of love.

“anything for my baby. i’ll go slow, yeah?”

satoru discards his pants and you just now notice he had been completely clothed the whole time. the thought of you naked and writhing in his arms as he pleasures you, clothes on and all, makes your arousal practically gush out of you.

he finally takes his boxers off and all that can be heard is the loud gulp which comes from your throat.

he’s huge. sure, he’s always been a fit guy but you had never really paid attention to that or thought about the fact that he might be… well, to put it this way, gifted.

you stare up at the man as he hovers over you, watching the flame in your eyes suddenly die out. how were you supposed to fit all of him inside you?

satoru’s hands run down your thighs in attempts to soothe you.

“baby, with the way you’re staring at me, i’m the one starting to get scared.” he speaks.

“satoru, you’re huge.”

he’s baffled by your confession. of course, he was aware of the fact. many women had told him so, but they were ones who were chasing a certain porn fantasy. it enticed them and he didn’t mind their compliments. but as he stares down at his cock, the action almost humorous, he realises that there’s a chance you’ll decide he’s just too big and back out.

that thought doesn’t bother him as much as his next one does - what if he hurts you?

he shuts his mind off and is brought back to earth by the sight of your naked body below him.

he’ll fit just fine. he’ll make sure of that.

“nothing to worry about. i’ll make you feel really good, yeah?”

and without you having to ask him, he grabs your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours, hoping to bring you a sense of comfort.

he slaps his tip against your clit to tease you and you squirm, pussy clenching around nothing.  

satoru lets out a small chuckle and begins pushing his tip inside, carefully moving through the first ring of resistance as your pussy clenches down on him. he has to bite down on his tongue. you were so goddamn tight, it was borderline painful. all he wanted was to break you in, spread you and mold your walls into the shape of his cock. but he couldn’t break his promise, not when his sweet girl was whining below him, writhing and whimpering at every prod and poke. 

“fuck, you’ve gotta relax, baby. you’re squeezing me so tight.” satoru says with a breathless chuckle as he tries his best to sink another inch inside you. 

“just a little more… biiig stretch. there we go.” your best friend mumbles softly as he bottoms out.

your pitiful moans fill his ears and he feels his heart sink. it takes all of his self-restraint not to pull out of you and just gather you in his arms so the pain could go away. but he knew that the best was yet to come. and the only better way to express his love for you was right here - you just had to push through the pain so he could show you heaven.

“i know, sweetheart, i know.” satoru shushes as his fingers move in gentle strokes all across your body in attempts to calm you down. your moans and aches slowly turn into whines for more as you get accustomed to his size.

“want me to move now, baby?” he asks as gently as he can, his voice barely a whisper. his fingers reach down between the two of you to rub your clit and you squeeze down on his cock at the feeling of his thumb rolling circles on your nub. 

satoru lets out a quiet laugh as you nod at him again.

he begins by slowly pulling out and sliding his cock inside you. you’re wet, dripping down the sheets as you try your best to get accustomed to satoru’s size. 

his moves turn into slow thrusts, controlled and not too harsh. satoru’s fingers reach down again and he helps you relax with a tease to your clit, distracting you from the fact that he’s picking up the pace, too lost in you.

your hand squeezes his as you look down and notice your tummy bulge whenever satoru thrusts deeper.

your moans get louder and your pussy clenches down on him at the sight. you’re whining incoherently, begging for more as your head falls back on the pillow.

“theeere we go, there’s my girl. feels good, yeah?”

“mmph” was all you could mumble out as satoru’s cock thrusted inside your hole, pleasure overtaking you for the first time in your life. his arms cage you in as he pants above your body. suddenly, he grabs a hold of your legs and props them up around his waist. you let out a loud moan at the change of positions, this new angle allowing him to reach even deeper inside you. 

“‘m close, toru. so close.” you whine out.

“let go for me, doll. i’m right here. toru’s right here.”

your release crashes over you in waves as you convulse, writhing and squeezing satoru’s cock.

“fuck. i’m coming.”

“inside. please.” is all you manage to say. and satoru doesn’t wait for you to tell him twice. his own release comes soon after and you bask in the feeling of his cum filling your warm hole. 

your pussy is still fluttering around his cock as satoru leans down to place a few kisses on your chest and finally meet your lips. 

the kiss isn’t hurried, it’s sweeter than ever and makes your pussy clench down on his cock again.

“greedy,” satoru chuckles and slowly pulls out of you as your cum mixes with his and drips down your fluttering hole. you whine at the feeling of emptiness. “but i think that’s enough for tonight, baby.”

satoru kneels down between your legs and spreads them again to watch your juices drip out of your pussy. 

before you can protest, his tongue laps up the remnants of your shared orgasm and you’re quick to shut your legs.

“you’re a pervert. and a tease.” you scoff at him in disbelief.

satoru envelops you in his arms and places a kiss on your head. 

“let’s clean you up, baby.” his words are the last ones you register before you doze off soon after.

satoru takes care of you, bathing you and dressing you in one of his sweatshirts, opting to also give you his boxers rather than having you sleep bare (he wouldn’t be able to resist you.).

it’s pretty late now and you’re sleeping soundly in satoru’s arms who's enjoying your mere presence, when you suddenly get a notification. he takes a quick look at your screen that has lit up.

shoko: why aren’t you answering?                     1:17 AM

don’t tell me that asshole came over again        1:17 AM

giving me the creeps again from miles away      1:18 AM

with you still in his arms, gojo grabs your phone from the nightstand as carefully as he can without disturbing your peacefully sleeping figure. his fingers move across the screen rapidly as he scoffs at the texts.

you: no                                                               1:21 AM

i’m in his bed this time                                        1:22 AM

*photo attachment*         ��                                   1:22 AM

and with a final photo of your head laying on his bare chest sent to your friend, gojo shuts your phone off and also dozes off, holding you as tight as ever, convinced that this way, you won’t try to run away from him again.

[kaliforniahigh]

maybe you want her, maybe you need her - n.s.

4 times Noah slept with you and 1 time he realized he was falling in love.

Warnings: the expression "slept with" is used loosely in this fic, talks of past experiences, Noah is a little nervous at first, smut (unprotected p in v, oral male receiving, fingering, mutual masturbation) a little bit of dirty talk and realization of feelings.

WC: 3.3k

Requests are closed for now / Click here to be added to the permanent tag list <3

1:

The first Noah slept with you was experimental.

You had just agreed on a friends with benefits relationship a few days ago. He was having a conversation with you on his couch, the guys out there on the back patio grilling some burgers and drinking some beer.

Somehow, the conversation took a turn into the topic of relationships, and Noah expressed to you how he only seemed to find girls looking for a serious relationship. He was young and with a whole career ahead of him, not wanting to settle down with only one person yet.

And you expressed how you only seemed to find uninteresting and rude guys. How you never felt comfortable bringing these people into your home, or even going to their house. And that you weren't looking for a comitted relationship either, and these men only seemed to want a woman to be their housewife.

Then, Noah went into a interesting topic. Casual sex.

He mentioned that he never trusted people enough to have just nice, casual sex with them. He always had this doubt lurking in his head that in the next morning, a picture of him in a compromising position was going to surface on the internet.

You giggled a little at this idea, but completely understood his worries.

You, on the other hand, mentioned how difficult it was to find a guy who was even half decent in bed. Most of them only caring about their pleasure, and just left you unsatisfied while they put on their clothes and left, promising to call to arrange another date.

You blocked their numbers as soon as they left.

As the conversation progressed, you could sense that the same idea was lurking in your and his mind. The more you spoke, the more it sounded like you were the perfect person for each other.

It didn't hurt that Noah was probably the most attractive man you knew. And he's caught himself having dirty thoughts about you more than once.

So, you left his house that day with an arrangement. When you needed someone to satisfy your needs, you would give each other a call.

Turns out, it wasn't exactly a call, but a spur of the moment thing.

Jolly had called you over to help him out with something on his guitar. You knew they were starting to brainstorm ideas for a new album, and being a guitar enthusiast yourself, you participated from time to time.

You ended up staying for the whole afternoon, laughing and playing some tunes, trying to create something that would even resemble a song.

By the time the clock approached 6 PM, everyone was starting to leave. You put your things together, but hanged by the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. You could hear Noah in the living room bidding everyone goodbye.

Noah entered the kitchen and saw you leaning against the counter, bringing the glass of water to your lips.

"Hmm", se hesitated a little bit, not really sure how to do this. He didn't want to be too straightforward and say things like "Hey, wanna fuck?", but he also couldn't lie and say he hasn't been thinking about you ever since that day. "I was thinking if maybe you'd wanna go up to my room?", he asked instead.

You thought it was adorable how nervous he was about this. A little smiled graced your lips.

"Yeah, sure", you agreed, setting the empty cup down. "Lead the way"

You followed after him as he opened the door to his room. You noticed the place was clean and tidy, and you remembered him saying he was a bit of a clean freak. You stood there, in the middle of his room and watched as he closed the door behind him and turned to face you.

The atmosphere turned a little awkward, and you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. In the years you've known him, things have never felt like this. But the knowledge that you were here so you both could have sex undoubtedly shifted things.

"You can kiss me, you know?", you broke the silence, tilting your head to the side, appraising his reaction. He took a couple of steps closer.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm nervous", he laughed a little and you smiled with him.

'It's ok", you reassured.

He looked at you with the eyes that always held your complete attention anytime they were on you, and you felt his hand take yours, prompting you to get closer to him, until you were standing toe to toe. Slowly, his other hand went up your arm, slightly brushing over your shoulder and finally rested on the back of your neck.

He was soft as he brought his lips forward to rest on top of yours, the kiss tentative at first, but as soon as you gripped the sides of his shirt, it became more urgent.

You took a few steps back and he went with you, lips never separating, until you fell backwards on the bed, and he climbed on top of you.

That night, you found out that Noah was the most attentive partner you've ever been with. He took his time getting to know your body and the things you liked, and he never seemed to be in a hurry to finish soon.

You found yourself blushing everytime you let out a particularly loud moan and he asked "Feels good, angel?", and you couldn't find the words to answer that yes, it does feel really good.

Noah, on the other hand, was trying to cope with the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair, and the weight of your body on top of his as you rode him until the two of you reached your highs. He observed as you threw your head back, and he wanted to litter your neck and chest with hickeys, but thought that he might take it too far if he did as he wanted.

He got himself dressed along with you and followed you down the stairs, watching you gather your things to leave. He opened the door for you and bid you goodbye and observed as you got in your car to leave.

He stood there for a few seconds after you had already left, thinking about how much he wanted to call you tomorrow and do this all over again.

2:

The second time Noah slept with you was the first time you had his dick down your throat.

It was in a random bathroom, in a party he didn't care about, in a house he didn't even know who it belonged to. But his friends invited him, and he decided to go.

Right now, as he felt your soft and velvety mouth wrapped around his shaft, he was sure it was the best decision he's ever made in his entire life.

"Fuck, that feels so fucking good", he groaned, throwing his head back and hitting it against the wall with a light thud. One of his hands was resting on the back of your head, but not really pushing, leaving it up to you how much of him you wanted to take.

Taking him out of your mouth, he watched as a string of saliva connected his tip to your plush lips, and he almost let himself go right then and there.

He arched his hips forward at the feeling of your delicate hand stroking him up and down.

"Wanna cum in my mouth?", you asked, with an absolute sinful look on your face, as you looked up at him from your position kneeling on the floor. He wanted to take a mental picture of how you looked in this moment.

"Yeah, baby. You gonna swallow everything?", he took advantage of your half open mouth and slipped a digit inside, your warm mouth wrapping around it and sucking his thumb as you hummed in response to his question.

Your hand worked along with your mouth to bring him to the edge, and he could feel himself falling faster and faster as the seconds ticked by.

It was when you took him slightly deeper and he felt his tip hitting the back of your throat that he knew he would cum very soon.

"Keep going, I'm gonna cum", his voice was tight and you looked up to see the veins on his neck straining, a pretty blush covering his chest and neck. Your hands ran up his abdomen, nails scrathing his skin and you felt his muscles go taut underneath your palms. Seconds later he spilled himself down your throat in warm and quick spurts.

"Fucking look at you", he grabbed you by the chin. "Such a good girl, taking all of my cum", he spread a little drop you let escape all over your lips.

You smiled at him. He was absolutely fucked.

3:

The next time Noah slept with you, things got a little dirty.

He had you on his lap, on his couch, two knuckles deep inside your pussy, as you shook on top of him.

"I fucking love your fingers inside of me", you told him, eyes closed and hips shifting a little to get him to go faster.

"That right, baby?", he answered, lips finding your neck and sucking little kisses, feeling the faint taste of your sweat that lingered on your heated skin. "Just getting this pretty cunt ready for my cock", he said, picking up the pace of his fingers, the squelching sound of your wetness making his dick strain against the confines of his sweatpants.

You noticed the lustful look on his face, and your hands moved on their on accord, as you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down enough to take his dick out, and start stroking him up and down. He would tell you to be patient and wait, but he couldn't deny a handjob from you even if he wanted to.

"Fuuuck", he let out a low growl at the feeling. "That's not fucking fair, baby"

"Why not?", you had a fake innocent look on your face, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

"Wanted you to make a mess on my fingers before slipping inside you", he tried to be as clear as possible, but your hands were making it difficult for him to concentrate.

"Yeah?", you leaned closer to him, lips ghosting over his ear. "How about I cum on your fingers and then all over your cock?", you said, and looked to the side to get his reaction.

"Fuck, you're such a dirty girl", he smiled and captured your lips on his.

After a few more pumps of his long fingers, you could feel the knot in your stomach wanting to unravel. Noah could tell, since your walls started to clench around him. The feeling of your warmth and wetness engulfing his fingers were enough to make him spill his release all over his stomach, covering your hand in his cum.

You weren't far behind him, the warm and fuzzy feeling spreading all over your insides, as you shook above him, ultimately gushing all over his fingers and legs. His fingers kept their rhythm until you were too sensitive to take it anymore.

Your head rested over his chest, not caring about the sticky mess between you.

"Fuck, I didn't know you could do that", he observed, admiration all over his voice.

"I didn't know I could do that either", you answered, honestly.

You couldn't see it, but he had a stupid grin on his face. He was the first guy to make you squirt.

4:

The next time Noah slept with you, it was on your bed.

"How do you want it, baby?", he asked you, not giving you much time to recover after he just made you cum on his mouth.

You didn't utter a word, instead, you got on your hands and knees in front of him, lifting your ass up in the air.

Usually, Noah liked to look at your face when he fucked you, but the thought of having you from behind made his head dizzy. Taking your plush ass in his hands, he kneaded the flesh before delivering a harsh slap to your ass cheek, making you jump slightly and whimper in the mattress below you.

"Gonna slip it in, ok?", he muttered above you, leaning down a little so you could hear his words clearly. He always got your reassurance before he started to fuck you, and that turned you on even more.

The feeling of his dick slipping inside of you little by little always made your eyes roll to the back of your head, and mouth hang open in pleasure. There was nothing like that first push.

Once he was shethed inside of you, you wiggled your ass a little just to tease him a little bit. And it worked, as it always does.

"Don't fucking do that", he hissed through his teeth, gripping your flesh harder. You tried to hide your smile from him, but failed.

Every time Noah slipped inside of you, he had to steel himself as to not cum within the first two pumps. He didn't know how it happened, but you had him in a chokehold, and no sex has ever felt like this.

He closed his eyes and looked up, trying to concentrate as he started to move back and forth. Soon, your moans filled the room, and your hands gripped the sheets crumpled beneath you.

Noah grabbed one of your hands and brought them to rest on your back, slipping his fingers in yours and intertwining them. But, soon, the contact wasn't enough for him anymore. His skin felt cold and he needed to feel the blazing heat of you on him.

"C'mere", he muttered, leaning down and hooking his arm on your neck and pulled you up on a kneeling position on the bed, back resting against his chest.

His hand roamed up and took a handful of your breast. You could feel his hot breath on your neck, and the feeling of him slipping in and out multiplied by tenfold.

The feeling of your quickened pulse under his palm, as Noah placed his hand over your neck, made all the filter between his brain and mouth disappear.

"No one feels as good as you do, baby", he whispered in your ear. "Love having you all pliant and fucked out like this"

You whimpered his name, because you too, loved having him pounding you into oblivion.

Your hands reached back to grasp his hair, tugging like your life depended on it. "Make me cum", you told him, looking back to lock your eyes with his.

"You wanna cum?", he asked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "Then tell me who this pussy belongs to, baby", he inquired and gripped your neck harder.

"It belongs to you", you whispered, with no hesitation.

"Say my name", he inquired again.

Your head was spinning, and you were going to cum from his words alone.

"It belongs to you, Noah", you said, and his hands detached from your neck, and started to rub circles on your clit.

Your breath hitched and your eyes closed shut as you came with a cry of his name, shaking and relying on him keep you up, because your body felt like mush all of a sudden.

+1:

Noah replayed the last time in his head over and over again. He felt like he said too much, but then he remembered you never commented on it, and he didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

Since then, he's been hesitant to call you, to invite you over or ask if the could come over to your place. And he could tell you noticed it.

His texts have been shorter and fewer than usual, and you had to double text him sometimes to get a response from him. He felt bad, but he didn't know how to approach the feelings blooming in his chest. And he also didn't want to lose what you had.

The thing is, he started to feel like what you had wasn't enough anymore.

By the end of the first week of him being weird with you, you decided to show up at his house to talk to him. You knew Noah, and you knew that if you never approached the subject, he was never gonna talk about it.

Besides, you felt silly for saying what you said the last time you were together. It was clearly only some dirty talk to get you going, but the words falling from his lips felt so true at the time, that you couldn't help but agree with them.

And at the end of the day, they were true. Because you haven't thought about fucking someone else ever since you started this agreement. You didn't even want to.

You pondered over what you were going to say to him as you knocked on his door. You knew he was home, because his car was in the driveway.

He opened the door and greeted you with a hesitant 'hello".

"I think we need to talk", you told him, cutting right to the chase.

Noah felt like a million needles were piercing his heart. He had fucked up. He had fucked up and now you were standing on his doorstep, ready to end it all.

He nooded and stepped aside to let you in. You didn't sit on the couch, you were too anxious to even try and stay still.

You waited until he was right in front of you to start talking.

"Do you wanna end this?", you blurted out, watching as his eyes widened a bit at your inquiry. "Because if you want to, it's totally ok. I just don't want us to get weird with each other, you know? We can still be friends even if you don't want to...", he had to stop your word vomit.

"I don't wanna end this", he stated, quieting the flurry of words coming from your mouth.

"Then why have you been so distant?", you wondered. And watched him go silent for a moment. "Is it something I did? Is it what I said last time?"

"Fuck, no", he turned to look at you. "You did nothing wrong. It was me who shouldn't have said anything to begin with"

"So, you didn't mean it?", you asked, voice quiet this time, as if afraid of his answer. "You didn't mean it when you asked me if I belonged to you?"

"I didn't mean to put you in a uncomfortable situation"

"I meant it", you voiced. "I meant it when I said I belonged to you"

You watched as his expression changed to one of slight shock, and silence fell over the two of you like a weighted blanked.

"Noah, say something, please?", you inquired.

A little laugh fell from his lips, head shaking in incredulity.

"I thought I had fucked up, you know?", he looked at you. "I thought you'd definetely get scared and run away. And here you are, telling me you meant when you said you belonged to me"

"I haven't thought about anyone else ever since we started this", you confessed, and he took a few steps closer to you, taking your face in his hands.

"You've been plaguing my thoughts ever since that first time in my bedroom, baby", he stroked you cheeks lightly with his thumb. "I don't think I want to be with anyone else, and that scared the shit out of me"

"That's good. Because I don't want to be with anyone else either", you mumbled into his lips, smiling and feeling him smiled aling with you.

Maybe you failed at this friends with benefits thing, and maybe you'd have to figure out where to go from here. But the thought of having each other as you navigated this road of newfound feelings, made you feel like you could have everything with him if you wanted.

And Noah was sure he would give you everything if you asked him to.

Tag list: @concreteangel92 @foliosgirl @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @stardustsirenmelody @concretejunglefm @fadingangelwisp @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @babygirlchuuya @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @lacy1986 @romanreigns-supreme @xmads-omensx @missduffsblog @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc @badomensgoodomens @floatingkiwi @collective-heartbreak @dontwantthemoney @dream-machine-love @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @amelia-acero @montgomery-929496 @stardustsirenmelody @triedbimsoblu333 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @noyaisasimp @w0manof-flesh44 @geminigirlfromfinland @zozaline @deardelirium @turn-your-life-into-folklore @dominuslunae @shelbyrlxoxo @super-btstrash-posts @shayzillaaaa @wordskeeper @enemiestolovershoe @haehihello @anameunmusical @blade-dressed-in-red @jilliemiw86 @vinyardmauro @ohheykayyyxo @chey-h

Tumblr is not letting me tag some blogs, I don't know why. Sorry :(

[thisweknow]

I very much understand your frustration with the "you! are! valid!" Tumblr culture from the mid-2010s, that was something that honestly made me feel so isolated as a teenager. I hated hearing "it gets better!" and watching my life fall further and further apart with everyone telling me that it would all be fine one day. It felt hypocritical. It WAS hypocritical—to tell me my feelings and my experiences were valid and then to just absolutely steamroll me when I expressed my frustrations and fears.

I started to favor the phrase "everything changes" around the time I turned 16. I liked the idea of neutrality, it was something I'd seen as a suggestion relating to body positivity, which I struggle(d) with greatly. The basic premise was that if you couldn't say anything positive, try saying something neutral. Everything changes is neutral. It's not saying it'll get better necessarily, but not that it would be worse, either. It felt like the closest to a truth I could have. What I was dealing with in any given moment wouldn't last forever. Everything changes, my circumstances today are entirely different than my circumstances tomorrow, even if it doesn't always feel like it.

I've let that phrase carry me for years. In the bad moments I remind myself that everything changes, and the world parts that suck won't suck so immediately forever. In the good moments I remind myself that everything changes, and I should hold on to those and savor them for what they are, even if they're peppered in with the worst moments.

It's not to say that I don't remember the bad moments now—I very much do. I can remember a lot of the trauma of my childhood and if I let myself sit with it for too long I can feel what it was like to sit awake at 3 AM sobbing in my room wishing that I was no longer here. I don't think I will ever truly forget that. I can say that those parts aren't the part on my mind anymore. When I look back at my life I tend to look with rose colored glasses at the parts that were good. The moments I spent with my friends, the nights I'd sneak out to ride my bike in the peace and silence of the small town I lived in, the rehearsals for plays that I dreaded going to but loved being in, the way my dog would curl up at my feet and sleep there all night when I was sad—the list goes on. The bad parts are still very much remembered and acknowledged, but the good parts are the ones I think about and the ones I miss.

I know that I struggled for a long time with feeling guilty about having moments I looked back on that I didn't hate. This was especially true after leaving an abusive relationship. I knew the person I had left had been abusive and had done horrible things to me, that I had sustained damages that I wasn't sure I could recover from. Yet I still had moments I looked back on fondly. Moments where I had genuinely cared for my abuser, moments of sweetness and moments of joy, moments of calm and peace that I hadn't had with anyone else. I felt like looking at those moments somewhat fondly cheapened my experiences, as if it was somehow an admission of fraud to acknowledge that even the worst thing that had ever happened to me had its silver linings. It took years of therapy and dedicated self work to finally understand that abuse doesn't happen in a vacuum and that it's okay to miss those good moments, however many there might be, even when we know the overall situation was awful.

It's okay to savor the good things when they come your way. A journal entry from when I was about 17 sums it up really well: I don't want to be happy all of the time. If I was happy all of the time I wouldn't really feel happy anymore, would I? It would just be my normal, my neutral. I want to feel positive at least 75% of the time, that's my goal. I want to feel sad sometimes, too. I want to feel angry and hurt, I want to feel excited and happy and in love, too. I want to experience every emotion life has to offer, even the sucky ones. I don't think I would appreciate happiness if I didn't experience everything else, yknow?

btw you will miss this in 5 or 10 years. memory will smooth these circumstances down like a river stone, and you will find yourself longing for a shade of light or a moment of this particular innocence. you don't know about what happens next, and one day that will be the most alluring thing of all. don't leave it all for nostalgia. have a nice night now, whatever night it happens to be.

[cerisahh]

summary — love language headcanons for the arcane characters (giving and receiving)

characters included — jinx, ekko, silco, vander, viktor

cerisa speaks — literally started writing this the night of s2 act 3 release and only now finishing it if that doesn't tell you something about how inconsistent i am idk what does. ATTENTION PEOPLE IN MY REQUESTS!! i swear to god i will do your request in the next year for sure! viktor forgive me, amen.

jinx — gift giving. jinx's most loyal companion is her imagination so it isn't hard for her to think of gifts that are personal to you that'd you'd enjoy.

we see many of the little homemade trinkets that she's made for silco throughout the years, my favourite being the ashtray he keeps on the desk in his office. so dependant on what you're into, she'll showcase her love for you in the form of a trinket.

oh, so you like to read? she sees you dog-earing a page of your book whilst you two are in her hangout and drops her current project to fashion you a bookmark. you only notice that her tinkering has stopped when the bookmark has been dropped on your lap and she's made a blasé comment about you destroying your book for too long so she just had to make you this so you'd stop.

hiding behind a mask of indifference when giving out her gifts is kind of her thing, but she's anxious to no end to see if you like it. her mind runs a mile a minute; 'don't they like it? do the colours not match? they hate it they hate it theyhateittheyhateittheyhateme-'

until you're holding it carefully between your fingers and your mouth is making that 'o' shape it does when something unexpected has happened. when you say that it's the most thoughtful gift you've ever received she's insistent on making you a hundred more.

physical touch. stop booing me i'm right! let me explain. as we see before powder becomes jinx, she's quite normal with physical contact, we see vi hugging her, putting a hand on her shoulder, claggor helping her down to the apartment, etc.

it's after vi slaps and abandons her that she becomes uncomfortable with physical touch. silco (most of the time) lets her initiate it on her own terms.

one time he doesn't is where she's playing airplane with his shimmer device and he grabs her wrist. she lets him retain his grip for a moment but when she does move her arm away he doesn't follow her. through my own delusions i've come to the conclusion that jinx wants, maybe even craves physical comfort, but quickly feels smothered by it when it's forced on her.

despite this, with the right person i feel like she would be willing to accept physical affection from them. it would take time to establish and develop a trusting relationship with jinx but when you're there, you're there. she's also a deeply insecure person when it comes to relationships of any kind and retaining them so you'll have to slip in some words of affirmation between touches.

her favourite way to receive physical touch would for sure be you playing with her hair. running your fingers through it and scratching her scalp? congratulations, that's your new job. you mention off the cuff how you'd love to see her hair down? suddenly there's a brush in your hands and an expectant and giddy jinx sitting in front of you.

even though she trusts you, she'll still get startled and tense up if you suffocate her with too much affection. holding your arms out for a hug or patting the seat next to you so she can lean into your arms is a much better way to initiate contact with her.

a little extra headcanon, when she's doing your nails she'll use her own hands to hold your fingers still instead of a wrist rest. she says it keeps them steadier so she doesn't make any mistakes but really she craves that subtle contact.

ekko — acts of service. season two episode seven dictates this as canon i'll be taking no arguments on this day. seeing his huge mural of future vi to show powder after he upsets her really just cements this headcanon. this is a pretty big action so i'll focus on the smaller ones for now.

starting off really strong with him decorating your room for you. close your eyes and imagine him building you a shelf to store your books or keepsakes. not only building it but carving designs into it. ohh you like music? well take a look at those carvings of sheet music! and do you spy some new books in your collection (stolen from a piltover library, naturally)

with so many different types of people living at the tree, at the beginning he was pretty much forced to learn how to cook all different types of meals. it paid off though because no matter where you hail from, he'll be able to prepare you any of your favourite dishes.

the more i type about ekko the more i realise he is the best househusband out of the arcane gang. he can cook, he can clean, he's a provider - he is quite literally the entire package. him being a certified pretty boy also helps because everyone needs a little eye candy in their life.

this one is sickeningly sweet but for relationship milestones, and even just randomly, ekko will fully plan out a date night for the two of you. picnics on the top of buildings that overlook the neon lights of the undercity, just the two of you. it's so intimate.

physical touch. now this i truly will be taking no arguments on. receiving physical affection for ekko is huge. we all saw how fast he hugged benzo in the alternate au!!

with so many people from his early life either dying (benzo, vander, claggor, mylo) or leaving (jinx and vi), ekko hasn't really had anyone to offer him any form of closeness. sure, he has the firelights. it just isn't the same though.

so when you come along with all the tender hugs and fond touches that he's been deprived of for so long he knows he's done for. consider him addicted. even just clapping a hand on his shoulder after a fight, hell, LEANING ON HIM?? that man is YOURS to command for now until the end.

knowing you're just physically there and not going anywhere - not abandoning him - he's content to bask in your presence.

quick kisses and brief glances at each other come in abundance. if you're not at the firelights base then you're on the go. it's these times that make you both appreciate the time you have with each other. ekko plans to take full advantage of the downtime you both have between missions. don't expect to stray a few feet from each other.

silco — acts of service. silco's acts of service are usually communicated through orders that he gives his goons. say you offhandedly mention that some shimmer addicts have set up camp in the alley next to your apartment. when you leave the last drop and go home you notice that those shimmer addicts you briefly complained about? gone. without a trace.

i feel like he prefers to give out acts of service to you as a kind of 'i can provide for you, don't leave' kind of thing. you don't need to ask silco to do something, he'll take the initiative. he wants you to view him as a reliable provider. this sounds very 50s but he's an old fashioned kind of guy so it checks out.

not the kind of guy to do chores at the start i'm afraid. he has people for that. maybe you can convince him to wash the dishes after you cook you, him and jinx a meal. but never and i mean NEVER will you catch this man hoovering or mopping the floor. that is just simply not going to fucking happen. you'd have better luck asking him to quit smoking.

not gonna lie he just lightens the load of whatever jobs you need to do so you can spend more time together. the famed eye of zaun is clingy.

physical touch. actually controversial take no way CHILLS! similarly to jinx, silco wouldn't actively look for physical touch in any given situation. he's obviously traumatised by his former best friend choking him out and drowning him underwater. not to mention completely brutalising his eye.

jinx is likely the only person he would willingly let touch him. not even sevika on a good day gets that privilege. you would need to spend a lot of time gaining silco's undying trust. only when you two are emotionally close will you be able to share his touch.

buying you jewellery just so he can feel the warmth of your body heat as he clasps the necklace around you neck. silco is very subtle and sneaky when he wants to be close to you.

his neck is off limits to everyone, even you. placing your hand on his collarbone whilst entangled in bed together is the furthest you'll get.

vander — physical touch. oh i just know this man gives the best bear hugs. physical intimacy with vander is just safety incarnate. when he takes you into his arms it really feels like a breath of topside air after a lifetime underground.

i don't think vander would really like being with a partner that didn't enjoy physical affection. it's not only a bonding experience for the both of you to engage in but also a display of trust that he deeply values.

conveying his love for you with intimacy, non-sexual and sexual is something he cherishes. the level of mutual understanding and relationship building that comes with it is indispensable to vander. basically the keys to a successful partnership with him.

that little symbol of love in the undercity where two people touch their foreheads together? that's the most significant way you can show that you truly care for someone and it's vander's favourite way to connect with you in moments of peace.

words of affirmation. vander is the type of guy to not necessarily need words of affirmation to feel good about himself but will appreciate it all the same. he tries so hard to be a good example to the kids and in general to the populace of the undercity. he wants this life to be better. he wants to be better.

he's the leader, the protector, all the pressure is on him. affirming his efforts through words goes further than you might think.

it's you and him against the world. the brewing political storm that plagues both the undercity and piltover is little more than a distant thought when you're whispering honeyed words to and fro in the dead of night. for a man with such an imposing presence, telling him that you love and need him makes him weak.

with your words of affirmation, he's more certain of his role in the undercity than he's ever been. you renew the passion he had in youth, he wants the best for you and will do whatever he can to obtain it.

viktor — quality time. viktor is all about sharing the same space as his partner. with him being the co-founder of hextech, it's difficult for him to find time alone to dote on you. which is why you''ll often find yourself in the company of viktor (and oftentimes jayce) in their lab, them working on a new use for hextech, and yourself either studying or simply watching the magic (literally) happen.

when jayce is off being the poster child of hextech or following councillor medarda around like a lost puppy, you and viktor will settle into comfortable silences. usually with the only noise being the tinkering of science equipment or the quick scribbles of pen on paper. there's no pressure to fill the room with unnecessary chattering. just you being with him is enough. your presence is akin to a relaxant to him.

sometimes most of the time you'll need to remind him to take breaks when you've been there for hours on end and he's showing no signs of stopping or slowing down. it's a practised routine at this point; he refuses, you leave it alone for five minutes, during this time he is sneaking glances at you when he thinks you aren't looking, waiting for you to ask again.

when you do, he feigns reluctance as you grab his hand to get you both some fresh air and a proper meal. he might actually be part cat now that i'm thinking about it. he just can't help but love spending time with you.

words of affirmation. actions speak louder than words? pft, yeah right. communication is deeply valued by viktor. he's exceptional at deducing someone's intentions behind their words so don't even bother trying to get something by him. it won't work. you try to plan surprise birthday party for him? he's one of the first people to find out about it.

so when you earnestly tell him how special he is to you or how appreciative you are of him, he knows it's 100% what you actually think and BOY does that fluster him more than anything.

he isn't very big on compliments, not that he doesn't value the ones you so willingly give him, but he finds it hard to accept the good and beauty you see in him. there will always be a part of viktor, machine herald or mortal man, that refuses to believe he could be good enough for this type of love. when he retracts inside his mind and lets his doubt drown him, it's you who can pull him out of the water and onto land. telling him that you love him just the way he is will silence his uncertainty.

oh you know what would just about finish him off? making him a lunch box and putting a note in there. it doesn't having to be something poetic, even a simple 'i love you ♡' will be at the forefront of his mind until he gets back home to you.

honestly, if you're someone who expresses their love through words of gratitude or proclamations of admiration then a relationship with viktor will be smooth sailing.

[shdysders]

lips that lied

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: tara makes a drunken mistake at the party you didn't want her to attend.

word count: 8.5k

Tara didn't mean for it to turn into a fight.

She never did. It was like something inside her took over—this simmering frustration that she couldn't control, no matter how hard she tried.

The moment someone started telling her what to do or how to live her life, it was like a switch flipped.

She'd hear the words, feel the anger rise, and before she even realized it, she was saying something sharp, defensive.

It had started small, little things that shouldn't have mattered so much. Sam reminding her to take her laundry to her room or nagging her to empty the dishwasher.

Tara knew Sam wasn't trying to push her buttons, but it always felt like she was. The tone Sam used—the one laced with authority, like she was the boss of everything—grated on Tara's nerves.

It didn't matter that Sam was older, that she'd been through more. Tara wasn't a kid anymore. She didn't need someone hovering over her shoulder, pointing out every little thing she did wrong.

But it wasn't just Sam anymore. The fights had started bleeding into other parts of her life, other relationships. With you. And that hurt more than anything.

You were the one person Tara felt like she could truly be herself around, the one who always had her back, no matter what.

But lately, it felt like every conversation between you two ended the same way—with raised voices and lingering tension. And no matter how hard she tried to keep her temper in check, she always ended up getting mad.

She didn't mean it. She didn't intend to lash out at you. But when you brought up the parties, the drinking, the staying out late, it was like a spark to dry tinder. It wasn't the words themselves—it was the way you said them.

The concern in your voice, the way your brows furrowed just slightly, like you were worried but also disappointed. It made her feel like you didn't trust her, like you thought she was reckless and incapable. And that stung more than she'd ever let on.

Deep down, Tara knew where you were coming from. After everything you'd both been through—everything with Ghostface—it made sense that you'd be scared, that you'd want to protect her. She understood that.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that your concern came with strings, like it was just another way of trying to control her. Another way of making her feel small, like she couldn't make her own choices without you or Sam hovering over her shoulder.

And maybe it wasn't fair to take it out on you. Maybe it wasn't fair to get angry every time you brought it up. But Tara couldn't help it. The anger came fast and burned hot, and by the time she realized it, the damage was already done.

It was always about the same thing, too—the parties, the drinking. Always. You'd look at her like she was throwing her life away, and she'd lash out, throwing up her walls before you could even get a word in.

She hated the look on your face when it happened, the way your shoulders would drop just slightly, like you were trying to hide how much it hurt.

But that only made her angrier—at you, at herself, at everything.

Because she didn't know how to stop it. She didn't know how to stop feeling like this, like everyone she cared about was trying to tell her how to live her life. And she didn't know how to tell you that it wasn't you she was angry at—it was everything else.

Tara had been trying—really, she had. There were nights she'd sat on her bed, staring at the ceiling, telling herself she didn't need to go out again. That she could say no the next time her friends invited her to a party. College life wasn't supposed to be about drinking until you blacked out or waking up to half-remembered nights.

That's what you and Sam had told her, over and over. And the worst part? You were right. Tara knew you were right. That's probably why it made her so angry.

She hated the way her stomach twisted every time you brought it up, the way your words stuck in her head like some nagging voice she couldn't shake.

She wasn't proud of some of the nights she'd had—the tequila shots that blurred into oblivion, the mornings she woke up with her head pounding and no idea how she got back to her room.

But she didn't want to hear it from you. Not when it already weighed on her enough.

And yet, she'd been trying. Tara hadn't gone to as many parties recently, even when her friends begged her to come out. She told herself she didn't need it, that she didn't need to drown herself in the chaos of booze and loud music just to feel something.

College wasn't about that. You and Sam were right about that too.

But tonight... tonight was Halloween.

The one night of the year where partying didn't feel reckless—it felt expected. It wasn't just about drinking; it was about the costumes, the energy, the way everyone on campus seemed to buzz with excitement for weeks leading up to it.

Tara had spent the last two days scrolling through pictures of her friends' costumes, feeling the first pangs of FOMO creeping in as they texted her plans for the night.

If there was ever a night to drink and party, it was Halloween. That's what everyone kept saying, and deep down, Tara agreed. It wasn't like any other night of the year. This wasn't just some random frat party—it was a celebration, an excuse to dress up, let loose, and not think about all the heavy stuff for a while. For once, it felt justified.

But there was that nagging voice again. The one that sounded a lot like yours.

You wouldn't see it that way. You never did.

It was part of why she hadn't brought it up yet, why she'd stayed quiet all day when the group chat started blowing up with details about pre-games and house locations. She already knew what you'd say, could hear the conversation playing out in her head like a bad rerun.

Isn't it the same as every other one? You said you were going to cut back, Tara.

She sighed, pulling her phone out and scrolling through the endless stream of messages. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about staying in. There was something comforting about the idea of spending the night with you, cozying up on the couch with a movie while everyone else partied. She liked those nights the most. She liked you the most.

But Halloween only came once a year, and she wasn't ready to let it pass her by.

She had made up her mind hours ago.

Though she hadn't told you yet, and maybe that was unfair. But what was the point? You'd already made your feelings clear about the parties and the drinking, and she wasn't in the mood for another lecture. It wasn't like she needed your permission anyway. Tara had spent all afternoon convincing herself of that, repeating it in her head like a mantra while she got ready.

Now, standing in front of her mirror, she leaned in closer, carefully dragging the eyeliner across her lid with a steady hand. Her music played softly from her speaker as she moved with practiced ease, brushing a shimmery gold shadow over her eyes.

The sound of your footsteps approaching the room made her shoulders tense, but she didn't let it show. She focused on her reflection, keeping her face neutral, as if she hadn't heard you come to the doorway.

You leaned against the frame, your arms crossed loosely over your chest. "Where are you going?" Your voice was casual, but the curiosity behind it was unmistakable.

Tara's eyes flicked to yours in the mirror, her expression calm, as if this were no big deal. "Just a Halloween party," she said, her tone light and nonchalant. She reached for her lipstick, uncapping it and twisting it up. "I was thinking maybe you could come along."

It was true. She wanted you to come.

You didn't answer right away. Tara could feel your hesitation, the way your arms tightened slightly against your body. Finally, you spoke, your voice softer this time. "Oh... I thought we could just stay home and watch a movie. Sam's not home, so it'd just be the two of us."

Tara froze for just a second, the lipstick poised in her hand. She felt the weight of your words settle over the room, quiet but heavy. She hadn't thought about that—about how it would've been just you and her tonight, no interruptions, no one else around.

Her gaze flicked back to the mirror, and for a moment, she almost said yes. But the lipstick in her hand reminded her of where her night was already headed, of the costume she'd spent hours putting together.

She sighed quietly, muttering under her breath, "Well, you should've said something sooner, then."

The words were out before she could stop them. She didn't even think about how they'd sound until the silence that followed made her realize just how loud they'd been.

Slowly, she glanced at you again in the mirror, her stomach twisting as she saw the way your expression changed—the faint flicker of hurt in your eyes, the way your posture straightened as if bracing for something.

Tara clenched her jaw, trying to push down the flicker of anger she could already feel stirring in her chest. She hadn't meant to snap—it just came out wrong. But the way you stood there, looking at her like she'd just let you down, made it so much harder to keep her cool.

She capped the lipstick with a sharp click and turned to face you fully, leaning one hand against the desk behind her. "Are you coming or not?" she asked, her voice clipped, already tinged with irritation.

You hesitated again, and Tara could see the conflict written all over your face. "No," you said finally, your voice quiet but firm. "And honestly... I don't think you should go either."

There it was—the thing she'd been waiting for, the thing she was dreading. Your concern, your protectiveness, wrapped up in a polite but unmistakable disapproval.

Tara let out a sharp exhale, shaking her head as she pushed off the desk. "Of course you don't," she muttered under her breath, though it wasn't quite quiet enough to go unnoticed.

She started pacing the room, her hands flexing at her sides as she tried to keep herself in check, but the familiar heat of frustration was already creeping up her neck.

This was how it always started—your calm but firm words, her biting back without thinking, and then the inevitable explosion. She could feel it building, that anger she never knew how to stop, the same kind that always reared its head when Sam tried to tell her what to do.

"I don't get why this is such a big deal," Tara said, her tone sharper than she intended. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the desk with a defensive edge. "It's Halloween. It's not like I do this every night."

"You shouldn't be doing it at all," you replied, your voice quiet but firm, though there was a tension in your jaw that gave away your frustration. "Tara, you know it's not safe. Not after—"

"Don't." Her voice was clipped as she cut you off, her eyes narrowing as she shook her head. "Don't bring that up." She pushed herself off the desk, turning her back to you.

Her fingers tightened around the fabric as she stared at the floor. Her chest felt tight, her heart pounding against her ribs like it wanted to break free. She didn't need you to say it. She already knew. The parties, the drinking—it wasn't safe. It wasn't smart. But she was so tired of being reminded of it, so tired of feeling like she couldn't make a single decision without someone stepping in to tell her it was the wrong one.

"Why do we keep having this same conversation?" Tara asked, spinning around to face you, her voice louder now, almost exasperated. She threw her hands up, the movement sharp and agitated. "Why can't you just trust me?"

"It's not about trust," you said, your voice rising slightly to match hers, though you clearly didn't want to fight. "It's about being realistic, Tara. If something happens—"

"Nothing is going to happen!" Tara snapped, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. She took a step closer to you, her frustration spilling out in the way her fists clenched at her sides. "Why do you always assume the worst? I'm not some reckless idiot who can't take care of herself!"

You flinched slightly, your lips pressing together into a thin line. But then, your eyes met hers, steady and unflinching. "I don't think you're reckless," you said, your voice softer now but still resolute. "I think you're stubborn. And I think you're angry, and you don't even know why half the time."

Tara's breath hitched, the words cutting deeper than she'd expected. Her jaw tightened, and she let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head as she looked away. "Oh, so now I'm the problem?" she muttered bitterly, pacing a few steps to the other side of the room.

"I didn't say that," you said, your voice still calm, but there was an edge to it now—a frustration that had been building over time. "But you don't listen, Tara. Not to me. Not to Sam. It's like you don't care how much we worry about you."

She stopped pacing, her head snapping up to meet your gaze. "I didn't ask you to worry," she shot back, her tone colder now. "I didn't ask for either of you to act like I'm some fragile little kid who can't handle herself."

The words hung in the air, heavy and cutting.

"Tara..." Your voice wavered slightly, and for a moment, she saw the hurt flicker in your eyes, the way your shoulders sagged just a bit. "I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying to keep you safe. Because I care about you. Because I love you. And it feels like you don't even care about that."

Her chest tightened at your words, but she pushed the feeling down, burying it beneath her anger. "I do care," she snapped, though her voice cracked slightly. "But I can't keep living my life walking on eggshells because you're scared something might happen. That's not fair."

"And it's fair to me?" you shot back, your voice rising now, the frustration finally spilling over. "To stand here and watch you go out, knowing damn well something could happen to you and I'd be powerless to stop it?"

Tara opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss. Her hands fell to her sides, her breathing uneven as she stared at you, the weight of your words sinking in. The anger still simmered beneath her skin, but now it was tangled with guilt, confusion, and something she didn't know how to name.

"It's not safe, Tara," you said, your tone softer this time, like you were pleading with her. Your hands rested at your sides, fingers twitching slightly, a subtle sign of the nerves you were trying to hide. "You drink too much. You're out late, and if something happened—"

"Like what?" Tara cut you off sharply, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as she took a step back. Her posture screamed defensiveness, her jaw tightening as she stared you down. "Ghostface? You think I can't handle myself?"

"That's not what I'm saying, and you know it," you replied, exhaling in frustration. Your tone was measured, but there was an edge to it now, like you were walking a fine line between trying to stay calm and letting your own anger slip through. "I just don't understand why you need to go out all the time. Why can't we just stay here? Together?"

Tara's mouth opened, then closed, her eyes flickering to the floor for a brief second before she met your gaze again. Staying here felt suffocating, like the walls of the apartment were closing in on her a little more every day. But she didn't say that. Instead, she threw her hands up in exasperation, her voice rising despite herself.

"I'm not some kid who needs a curfew, okay? I'm not going to stop living my life just because you and Sam want to keep me locked up in bubble wrap!"

Your face fell, the flicker of hurt in your eyes like a knife twisting in Tara's chest. She hadn't meant it like that—at least, not entirely. But the words were out now, sharp and cutting, and there was no way to take them back.

"Tara..." Your voice was quieter now, but the disappointment in it was unmistakable. It made her stomach churn, but the anger boiling inside her wouldn't let her stop.

"You don't get it," she snapped, doubling down even though part of her wanted to stop. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, her body trembling slightly as she glared at you. "You never want to come with me anyway, so why do you care so much? You're just going to sit here and judge me from the couch like you always do!"

"That's not fair," you said, your voice breaking slightly, but you didn't raise it. Instead, you crossed your arms, your shoulders hunching defensively as you looked at her, the sadness in your eyes more apparent now. "I'm not judging you, Tara. I'm scared for you. There's a difference."

"Scared for me?" she scoffed, rolling her eyes as she took another step back, her arms still crossed like she was shielding herself. "I don't need you to be scared for me. I'm fine! I'm not some helpless little girl who needs you holding my hand every second of the day!"

You blinked, your lips parting like you wanted to say something, but the words didn't come. Tara could see the hurt written all over your face, the way your shoulders slumped like her words had physically knocked the wind out of you.

"Why do you always do this?" she continued, her voice louder now, cracking slightly at the edges. She ran a hand through her hair, pacing a few steps before spinning back around to face you. "Why do you always make me feel like I'm the bad guy? Like I'm the problem?"

"I'm not trying to make you feel like anything," you said, your voice shaking now, though you still kept it calm. "I just—I don't want to lose you, Tara. Is that so hard to understand?"

Tara froze for a moment, your words cutting through her anger like a blade. But instead of softening, the guilt twisting in her gut only fueled the fire.

"You're not going to lose me," she said, her tone sharp, almost dismissive. "But you can't keep treating me like I'm going to break every time I step out the door. That's not fair to me, okay? I'm allowed to have a life."

The silence that followed was heavy, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on. Tara's chest heaved as she stared at you, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails bit into her palms.

You took a step closer, your hands falling to your sides as you looked at her with pleading eyes. "I'm not trying to take away your life, Tara. I just want to be a part of it. And I want you to be safe. That's all."

Tara's hands shook at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to hold herself together. But the tightness in her chest only grew, her pulse pounding in her ears.

She felt caged, suffocated by the weight of your concern, like every decision she made had to be scrutinized and questioned.

It wasn't fair—it wasn't fair that you could make her feel this way, guilty and cornered, when all she wanted was space to breathe.

"Well, maybe I don't want you to be a part of it!" The words were out before she could stop them, and the second they left her mouth, she wanted to take them back.

Your expression shattered, your eyes widening slightly as you stepped back like she'd physically pushed you. The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.

Tara swallowed hard, her throat tightening as she looked away. "I didn't mean that," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. But the damage was already done.

You didn't say anything, your lips pressing into a thin line as you looked down, your hands clenching at your sides.

"I'm going," she said finally, her voice colder now as she grabbed her jacket off the chair. "Don't wait up."

You finally opened your mouth at that, your voice trembling as you took a hesitant step forward. "Tara, wait, I'll—”

But you were interrupted by the sharp slam of the door.

Which Tara slammed behind her harder than she meant to, the sharp sound echoing in the hallway. She paused for a moment, her chest heaving as the anger slowly began to ebb, leaving guilt in its place. She rubbed a hand over her face, muttering a quiet curse under her breath.

She did feel bad. She hated the look on your face, the way your shoulders had slumped, like her words had taken something out of you.

But going back now? That would only prove your point—that she couldn't handle herself. Tara wasn't going to let that happen.

Her boots clicked against the pavement as she made her way down the street, her jacket pulled tightly around her. The city was alive with Halloween energy, groups of costumed people spilling out of bars and clubs, laughter and music filling the air. It should've made her feel better, reminded her why she was doing this. Instead, it only made her stomach twist.

By the time she reached the house, the bass from the music inside was already vibrating through the sidewalk. The door swung open as someone stumbled out, nearly knocking into her, and Tara slipped past them without a word.

Inside, the party was in full swing. The living room was packed with people, costumes ranging from elaborate to lazy crowding every corner. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat, the music loud enough to drown out her thoughts. Perfect.

The first thing she did was head for the kitchen, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. She grabbed a red solo cup from the counter and poured herself a drink, the burn of the cheap vodka barely registering as she tipped it back and swallowed half in one go.

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through her chest. Tara grabbed another cup—this time mixing it with whatever mixer was nearby—and made her way back to the main room, the tension in her body slowly unwinding.

"Tara!" Anika's voice cut through the noise, and Tara turned to see her standing near the couch, Mindy by her side. Both of them were grinning, their costumes half-wrinkled from the chaos of the party.

"Hey!" Tara forced a smile, lifting her drink in a half-hearted salute as she made her way over.

"Look at you!" Mindy said, smirking as she gave Tara a once-over. "All dressed up and ready to party. Didn't think you were coming."

"Changed my mind," Tara replied casually, taking another sip of her drink as she leaned against the wall.

Anika nudged her playfully, her own drink sloshing slightly in her hand. "Glad you did. It's not a party without you."

Tara chuckled softly, her smile feeling a little more real now. The noise, the crowd, the alcohol—it was a distraction, exactly what she needed.

Anika shook her head, grinning as she sipped her drink. "Where's Y/N? I thought you two were hanging out tonight."

Mindy shot Tara a knowing look, raising her drink to her lips as she waited for the response.

Tara stiffened, her grip tightening slightly on her cup before she masked it with a shrug. "She didn't feel like coming."

"Really?" Anika frowned. "She seemed excited about Halloween the other day."

"She had other plans," Tara said quickly, brushing it off as she took another sip of her drink. "It's not a big deal."

Anika's brows furrowed slightly, but she didn't push. Mindy, however, smirked as she leaned closer. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Shut up," Tara muttered, rolling her eyes as she took a long drink.

Mindy laughed, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Just saying."

"Okay, but seriously," Mindy said, her tone conspiratorial as she leaned closer, clearly trying to change the subject. "Who do you think has the worst costume here? My vote's on the guy in the banana suit.”

Tara snorted, the tension in her chest loosening a little more as she let herself fall into the moment, pushing everything else to the back of her mind.

For now, this was enough.

But it wasn't for long.

The drinks went down too easily tonight, one after the other, the burn of the alcohol soon replaced by a numbing buzz that made Tara's limbs feel weightless. She wasn't keeping track—she never did—but by the time she was halfway through her fourth drink, the world around her had already started to blur.

It was worse than usual. She could feel it, the familiar dizziness settling in her head, the way her balance wavered slightly every time she shifted her weight. But she didn't care. She couldn't care.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw your face—the way your voice had cracked when you said, "I just don't want to lose you." The guilt she'd managed to bury earlier was bubbling back to the surface, and the only way to shove it down again was to keep drinking.

By the time she reached for her fifth cup, her hands were unsteady. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice told her to stop, that this was too much, too fast. But that voice sounded a lot like you, and Tara didn't want to hear it.

She threw back the drink anyway, wincing as it went down harder this time, the sweetness of the mixer barely masking the sharpness of the alcohol. The room spun slightly when she set the cup down, and she reached out to steady herself on the edge of the counter.

"Hey, you good?" someone asked, but Tara didn't bother turning to look. She waved them off with a muttered "Yeah, fine," before pushing herself away from the counter.

She stumbled back into the main room, the crowd swallowing her whole. Anika and Mindy had been here a minute ago—she was sure of it—but now they were nowhere to be seen.

God, she was drunk. Too drunk.

She tried to push through the sea of people, her eyes darting around the room in search of her friends. Her chest tightened when she couldn't spot them, panic starting to creep in around the edges of her alcohol-fueled haze.

Someone bumped into her, spilling a bit of their drink onto her jacket, and she spun around, her frustration spilling out in a slurred, "Watch it!" The person just rolled their eyes and moved on, leaving Tara standing there, unsteady and alone in the middle of the chaos.

Her head was pounding now, the music too loud, the lights too bright. She fumbled for her phone, pulling it out of her pocket to call Anika or Mindy, but her fingers felt clumsy, and she nearly dropped it twice before managing to open her contacts.

No answer.

Tara swallowed hard, her throat burning from the alcohol and something else she didn't want to name. The room felt smaller now, the walls closing in as the reality of the situation began to settle over her. She'd lost her friends. She was drunker than she'd ever been. And she had no idea what to do next.

The air in the crowded living room was stifling, thick with the mingling scents of sweat, spilled drinks, and cheap perfume.

Her head was swimming, the pounding bass vibrating in her chest like a second heartbeat. She pressed a hand to her temple, grimacing as the alcohol buzz threatened to tip her into full-on dizziness.

Her throat burned, dry and aching from the string of drinks she'd knocked back earlier. She needed water. Something cold to clear her head and keep her upright. The thought became a singular focus, cutting through the haze. Just water. If she could get to the kitchen, maybe she could think straight again.

The dimly lit hallway leading to it felt like a challenge course, bodies crowding every step of the way. Tara squeezed past a couple leaning against the wall and miscalculated her footing as her balance wavered. Before she could stop herself, she collided into someone with enough force to send her stumbling back.

"Whoa there," the guy said, his hands coming up instinctively to catch her by the shoulders.

Tara blinked, disoriented, her face heating from the embarrassment and the alcohol swirling in her system. "Sorry," she muttered, trying to straighten herself as her vision cleared enough to see who she'd bumped into.

Frankie. Of course.

He smirked, letting his hands drop but not stepping back. "Tara Carpenter, right?" His tone carried a mix of recognition and amusement, as though the universe had handed him this moment just for fun.

"Yeah," she said, brushing her hair back as she tried to shake off the drunken haze clouding her thoughts. "Sorry, I wasn't—"

"Looking where you were going?" he teased, his grin widening.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the faint curve of a smile tugging at her lips. "Something like that."

Frankie didn't move away, his presence lingering a little too close for what might have been polite. He tilted his head, giving her a once-over with that same smirk, his dark eyes glinting under the dim light.

"You seem like you've had a good time tonight," he said, his voice light but edged with something Tara couldn't quite place.

She shrugged, brushing imaginary lint off her sleeve as a distraction. "It's a party," she said, aiming for casual. "That's kind of the point, isn't it?"

Frankie chuckled, the sound low and smooth. "True. But you look like you might need a breather. Want some water or...?"

Tara raised an eyebrow, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. She wasn't sure if he was being considerate or just trying to prolong the conversation. Either way, she crossed her arms, leaning her hip against the counter to steady herself.

"I was about to get one," she admitted, her voice more defensive than she intended.

"Smart move," Frankie said, stepping around her to open the fridge. He pulled out a bottle and held it up with a crooked smile. "Ladies first?"

Her gaze flicked between him and the bottle, her lips quirking in a faint smirk of her own. "Thanks," she said, taking it from him and twisting the cap off.

She took a long sip, her throat easing from the burn of the earlier drinks. The water was cold, sharp against her tongue, and for a moment, she let herself focus on that—on the relief of it.

"So," Frankie said, leaning back against the counter as he watched her. "What brings you to this madhouse tonight? Thought you weren't much for these kinds of things."

Tara bristled slightly at the question, shifting her weight to the other foot. "Why does everyone assume that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "I can have fun, you know."

He grinned again, but it was softer this time, almost like he was testing the waters. "Didn't mean anything by it," he said. "Just... you seem more low-key. Not the type to down four drinks and stumble into strangers."

Tara rolled her eyes, though she couldn't entirely stop the heat rising to her cheeks. "Guess I'm full of surprises," she said, taking another sip of water.

Her thoughts drifted briefly as the alcohol in her system dulled her usual defenses. It felt nice, talking to someone without the tension simmering beneath the surface. No fights, no accusations, just... this. A moment where she wasn't angry or being scolded. She leaned into the counter, letting herself relax slightly.

Tara let her gaze drift over Frankie for a moment, her vision slightly unfocused from the alcohol but sharp enough to take in the details. His short, dark curls framed his face, and there was something effortlessly casual about him—like he knew exactly how to play the part of the guy who didn't care too much but somehow still caught everyone's attention.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, a fixture she doubted ever left, and the faintest trace of a beard shadowed his jawline.

She took another sip of water, using the motion to cover the way her eyes lingered. It wasn't like she was interested—not really. He had a reputation, and not the good kind. But he was here. He was talking to her. And with her friends somewhere out in the chaos of the party, who else was she supposed to talk to?

Tara knew she was drunk, the buzz coursing through her veins a constant reminder. It made everything feel a little too easy, a little too warm.

Her thoughts were slippery, darting from one thing to another before she could catch them. But still, she could look, couldn't she? That wasn't a crime.

"Your friends ditch you or something?" Frankie's voice cut through the fog in her head, his tone light but curious.

She shrugged, her fingers curling around the neck of the water bottle. "Something like that," she said, leaning a little more heavily against the counter. "They'll turn up eventually."

"Mm," he hummed, his smirk deepening. "Guess that makes me the lucky one, then."

Tara raised an eyebrow at that, her lips twitching into a faint smile despite herself. "Lucky?" she echoed, her tone teasing.

"Yeah," he said, his gaze flickering over her like he was sizing her up. "I get to keep you company."

She rolled her eyes, though the warmth in her chest spread a little further. "You're full of it," she muttered, but there wasn't any bite to her words.

He shrugged, unbothered. "Maybe. But you're still standing here, aren't you?"

She didn't answer right away, instead glancing at the door that led back into the main room. The thump of the music bled through, muffled but still loud enough to make her head ache. She could leave. She could walk back out there, try to find Mindy and Anika and pretend she wasn't standing here with him.

But instead, she stayed.

"You're right," she said finally, her tone dry. "Guess I am."

Her lips curved into a smirk, matching the one Frankie had been wearing since the moment she stumbled into him. Her steps were slow but deliberate as she closed the distance between them, her eyes locked on his.

The noise of the party around them faded into the background, leaving only the faint thrum of the bass vibrating through the walls.

She didn't know why she was moving closer, or what exactly she was hoping to find in the glint of amusement in his eyes, but she didn't stop herself either. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her veins, softening the sharp edges of her usual caution. Maybe it was the simmering anger she hadn't been able to shake since she left the apartment.

Either way, the part of her that usually screamed to think twice was silent, and she wasn't about to argue.

Frankie didn't step back as she approached. If anything, his smirk widened, the corners of his lips curling with a confidence that might have been off-putting if she were sober. But she wasn't sober, and the alcohol told her it was a good thing. His posture remained relaxed, leaning slightly against the counter, but his eyes followed her every move.

Tara stopped just close enough for the air between them to feel charged, her gaze flickering down to the beer in his hand before returning to his face.

Her heart thudded in her chest, though she couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol coursing through her veins or the strange electricity in the air between them. Her balance wavered slightly as she shifted onto her tiptoes, her hands briefly brushing the counter for support before she reached up.

The decision wasn't calculated—it wasn't even really a decision. It just happened. Her lips pressed to his, soft but insistent, the faint bitterness of beer on his mouth mingling with the warmth of his breath.

For the briefest moment, her mind went completely quiet. The noise of the party faded into the background. The tension from earlier, the argument, the mess of emotions—none of it mattered. Her chest felt lighter, as if she'd found a fleeting relief she hadn't even known she was searching for.

Frankie responded almost instantly, his lips moving against hers with a confidence that matched his earlier demeanor. His hand slid to her waist, steadying her as she leaned further into him. The kiss was firm, and there was no hesitation on his part. It was easy, natural, and for a fleeting second.

But then, just as quickly, he pulled away, breaking the connection with a soft sound that felt too loud in the charged silence between them. Tara blinked up at him, her breath hitching slightly as she tried to process the shift.

Frankie's expression was a mixture of amusement and something darker, his brows furrowed slightly even as a small, lopsided smirk played on his lips. His eyes scanned her face like he was trying to solve a puzzle, his voice low and teasing when he finally spoke. "Don't you have a girlfriend?"

The words hung in the air, sharp and pointed, but they didn't land the way they should have. Tara's mind didn't snap to you, to your laugh or your smile or the way you always made her feel safe. It didn't even flicker with guilt. Instead, the question felt almost absurd, like it wasn't meant for her.

Her expression shifted, her brows knitting together as her lips parted slightly in confusion. She stared at Frankie, her drunken mind slow to process the accusation. "No," she said finally, the word slipping out with a sharp edge, like the idea itself offended her.

She barely gave him time to react. His smirk widened slightly, like he wasn't entirely convinced, but she didn't care. She didn't want to care. She pushed up onto her toes again, her hands gripping the edge of the counter for balance, and kissed him once more.

This time, Frankie didn't hesitate. His hands found her waist again, pulling her closer as he kissed her back with more force. Tara leaned into him, her body moving instinctively as her mind quieted further. The heat of his touch and the pressure of his lips were the only things she could focus on, drowning out the buzz of the party and the alcohol swirling in her system.

The kiss deepened, and the edges of the room blurred as the world around them fell away. Tara didn't think. She didn't analyze. She just let herself go, letting the moment sweep her up completely, letting the alcohol and adrenaline guide her. For now, it was easier not to remember. Easier not to think about anything else.

It didn't feel good.

That was the thought that struck her, sharp and insistent, as the kiss deepened. There was a hollowness in her chest, a feeling she couldn't quite place that refused to be drowned out by the alcohol. But it was supposed to feel good. That's what she told herself. This was what she came here for, wasn't it? To forget. To escape. To lose herself in something that didn't matter.

Frankie's hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer, and Tara kissed him harder, as if forcing the moment to feel like it was enough would make it so. But that sensation in her stomach—the one that twisted and knotted itself tighter with every second—didn't leave.

Her lips moved against his with a kind of desperation, but the spark she expected, the relief she thought she'd find, didn't come. The kiss was warm, his touch steady, but it wasn't enough to chase away the heaviness sitting in her chest. It wasn't enough to erase the lingering anger, the ache she refused to name, or the faint sense of wrongness pressing at the edges of her mind.

Tara told herself it was the alcohol. That the burn in her stomach and the dull ache creeping up her spine was just the vodka catching up to her. But it wasn't. It was something else entirely, something she didn't want to think about.

So she pushed it down, ignored it. She kissed Frankie like it was a solution, like if she just went through the motions hard enough, it would fix the uneasy feeling clawing at her insides. She tilted her head, her fingers gripping the counter for balance, and kissed him like she meant it.

But no matter how hard she tried, that feeling in her stomach didn't leave.

And then.

It hit her all at once, like a punch to the gut.

You.

Her body froze against Frankie's, the haze of alcohol momentarily lifting as her mind snapped into sharp, almost painful focus. She did have a girlfriend. A girlfriend who was waiting at home for her.

A girlfriend who had looked at her earlier with worry etched into her features, asking her to stay, asking her to talk.

A girlfriend who wanted nothing more than to spend the night curled up on the couch with her, watching movies and laughing at whatever cheesy dialogue made its way onto the screen.

She had you.

And she'd told Frankie she didn't. She'd looked him in the eyes, as if the very idea of you didn't exist, and said no. No. She'd kissed him, lied to him, and to herself, and for what?

Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of it all came crashing down.

Tara shoved Frankie away abruptly, panic tightening every muscle in her body. The force sent her stumbling back a step, and Frankie staggered too, looking utterly baffled.

"What the fuck?" he spat, his voice sharp and angry, his brows furrowing in disbelief.

Tara barely heard him. Her chest heaved as she scanned the kitchen, her eyes darting to the edges of the room, searching frantically. Had anyone seen them? Was someone standing there, phone in hand, ready to immortalize her mistake forever?

Her hands trembled as her gaze swept over the crowd, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She didn't know if it was the alcohol, the fear, or the overwhelming realization of what she'd just done, but the world tilted slightly as her mind raced, desperate to make sense of what had just happened—and to undo it, even though she knew she couldn't.

Tara's eyes darted wildly across the room, desperate to anchor herself to something, anything that would quiet the storm brewing inside her. One of the doors creaked open as someone stumbled in, but she was already turning toward the noise filtering in from the main room.

Her gaze followed the chaotic scene beyond the doorway—the crowd swaying to the beat of the music, cups raised in the air, bodies pressed too close together.

She spotted a couple making out against the wall, their faces blurred together in the dim light, oblivious to the world around them. Nearby, a guy in a cheap pirate costume laughed loudly, spilling his drink over himself as his friends roared in drunken amusement. It was all so normal, so loud, so suffocating.

And then, her breath hitched.

There, just beyond the shifting sea of people, was a figure standing motionless. Someone was looking straight at her, their eyes locked onto hers.

At first, it didn't register. Her vision swam, the blur of tears and alcohol distorting the scene in front of her. But that silhouette—that hair, those familiar features—something about it cut through the haze, stabbing straight into her chest.

Her pulse quickened as the figure stepped forward, just slightly, enough for the light to catch their face.

It was you.

Tara froze.

It was you—your eyes, your expression. The heartbreak painted so clearly across your face, it made her stomach twist painfully. And then there was your costume—something hastily thrown together, it seemed. A loose shirt that was supposed to pass as part of the look, a small prop in your hand that didn't match the theme of the party. It was clear you hadn't cared what you looked like. You had come here for her.

Tara felt like she was going to be sick.

You had seen it. Tara could tell by the look in your eyes, the way they shimmered with unshed tears, the way your brows furrowed ever so slightly, as if trying to make sense of what you'd witnessed.

You had seen her kiss him. Probably seen her lie, even if you hadn't heard the words. The betrayal was written all over your face, the silent confirmation that Tara's worst fear—the one she hadn't even allowed herself to fully acknowledge—was now her reality.

You didn't say a word, didn't move. You just stood there, your shoulders slightly slumped, the light from the room casting harsh shadows over the raw hurt etched into your features. Your lips parted like you wanted to speak, but no sound came out.

She couldn't breathe.

Her body trembled, her legs feeling like they'd give out at any moment. The guilt crashed over her in waves, suffocating her. Tara's chest tightened as she stared back at you, her lips parting uselessly as though she could explain—could somehow undo what you must have seen.

Her mind raced, replaying the moment just minutes before when she'd lied, when she'd kissed someone who wasn't you.

The taste of Frankie's beer still lingered on her lips, and it made her stomach churn. How could she? How could she do this to you—the one person who cared for her, loved her, even when she didn't deserve it?

Her guilt clawed at her, sharp and unrelenting. She could feel the weight of it in her chest, see it reflected in your eyes.

You were here, dressed in something last-minute, probably feeling out of place in the loud, chaotic party. You'd come for her, likely because you'd wanted to talk, to make things better after the argument. She could see the effort, the love in the way you'd shown up for her. And she'd thrown it away.

Tara's breathing turned shallow, her hands shaking at her sides. She couldn't move, couldn't speak. The words she wanted to say died in her throat, swallowed by the lump of regret that had taken over.

Her lips trembled, but no sound came. The only thing she could do was stand there, staring at the one person she swore she'd never hurt, knowing she already had.

Tara felt as though her chest was caving in, the weight of her actions pressing down until it became nearly unbearable. Her stomach churned violently, guilt sinking its claws into her as her mind replayed every small detail of the moment before. The way her lips had moved against his. The lie she'd so easily let slip from her mouth.

And now, you. Standing there, looking at her like she was a stranger—a stranger who had just torn your heart in two.

Her throat tightened painfully, a lump of emotion rising that she couldn't swallow down no matter how hard she tried. Her head buzzed with alcohol, with shame, with the sudden, overwhelming clarity of what she'd just done.

You weren't supposed to be here. You were supposed to be at home, waiting for her like you always did, with that soft patience only you seemed to have for her. But you weren't.

You were here, in front of her, and she had ruined everything.

A tear slipped down your cheek, catching the dim light as it fell, and it was like a knife slicing through her chest.

She watched as you exhaled shakily, your shoulders rising and falling with effort, as if just standing there was almost too much.

And then you nodded. Slowly, your head dipped once, twice, as if acknowledging what she'd done, what she was.

That nearly undid her.

Your lips pressed into a small, trembling smile—forced, broken, and so soft it shattered her. You tried. Even in the moment where she'd failed you in the worst way, you still tried. And that was what gutted her the most.

You didn't say a word.

You turned around, your movements slow and deliberate, like it physically hurt to walk away.

And Tara stood there, rooted in place, her hands trembling so violently at her sides she could feel her nails biting into her palms. Her chest heaved, her breath shallow and uneven. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to move, to follow you, to grab your hand and beg for forgiveness.

She wanted to run after you, to stop you before you disappeared into the night. She wanted to scream your name, to throw herself at your feet and tell you it was all a mistake, that she only loved you. You. Always you.

But she couldn't move. She was frozen, locked in place by her own fear, her own shame.

And you walked out.

The sound of the front door clicking shut in the distance echoed like a death knell in her ears. Tara felt the walls closing in around her, the party suddenly too loud, too bright, too much. And yet, all she could do was stand there, watching the spot where you'd been, her chest hollow and her heart splintering apart.

She had lost you. And it was her fault.

Tara was left staring at the place you just stood, knowing she'd just destroyed the one thing that ever felt like home.

[pshbites]

PILLOW TALK ━ pjs

pairing : fiance!jay x fem!reader genre : est. relationship, pure FLUFF!! warnings : none! synopsis : after a long day of work you and your loving doting fiance lay in bed and have a conversation about the future wc : 0.9k a/n : muahahahah i just wanted to put this out bc i enjoy feeding u guys.... ENJOY!

if u enjoyed pls like & reblog, feedback is always appreciated!!

you shut the front door behind you, frowning slightly at the living room light still being on, which signified jay was awake. you walked over, seeing him on the couch mindlessly typing on his laptop. “oh baby, you’re home. i didn’t hear you come in” he smiled up at you, sliding away his laptop. “why are you awake, i told you not to wait up” you sighed, setting your purse on the coffee table and taking a seat next to him, him immediately pulling you into him to rest your head on his shoulder. 

“sorry love, i was just doing some planning” he said, stroking your hair. you sighed, intertwining your fingers with his. ever since jay had proposed it seemed most of his time was taken up in planning this wedding. if it weren’t for you, jay would’ve gotten married at a church the very next morning. that shows how eager he is to make you his wife. 

“‘s okay baby, let’s wash up okay?” you sat up, your head off his shoulder and now your hand cupping his face. he looked in your eyes and nodded, pecking your lips before standing up from the couch. the two of you walked to your shared bedroom and bathroom, beginning your nightly routines side by side. 

you and jay had been living together prior to the engagement and not once did either of you regret it. of course there were some days where it was frustrating that you worked long hours and jay worked from home, but either way you both were comfortable with one another and that meant including 24/7. 

jay shut the bathroom lights as he walked behind you to the bed that you were already laying on. jay walked to the other side and laid on the bed, getting under the covers along with you. you turned to him and smiled, as if asking to lay on his chest and he nodded, opening his arms for you. 

you laid on his chest and smiled as he began to stroke and play with your hair. “what were you planning?” you mumbled, breaking the silence in the room. “i was checking out some venues” he sighed, twirling your hair around his fingers. “we haven’t even decided a location yet babe” you laughed a little and he furrowed his brows. “yeah i know i was looking in popular spots, there’s this place in edinburgh i think you’d like” he replied making you frown a little. 

“you know park jongseong, it's your wedding too” you said his full name, in a mocking way. “i’m well aware yln yn” he teased back, making you laugh. “then start acting like it!” you slapped his chest lightly, eliciting a small yet playful ‘ow’ from him. jay sighed and continued to play with your hair in every way, “you know whatever you like, i like. i wanna make this perfect for you” he confessed, sighing out. you sat up, turning to look at him.

“babe, i promise, i don’t need so much. i have you and our friends and family, that’s what perfect means to me” you played with the edges of his shirt, looking into his eyes. he nodded, reaching to hold your hands in his. “i know, but what you like is important to me so just let me do this” he rubbed your hands in his, smiling. you looked into his eyes and sighed out, “fine fine, but as long as you like it as well” you agreed reluctantly, laying back down on his chest. 

jay went back to your hair, continuing to play with it as his other hand went to rest on your waist, rubbing it softly. the two of you laid in silence like that for a while, the sound of his heartbeat calming you down after a long day of work. “does this mean i should schedule our cake tasting?” jay mumbled, making you laugh against his chest. you felt his chest bubble with giggles as well. “yes you can” you said, making him smile and nod, pulling you closer. 

you looked down at your own hand next to his, coincidentally both of your rings on display. his plain band and your engagement ring. you smiled softly, rotating it on your finger, playing with it. “you know i was thinking” you said, making jay hum in response. “we could order our cake from that bakery we both like, you know the one-“ “we went to after our first date, i remember” he smiled, looking down at you. “i like that idea,” you smiled, looking up at him slightly. 

jay smiled down at you and kissed your forehead, making you close your eyes and smile. “i love you” you said once he pulled back slightly and he only smiled back “i love you too my love” you sighed, cuddling up closer to him if that was even possible. maybe this was one of the reasons you loved jay so much, his need to always love you regardless. sometimes that was all you needed. 

you sighed against his chest, your eyes starting to shut slightly. “you sleepy?” jay mumbled, still stroking your hair. it was causing you to fall asleep, you knew that, he knew that. “yeah but i wanna talk to you more, i haven’t seen you all day” “it’s okay, we have the rest of our lives” jay sighed out, his words making you smile. it was true, you did have the rest of your lives together. the thought of this lulled both of you to sleep, assured you weren’t missing anything. 

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[hero-israel]

How very Christian of you.

No, really. This is indistinguishable from the faith - the eager faith - for the Rapture to come and uncreate the modern world so no one will need to actually deal with its problems and disappointments anymore. You see this in apocalypse prepper communities - the sense of giddy anticipation for a fresh start in the New Year One.

"What would Israel do without Western support?" In its most serious battles it had none. In 1948 they had no allies and were armed only with surplus smuggled out of Czechoslovakia. The UK trained and equipped and sent soldiers to Transjordan, not Israel. During the Six Day War, America had Israel under total arms embargo and France refused to deliver weapons Israel had already paid for. Israel had ceded Sinai back to Egypt in 1957 under a U.N. promise to protect them if Egypt ever invaded, and then when Egypt began its invasion and naval blockade, there was no help of any kind.

With that total isolation and comparative weakness, Israel still BTFO organized enemy alliances - several times. What precisely is the "weight of the neighbors," mostly 3rd- and 4th-world failed states, that is supposedly going to hit Israel in this day and age? Jordan, one of the world's fakest and flimsiest countries, relies on Israel for water and security. Egypt is not going to do anything to jeopardize its considerable U.S. financial support negotiated at Camp David. Who else, the Holy Roman Empire - er, excuse me, "Syria", another defunct name from the past? Iran is a threat, but by no means a passive one, and if a shooting war is what you are counting on to make Israel go away, you don't get to pretend to disapprove of Hitler. Sorry, I didn't make the rules.

You can rest assured that Israel has long been examining the possibility that America might dissolve like the USSR did. They have been cultivating close relationships with India and the Pacific "tiger economies." In general, most countries are not fond of Islamic terrorism and are much more interested in military technology and healthcare, and Israel can offer them that. Even IF America did cut some strings, it isn't the 1950s anymore - Israel can build its own indigenous (lol) military assets, look up the IAI Lavi jet program and what forced its suspension. You can't get much more globally isolated and BDS'ed than Cuba and North Korea have been for several generations now, and they seem to be enduring it. After they both collapse, let's re-examine Israel's prospects.

P.S. - there is no genocide, apartheid, or colonialism either, but that's just campus chant doggerel, I wanted to mostly address the new material.

why are jews skeptical of antizionism? a guide for gentiles

I'd be ok with the notion Israel wasn't needed if y'all could be trusted not to fuck it up when Jews needed somewhere to flee. But last time (to put it politely) you fucked it up real bad, and six million Jews died.

Fundamentally, antizionism is asking Jews to put our lives in the hands of the same people who saw us screaming for help, who knew that death awaited us, and did all of nothing. Nada. Nil.

(As demonstrated by the recent Amsterdam pogrom, Israel is totally ok and often proactive in flying Jews out. Around the same time as Palestinians were being exiled, Jews from all over the Arab world were being driven out in similar numbers. The reason you don't hear about that refugee crisis? Israel accepted them, without complaint or delay or objection, just urgency.)

Pardon us for being a bit skeptical of your assertions that it won't happen again when a constant theme throughout our history has been it happening again.

This is a slightly modified form of an older, longer, post's tags/tldr.

[becauseimswagman1]

Temporary

Roman Reigns x reader

Warnings: THAT NASTY 18+ SO MDNI, spanking, usage of "good girl". dirty talk, mild masturbation, daddy kink, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!), cum swallowing, pussy eating

----------------------------

“Listen, that woman at the gym doesn’t mean anything! She’s just a trainer.” he pleaded with you as you tried to escape his arms.

“Joe, we’re done!”, you pushed out of his hold and walked towards the bedroom you two shared. Every time you put clothes in your suitcase, he took them right back out. He doesn’t want you to leave.

The woman at the gym really is just a trainer, she just overstepped her boundaries even after he told her he had a girlfriend. You’re one of the best things that ever happened to him ever since he got seriously hurt two years ago. 

“How can we be done? You’re not even hearing me out!” he grabbed you by your hands and kissed both of them, “I love you, and only you. You’re the woman I want to marry and the woman I want to be the mother of my children. Baby, please. Don’t leave. We can work this out.”

“Joe…” You wanted to believe his words so badly and you did, but there was something in the back of your mind that wouldn’t let you lean into it fully, “I need a break. You let that bitch into your space, close enough to put her lips on you.”

Joe couldn’t hold back the scowl on his face as he dropped your hands, “A break.” he scoffed, “Okay. Take your break, take all the time you need actually. Just promise me that this isn’t the end of us.” Cupping your face in his large hands and staring into your eyes, “Promise me.”

You made the mistake of letting a tear fall, he wiped it away just as quickly though. He was always there to wipe your tears, but this time you needed to dry them on your own. 

“This isn’t the end. I can’t tell you when I’ll be back, but I will.” you finished packing some of your things, and then you left. 

This was something you two could work through. You saw the entire thing with miss girl at the gym, pushing up on your man. You weren’t gonna break things off with him. The problem was with the reaction Joe had. You don’t know if he was in shock and couldn’t believe she did it or what, but him not immediately pushing her off and giving her the cursing of a lifetime pissed you off. He didn’t kiss her back, but seeing with your own eyes that he just let it happen made you wanna fight something. She had been lucky you were feeling classy. So, you needed space. Just enough to figure yourself out. 

----------TWO WEEKS LATER -------

The break had gone on longer than either of you expected. Thankfully the media hadn’t caught onto the way the two of you were never seen together. 

The first week of the break was full of Joe texting you nonstop, ensuring you were safe. The second week, you started worrying as you got a call from Josh telling you that he had started to miss sessions at the gym and snap at him and the other wrestlers for trying to talk to him. You knew Joe wouldn’t miss a session and even snap at them out of actual anger, so you decided to check in on him. 

When you got to the house you shared, Joe’s car wasn’t there so you let yourself in. There were empty bottles thrown everywhere and the picture frame of y’all’s first anniversary was broken. You felt that he would be sad, but not like this. And you knew this sadness would turn into anger soon enough because you knew he felt like he couldn’t talk to you or anyone about this.

You had thought over the situation and it truly wasn’t enough to ruin an amazing relationship. You were ready to come back and really talk things out and get back to how things were and be better. 

As you were attempting to pick up the bottles while avoiding the small amounts of glass, you got an alert on your phone. It was one of Joe’s friends posting about how “The Tribal Chief” would be in the club tonight. If that’s how he wanted to play then you’d do it too, but of course, better. 

Later that night, you called up your girls and told them what happened. They agreed with your plan to show up at the club and get your man back. It was nine-thirty when you showed up and nine-thirty-one when he noticed you in one of his favorite dresses. The short strapless one that practically left nothing to imagination if you leaned over slightly. It looked like you weren’t checking for him, but you clocked him, and the bitches he had flocking on him like some birds. 

You and your friends got a booth and ordered bottles. The night was honestly going great, you kept your eyes on Joe and vice versa. You were getting ready to walk over to him so you two could leave together until one of them chickenheads started dancing on him and he wasn’t trying to push her away. 

“Two could play that game, Joe.” you thought as you went over to a group of guys and asked the cutest one to dance. Short-haired guys weren’t your type, but it’s not like you were trying to take him home.

Joe saw y’all but he wasn’t worried. You know where home is and so does he, but he’s petty so he was letting the girls dance on him. He knew you were putting on a facade when dancing on this random dude. He also knew once the guy overstepped your boundaries, you’d go off on him. He learned that the hard way, sometimes his jaw still hurt with how hard you punched him the first night y’all met. 

The song that played was coming to an end, he knew you never danced to more than one song at a time. Something about you always wearing heels that looked cute but not cute enough to wear for a prolonged period of time. He saw you turn away from the guy and bid him goodbye, but the guy held your arm. The guy wasn’t getting the hint. Joe wasn’t going to step in, he knew you could handle yourself so he let it play out a little. 

This guy wasn’t letting up, he was gripping your arm and pulling you close to him despite your protest. You were getting upset and ready to put him on his ass until he pulled you so close that he kissed your neck. Joe was over there in an instant.

“Yo, let go of my woman!” he quickly got between you and him, standing up straight to make himself appear bigger, “I know she asked you to let her go, so why didn’t you? Thinking you was gone dance your way into not just some pussy but her pussy. Bruh, back up. That shit belongs to me.”

The guy sucked his teeth, “She ain’t even worth it. Just some random bitch to me. And her pussy belong to you? Seems like it belongs to everybody that wants some. Look at how she dressed. How you let your “woman” walk out the house dressed like a h-” the guy was cut off by Joe knocking his ass out. 

“Let’s go.” was all he spoke before walking towards the exit. You quickly followed behind him after grabbing your purse from the table where your friends watched everything go down.

The car ride home was silent. This was the anger you knew was coming after the sadness. You just didn’t know it would’ve been brought on like this. Joe wasn’t the violent type outside the ring, so to see him put his hands on someone really shocked you. As soon as you two entered the house, you were pushed against the door and kissed like somebody’s life depended on it. To Joe, it was his. 

He pulled away and said words you weren’t expecting, “I’m sorry.” 

You were expecting him to completely fix this with sex since that’s how you two fixed problems in the past, but this was a different type of problem.

You put a hand on his cheek, “It’s okay baby.” It was okay, you had sort of moved on. Sure, you still wished he had reacted differently but he was your baby. You missed him. 

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve pushed her off. I was surprised that she got the idea that she could do that, especially after I told her about you. That doesn’t excuse what happened, though. If it makes you feel any better, the guy that owns the place fired that girl for unprofessionalism.”

That did make you feel better and you tried to hold it in, but damn did it feel good, “Oh hell yeah! I know that’s right.”

Joe moved his hands from your face down to your waist, “Now hold on, I’m the one that asked him to fire her.”

“Yeahhh,” you put your hands around his neck and leaned up to his face, “but he took action when you should’ve.”

“So that’s how you’re gonna play it?”, he picked you up and put you over his shoulder, “Now I’m gonna fuck you up for two things.”

“Wha– Joe? What the hell?!” 

“Fucking you up for letting that guy at the club get that close to you. You put me on my ass upon first meet so why was it so hard to do that with him? And I’m fucking you up for discrediting me on getting that girl fired.”

Was the second one petty? Hell yeah, but this is Joe you’re dealing with. The petty king.

He carries you to the bedroom, smacking your ass whenever you pinched his, and tossed you on the bed. 

“Get in position.” 

You knew what that meant, so you quickly got on your hands and knees. He pulled your dress up and saw the thong you had on. He bit his lip, “Damn baby, you must’ve known you was gonna get some tonight huh?”

“No, it’s just the only panties I could wear with this dress.”

He smirked, “Liar. Now count like the good girl I know you are.”

A loud smack echoed in the room, “One.” you had whispered it and that wasn’t good enough for him. 

“Louder or I fuck you until I get off and I leave you here begging.”

“One!” 

“That’s better. Now keep that up. Ten more should do just fine right?”

“Yes.”

He slaps your ass again, coming down on your right cheek, harder than the first.

‘Two!” 

Only two smacks in and he could see a wet spot form on the small fabric covering your pussy, “My baby getting wet already? From two smacks at that. I’ve seen and felt you get wetter for less so this isn’t that much of a shock.”

Nine painfully arousing smacks later, your ass was deep red and you were soaking through your panties. He ripped your panties off and rubbed through your wetness, “So wet for me.”

You nodded your head and arched your back just as you knew he liked it. 

“Play with it. Get it creamy for me.”

You did as told, truly playing with yourself. Slapping your clit, dipping your fingers inside your hole then sucking the juices off, really giving him a show. He let you do what you wished until he saw the signs that you were going to come. 

He slapped your ass once more to stop you, “Take your fingers out.” Once you did, he sucked the juices off. “Mm, you taste so good, baby.”

“Are you gonna fuck me now?”

“In a bit. Be patient.” He bent down to taste you right from the source, drowning himself in how wet you were. Flicking your clit with his tongue, drawing the lewdest sounds from you. He started to fuck you with his tongue while rubbing your clit with his thumb, “Come for me, baby. Be a good girl and come. Daddy wants to taste you even more.”

Your thighs started shaking and it was getting tougher to hold yourself up, “Ooh fuck! Joe! I’m coming!” and just like the feeling was gone, he had edged you because of a careless mistake. 

“What’s my name? Say it again for me?” he said while rubbing your clit with a little more pressure. 

“D-Daddy!” 

“Mhm, that’s right.” He pinched your clit a little and went back to rubbing it, applying the same pressure he was before. “Baby girl wants to be good right? Be good and let it all out.”

You started to grind against his fingers like it almost wasn’t enough. Joe knew what you needed, you just needed to come first so he could give it to you how you deserved. 

“Fuckkkk,” you dragged out your words, “Don’t stop. Pleaseee, don’t stop.” 

He rubbed you a little faster and you came with “Daddy” never ceasing from your lips. 

“That’s a good girl,” he rubbed you softly until your thighs stopped shaking, “You ready for daddy now?”

“Mhm.” 

He sat up behind you and undressed, then pulled you back to the edge of the bed still on your hands and knees so you wouldn’t have anywhere to run.

Rubbing a hand in between your legs and rubbing the wetness he collected from your against his dick. “So fucking wet baby.” he pushed his tip in and you were already running from it. “Nah baby, I ain’t even all the way in yet. Stop all that running.”

He gripped your hips and pushed himself in fully. “Damn, you tight. I love this pussy baby. Don’t ever second guess that.” 

He started to move, slowly at first, but soon enough he was pounding into you. Showing you that you belonged to him and only him. 

“Oh, fuckkkk yes. Right there, Daddy!”

“Right there?” he started angling his hips to hit that spot, “I’m hitting that spot huh?”

“Mhmmm, yes. Harder please.”

He listened to you and went harder, but you reached back and tried to push him away. His strokes almost became too much. 

“Nah, baby don’t run from it. Take it like I know you can.” he rubbed the middle of your back, “Put that arch back. Take this dick.”

You started clenching around him, feeling your orgasm approach you suddenly, “Daddy... fuckk I’m gonna come!”

“Daddy’s right behind you. Come for me, baby.”

He didn’t stop fucking into you when you came, he just slowed down enough to give it to you deep.

“Fuck, keep squeezing me like that,” he pulled out and stroked himself at a fast pace, “come catch your prize.” He helped you flip over and he stood up on the bed to come on your face.

“Shit, open that mouth, wide baby.” He kept stroking until he came, most of it landing in your mouth. When you swallowed, you licked the remaining substance off his dick. 

He pulled you off by your hair, “Lemme see.”

You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, showing him that you swallowed and there was nothing left. 

“That’s a good girl,” he leaned down to kiss you, tongue and all, “Now let’s get cleaned up.” 

A relaxing bath later, you and Joe were lying in towels on the bed. You were ready to fall asleep, worn out after what felt like the fuck of your life. Joe had so much energy left. 

Sleepily, you moved into his arms, “How are you not dead tired right now?”

“It’ll pass. Just need to calm down a little. Still keyed up after tonight.”

“Okay. Well, I’m tired.” you yawned right after the words left your mouth. 

Joe chuckled, “I can tell. Go to sleep, I’ll be in dreamland with you shortly.”

All you could do was a little “mhm” before you fell asleep, surely going to dream about all the dirty things that’s gonna happen in the morning. Whenever Joe has this much energy when he falls asleep it’s gonna lead to a very good morning. 

“I love you, baby,” he whispered into your hair then kissed your forehead, “And I know you love me too.” 

He cuddled up to you and fell asleep.

---------------

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[milkteabinniechan]

♡Tongue in Cheek - Yang Jeongin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: CEO jeongin x fem! reader

summary: your boss is up for a big promotion. There's just one problem, he told his boss that he's married. So he asks you to be his wife for just one night. But now this cold CEO is seeing you in a whole new light.

warnings: power dynamics, tooth-aching fluff, angst, kissing, did I mention fluff????

Jeongin slid a few papers around his desk. “Something you need?” He snapped, his tone exhausted and annoyed. His patience was wearing thin lately. You had noticed immediately, the way he moved around the office like every corner and seam of his heavy armor was starting to crack. He was stressed, he was nervous. You suppose that's why you agreed to this dinner in the first place. To help him out. That was the only reason you had agreed to be his “fake wife.”

“Sorry to bother you, Sir. But Mr. Kwon’s assistant called again to confirm that you- um, that we would be attending the dinner tomorrow evening.” You kept your eyes downcast, studying every fiber of his office carpet. A deep, intimidating red color that filled the entire room like an inferno. It's as if he wanted everyone that walked into his office to know that they were walking into Hell.

“Tell her that we'll be there at eight sharp. I want you dressed nicely. Take my card and buy yourself something expensive.” Jeongin's hand stretched out to reveal a heavy platinum credit card weaved between his fingers. You took a step forward but hesitated, your mouth parting slightly. Jeongin's eyes flashed up to you, his head still hanging down. “No arguments, just do it.”

And that was that. Because if Yang Jeongin told you to do something, then goddamn it, you better do it.

The night of the dinner was chiller than you had anticipated. The sun was going down sooner and sooner and cold air swept you up and pulled you inside of Jeongin's luxury car. It was warm inside with plush seats that hugged you better than your own mother. Was this what money could buy? You casually glanced at Jeongin's hand gripping the expensive leather of the steering wheel. He was wearing a shiny silver bracelet and a large, heavy looking ring on his middle finger. He had told you once that the ring was lucky and he would only wear it when he really, really needed it. Jeongin kept his eyes fixed on the road, focused and determined even in his driving. But soon his deep voice cut through the building tension. “Mr. Kwon is the man to impress, the man to be, the man to beat. But he is put off by the fact that I never settled down to start a family. He thinks it's abnormal for a man my age to not have someone.”

You kept your mouth closed tight. You agreed with Jeongin's boss, it was abnormal. Jeongin was young, attractive, and successful. So why hadn't he found someone? As if sensing your train of thought, he cocked his head towards you and raised an eyebrow. “It's not like I don't fuck, I just don't have time for a relationship.”

A relationship. He said that word like it was poison on his tongue. The two of you pulled into the long driveway of a sprawling manor you had only seen in magazines. The path was lined with lights and led you both to a towering front door that was painted the most intense red you had ever seen. You were starting to understand where Jeongin was getting his business inspiration. You stepped inside to see dinner already being set.

Five course meal. Five courses. There were nights when all you could afford was a cup of ramen and a few beers. This was how the other half lived. Mr. Kwon and his wife were both incredibly gorgeous. To look at them too long almost felt greedy. Mr. Kwon commented on Jeongin's cufflinks and his wife absolutely adored your dress. You found it easy to converse with her. A simple, sweet woman who meant well but was so detached from the real world that she was living in her own little fairytale. Jeongin and you had discussed a background story for how you met and what your wedding day was like in case anyone had asked. And to no one's surprise, Mrs. Kwon wanted to know every detail.

After a few glasses of champagne, you found yourself gushing about Jeongin. You spoke about his gentle demeanor when his mother or siblings call. You talked about his smell and the first time you knew you were in love with him.

Jeongin sat back in his chair and watched you. He watched you diverge from the previously discussed storyline that the two of you agreed on. He listened as you spoke honestly about your feelings and your ambitions and goals for the future. He felt a clench in his chest that he hadn't felt in years. You seemed to almost have a glow around you when you spoke. As if the roof opened up to let moonlight pour down over your entire body. And the dress you chose. Jeongin finally allowed himself a moment to admire and memorize every curve and dip of your waist and legs. He could feel his $300 slacks growing tighter by the second. Mr. Kwon stood from the table and announced that the men should adjourn to the other room for cigars and brandy. Jeongin let out a sigh of relief and quickly stood to follow the rest of the men but before he could leave you grabbed his hand and kissed his cheek. “Miss you already.” You said with a smile loud enough that the rest of the guests could hear. You gave him a quick wink before dropping his hand and returning to the dinner table.

“You got a good one there, Yang.” Mr. Kwon let out a large puff of smoke from his cigar. “Don't fuck this up. She's good for you.”

Jeongin fiddled with his own cigar, still unlit. He weaved it between his fingers. “Yes, Sir.” His mind was a million miles away. You have worked for him for three years now. He still remembers the day he hired you. The outfit you wore, the messy bun with frazzled strands of hair falling in front of your eyes. You were so nervous. But you were determined. He recognized that fire in your eyes. It was the same fire that burned inside him.

“Thank you for tonight. You were very convincing.” Jeongin had driven you back to your one bedroom apartment. You stood in the single step in front of your front door. You were actually eye-level with him now, your face just inches from his. “You're welcome. It was fun.” You confessed. You liked being a part of his world. Jeongin cleared his throat and smiled. An awkward, unsure smile that you weren't used to seeing. He gave you a polite bow and turned towards his car to leave. You felt a heaviness pull at your heart as he started to walk away. But before he got to the street he stopped. He turned on his heels to face you once again, his unsure smile now transforming into a devilish smirk. “The night isn't over. Technically, you're still my wife.” He took a few steps towards you. “Kiss me.”

The heaviness in your chest now felt like a balloon soaring high as you ran towards him without hesitation. You jumped into his arms and he held your leg with one hand and used his other arm to wrap around your waist, holding you close to him. Your lips crashed into his clumsily. Your mouths falling over each other until you slowly found a rhythm. It was the most romantic moment of your entire life and you never wanted it to stop. You kissed him over and over again. Some were slow and lingering while others were needy and impatient. You kissed him. Because if Yang Jeongin tells you to do something, then goddamn it, you better do it.

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