#dry lip solutions
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blaire-apricity · 2 months ago
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Lip balm
ʟᴀᴅs ʙᴏʏs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
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ᯓ❅ ┆ synopsis┆ : Chapped lips are always a hassle, but you found a solution to it.
ᯓ❅ ┆ tags┆ : short fiction, soft, fluff & possible OOC
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𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫
You grumbled softly at the uncomfortable sensation of your dry lips. It had been a constant problem lately. Fortunately, you always carried a chapstick with you. You shifted slightly from Xavier’s warm embrace, where you had been cuddling, and his eyes followed you, curious. As you rummaged through your bag, he silently observed your movements with a calm fascination.
Pulling out the chapstick, you removed the cap, the pop sound breaking the silence of the room. You applied it slowly, biting and plucking your lips gently to ensure the balm spread evenly. When you turned back, you found Xavier watching you intently, his eyes filled with a curious softness, as if he were studying something new. He looked almost childlike in that moment, an adorable curiosity lighting up his features, which made you chuckle.
Returning to his side, you snuggled back into his arms, and he welcomed you without hesitation, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you in closer, his warmth enveloping you again.
“What was that?” he asked, a hint of curiosity lingering in his tone.
“Lip balm,” you replied casually, looking up at him with a playful smile. “For dry lips.”
He nodded thoughtfully, his usual composed expression softening as he mused. That’s when you noticed his own lips, slightly cracked at the edges. “You’ve got some dry lips too,” you pointed out, mimicking the motion on your own lips.
Xavier blinked, touching his bottom lip absentmindedly. You reached for the chapstick again but paused, a mischievous idea forming.
“Xavier,” you called, drawing his attention with a sly tone. He looked at you, still innocently curious, and you cupped his cheeks gently. Leaning in, your lips met his in a soft kiss, the balm transferring smoothly onto his lips.
When you pulled away, you couldn’t hide your triumphant smirk. His reaction was priceless—his ears turned a faint shade of red, and a soft blush crept over his cheeks. He blinked a few times, his gaze softening as he smiled at you, as if you had just made him fall for you all over again.
“Again,” he whispered, his voice even softer than before.
“What—”
“Kiss me again.”
. . ────────────── ❅ ⁺.
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𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞
“Ugh… my lips are cracked again,” you groaned in frustration. The cold, rainy weather lately had done a number on your skin, especially your lips. It was becoming annoyingly routine.
Zayne, sitting at his desk reviewing surgical documents, sighed softly at your complaint. Without looking up, he shook his head in mild exasperation. “You should drink more water. Hydration is key.”
You pouted at his statement, knowing full well you’d been drinking plenty. “I do drink enough,” you countered, unconsciously licking your lips, which brought a brief but welcome relief.
Zayne glanced up at you from his papers, his sigh a bit louder this time. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a tube of lip balm and handed it to you. “Don’t lick your lips. When the saliva dries, it’ll make things worse.”
Accepting the balm, you stared at him, your eyes narrowing as they landed on his lips. “Wait, do you usually use this stuff?” you asked, a little surprised.
“I do,” he answered simply, his attention shifting back to his documents. You couldn’t help but notice how smooth and slightly glistening his lips looked, a fact that made you impulsively want to lean in and kiss him. You leaned forward slightly, but Zayne was quick, placing a firm hand on your shoulder before you could close the distance.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone calm but knowing.
Caught in the act, you huffed in mock annoyance, retreating with a playful pout. “I wanted to kiss you since you’ve already got balm on your lips…” Your voice trailed off, a little embarrassed by your boldness.
Zayne didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he set his papers aside, cupping your cheek with one hand as he expertly uncapped the balm with the other. He applied it to your lips with a gentle touch, the cool sensation of the balm contrasting with the warmth of his hand.
Just when you thought it was over, he finished applying the balm, then leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The kiss was tender, yet it left your heart racing, as if it had been your first kiss all over again.
“There,” he murmured, pulling away, the corner of his lips curling into a faint smile. You were certain you’d melt into a puddle right there on the spot.
. . ────────────── ❅ ⁺.
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𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥
“Rafayel! You need to put some lip balm on, your lips are cracking,” you said, arms crossed as you lightly scolded the ever-dramatic mermaid.
He huffed in response, crossing his own arms in an exaggerated manner and turning away from you with a sharp flick of his hair. “No! I’ve never used that stuff, and I don’t plan on starting now. You’re my bodyguard, not my nanny!”
It was impossible not to laugh at his theatrics. Most of the time, you felt more like you were babysitting him than anything else, whether you were on duty or spending time together outside of work.
Rafayel narrowed his gaze when he heard your chuckle. “Are you laughing at me?” he asked, a suspicious edge to his tone.
“Not at all,” you said with a smile that betrayed your denial. “But seriously, if you don’t use something, your lips will start bleeding.” You held out a tube of chapstick, but he shook his head vehemently.
“I’ll survive,” he retorted, turning his head stubbornly.
You rolled your eyes and opened the tube, stepping closer. He backed away immediately, like a startled cat. “I don’t need it!”
“You do!” you insisted, gripping his chin gently, but he kept squirming and moving, making it impossible to apply the balm. You probably smeared it on his cheek at this point.
“Stay still!” you laughed, struggling to keep up with his evasive maneuvers.
“No!” he whined dramatically, but you had a trump card. Without warning, you leaned in and kissed him, catching him completely off guard. His eyes widened, and he froze in place as your lips met his, allowing you to finally apply the balm.
Pulling back, you smirked and gave him another quick peck. “See? Now your lips are nice and smooth whenever I kiss you.”
Rafayel was left speechless, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He blinked, clearly malfunctioning from the surprise kiss.
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𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬
Sylus chuckled as he examined your collection of lip balms, spread across the bedside table. His deep voice resonated in the room, a soft echo in the intimate setting. “Why do you need so many different lip balms?”
You were lying on your stomach, scrolling through your phone, only half-listening. “In case I lose one,” you said nonchalantly, barely glancing up.
“Uh-huh,” Sylus drawled, clearly amused. “And you need two extra pairs?”
“They smell different,” you added, more engaged in your screen than the conversation. When you finally glanced up, you saw him inspecting the melon-flavored balm you used most often.
He twisted off the cap, raising it to his nose. “Smells like melon, all right,” he commented.
“Don’t you use one?” you asked, tilting your head as you studied him.
Sylus raised an eyebrow, leaning against the edge of the bed. “Not really,” he replied smoothly. His eyes flickered with interest as he glanced at your lips. “What flavor are you wearing now?”
“Strawberry, I think?” you replied, a bit unsure. You touched your lips, trying to catch the scent.
Sylus smirked at your uncertainty. “Why don’t you try tasting it?”
Your brows furrowed, about to respond when Sylus leaned in, pressing his lips to yours before you could say another word. His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his tongue darted out, grazing your bottom lip.
The kiss took your breath away. When he pulled back, his signature smirk was firmly in place. “You’re right,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “There’s no taste.”
Your lips tingled, and you could only stare at him, still processing what had just happened. Sylus motioned to his own lips, now coated with your chapstick. “Guess I use lip balm now too.”
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╰。 Author's Note: I had this idea for a while now HAHA, glad to have written it off. For once, I didn't stumble much on Zayne's part actually. Also I apologize for the different blog designs (especially my pinned post) but I was trying to keep the designs more minimal since at some websites and especially in phones there's some symbols that can't be seen. I hope I eliminated that one.
I probably should work more on my tags as well.
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anantaru · 9 months ago
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— comforting you on a bad day
including — scaramouche, wriothesley, alhaitham, childe x gn! reader
genre — fluff, hurt -> comfort
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— scaramouche
scaramouche finds you sitting on the couch, burying your face into your hands.
easy to see, he knew you must've had a bad day or that something inconvenient must've happen to you— and unquestionably, he feels a slight function of heartache when you're suddenly pulling your head up to look at him walk towards you, gloom settling on his countenance.
scaramouche doesn't say anything at first, he doesn't want to make you overwhelmed or like you had to talk about it, it was up to you if you wanted of course. but it was interesting to see how dependable he was on your happiness, because the man detested seeing your smile fade, he'd do anything to bring it back— as soon as you're sad, unahappy or dejected, he's beginning to feel it with you.
he was angry— bend out of his usual shape because he cannot find a quick solution to this, he just doesn't want to see you covered in a gloomy mask.
however, instead of resorting back to his past methods of handling situations such as those, especially the ones that come close to his own emotions, scaramouche decides to take a seat right next to you before placing his hand on his knee, but with his palm facing up— you see, as if to invite you to take it.
hopefully you do.
"you're quiet," he inquires shortly after, tilting his head to look at you, "on any other day, you'd greet me the moment i walk through that door," he purses his lips a little, the hand on his knee quietly turning impatient, like he's scared you won't take it— or even worse, what if he's the reason you felt this way?
troubled, scaramouche proceeds to look at you, and it might not come across like it since it can be quite difficult for him to show his proper feelings— but he'd do anything for you right now, if there's something he could do in order for your smile to appear again, he'd do it without batting an eye.
his throat lets go of a dry sigh when you take his hand sweetly before resting your head against his shoulder, holding your breath as you exhale through a crumbling heave.
scaramouche's grip on you tightens, "who did this to you?" he decides to ask, his voice growing an octave louder, ultimately signalizing the despair he felt from seeing you like this, "is there someone who made you feel this way? someone i should be aware of?" scaramouche had to know if there was a third party that was involved and most importantly, responsible for this— if so, you could easily leave it to him to take care of it.
you sniffle, the grip your hand had on his palm strengthening, "no one, it's just me," you embarrassingly rub your cheek against his shoulder as he leans back into the couch so you could make yourself more comfortable, "i just had a bad day, that's all," and as badly as your eyes wanted to flutter shut, you were frightened to do so due to possible tears dousing your cheeks.
for some reason, you didn't want him to see you cry— despite the fact that you would never be judged nor laughed at by him.
the man loves you dearly, he could tell the entire world about it— draw warm and tender words on a pavement blossoming with roses. it's truly a magical feeling, turning to dizzying deeds and actions when he gets to kiss and hug you, touch and caress you.
scaramouche whispers your name softly when he slowly runs his thumb to circle around your hand, "hey, you don't have to be sad anymore," at his sentence, you curiously turn your head up as best as you can when his eyes flitter down at you.
"i mean, since i'm back from the akademiya now, we can spend all night together," you make a hum of appreciation before shifting yourself into him so you're lying as close to your boyfriend as possible, "—besides," scaramouche continues as he rests his head against yours, his mind and spirit soothing yours, "if someone is, in fact, responsible for your sadness, i might need to take care of something else first."
you chuckle, believing he's joking before opting to peck his cheek as at the same time, he pulls you in for a proper kiss— ah well, how sweet, you're smiling now, he can sense it as denseness lifts from your shoulders.
strongly invaded by a warm cradle around your whole face, scaramouche silently takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, "i told you," he sternly reminds you, whispering his words as his brows narrowed, the muscles in your face beginning to soften upon receiving his homely touch.
"i won't let anyone or anything sadden you, doesn't matter what it is, i will make sure you're being taken care of."
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— wriothesley
you do not move an inch, your body hemmed in a draining blanket that fueled a negative spot in your heart, but do not be mistaken because within this cold, you can feel the warmth of wriothesley's love all the more.
you're like a sheet of glass right now, utterly still, eyes open as if gazing into a dark hole, unable to move a single muscle by how challenging this day had been for you.
as soon as he shrouds your body against his arms and pushes you into his chest, your eyes are glazed in warm liquid that cover the majority of your cheeks, slowly eating away at your skin. your boyfriend doesn't mind when you're crying in front of him, quite the reverse actually, he sees it as you trusting him so much, that you're willing to be vulnerable in front of him.
as soon as he kisses your forehead in reassurance, the force of the impact your emotions have caused on your mental state lift a little, paired with your general feelings resulting in you stumbling forward into his embrace, your hands clumsily scrambling at his jacket as you sniffle into his chest.
in your relationship you didn't need to hide your raw emotions, not only would wriothesley see through you right away, but it's, bluntly saying, pointless to do that in the first place. the man knows that in this moment in time, he needs to be there for you, and he doesn't expect you to be happy and positive all the time.
yet seeing you like this feels like losing a limb, because you're completing wriothesley in a way, you're like a puzzle piece fixing his heart— the fear of being unable to help you, give you what you need was scrambling into his body and mind, and if you ultimately sought after it, the duke would gladly destroy anything to make you happy, including himself.
"sorry, am i being too much?" you sniffle out before rubbing your eyes to get rid of the blur, honestly clueless as to why you're apologizing in the first place, "i think you must've expected our date to turn out differently," you continue, it was all you could shove past the heavy lump in your throat. you're holding yourself on a single thread, deep breathes and hefty swallows, your soft fingers slipping beneath the back of his neck.
wriothesley smiled, feeling the pull of it behind his heart, he disliked whenever you were apologizing for things you cannot control, not to mention when they were so human too.
"not at all, do not say that," he answers, holding you close, "you will never be able to be too much for me," he promises as he sighs out, one last octave teasing the following as his lips slowly move with a warm tenderness on your forehead once he places a kiss on you.
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— alhaitham
alhaitham will not touch you, yes, he will sit next to you and offer a shoulder for you to lean on if you so seek it, but he will not begin to speak first nor say anything at all— wether it's questioning your current state or beginning to somehow figure it out on his own.
instead, he just listens to you.
you can talk to your boyfriend about everything, he does not care if it's pointless gossip you've overheard the other day, or you talking about this new, exciting hobby you found or like now, something that has pulled and squeezed at your heart like you're unable to breathe anymore.
he will not interrupt you, the man will make sure you can scream your heart out of your chest if it means that you feel better afterwards. he's a good listener and when you tell him everything that's on your mind, alhaitham will subconsciously ponder about possible solutions on how to help you out.
"nothing could be more human than this, don't ever feel like you have to hide this from me," he says as your tears slip beyond your control, rushing uncontrollably. alhaitham desired you beyond any significant reason, he has fallen for you and such fact will never falter, it's beyond native intelligence, beyond common sense.
although sometimes, he can trail off, it's cute, especially when he's catching himself admiring his darling, "you're so beautiful, have i told you that today?" for a second, right after you tipple over his words, your body is unable to react, and then you cannot help yourself but let go of a chuckle.
his sudden compliment came so unexpected regardless of your boyfriend being blunt by nature, "you're telling me this while i'm crying and looking like a mess?" your lips curve into a flustered smile, cutting through your initial weary facade. the chilling waves that flung into your body surely caused havoc, but it was almost frightening by how fast alhaitham could change your mood. 
"I thought you should know," he ponders, softly pushing your head up so you could look at him, "you're always beautiful to me, that has nothing to do with how you're feeling,"
shortly after, you lean into a tender kiss, chasing the love he was always providing you with— this time, simply feeling him once wasn't enough, so you kiss him again, again and again, leaving him with enlarged pupils as he pulls gently away.
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— childe
childe will find things to make you feel better, heavy emphasized on the find.
it's something he has to get done and despite the fact that he might not seem like it, he feels it with you, everything, it impact him, regardless if you're being drained that day, saddened or if it even has anything to do with him in the first place.
naturally, he'd also pamper you so you're feeling more comfortable, but such wasn't necessarily a new in your relationship, he clearly has a habit of spoiling you to bits— the celestial bodies decorating the world, yes, ajax would reach for the stars in the sky if you so wished for them.
you're aware that he's mostly absent due to his work requiring him for the most times, but he'd make sure to be by your side the moment he realizes you're genuinely not feeling well. childe is quite adapt of finding a way to make what he wants to achieve possible so do not worry yourself, he will never let you down.
for all that, do not get greatly surprised when he's starting to throw around unfunny jokes his brother might've told him or tell you a story about how hilariously weird his fellow colleagues can be, not to mention scary which was rib-tickling in its own manner.
the man will get nervous too and it's cute, it's his first serious relationship and he doesn't want to do anything wrong. also, important side note but it goes without saying that him being this adorable will already lift your mood a bit.
he's also a little overwhelmed by the situation and is scared to make it somehow worse for you. little does he realize that you're so thankful to him, in fact, you do not need him to magically solve the problems for you, your boyfriend just being here and listening was enough to find comfort.
it's all the more charming, he is, how he smiles from head to toe when you're searching his snug, pleasant hugs when he lets you sob into his chest.
"you're so comfy," you mumble into his jacket before rubbing your cheek over the place where you could faintly notice his fastened heart thumping beneath his ribcage.
your message makes him immediately blush, scarlet red catching his skin and setting it ablaze as he averts his gaze a little to conceal it.
childe doesn't necessarily think he's good at comforting somebody, but he shows you another smile when you gaze up at him, his grin close-lipped but bright as a bared tooth, "i'm sorry, i know i have neglected you recently," you recognize the weary weight of his words, how they're crumpling off his face, "my work, ugh, i know i should've been there for you more," he groans, "you don't deserve to be alone all the time,"
"it's not your fault," you draw a shaky gasp, panicked arms flying to his neck to wrap around him, "you're here now, aren't you?" your eyes glow, flickering with an impression that he cannot forget, it's boiling over until reaching the surface of your complete countenance, "can you stay for the night? only if it's possible," you reluctantly continue.
it's important to note that you really do not fault him, childe was not only providing for his family, but he wanted to give you a life where you do not have to worry about the material aspect of living.
ajax slides his large palm soothingly along the shiver of pain wracking your frame as he listlessly rests his head against yours, "i'll stay as long as you want me to, until you're feeling better, until you can smile again."
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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gracieheartspedro · 1 year ago
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Who We Are
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pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller
description: when your father falls ill, his patrol partner and best friend, joel miller finds a way to aid in his recovery. but this solution is complicated and requires you to take on a week-long hunt for supplies and resources. being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in evenutally.
word count: 17k words. this one is a LONG ONE. get a snack.
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, illness that requires medical intervention, blood, guns, killing of infected, forced proximity, joel is kinda pervy?, talks of loss of family members, joel lies about his past, oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie, after care.
author's note: ... hi folks! this one is a long one, so like I said, grab a snack and get comfy! I was going to make this multiple parts but I'm eager and unhinged. to be honest, this story is better as one big one shot anyway. I had a very intense time editing so I know I probably missed some things. I may write little branch off stories if you guys enjoy it enough. anyway, enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!
“Didn’t know you were workin’ tonight, darlin’,” Your father’s Southern drawl brings you out of your daze. You had been cleaning glasses for the last hour and a half. Surprisingly, the Tipsy Bison wasn’t busy on a Wednesday night. You had been keeping busy by cleaning and serving two visitors. 
You look up, noticing your father and his patrol partner wander into the bar. They find a seat at the bar, right in front of you as you dry some whiskey glasses. 
“I work every night this week, Pops,” You mutter, turning back to the liquor bottles to grab his favorite bourbon. You knew exactly what he came here for. He wanted to pester you on your shift and watch you write under his partner’s gaze. He thought your little crush was entertaining. You have made comments to your dad in the past about how you thought Joel was nice to look at and your Dad would just laugh. He would jokingly wiggle his finger at you and tell you to find someone your age. 
Little do you and your father know, Joel feels similarly about you. The first moment he saw you, he thought about how if he was a young buck, he’d lock you down as soon as he could. The age held him back initially, never even entertaining your subtle glances or welcoming smiles. Then when he realized who your father was, he immediately shut down all thoughts like that in his head. You were strictly off-limits.
“Well good, keeps you busy.”
You did not enjoy the idea of working every weeknight with a bunch of drunks, but this job was a bit better than constantly shoveling horse shit. Instead, you got to mingle with the locals. Maybe find yourself a man, since you were in your early thirties and unmarried.
Joel loved coming to the Bison when you were here. It meant he got to drink a whiskey neat and watch you twirl and rush around the bar. Tonight was slower, though, so he got the privilege of speaking with you, which was rare. 
You pour your Dad his bourbon, finally glancing up at his partner who’s practically ogling at you. You made a conscious effort to avoid his piercing brown eyes. 
Joel Miller was a dream boat, god damn. Every time he glanced in your direction, you would freeze up and stutter out a very jumbled “hello”. He was quite guarded, never much to talk. When he did finally speak, you found yourself reeling over his deep voice. 
“Whatcha want, Mr. Miller?”
His lips twinged, his eyes flicking up to yours. He loves hearing you say that, he thinks to himself.  You hand off the bourbon to your Dad, waiting for a response. 
“Whatever he’s having is fine, sweetheart,” He says plainly, nodding toward the half-empty bottle. Your knees could buckle at the nickname, but you keep your composure. You can’t crumble that easily. 
You three slide into a conversation about their patrolling, what they found that day, and the game plan for tomorrow. You make a sly comment about how they needed to find some meaning in life other than patrol. Your dad laughs, and Joel just stares blankly at you. You instantly want to take back the comment and never speak again, ever. Instead, you just continue drying the glasses you just washed. 
When your dad finished his bourbon, you noticed his expression change from relaxed to pained. 
“You okay there?” You ask, grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink below the counter. He rubs his chest, letting out a deep guttural cough. Joel looks perplexed while you get closer and notice the blood splattering into your dad’s palm. 
“It’s nothing, just a cough,” He manages to say, his voice hoarse. You scan his face, knowing immediately that he’s lying.
“Bullshit, you’re coughing up blood,” You reach towards some towels, tossing them on the counter in front of him, “You should probably go get checked out, Dad.”
Joel quips, “Yeah, don’t need you getting sick when we are out tomorrow. Why don’t you stop by the infirmary before you go home?”
Your Dad just shakes his head, “You two are being dramatic. It’s nothing, I promise.”
Your Dad was known for downplaying his pain and sicknesses. You remember being a little girl traveling with him across the country and every time he got hurt, he’d just suck it up. He shattered his left pinky years ago and he resolved to just chop it off. So that’s what he did. He was lucky it never got infected. But he was known just to blow off all his ailments, reminding you he’s beat all the other odds. 
So instead of fighting with him, you just nod all the while, stealing a long glance at Joel. He’s finishing his drink and you can’t help but watch his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you fixate on it for a bit too long. 
You’re brought out of the trance when he slams the glass down, his dark brown eyes drooping. Joel always looked tired, but you knew after the day they had, he was actually tired. 
You had a couple more hours at the Bison before you had to close up, so you bid them a farewell, reminding your Dad that you’d be home before he stumbles off to bed. He never slept much, he would just read in the living room until you got home usually. 
Joel waves you a farewell, thanking you quietly for the drink. 
“Don’t be a stranger,” You say as he turns his back to you to head for the door. He turns a bit, giving you a slight smirk as he reaches for the door. 
You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with a man. You spent most of your time in Jackson without giving much of the men your age a thought. More than half were taken, anyway. While you let your mind wander, you realize your imagination is placing Joel in the spot of all the made-up situations with this said man. 
-
You lock the bar door behind you, tugging on it to ensure it’s snug in the latch. The air was shifting, the cool warm summer turning into a slightly chilly fall. You wore a long sleeve today, luckily, or else you’d be shivering on your way home. The walk home wasn’t a long one. 
When you reach your front door, you realize the living room light is on. Dad’s awake.
But as you reach to turn the knob, you hear ghastly breathing from the other side. When you swing the door open, you see your Dad in his recliner, his hand over his chest. He’s dry heaving, trying to get out a cough. 
“Hey, hey,” You quickly race to his side, “Are you okay? What’s happening?”
He breathes in deeply, “I just can’t seem to catch my breath. Something isn’t right.”
You have never seen him so panicked. You nod, understanding that your next step is to get him to the infirmary. He should have gone on his way home. You didn’t know if anyone would be there and you surely didn’t know if they would be able to treat his symptoms. 
“Are you in pain?” You ask, grabbing under his arms to lift him out of his chair. He’s wobbly, so you keep your hand under his armpit and use your other free arm to balance him. He shakes his head. 
“Just weak.”
Your heart sinks. Never in your life has your father admitted to feeling weak or sick. It was like as soon as he got home, his body just gave out. You help him into his shoes and start your trek back towards the middle of town. You wish you didn’t have to walk him so far because it felt like with every 5 feet, his lungs were giving out and sending him into a coughing fit. You probably woke the entire town trudging him through the streets. When you get to the front step of the infirmary, you knock as loud as you can. Usually, they had an overnight shift nurse helping, having them watch over whoever was dragged there during the day. Dispensing medicine if need be. You knew a couple of the nurses, most of them your age or a bit older. 
When a familiar face opens the door, you feel a sense of relief. 
“Hey Sidney,” You greet her, sort of pushing your Dad into the room, still keeping your hands wrapped around his center, “Something’s wrong with Pops.”
She reaches out to help you with him, “Oh no, what’s going on?”
“Can hardly breathe,” Is all he can muster out. You look at Sidney, concern spread across your face. She nods, knowingly. 
Sidney was one of the nurses you trusted the most. She gave you stitches when you sliced your hand open on a glass bottle a couple of weeks ago. She was patient and gentle, always checking to see if you were doing alright as she sewed your skin together. She’s a former Firefly, probably in her 40s. She got trained by some doctors years ago so she knew a decent amount about all sorts of medical treatment. 
She takes hold of the situation completely, grabbing your Dad and walking him to a free bed near the door. She gets him to lie down and she starts scrambling for some supplies to do a quick once over of him. He looks pale and for some reason, very small, in the hospital bed. 
“It’s gonna be alright,” You say, poking his arm. You say it for him, but you mainly say it for yourself. He closes his eyes and nods. 
“Always is, kiddo.”
-
The news was not ideal. After observation and some tests, Sidney decided your father probably has pneumonia. The problem was, that Jackson was low on antibiotics and they would have to decide if your Dad’s case was urgent enough to give him some. 
It pissed you off, but you had to hold back your anger. This situation was out of Sidney’s control, but you knew exactly who to raise your voice to. Sadly, the city council was asleep in their beds, as it was 4 a.m. Sidney reassured you that she would ensure your father was looked after until the morning when they could discuss with everyone if it would be okay to give him some of the highly sought-after antibiotics. 
But for now, you should get some rest. 
Your father fussed at you while he was in and out of sleep, telling you that you needed to go home and sleep. Your body was plagued with exhaustion and your brain was hardly functioning. You would need to plead a good case, so even a couple of hours of sleep would do you good. You ask if you could occupy a bed nearby and Sidney agrees with a sympathetic smile. You curl up, trying to clear your brain of your racing thoughts. 
You can’t lose your father, he’s all you have. 
You need to remind the council of all your father does. 
You need him to get better. 
You need him. 
-
“We only have 4 vials of antibiotics,” Maria states, trying not to look you in the eyes. She feels horrible, but she knows deep down the rest of the council will probably reject your father using any. It was going to be a tough decision like this that made most of the people in the council think they were playing God, but it was real life. Would they give your 60-something-year-old father antibiotics for pneumonia or give it to a young child suffering from an infection? They had to think ahead and supplies were scarce. 
You cross your arms, waiting for the next shoe to drop. “And?”
Tommy stands up, knowing you will not like the next sentence. He practically guards Maria with his broad frame. He resembled Joel, with his dark hair and stern eyes. His were a bit softer. 
“We are low on resources, hun. We need to think ahead and ensure that the pros outweigh the cons of giving him one of those vials. You understand?”
“Why was this not a thought in the summer? When it was a good time to go seek some out? I just don’t under-”
“We had that sickness going around over the summer. Lots of people getting fevers. Before we knew it, Dr. Peters realized we were low. I had intentions to get out and try to find more, and trade with some people, but we just haven’t discussed it all yet. There’s a process. It was in the works.”
Your blood is boiling and your patience running out. Each second of arguing was another second your Dad could be closer to death. 
“Well, it’s a shitty fuckin’ process. Where can I go to get more, then? Is there another community we can trade with? A hospital we can scavenge? You guys can’t expect me to sit around and wait for him to get worse.”
Maria looks to Tommy, trying to wrack her brain for a response. Tommy’s lip twitches, knowing exactly what to say. He did not want you to do it, but he knew how you were. You’d do anything for your family. 
“There’s a hospital in Salt Lake that I’ve heard is practically untouched. Fireflies used to reside there and do tests. They probably left behind some supplies.”
You narrow your eyes, “Salt Lake? Isn’t that a whole week away?” 
You start to pace the room, trying to console yourself. You can’t just leave for that long and assume that everyone will take care of your Dad. Tommy places his hands on his hips, trying to figure out a resolution. He liked your Dad, always going to him if he needed help around the commune. Your Dad is always one to offer a helping hand and give solid advice. He didn’t want to watch him die, either. 
“How about this,” Tommy huffs, “How about we give him one of our vials and you and Joel head out to Salt Lake to scavenge that hospital? If we are right in our assumptions, there’s probably a lot of resources there. And Joel’s been there before.”
“Why are you roping Joel into this?” You press, crossing your arms. 
“Joel knows where to go. He can get you there in one piece.”
“Where am I going,” Joel’s presence takes you by surprise. You turn back at the front door of the infirmary, seeing Joel’s disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. He had red cheeks, probably from the jog he did to get there. As soon as he heard about your father, he booked it from the stables to his side. 
Tommy shoots Joel a knowing look, “You and her are gonna go back to Salt Lake. You think they have antibiotics at that hospital you took Ellie to?”
Joel’s visceral reaction sends you. His heart practically stopped when Tommy brought up the hospital. 
You start to sweat when he does, realizing you would have to travel that far with Joel Miller. 
He swallows, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Probably. Why can’t ya just give him what we have?”
Maria shakes her head at his response, “We have a long winter ahead of us, Joel. We have four vials left. This saves us from a council meeting where they shoot down everything. They won’t approve it. If I reassure them that you are going to get some more, they won’t mind if we give him one.”
He huffs, scratching his chin in contemplation. You knew this would not be ideal for him, but you’re willing to do anything, even if you had to do it alone. The four of you stand in silence while Joel wracks his brain for an excuse to say no. None comes to him. 
It’s not that he did not want to help you, he just does not want to relive some trauma with you by his side. He would have to swallow back all his emotions, all the while you would be posted up right next to him. He does not want you to see him falter under pressure.
“She can’t go alone, Joel,” Tommy quips, gesturing towards you. You were shaking, your body reacting before your brain even could. Your nerves were shot.
He shakes his head, “And if they don’t have the supplies?”
You didn’t even think that far. 
“They will,” Tommy says, matter-of-factly, “It’s our best bet. The Fireflies disbanded, there has to be stuff left behind.”
You don’t know how Tommy knows all this, but he must have good sources to know all these things. Joel nods at him, accepting his response. He looks back at you, trying to figure out how you feel about the proposition by reading your face. 
“Does that work for you?” His deep voice isn’t meant to be intimidating, but you flinch anyway at the question. 
“I don’t have much of a choice. My Dad needs the medicine. If you guys think we can make it there and back in one piece, I’ll do it.”
“We will leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime,” Joel waves over Sidney, who’s still sitting by your sleeping and dazed father, “Give him one of those vials.”
-
Joel sacrificing his time and effort for your father was unfathomable to you. Sure, Joel was a great friend of your Dad’s, but he truly didn’t owe you two anything. It made you enamored with him even more. 
As the day shifted into the evening, you sat by your Dad’s bed and waited for the antibiotics to kick in. His body needed rest, you knew that much because he slept more than he probably ever had in his lifetime. 
He was sweating out a fever, so every so often you’d pat his head with a cold rag. He would mumble a quiet “thank you” and then return to snoring. As the sun sets, you welcome Sidney back for her night shift. She checked your Dad’s vitals, telling you his lungs are already sounding a bit better. You stretch and yawn, cracking every bone in your body while you do. You were stuck in the same position for so long, elbows on your knees, your chin propped up by your hands. 
You had a long trip ahead of you, and you couldn’t lie, you were scared half to death. You did not want to come back and find your father dead. You were also terrified about going back outside of Jackson. You spent most of your last 20 years living in the wild and shitty QZ’s. You were always on edge out there, and then you found Jackson. Ever since then, life has been a little more hopeful. You were able to form relationships and have some simple enjoyment, after all this time. 
Your Dad finally wakes up when you start stirring more. His one eye opens first which makes you crack a smile. 
“Mornin’ Pops,” You joke, grabbing his warm hand, “That antibiotic should start working soon. You’ll be better in no time.”
“Yeah,” He croaks, “But I heard you’re going somewhere.”
You bite your lip, afraid to stress him out. You knew he would worry about you, he always did.  
“Yeah, me and Joel are going to get more supplies. Nothing too drastic,” You lie, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles, “You trust Joel enough to take care of me?”
It was the first time he laughed in the last 24 hours, “Course he will. He knows how much you mean to me. If he fucks up, he will get a load of me, that’s for sure.”
His voice was reassuring to hear, especially since he’s joking with you. 
“Okay, I believe you,” You mutter, “We leave tomorrow morning, so I need you to be good and get all the rest you can. I want you up and moving when I get back, you hear me?”
“Roger that, kiddo.”
-
“Mornin’ sunshine,” Your tone is sarcastic and Joel can tell. You did not expect to be stuck with Joel Miller alone for a week, especially outside the walls. 
He clears his throat as he finishes packing up his horse. 
“Mornin’,” He grumbles, patting his horse’s mane, “Let’s get you all set up. You’ll be takin’ your Dad’s horse, Ranger. He is already saddled up, just need to get your stuff on there.”
Luckily, you packed light. You brought a couple of changes of clothes, some food, some camping gear, and of course, your gun. 
Joel helps you tie down your bag and ensures all the straps he just put on are tight enough for you. You just watch him, enjoying how just takes control of the situation. He had the father instinct, always making sure everything would be safe and secure for the girls he loved. Or liked. Whatever.
You thank him, grabbing onto the saddle and flinging yourself up onto the horse. Ranger was truly your favorite horse in all of Jackson. He was the best behaved and the biggest. His mane was long and black and he loved to be brushed. You spent a lot of evenings riding him for fun, just enjoying his company. 
Joel gets on his horse, adjusting how he sits before he takes the reigns and guides you towards the main gates of Jackson. 
“You still sure you’re ready for a run like this?”
He’s giving you a chance to back out. But this was now an obligation. If you didn’t do this, you would indebted to everyone. You would be the person to blame if someone’s loved one died. Not really, but you felt that guilt. 
“Readier than I’ll ever be, Joel.”
-
“How is Ellie doing?”
You were burning to make conversation. You needed to rid your mind of all the anxiety surrounding your own life. Joel was too quiet, it made you feel queasy. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You were about 20 miles outside of Jackson, the sun was coming up through the foliage. 
He inhales sharply, “She’s a teenage girl. She’s grumpy.”
You grip onto the reigns of your horse, your body swaying back and forth with the trot. 
“I remember being that young and being constantly annoyed by my Dad’s nagging,” You chuckle, remembering the days of angst, “Are you annoying her, Joel?”
Joel scrunches his face at such allegations. If anything, Ellie was annoying him. 
“Course I’m not! Just… want to make sure she’s doing good. Which she is. Everyone tells me ‘bout how helpful she is.”
You think back to the last interaction you had with Ellie. She had been helping out at the stables when you were in charge of feeding and cleaning the horses before you got the job at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie wanted to know everything you knew, pestering you with silly questions like what their names were and why they were named what they were. 
“She’s very helpful,” You acknowledge, thinking about how enthusiastic she always was about learning, “You raised her right.”
He huffs, “Was hardly me. She’s just smart and raised herself.”
You did not quite understand the history between Joel and Ellie, but you knew Joel was not her biological father. You had no clue how they found each other or when. But you could see the love Joel had for Ellie. You remember him lighting up when he explained to you and your dad how she was the best shot amongst the recruits. 
Joel will probably never indulge you in the specifics of his relationship with Ellie, simply because it’s complicated. He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but Tommy. 
“You had a hand in some of it, Joel. Give yourself a little credit.”
But Joel was never good at that. He was hard on himself, weary to accredit any of Ellie’s behavior to himself. 
The rest of the ride was occupied with the sound of leaves rustling. Joel spots a fallen tree that he says would be a good eating spot. You agree, hopping down off your horse with ease. You tie his reins up on a nearby branch and start digging through your saddle bag for the apple you packed for yourself. You were sick with unease all day. With everything going on in your life, the last thing on your mind was hunger. Plus, you were alone with a man that you had to put all your trust in. 
You pop a squat on the chipping bark and get out your pocket knife to start cutting the red fruit. Joel gets out a bag of jerky from his pack and finds a spot next to you. He looks over at you, perplexed at your food choice. 
“Just some fruit?” Joel interrogates, instantly knowing your hunger cannot be satiated by apples. No one can be satisfied with only fruit. 
Your stomach churns at your first bite, “Just not that hungry.”
That’s all the explanation he needs. You watch as he starts to munch on his bagged meat, cringing at the sound of his mouth. You try to block it out, but it’s eating away at your brain. You hated the sound of chewing, it was such a stupid pet peeve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Joel is oblivious, probably not even hearing how loud he’s being. You smack his arm out of instinct, something you did to your dad when he was being too obnoxious. 
He looks down at you with furrowed brows and annoyed eyes. 
“You’re eating too loud,” You say, wanting to smack yourself at how stupid it sounds out loud. 
He looks away, completely flabbergasted at the reaction. “Eating too loud? Really?”
You feel embarrassed for letting your brain get the best of you. So you just cut more of your apple off and slowly crunch on it. You try your best not to hyper-fixate on your chewing. When you’re in a trance, lost in your thoughts, Joel nudges you back. He’s getting you back, now. 
“Now you’re chewing too loud,” He jokes, popping another piece of his jerky in his mouth, “Should probably keep it down. So loud you may attract some infected.”
You can’t help but smile at his stupid rebuttal. You give him props for making you feel less foolish. 
“Sorry,” you mumble, eating another slice intentionally loud, “Can’t help myself. They are just so crunchy.”
You hear him giggle, his smile easing your churning stomach. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you this one time.”
-
You knew the ride to this hospital would be long, but you didn’t realize how barren the landscape would be. You also didn’t realize how bad your ass would hurt. You and Joel finally pull off into some woods when the sun starts to set. Joel acts like he knows exactly how to navigate the woods, guiding his horse deeper and deeper. In between some large trees, you spot a lake. 
“Wanna go swimming?” You question after hours of no conversation. He glances back at you with a sly smirk on his face. When you look to your right, you notice a small path. Joel clicks his tongue for his horse to follow it. You two trot through the leaves, before coming upon a small decrepted cabin.
“This is us,” He states as he halts his horse. 
He had secretly always pictured taking you out here. He could not help but insert you into his small fantasies. Some nights he would imagine what it would be like to have you stick by his side forever. He always felt guilty afterward. 
You look at the building in wonder, completely speechless. You assumed you would be camping on the forest floor, not in an intimate cabin by a lake. You swing your leg over and slide off your saddle. Joel starts to tie up his horse nearby and you follow suit. You continue to look at the cabin, curious as to who kept up with it. It looked well maintained, besides some cobwebs at the peak of the roof. 
“Is this yours?”
He shakes his head, “No. Technically Tommy’s. He goes this way to get to another settlement about 50 miles south. He found this place on a whim and cleaned it up.”
You look around the area, seeing there’s even a fire pit right by the water. It had chairs and stones to outline the charred wood. You could not help but imagine what this place was before Tommy found it. How many fun nights were probably spent here by the original owner? If you had no one to go back to, you would just live here. But the more you think about that scenario, you think about how lonely you would probably get. Maybe if you had someone to stay with you. 
You finally look back at Joel. He’s standing on the stone path with his eyes locked on you. You get self-conscious for a moment, realizing he probably noticed how entranced you were with the surroundings. 
That’s exactly what he was thinking, too. How beautiful you stood in the shadows of the trees, your eyes curiously glancing around like a kid in a candy shop. You had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it. 
“You good if we stay here overnight? Get back on the road tomorrow?”
How could you ever say no to an offer like that? 
You nod, swallowing back your insecurity, “Yeah, for sure.”
-
Joel could build a good fire. Watching him gather all the wood and place them into a perfect formation. As soon as he lights it, it builds and builds. When the warmth envelopes you, you start to finally feel at ease. Joel sits down with a stick, nudging the fire every so often.
He felt guilty. He felt like he was betraying your father, a man who was trusting him with his daughter. He should not be imagining how a little life in the woods would look like with you. He should not be picturing how beautiful you would look underneath him. He should not be having these devious thoughts about you. His eyes are trained on the flames as they build, trying to push those daydreams away. 
When his sleeve lifts as he toys with the charred wood, you notice the watch on his wrist. It looks ancient, the face of it shattered. You don’t realize you’re staring at it until he snatches his hand away from your view. 
“Sorry,” You retract, sitting further into the chair, “Your watch is broken.”
He places the stick next to his foot, finally out of his head for a moment, “Yeah, I’m aware.”
You were so stupid. You know not to pry further, knowing there’s probably a story and you don’t feel like you’re at a stage with Joel Miller to dive deeper. He notices how small you making yourself, and it makes him feel bad. He never wants to make you insecure. 
“Your necklace,” He starts, trying to place your mind somewhere else. It was a feature on your body that he noticed ages ago, but he never tried to beg the question, so this seemed like a great time to move the subject along. “Is it a moon?”
You reach up to your throat, feeling for the necklace you never took off. It feels like he almost wants to see if you will spill your story first. He is bad at reading women, sometimes. Most of the time. 
“Yeah, it was my sister’s.”
He feels stupid, instantaneously. As soon as those words fell from your lips, he put his face in his hands. 
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
Your feelings towards what happened 20 years ago were drastically different than how you feel now. You could still feel the horror and the pain you felt, but it wasn’t so gut-wrenching anymore. It honestly doesn’t even feel like it happened to you. 
You drop the crescent moon charm from your hands, “No, it’s okay. She died on outbreak day. She was a bit older than me, her name was Reagan.”
He looks up at you and just nods, taking in the information. You don’t know if it’s a gesture for you to continue to talk, but you take it as just that. 
“Her and my mom were at one of her soccer games when all hell broke loose. From what I heard, she was bit by one of her teammates and when me and my Dad were packing up our things to get out of there, I grabbed some of her stuff. A necklace, a sweatshirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers. I don’t know why. But yeah, this necklace is the only thing that survived 20 years. Sweatshirt got too small, shoes got too torn up.”
You don’t even notice the tears pricking in your eyes until you blink. You don’t even remember what she looks like, her face is kind of jumbled in your memory. You remember her hair though, long and brown and super curly. Joel just listens, his eyes trained on your hands as you nervously rub them together. When you peer up at him, you see the mutual pain written on his face. 
He thinks to his beautiful Sarah. His eyes fall to his broken watch. The pain is still very palpable. 
“‘m glad we have somethin’ from our people. Somethin’ to remember them by, ya’ know?”
You scan his broken watch and nod timidly. “Yeah, something to remember them by.”
-
You stand up after eating some more food you packed, ensuring you’re somewhat nourished before you go to sleep. Joel stares at the fire, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He knows he has to sleep, but he knows you need it more. He’s willing to give up his hours for yours. 
“You want me to do first watch?” You quiz, hoping to get the answer no. Instead, he just shrugs. You cross your arms, a cool shiver going down your back as you step away from the fire. 
“I’ll start first,” He mumbles, grabbing his poking stick, “There’s a bed in there all ready for you. Get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow.”
You respond with a slight wag of your head, “Okay, goodnight, Joel.”
You turn on your heels and head towards the front door of the cabin. You creak the door open. It’s pitch black so you step back onto the small porch to grab the lantern Joel lit a while ago. You slowly creep through the one-room cabin, placing the lantern on the small table by the door. It lit up most of the room so you got a great look at the wooden framed bed, waiting for you to lay upon it. 
You feel a pang of guilt making Joel sit outside to guard you as you slept. You knew you needed rest. You also knew it would start getting colder and colder and that fire would die eventually. 
Joel could handle himself, after all. You would just have to push your worry aside. When you curl up onto the hard mattress, you think back to the last time you were left to trust another man to look after you as you slept. It was a traumatizing night, so instead of worrying yourself, you close your eyes and remind yourself that Joel is safe. Dad trusts Joel. Joel is a good man. 
Sleep eventually takes over, your soft snores rattling off the wooden walls. 
After a couple of hours, the shivering takes over Joel’s body, so he creeps into the cabin. The lantern is dimmer, slowly running out of fuel. He shakes his head, smiling to himself at your disregard for resources. He walks over to the small wood-burning oven, opening the door to it as quietly as he can. You don’t even stir. You’re a deep sleeper, he would remember. 
He starts a fire with the old coals, warming up the small space. Once he stands up from his squat, he hisses at the crack of his knees. He glances over at you, making sure he did not wake you. Nothing. 
You were a peaceful sleeper, your mouth slightly ajar. To Joel, you were always so beautiful. Not even just your looks, but your kind and reserved nature. You always gave him a delighted smile when he looked your way. You were dedicated to always being there for your father, which would always melt his cold heart. He would always watch you with a careful eye, praying that you would somehow get older or him, younger. He hated himself for admiring you so often, especially since he respected your father so much. But you were right there. 
He sat himself in the old recliner chair near the door, peaking out the window every so often. He would always find himself training his eyes back on you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. 
It takes everything in him not to curl up next to you. 
-
The second day starts off a bit rough. 
When you wake up in the early morning hours, you take notice of a sleeping Joel in the corner of the room. You spring up, loudly rattling the bed frame. It sends Joel jumping out of his skin, his eyes flying open to look at you.
You are panting like you just ran a mile. 
“Jesus Christ, girl,” He barks, his tone tired but also vicious, “Thought someone had you at gunpoint.”
“You were sleeping!”
“Shit, yeah I was, wasn’t I?” His tone is more relaxed, sort of annoyed. He rubs his eyes, glancing outside. Your horses were still there and it doesn’t seem like you guys have been ransacked. 
You clench your fists, “You’re lucky we didn’t get shot in our sleep or something.”
He rolls his eyes, slowly rising from the chair he took over, “That’s a little dramatic, sweetheart. We are fine.”
After that comment, you did not want to talk to Joel Miller. 
You also start to question if you can trust him. He should’ve woken you up to take charge of the watch, but instead, he ignorantly fell asleep and risked your life. 
When you pack up to leave, he realizes how rattled you are. He wants to apologize, but he’s too stubborn to do so. You were being dramatic. But he shouldn’t have said that. He should’ve kept that comment to himself. He was never really good at holding his tongue, always saying the first thing on his mind. 
-
When the sun sets on the second day, Joel promises you two should be in Salt Lake the next afternoon. The whole day pretty much consisted of you two bickering about state capitals. He swears the capital of Pennsylvania is Philadelphia. 
“It’s not, it’s Harrisburg,” You would say. 
You also talked about times before the Infection. He mentions his daughter, Sarah, telling you about how she used to play soccer and she loved going to the Texas State Fair. It makes your heart happy to hear him light up about her, but it makes you want to cry hearing a father talk about his dead child. You can’t imagine that type of pain, and you hope you never do. He doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly baring his soul to you, but he starts to feel like his walls are falling away and he’s comfortable around you. 
He tells you about how he plays the guitar, which you lock onto quickly. 
“You’ll have to show me how good you are,” You smile, imagining Joel Miller strumming along to some folksy song you request. He can only imagine what type of music you would want to hear from him. 
“When we get home,” He mutters, “I'll give you a performance.”
“I cannot wait.”
The conversation with you was easy. You could get anything out of him, pretty much. You were a lot like your father, but softer. He enjoyed your company a bit more. Your laugh was infectious and you were a lot easier on the eyes, of course. When you two stop for a break, he watches as you look for four-leaf clovers on the forest floor. When you find one, you pick it up and bring it over to his hunched-down frame. 
“My mom used to say they were for love and luck,” You explain, “Think you need it for both.”
He knew you were joking by the way you giggle and return to your spot on the ground. He just shakes his head and sticks the clover in his jacket pocket. 
-
He was dreading being back in Salt Lake. He doesn’t want to relive that day when Ellie was practically ripped from him. It sent him spiraling just thinking about all the outcomes that could’ve transpired that day. 
He contemplates telling you for a few brief seconds. 
He wouldn’t have much to lose, especially now that everything is said and done. But then fear takes over and he wonders, would you judge him for it?
He imagines how you would react. How your nose would probably scrunch up, how your disposition towards him would soon contort into horror. You would probably call him a monster. You would probably never look at him the same way, with that beautiful smile and attentive gaze.
“You okay, Joel?”
You two were positioned on the edge of some woods off a dirt road. Joel didn’t want to attract anyone with fire, so you two decided you would just camp on the ground near the highway you would end up following to get into the city. 
“‘M all good,” He practically whispers, “Just tired. You mind gettin’ first watch?”
You just silently nod, watching him rise from his spot and move over to the sleeping bags you two had set up when you arrived. You watch as he awkwardly wiggles his large frame into a small sack. It makes you giggle a bit. He positions himself with his back to you, his front facing into the woods. He can’t spend his time staring at you like he would like to, he needs to sleep. 
You realize he has a leaf stuck on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself, it was going to bother you for as long as you were awake. You stand up and slowly creep up to him. 
You squat down and pluck the leaf out of his thick curls. His head snatches back at you, knitting his brows together in confusion. 
Secretly deep down, you just wanted to find a reason to touch him. 
“Can I help you?”
You give him a shit-eating grin, “Yeah, you just got leaves in your hair. It was going to bother me if I didn’t get it out. You’re very, very welcome.”
He rolls his eyes, “Can I sleep now?”
“Don’t know, I’m already getting bored without you glaring at me.”
You were now on a mission to annoy him, he guesses. 
Without thinking, he responds with a comment that would stick with you all night. 
“Yeah, you like it when I look at you, don’t ya?”
-
The homestretch was only about another 20 miles. You and Joel had made good time, only taking about three days to get to the hospital. After the subtle flirting with Joel the night before, you got a little more ambitious with your advances. 
Before you two took off to get to your destination, you asked Joel if you could change your clothes. You had mud all over your jeans and your shirt was reeking of body odor. The natural deodorants that were handmade in Jackson only did so much. 
“Yeah, make it quick,” He orders, pointing to a more private area of the camp, “There’s some bushes over there.”
“I’m not getting dressed in a bush, Joel. Just look away,” You test, already shrugging off your flannel. He notices your bold move, instantly peeling his eyes away from your direction. This can not be happening to him right now. 
“What the hell,” He murmurs, his hands propped up on his hips, “You’re doin’ this on purpose.”
You feel your cheeks heat up, “Doing what on purpose?”
“Testin’ me. Me and my patience.”
You throw your shirt over your head and grab one of your spare ones from your pack, “Well, if it’s a test, you’re passing with flying colors, Miller.”
He glances back at you without even really thinking, spotting you in your bra with a shirt covering your eyes. It’s almost like when you tell a child not to press a button, and it makes them want to do it even more.
He wanted to keep looking. 
“Fuck,” He says under his breath, trying to push those types of thoughts out of his mind. 
You shimmy off your pants, folding them as soon as you get them off your legs. You needed a shower so bad, you felt so filthy. 
“You think we could stop back at the cabin on the way home? I want to bathe.”
Thinking about you naked and taking a bath made his dick hard. 
“Yes,” He manages to say, “Hurry up, please!”
You grin at his frustration, “Fine, fine. I’m almost done.”
-
You and Joel trot along an abandoned highway, cars littering every lane. It was nothing new to you. You have seen plenty of cities in your lifetime. Each time was a bit different, but for the most part, they were all the same. Riddled with infected and bombed to shit. 
You think back to when Tommy said Joel had been here before. Your mind starts to wonder, and being that you still had a couple of hours before you got to see the actual hospital, you decide to speak up and ask. 
“When was the last time you were here?”
He thinks for a second. He was waiting for these questions. 
“Over a year ago.”
You shake your head, “Was there a reason?”
You had no business prying into Joel’s life, but you felt like after spending days with him, there was some kinship. Maybe even a friendship.
“Ellie’s mom was a Firefly. They had a base camp out here,” He explains, but would he go further? Would he spill all the beans?
It’s technically not his story to tell. But then again, Ellie didn’t even have the truth, so it was a story only he knew. 
You wait before responding, “Did you find her?”
“Who?”
“Ellie’s mom,” You press, glancing around some cars. You are trying to act like you didn’t care, but you could tell from the moment you entered the outskirts of the city, Joel was plagued with the weight of the atmosphere. His shoulders got heavier, his eyebrows further knitted together. He was tense. 
“No, she’s dead. So I brought her home,” He says, half-bending the truth. He’s lying, but not really. Ellie’s mom was dead but that was never the reason they came out here. He just wants to say it, but his chest feels like a weight is pushing down, almost cracking his ribs. He swallowed the guilt. 
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
You didn’t have much else to say, letting the silence eat away at the prickle of your arm hairs as they stood up. You try to relax, but now that you are in the city, it feels real. You traveled all this way for medication so Jackson would not shun you. It sounded kind of stupid, coming all this way in hopes of a stocked Firefly hospital. 
You also traveled all this way with Joel Miller. You managed to speak to him without tripping over every word and poking fun at him. You watched him sleep at night, looking so peaceful in the woods surrounding him. You try to think about the last time you saw him smile. You saw him differently, now. He came all this way to help you and your dad. He is risking a lot, disregarding his duties back home, just so he can be with you and protect you. 
You ponder if things will be different when you get home. Maybe he would talk to you more when he came to the Tipsy Bison. Maybe he would wave back at you when you saw him around town. 
You secretly hoped being next to him for so long would change your relationship with him. 
Joel starts to ride next to you, studying your face as you stare forward. 
“What are you thinkin’ bout so hard over there?” He poses, watching your face twist when he speaks up. 
You lick your lips, “Thinking about what it’s gonna be like when I get home.”
“What do ya’ mean?”
You halt your horse to look over at him. He does the same. 
“We came all this way and I am scared when we get back, you won’t want to talk to me anymore.”
He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, “Kiddo, your dad’s my patrol partner. ‘Course, I’ll still talk to you. You’re always around.”
The nickname makes you cringe. You don’t want to be a kid to him. 
“Right, of course.”
-
When you get to the edge of the city, Joel starts explaining the game plan. How you will get to the hospital, do your sweep as quick as you can, and don’t meander around. He also explains how the exit plan is to drop everything, no matter what, and return to the horses. You see someone? Run. 
You want to say you know how to handle yourself, but you resist and just nod in understanding. 
To your surprise, you two do not run into any hoards. You turn a corner and spot a couple of infected twitching near an old school, and you two carefully back up and go up another block to avoid them altogether. You two don’t say anything to each other as you spot the hospital in the distance. Joel just points forward, having you trot at his side. 
You pull out your gun when you start to hear some clicking nearby. Joel gestures to you to be quiet and continues to the front of the hospital. You two ride your horses to the ambulance drop-off, parking them there. When you jump down, you start to grab your pack so you can fill it with whatever supplies you find. Joel does the same, throwing his leather backpack over his shoulder. You check the magazine of your gun and take off the safety. 
“Okay, we stay close to each other,” He explains in a hushed tone, “Grab whatever you think we need.”
You wiggle your head in agreement. He raises his rifle as you two enter the side door. The hospital is quiet besides the wind blowing through some shattered windows. You click on your flashlight that is attached to your backpack, making sure it’s pointed forward. The main corridor leads you down to some triage rooms and nurse's stations. Joel gestures to you to check out some triage rooms. You find some bandages and some tongue presses. You grab the entire box of bandages and stuff them in your bag. When you return to the hall, Joel is stuffing some of his finds in his pack. 
“No meds yet,” He grumbles. You two press forward, keeping your steps silent. You find some lab rooms off the main hallway and you two scope out each room carefully, your guns still drawn and at the ready. You find more items; some gloves, masks, and some scissors. You pick them up, stuffing them in your back. 
You hear movement from behind you and quickly spin. It’s just Joel, holding a couple of vials of medication. You rush towards him, using your light to see what the vials read. 
levofloxacin 
amoxicillin
“Jackpot,” You murmur, “Any more?”
He grabs a baggie sitting on a table nearby, “Not that I saw.”
You continue searching, not finding much of anything in the drawers. A lot of the stuff is picked through. 
You point to a central staircase, “Wanna go up?”
“Yeah, right behind you.”
Joel was reeling, spotting some areas where blood was splattered across the walls as he walked through the hospital. It was terrifying to put himself back in this exact spot. It felt like a fever dream. Now he had you with him, another person he cared too much about to admit to anybody, let alone himself. He cared about you in a whole different way than he cared about Ellie. 
You trail up the stairs, finding some old labs and nurse's stations. All were picked through. You couldn’t help but notice the blood all over the floor in some areas. You try to figure out what could have transpired here, but you don’t even try to beg the question to Joel. With the look on his face, you are afraid to say much of anything. 
Something bad happened here and he was a witness to it. 
It made you want to hurry up and spare his feelings. Instead of taking careful and methodical steps, you run room to room searching drawers and counters for anything of value. You find some alcohol swabs, safety pins, and some wrist splints. When you get to the last room in the hallway you’re in, you hit the jackpot. It’s a cabinet with some vials. 
You start to quietly read them off to Joel who’s standing on the threshold of the room. 
“Grab them all,” He says, pulling his pack off his shoulder so you can put some into his, “We can find use for ‘em.”
You also find some sutures and unopened syringes. You wish you could get down on your knees and thank whatever god is up there for blessing you with everything. You don’t believe in that though, so instead you excitingly grab Joel’s arm and shake it. 
“Let’s get this all home,” You smile, pressing your fingers harder into his bicep, “Maybe celebrate with something strong from the bar.”
Then you hear it. 
Click. Click. Click. 
Joel grabs your arm back, shoving you behind him. He slings his pack over his shoulder and you do the same. You never had many issues with killing infected, but you did not know what you were dealing with. It was dark and all too quiet for too long. Joel creeps forward, his gun drawn forward to peek out the door. When you do the same, he tucks you back behind him. 
Lining the hallway is about 3 clickers. Your stomach drops as they slowly make their way to the sounds you two made seconds ago. Joel glances back at you, his face very serious and stern. 
You can read the look on his face and being that you dealt with these fuckers before, you know that you need to be silent. He looks back down the hall, spotting an exit in a staircase that’s slightly blocked by one of the clickers. He waves you along as he slowly tiptoes down the hallway. You get closer and closer to the first clicker and your gun is trained right at them as you keep your distance. You can tell by the clothing that it was a woman at one time, the infection growing out of every crevice of her body. 
She clicks and clicks, but does not attack you. You and Joel continue, not making a sound as you shuffle past the next one. But once you get close to the one closest to the door, something snaps and it’s like they all realize exactly all at once. One squeals and the others follow suit. Joel yells for you to run, but you don’t budge, emptying your gun into the closest one. It crumbles to the ground. With that one down, Joel grips your wrist tightly and flings you towards the door. You two rush out as Joel lights up the hallway with gunfire. 
You now know that you’re attracting every infected in a mile radius so time is of the essence. You practically fall down the stairs trying to get to the bottom. Joel does not like how fast you moving, pressing you to run faster. You two sprint down the hallway as two runners come full speed at you from an opposing hallway. You try to shoot but your gun is empty. You scream for Joel to do something and he puts them down expertly. He’s spot on even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You find the door you came in from and quickly make your way to Ranger. He seems sort of spooked so you try to gingerly climb up him, grabbing his reigns from the pole you tied him to. Joel is quick to mount his horse. He pulls his horse back, guiding it to head back the way you guys came. 
You follow suit, hearing stirring from all around you as your hair whips in the wind. You are not worrying about the noise you two are making now, galloping down the once-busy streets of Salt Lake City. 
“Don’t stop til’ I say so!” Joel calls out. You can hardly hear with your heartbeat in your ears and the wind against your ear drum. 
You get to the edge of the city after about 20 minutes of dodging left-behind cars and random barriers. You get to the point where the foliage takes over and the infected taper off. You don’t realize it until you start slowing down and your heart gets back to its normal pace, you’re freezing. 
You yell out for Joel, who’s still going quite fast. He halts completely, letting you catch up with his step. 
“We have to stop, I’m freezing.”
You weren’t wearing all your layers and you knew it would be detrimental if you didn’t stop to wrap up before you two continued your journey. Joel nods, trotting off the main part of the road into some woods. 
When you get off your horse, you can feel Joel’s eyes lock onto your vibrating body. 
“Jesus, girl,” He dismounts, wrapping his reigns around a nearby branch, “The wind do you that much damage?”
You can’t help but laugh as you rifle through your pack to find your extra layers. You can remember packing two thermals, but with the way you’re shaking, you can’t even grip onto the clothes to move them around to search. You don’t even realize Joel has come to your side, you only notice when he nudges your side with his three fingers. You move out of his way so he can look, but you can’t help but feel the warmth his gentle touch gives you on your hip. 
He pulls out a thermal, handing it out to you. 
“Just put it over your other long sleeve,” He instructs, digging for another layer for you. You take his advice and throw it over your head. When your head pops through the neck hole, you spot him smirking at you. 
“If you don’t warm up soon, I may have to share my body heat so we can get back on the road,” Joel jokes, watching you pull your hair out of the back of your long sleeve. You didn’t hate the sound of that, truthfully. 
“Guess I will try my best not to warm up then.”
He shakes his head, grabbing onto your other thermal, “You can’t say stuff like that to me, darling.”
“Why not?”
Joel has slipped up a couple of times already, he wasn’t planning on giving in. But the teasing was fun and light-hearted. He knew in his heart it was not going to turn into anything. 
Right?
“Because I don’t think it’s a very good idea for us to talk like that to one another,” He explains, stepping back as you add the other shirt onto your already warming body, “May lead us somewhere we can’t come back from.”
You swallow, “Maybe I’d like that.”
-
It takes you a day and a half to get back to the cabin. Joel promised that you two could spend a whole day there if need be. You two were physically and mentally exhausted. The horses needed rest too, you could tell Ranger was beat. 
When you arrive on the property, Joel makes sure to scope out a radius before you two settle in. Ever since the sly passes you made at him, he’s been more quiet. You can tell he’s deep in thought. Maybe it wasn’t about you, but he had something on his mind. 
You use the fire stove to warm up some water from the lake to give yourself a quick “bath”. You just used an old rag and some bar soap to scrub your limbs, trying to get off all the caked-on dirt. Joel stayed outside by the fire, cooking up some squirrels he was able to trap. You stood in your undergarments, lathering your skin, watching him from the window as he poked at the fire. 
You felt a bit better once you were clean. The growl in your stomach was dull and kind of painful. You needed to eat, so you got your dirty clothes back on and headed outside to prop yourself up next to Joel. 
When you open the cabin door, his head snaps over to you. 
“Howdy, cowboy,” You gleam, walking down to the stump next to him. You couldn’t help but flirt now. It was funny to watch him squirm, the glint in his eyes not hard to notice. 
“You all clean?”
You nod, giving him a cheeky smile. “Yeah, now you go get yourself all cleaned up.”
He grabs his stick poker, “Don’t got any soap.”
“Use mine.”
Joel stops his motion immediately to train his eyes back on you. “You want me to smell like you?”
“Well, I smell delicious, so why not?”
He scans your body with his eyes, “Cause if we get home and your Dad smells your soap on me, he’ll put it bullet between my eyes.”
You know he’s being dramatic, finding any excuse to opt out of using the soap you just used on your body. 
“So, what you’re saying is,” You clear your throat before continuing, “If my dad wasn’t your friend, you’d lather yourself with my soap?”
He contemplates for a moment, “Yeah, and other things.”
Your heart stops beating for a second. Joel can not help but smirk at your reaction. He was playing with fire, literally and figuratively. The tension between you two was so heavy, that you do not think you could even take a deep breath in. 
He stands up from his spot next to you. “Why don’t ya eat, sweet thing? I have to clean myself up, I guess.”
-
Joel can not do this. 
You were his friend’s daughter. Sure you were grown, beautiful, strong-willed, and everything he could want and more but he could not take advantage of you. The only way he felt this way right now was because tensions were so high back in Salt Lake. You two have spent a lot of time together, the hormones… what the fuck is he thinking?
You sit by the fire, your stomach doing back flips as you think about Joel in the cabin, by himself, practically half naked. 
Why were you doing this to yourself?
Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. No clicker, no stranger, nothing has made you this nervous. Your hand reaches for the door handle, but before you can turn it, Joel rips open the door. 
“What do you think you’re doing?”
You stand there, dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know.”
He’s standing over you, his chest rising faster the more you keep your eyes trained on him. He has a green flannel on, the top couple of buttons undone. You lift your hand to touch the skin peeking through, but he stops your movements before you can make contact. You note the scent of wood burning in the cabin and it’s a lot warmer than you left it. Joel must have started the stove again. 
“We can’t.”
You shake your head, “No, we can’t, can we?”
You two know better. You know better. You know better. 
You are breathing in each other’s spaces. You don’t even want to look him in the eyes. His arm snakes around your midsection, pulling you forward into the cabin. At that moment, you knew that you two didn’t know any better. 
It’s almost like you two silently made the decision. 
“We can’t tell anyone about this, sweet girl,” He whispers, his hands still firmly on your back. You could not resist this temptation anymore. He was right in front of you, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him. 
Your eyes glance up at his dark sultry gaze, “It’s our little secret.”
His hand reaches up, gracing your chin with his touch. When he dips down to meet your height, you finally get bold and extend your hand up and around his neck. Your lips connect and you feel like a million little butterflies explode in your stomach. You had never desired a kiss from anyone as much as you did with Joel. 
He’s eager and impatient, though. He’s not as soft as you imagined for a man who hardly spoke. He just wants to feel you everywhere, all at once. His mouth melts into yours, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. He’s moving you around the room, stumbling over furniture and shoes as he backs you into the large wooden bed frame. 
“So fuckin’ perfect,” He mumbles into your lips as soon as he lifts you up onto the mattress. It catches you by surprise, mainly because you never expected him to manhandle you in this way. He’s hungry for every inch of you. After all these months of secretly pining for him and him not giving you any positive response, you never anticipated something like this happening. Especially at a time like this. 
“Joel,” You whine, pulling him down on top of you as you fall back into the flannel blankets, “I need you everywhere.”
He grins peppering kisses down your neck, “Don’t worry, I will treat you so fuckin’ good. Been wantin’ you for so long.”
It was so filthy and hot. Your dad’s patrol partner, his best friend. Keen to make you feel good? And wanting it for a while? You must be imagining his words because you can’t even comprehend the situation. 
But it’s true. Joel’s secretly been watching you when you’re not looking. When you sling drinks on Friday nights, he watches you from a booth in the corner. Tommy’s caught him a couple of times, smacking him and reminding him that you were off limits. When you came to his house with extra pot pie or soup, he would watch you walk away from his house from his living room window. 
This taboo yearning kept him up at night. But now, he has you alone and he needs a taste. 
He pulls back to look at your face, “Are you sure you want me?”
You can’t help but giggle a bit. 
“Joel, I’ve been wanting you for longer than I would like to admit,” You purse your lips as you bring your hand up to trace his collarbone, “Think about you all the time.”
It was the truth. Your mind was taken up but all his little sly comments. The way he would drop anything to help you or your dad. His beautiful brown eyes didn’t help one bit either.
“My god, girl…Gonna have me cumming in my jeans like a teenager.”
He returns to laying kisses all along your body. It started with wet kisses down your neck, only for it to trail right where your shirt begins, right below your collarbones. You push him back for a moment, taking your shirt off over your head. He watched you carefully, ensuring there was no hesitancy with your actions. He wanted to be absolutely positive that this is what you wanted. 
As soon as you reach for the clasp of your bra, Joel grabs your arms away. 
“Let me,” He mumbles, letting his fingers trace along the seam of the black fabric before using his right hand to undo the back. With him this close to you again, you inhale sharply, catching the scent of your soap. 
“See you took up my offer,” You tease, letting your bra fall down your shoulders, “Did you get clean just for this, Miller?”
He catches a glimpse of you under the bra and his mind goes blank. You notice his change in disposition and decide it’s best to discard every other article of clothing completely. You struggle to get your jeans off, so he helps by practically ripping them off your legs. He can’t help but spot the soak undies attached to your jeans. When you are bare under him, he gawks at you for a moment. 
“A beautiful woman like you,” He shakes his head, biting his lip. He unbuckles his pants before he stands and shoves them down his legs. While he’s making an effort to get as naked as you, you start unbuttoning his flannel. He watches you take your time, thumbing each button slowly. He tilts your head back up, his eyes leering at you for a moment. “And you want someone like me?”
You know he’s probably in his own head, so you feel the need to prove to him, that yes this is what I want. 
You grab onto his neck and pull him back down into a passionate kiss. When you notice him give in, you use all your might to push him sideways and onto his back next to you. You mount his lap immediately, holding him down with your body weight. Your soaked slit trudges over his large hard-on while you dip your head to capture his lips. You feel his hands trail up the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He finds your boobs, palming them with his warm calloused hands. You were extra sensitive so as soon as his fingers find your nipples, you’re moaning into his mouth. 
When your hips jet forward, his tip slides between your pussy lips. The sensation sends him into overdrive, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He’s so fucking big. 
“No foreplay, you just wanna grind your pussy right onto my cock?” His question sends shockwaves through your body and you raise your hips up off his crotch. You kneel over him, anticipating to rotate your pelvis back onto him, but he has other ideas. 
Because Joel has been thinking about what you taste like for too long. He can’t just fuck you. He lays back, all the while, dragging you up to his chest so your pussy is hovering over his pursed lips. 
“Joel, what are you doing?”
You feel his hot breath huff onto your slick center, “I’m gonna devour this beautiful pussy, first. Need to get you warmed up.”
Without any warning, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pushes your center closer to his outstretched tongue. You gasp when he starts to run his tongue up and down your slit. You can’t help but settle around his face, your knees feeling like they may already give out. 
You’ve never sat on someone’s face and watched them eat you out like a starved man. But Joel is precise with his motions, his mouth wrapping around your clit. When he starts to suck, the suction noise makes you whimper and shake. You have only ever cum by your own hand, so when the familiar heat rises in your stomach, you know instantly this is going to be the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. 
Joel is a very easy man to please. He thoroughly enjoys watching women crumble above him, their orgasms surging through their bodies while his tongue is pressed into them. But with you, he wants to drudge it out of you over and over again. You’re so magnetic on top of him, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your hands rest on your shoulders as you grind down on him, your peak teetering the edge. He shimmies his hand in between your thighs and begins to use his fingers in you, just to drive you crazier. He’s fucking up into you with his pointer and middle fingers, managing to latch onto your clit while he does. 
When you tumble into bliss, Joel moans into you, egging on your spasms. You lurch forward, dragging your center off his drenched lips. Your legs are limp as you try to crawl up the bed. Joel rolls over, creeping up the bed with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up onto some of the pillows. 
“Do you need a break?” He asks, his hands feeling up your bare, still kind of shaking, thighs. You shake your head “yes” and breathe out loudly. Your body is covered in a light sheen, the sweat pooling around your hairline. Joel lets you take a moment, making sure you are completely ready for him. 
When you finally meet his eyes, your stomach fills with butterflies. He’s admiring you from his position, his eyes not finding yours until he’s done checking out your bare chest. You giggle, tugging on his wrists. He takes up your advances, positioning himself above you. He’s caging you in with his tanned strong arms, only allowing you to really move your upper body. You tangle your hands through his messy dark peppered curls, which makes him sigh. He secretly loved it when women felt through his hair. 
“Fuck me,” He groans as he reaches down between you, grabbing ahold of his hard member. You watch as he drags it through your heat, gathering all your wetness before teasing your entrance. 
“Joel, please.”
He smirks, pushing in just his tip, “Please what, baby girl? You want me to give you all of it?”
You are already overstimulated after your last orgasm and you are a bit nervous to imagine what all of it is. You nod, though, because the stretch is already so delicious. 
“Please, Joel, please. I need it,” You whine, knowing how desperate you sound. It’s music to Joel’s ears. 
“Shh, baby,” He eases in further, “I told you I’m gonna treat you real good. Gonna treat this pussy, so fuckin’ good.”
When he’s fully sheathed in you, your nails are digging into his shoulders. When he eases back to pull out some to ensure you can take it, you’re a moaning mess. It only eggs him on, feeling how slick you are and how tight you are around him. 
“That’s right baby, take all of me,” He says as he lifts himself off you. You have nothing to grip onto now, except the sheets that line the queen-sized bed. Joel wants to watch himself slip out of you and go back into you with ease. You love the friction, but you know you need more. 
You don’t know how, but it’s like he reads your mind. He starts to increase his pace, holding onto the back of your thighs as he drills into you. The curvature of his dick hits exactly where no man could ever reach. 
“Oh my god, fuck Joel! Fuck!”
Your words only encourage him to go harder and faster.
“Keep screamin’ my name, baby doll.”
The sweat is dripping down his face with how much effort he’s putting into fucking you. You’re floored at how quickly your orgasm builds again, the sounds of him plowing into you alone sends you into overdrive. 
As soon as you start to vibrate under him, Joel takes that as a great time to start thumbing at your clit. You feel every one of your nerve endings burning with such rapture, that you can’t even say anything. You’re just howling, no coherent words even coming out. Your vision goes white.
The scene is something out of the old pornos Joel used to watch. You’re writhing under him, the orgasm practically sending you cross-eyed. You reach up to anchor yourself down and the only thing you can find to grab is Joel’s forearm. 
“Yes, Joel!”
His hips continue to snap into yours as you squeeze his cock with your gyrating hips. He’s fucking you through it, watching your face contort. Your grip on his arm hurts, but he does not care. It’s unbelievably hot to watch the girl he has adored from afar cumming around him. Over and over. 
The scene is enough to have him chasing down his own high. The feeling of your cunt gripping onto him so tight, while his name is chanted from your lips, the cum practically shoots out of him before he has time to grab his shaft and pull out. He does not empty himself in you though, quickly prying himself out of your weeping hole and spilling out the rest onto your stomach. 
“Shit.”
You don’t even realize what happened, not caring about really anything except for how wonderful and high you feel. Joel tumbles onto his side, half of his body resting on yours. His mouth is close to your ear so he whispers it to you, his voice shaky. 
“I came inside you.”
You lick your lips, trying to regain some saliva in your mouth, “I do not care, Joel.”
He does not prefer that answer, but he accepts it for the time being. You could not feel your face at the moment, you did not have time to worry yourself over Joel cumming inside you. It was not the first time someone did that. 
Joel rolls off the bed, his legs feeling wobbly with his first steps. He’s still half hard and stumbling over to the bowl of water he just used to clean off himself. He grabs a clean rag and soaks it in the soapy water. The least he could do was clean up his mess. 
You watch him trudge over to you, the cum still pooled on your stomach and a bit in your belly button. 
Joel places the warm towel on your lower tummy, wiping up his mess. 
“Thanks,” You manage to say, your post-orgasm haze wearing off a bit. Now you’re just cold and exhausted. You shiver as soon as he removes the towel from your buzzing body. He notes it immediately and grabs the blanket that had been kicked to the floor. He lays it over you, making sure your full nude body is covered by the chilly air. 
“I need to go take a leak, I’ll be right back.”
You try to stay awake. But as soon as he gets some clothes on and heads outside to relieve himself, you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the rustling woods that surround the cabin. 
-
When you slowly open your eyes, you instantly notice how dry your mouth is. The itchy fabric of the blanket is tickling your bare limbs as you shift. Joel’s not beside you. 
You sit up, glancing around the cabin. His stuff is still here, but he is not. You keep the scratchy blanket wrapped around you as you plant your bare feet on the wooden floor. As soon as you take your first step forward towards the front door, it slowly swings open. 
Joel stands there, fully clothed, cheeks reddened from the cold outdoors. 
“Mornin’,” He says with a sleepy voice, “Got up early to get the horses fed and saddled up.”
All you remember is him going to pee outside last night, right before you fell asleep. “Did you ever come to bed last night?”
“Yeah, only got a couple of hours of sleep. You took up most of the bed.”
You clear your throat, becoming hyper-aware suddenly that you are very naked under the blanket. Joel tries not to notice your natural sensuality when you wake up. Sleepy eyes, swollen lips, slightly tangled hair. Even if last night never happened, he would be completely enamored by you. 
“Oh, okay,” You mutter, trying to act natural about the fact that you slept with Joel fucking Miller last night. “We all set then?”
He shuts the front door, cutting off any more cold from slipping in. You watch him slowly start to invade your space. He feels pulled towards you, the gravity overcoming every sense he has. He needs to be close to you, touching you, feeling you. 
“Yeah, we are all set.”
Chills run down your spine when his cold hand reaches out and grazes your cheek. You flick your eyelashes towards him, not knowing what to say next. He dips down to your height, kissing your lips carefully. He is nervous you will back away from him, but you don’t. You lean forward into him, the weight of your entire body pressing into him. 
He is the first to pull away, but you swear you could be latched onto him forever. His big brown eyes are lasered in on your eager lips, but in the back of his mind, he knows that you two need to get back home soon. He promised Tommy four days, nothing more. And you needed to get home to your Dad. Fuck. Your Dad. His fuckin’ friend. 
“We have to get home,” Is all he says. 
And then he’s gone. It’s like he blipped out of the room. You blink and the door slams and you are alone again. 
-
You stumble out of the cabin with your backpack on, your eyes adjusting to the sunshine between the falling away leaves. Winter creeps in so quickly in Wyoming, you think to yourself. 
Joel is already posted up on his horse, waiting for you to hurry along and join him. You pet Ranger for a moment before you hop up onto his back. He can’t help but realize how perfect you seemed in the sunlight. Your face hasn’t aged with time like his. It makes sense because you’re so much younger than him. You’ve lived a very full and traumatic life, sure, but you still had a lot more energy to live. He couldn’t picture that you’d want to spend the rest of it with an older guy with maybe 20 more years left in him if you’re lucky. 
The thoughts start to eat away at him as you two make your way through the forest. 
You assume he’s just tired from not getting a lot of sleep, so you just keep your lips sealed until you make it to the main trail back home. 
“So, when we get home,” You break the quietness with your open-ended statement. Joel doesn’t know what you’re insinuating, so he just keeps his head forward. “What happens, then?”
He pulls back his horse's reins to position himself looking directly at you. 
“What do you mean?”
You look at him suspiciously, “Do we tell people?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel thinks. 
“Tell them what?”
He has to be messing, right? You think. 
But no, he’s deadly serious. 
“About us,” You remark as Ranger trots a bit closer to Joel. He shakes his head and your heart sinks. He can’t do this, not after you two slept together. 
“There is no us,” He grumbles, unable to look you in the eyes anymore, “We can’t do that. You’re too young.”
If you weren’t on a horse, you would’ve already smacked him. “What the hell, Joel? What if you get in my pants and make me feel special and now we are nothing? Because I’m a little bit younger than you?”
“No, it’s not like that-”
“Well, it seems like it is like that,” You bite the inside of your cheeks, holding back every instinct to burst into tears, “Fuckin’ asshole. I should’ve known better.”
-
When the walls of Jackson come into your line of sight, you could cry with excitement. Your hands were shaking, not only from the cold but the nerves. You had been silent the entire ride back. Your only desire was to get home to your Dad and ignore Joel Miller for the rest of your life. 
You can only hope and pray that your father is on the mend. To keep on track and not let panic take over, you’ve tried to put your mind on other things this whole trip. Most of those things you wish you’d forgotten, already. 
The doors open when you two get close. When the crack is big enough to see through, you spot some familiar faces waiting for you. Tommy, Maria, and even your father. He’s standing up straight, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. You tap Ranger with your foot, getting him to speed up. When you reach about 30 feet away, you practically fall off him to get your arms around your father. 
A sense of relief floods your body. A tidal wave of happiness and solace. He’s okay. He’s alive. 
When his scent reaches your nose, it triggers your tear ducts. After years of never having to really worry about him, knowing he can handle himself, you have felt this constant state of uneasiness the last week. 
“My baby is back,” He grumbles into your hair, his arms locking around you, “I knew I could trust that Joel.”
You don’t have time to feel guilt over your actions, you’re just so happy he’s upright. You also don’t want to hear his God-forsaken name from your own Dad. When you pull back to inspect his face, you note the tiredness in his eyes. He looks better, but not his normal. You grab each end of the blanket that’s slowly slipping off his shoulders and bundle him tighter. 
“Let’s get you back in the warm, how ‘bout it?”
You glance back at Joel who just nods, knowingly. You remember that you still have your backpack on, so before you stroll away, you shimmy out of it. Tommy watches you carefully as you hand it off to Joel. 
“Get those meds to the infirmary,” You whisper to no one in particular. Joel studies your face, waiting for you to say something else. You do not. As he grabs your pack, you feel like Maria and Tommy are gawking at you two. Like they know something was left unsaid. 
You two move differently around each other. When you shift one direction, Joel follows suit. 
Joel feels like every eye in Jackson is on him. Tommy’s being the most piercing, watching him like a hawk as he grabs his horse and guides him towards the stables. While you stroll away with Maria and your father, Joel and Tommy bring the horses and supplies to the stables. 
As you walk, you listen to Maria explain your father’s steady recovery. She mentions how Ellie has been keeping a careful eye on him. After she heard you and Joel were going to be gone together, she asked Maria if she could help him somehow. Once your dad got well enough to walk, she got him settled in your house. She’d go over there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just to help. It makes your heart swell when you hear your dad say how kind and generous she was, just like you. 
-
Joel starts to unpack your bags from your horse first when he gets the horses parked. 
“Somethin’ happen out there?” Tommy presses, noticing how odd you and Joel moved in front of him, “With her?”
“No, nothin’,” He lies, placing your bags on a table near Ranger. When he lifted the first duffle bag, he got a whiff of you and it made his stomach sink. “We just had a rough spot in the hospital. Clickers and shit. Nothin’ too crazy-”
“Joel, I know when you’re lyin’ to me,” His eyes are shooting daggers now. Joel was too old to be pestered by his little brother. He groans in annoyance but Tommy does not give up, “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do nothin’, Tommy.”
“Bullshit,” He grumbles, grabbing one of your bags, “Want me to ask her?”
“You won’t get anythin’ out of her. She’s mad at me, okay? She is pissed I won’t…”
He feels humiliated, his stomach twisting into knots. He would never intentionally hurt you. He just put his foot in his mouth when he realized how much your actions would change everything for him. He could not just be someone you slept with. He could not just leave it. 
“You won’t what, Joel?”
He bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud. 
“I won’t let her ruin her life for me.”
Tommy’s eyebrows furrow, not completely understanding what he’s droning on about. 
“What?”
“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Joel wasn’t anticipating a shake-down when he got home. You two really didn’t help with those looks splattered across your faces when you rolled into Jackson.
“You slept with her, didn’t you?”
Joel shakes his head, peeling his eyes away from Tommy. Joel knew nothing could get past him, so he is practically surrendering. Tommy knew then. 
“You dumbass,” He whispers, getting closer to Joel, “You slept with her when her daddy is your patrol partner? After I told you to stay away?”
Joel clenches his teeth, “I don’t need this right now. I’m gettin’ these meds to the infirmary and then I’m takin’ her stuff to her.”
“Joel-”
“Just fuckin’ drop it, Tommy. I ain’t doin’ this.”
-
Your Dad has a nice setup, thanks to Ellie. She has transformed the downstairs guest room into a wonderful stay, with tons of pillows and bedside service. When you get inside the house, Ellie is there. She stands in the corner of the living room, timidly, as you guide your dad back to his warm bed. Maria and her wait for you to handle getting him back to his bedroom. Even though his recovery has been a steady incline, he’s very weak and exhausted all the time. It’s his body’s reaction to fighting a rough illness, but he made sure to reassure you that Sidney told him it’ll be a couple of weeks before he’s 100% back to normal. 
You get him back in bed, his eyes already drooping to find slumber again. You manage to get his shoes off and help him under his covers. Once his head hits the pillow, you stand by the bed for a minute to ensure he’s actually sleeping. You slip out of the room, and the sudden rush of comfort of being home takes over your senses. To hear the crackling of the fireplace, and the smell of your homemade candles. While you enjoyed every moment spent with Joel, there’s nothing like home. 
For a second there, you thought you had that same feeling being next to him in bed. But maybe you were wrong. 
You walk out to where Maria and Ellie stand. They are mumbling to each other while you kick off your boots by the door. 
“Hey, Ellie,” You catch her attention, her freckled face down turning with concern. You smile, trying to ease her, “Thank you for all you’ve done here. I am glad he had someone like you looking after him.”
She nods, her lips twitching, “It’s no problem at all. I know how much you two mean to Joel and I just wanted to do what I could.”
Hearing his name sinks your heart, “We owe ya one.”
Because you did. No matter what would eventually transpire between you and Joel, you owe him your father’s life. His idea saved him. With how sick he was, Joel’s quick plan was enough to bring him home. Then for Ellie to spend her days looking after him while you two were gone? You were forever indebted to them. Sadly. 
“Well, we should leave you to get settled. Let us know if you need anything at all,” Maria gestures to Ellie towards the front door. Their footsteps trail around you, heading to your front door. Before Ellie can reach for the handle, there’s a knock. You nod your head, letting her know it’s okay to open it. 
Joel stands there, your bags in his hands. 
You honestly just left your belongings for him to deal with. Joel looks down at Ellie, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She’s not as impressed, initially. 
“Hey kiddo,” Joel acknowledges, before spotting Maria, “Mrs. Miller.”
“We were just heading out,” Maria says, pushing the door wider so she and Ellie can slip by his large frame, “Give the girl her things and let her settle back into her life, huh?”
Joel was already annoyed at the narrowed eyes and judgemental jabs. It’s like everyone somehow knew he fucked up. 
You two watch Maria and Ellie leave, their breaths forming clouds in the cold sharp air. Jackson’s weather changed overnight, you think, remembering how it was more tolerable before you left. 
“Can I come in?” Joel ponders, still holding your backpack and duffle. 
It was cold and while you wanted to slam the door on him, you know you can’t. You move away from the threshold, gesturing for him to come in. His footfalls are heavy and drawn out. You shut the door, waving him towards the living room so your voices don’t carry down the hallway to your father’s newly set up bedroom. 
He places your bags on the couch before he stretches his shoulders in discomfort. Your stuff was not that heavy, but Joel could not help but try to draw your attention. He glances around your living room, taking in some of the artwork and photos that line the walls. Some are old photos of you and your father, in which you don’t really resemble him at all. 
“Back to how things were, huh?” You remark, bitterly. You wanted to attack him with every mean thing plaguing your mind, but you don’t. You were tired from all the travels but you were also tired of the idea of fighting for someone who does not care to fight for you back. You had done that for years with pointless boys. 
The whole walk to your house, Joel’s thoughts were moving a million miles a minute. He did not want you to live your life resenting him. He cared for you deeply, but he did not want you to miss out on all the wonders of life. Joel could not give you kids. He could not give you 40 more years of happiness. He would be an elderly man before you could even reach menopause. He does not want you to regret things when you’re old and gray. 
“I don’t want that. You know damn well I don’t want that.”
You could scream. But you stay even, not giving in to the temptation to just rip him a new one. 
“I don’t know what you want, Joel. One minute you’re kissin’ me and begging to be with me, the next you’re telling me you can’t be with me because I’m too young.”
“Baby-”
“No! Don’t you dare? You had no intention of making this a thing, yet you played into it and got exactly what you wanted. I’m just another notch for you, ain’t I?”
Your hands are clenched, waiting for his delayed response. You are embarrassed and humiliated that you were delusional enough to let Joel toy with every one of your emotions. 
“You know that ain’t true, girl. I just don’t want you to live your life regretting that I was a part of it, okay? You want to spend your days with an old man who can’t give you everything you want? ’m not good for you.”
He can’t let you make this mistake. 
But you’re not easing up. 
“What do you think I want? Kids? A simple life? A picket fence? Joel those are things I wanted when I was living in a world that didn’t have a brain-eating infection that’d turn people into zombies,” You’re huffing and puffing, trying to understand why he thinks he can tell you what you need and want. 
“I spent years of my life wishing I could get those things, but I gave up a long ass time ago. I don’t want those things nearly as much as I want you. I fuckin’ want you, okay?”
You realize you’re not being quiet and your Dad could probably hear every word falling from your lips. He can hear you desperately plead with Joel Miller to be with you. 
Joel is shocked you’re laying all this out. He can’t believe his ears when you say you want him. A man like him being wanted is quite unbelievable, especially by a woman like you. 
You could hear a pin drop with how silent your house is. You fold your arms, trying not to give into the nausea you feel from spilling your soul to him. 
“I just…” He fidgets with his hands for a minute before those puppy eyes glance up at you, “I don’t want to ruin your life.”
You step closer to him, your face inches away from him. You train your eyes on his mouth, unsure how to respond to such blasphemy. 
“I have spent so many days thinking about what it’d be like to live in a world where the Joel Miller would even glance in my direction. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him,” You’re whispering now, making sure this revelation is for his ears only, “I imagined what it’d be like to have a man who’d treat me well and look… Exactly like you. I have dreamed of you.”
Joel would have never guessed such a statement fall from your lips. 
You breathe out, relieved it’s finally off your chest.
“I just don’t want to leave ya worse than I found ya,” His softness instantly makes you crumble into his arms. He holds you tight, before pulling away to search your face. You teeter forward on your toes, pressing a firm but attentive kiss to his lips. 
When you draw back, “I’m not givin’ you up, Joel.”
The tension is shattered when you hear your Dad yell your name from down the hallway. You snap out of your trance of staring at Joel’s beautiful lips and dart toward the voice. 
“Yeah?”
You open the door and see him, his eyes wide open and focused on the door. 
“Who you talking to out there? Is that Joel?”
Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of every word you just said, scared half to death that your Dad would get out of bed and beat some sense into you. Joel follows you down the dimly lit hallway, but you don’t even hear him, too rattled by your father’s question. 
“Yes, it’s me,” Joel speaks up, coming forward to meet your Dad’s confused expression, “How you feelin’, man?”
“I’m feelin’ like I’m hearing some odd things from down the hall. You two fighting?” His voice is breaking a bit. 
The silence after he asks the question is deafening. You glance over to Joel whose mouth is slightly ajar, unable to move with an answer. You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you could disappear into the wall nearby. 
Joel cannot lie to his friend. He certainly would never do it with you right beside him. 
“Yeah, you uh, heard us?” He barely manages. 
“Yeah, I sure as hell heard my daughter beggin’ you to take her on, is that true?”
“Dad-“
“My daughter wants to date a man that’s 10 years younger than her own father? Kind of twisted.” He snaps, shoving the blankets off his legs. “But, I am gonna be honest… I expected this.”
You can hardly breathe with the tension in the air. 
“Sorry?”
Joel’s tone is dry, and he’s unable to fully form a coherent thought. 
Your dad coughs before he starts, “Well, I could tell by the way you looked at her that you had a thing for her, Miller. Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to entertain it.”
“Dad, he’s not dum-“
“And I thought you’d get over this little schoolgirl crush, but I was mistaken, I guess.”
You were used to your Dad’s sarcasm and upfront jabs. You spent a lifetime throwing them back at him, but this time you had nothing to say. You watch as he settles back from obnoxiously tearing off his blankets. 
You fiddle with your fingers, trying not to show your internal anxiety-riddled monologue. He thought you’d get over your crush. He always noticed how Joel looked at you. How did he look at you? How did you never notice?
Joel is spiraling, reverting to his original conclusions. He knew this was a horrible idea. He should have never stepped over the line. He’s a horrible man. You don’t deserve someone as awful as him. 
He smacks his lips, making you and Joel come back down to Earth and out of your heads. 
“Whatever is happenin’ between you two, I probably will never fully understand it. But you are adults, you do whatever makes you happy,” He says with both hands up in surrender, “I am too old to bother with my daughter’s love life. She’s a big girl, I trust her. But Miller, if you hurt her-“
“I’m a dead man.”
Your father laughs which in turn makes you smile crookedly. 
“Just one thing,” He points to you, “I don't want to hear or see anythin’-”
You nod, cutting him off immediately, “Deal.”
Joel catches your eye when he smiles in your peripheral vision. You look over at him, a grin plastered to your face. 
You can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. 
And Joel can’t believe your father somewhat agreed to let it happen. He was sure he would have a gun in his face before he could even mutter a word. But instead, your Dad is receptive to him being with you, which is all you can ask for. 
“Well, get along now, I wanna get back to sleep. You two were keepin’ me up,” Your dad grumbles, readjusting his frail frame to get comfortable in bed. You just nod, pointing at the door for Joel to exit. You follow suit, closing the door behind you tightly, making sure it clicks. Joel stands in the darkness of the hallway, waiting. He is in disbelief. 
You just take one of his hands and bring it to your lips, softly pressing a kiss into his knuckles. 
“Let’s go get cleaned up and take a nap,” You murmur, walking him to the end of the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He accepts the offer, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. 
You were not sure where this was all going to end up. Neither of you did. But you could not wait to carve the way with him, bringing every last one of your daydreams to life.
THE END
or is it? I have started writing snippets to go along with this story- if you want more, here's the link:
No One Fucks With My Baby
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pseudowho · 6 months ago
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18+, pwp, Authoritative!Higuruma
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Ever since he could remember, Hiromi needed to fiddle, with his hands or his mouth. Since taking up, and then quitting, an unsavoury smoking habit (the perfect solution for a man who liked something between his lips, and something to excuse himself from unwanted social gatherings for), he had, instead, a pile of chewed pens, and overclicked pens, and ties with frayed ends.
In the evenings, and the dark blanketing night, however, his fidget toy was you. The living room was dark, and warm, the dull orange glow of a vintage Edison bulb in the corner, the only illumination. With your back to Hiromi's chest, and your knees draped apart over his spidery legs, what he did to you beneath the blanket was a mystery to anyone but the two of you.
Hushed, heavy breaths, and weak little moans broke through the gloom. Any time you squirmed too much, Hiromi selfishly restrained you, trapping you back against him. One of your fingers was trapped within his mouth, being licked, licked, licked, by the hot flick of the tip of his tongue.
Hiromi watched the documentary intently, his face cast in stark shadow. His fingers moved constantly, his thumb and forefinger pinched softly around your clit, rolling and flicking over the little nub with gentle insistence. Pleasure pooled hot and deep between your legs, climbing up your thighs and belly. He barely seemed to hear your cries, simply resting his chin on your head, and yanking you back to him whenever you squirmed yourself out of his grip.
Hiromi had lost another case, that afternoon. One that wounded him, deeply. After arriving home with taut shoulders, and exhausted, angry eyes, you had had to rescue him from the shower, where clearly, he was trying to drown himself. He hadn't spoken a word to you. But, he had been intermittently clicking his fingers, rolling a stress ball in his hand...and you shivered, knowing where that stress would be directed.
"Does that feel good?" Hiromi whispered, deep voice husky against the side of your throat, his eyes still fixed on the television. His tone was lazy, emotionally blank after the extreme stress of the day. As if, somehow, your pleasure was secondary to his need to relax. It was so unlike him...except, for when the cracks appeared, and he became selfish, convicted, authoritative in a way that sent shivers down your spine. He never looked at you with such cold disregard, as he did when he was emotionally spent from fighting the unwinnable fight.
"...f-fuck...Hiro...need to cum, don-don't leave me like-like this, haaaaahhh...please..."
His response to your whimpers was visceral, though; his cock twitched, fat and thick in his pyjamas, against the small of your back. It annoyed him. He was too stressed to cum. His orgasm would be dry, and painful, and would force him to fuck you again, in a way he didn't have the energy to, just to rid himself of that creamy poison.
"Need something inside you too, I suppose." Hiromi mused, pissed off. "Shit...don't wanna move. Just need...need to relax." His other hand slid under your top, locating your hypersensitive nipple and rolling, flicking, twisting, just as he did to your poor, aching clit. You cried out, colours fizzing in your vision as your back arched, and Hiromi slammed you back against him with a grunt of irritation. He sighed, heavy and resigned. You were letting him use you. He supposed he ought to return the favour, and did so only begrudgingly.
"Get my cock out for me. There's a good girl." You felt Hiromi's breath hitch as your trembling little hand grabbed the silky length of him, his cock heavy, throbbing in your palm. Hiromi shifted you on his lap, your pussy slick and wet with arousal as Hiromi continued to overwork you. You saw stars to feel his cockhead nuzzle at your entrance. Hiromi still watched the television, his eyes dark and seething, so tired of catering to the needs of others.
"Get it in," Hiromi mumbled, his lips and tongue working at your earlobe, "and fuck yourself on me as much as you need to. I don't care. Just don't make me work, please."
You did as you were told, sliding yourself down onto Hiromi's cock, deliciously filled and stretched, belly deep. So close already with how he pinched around your clit, selfishly holding you down so his anxious fingers could continue working, just a few frantic bucks downwards had you reeling. You came with a guttural moan, twitching and convulsing around him, your pussy milking at him, hungry for his seed.
Hiromi felt a sharp, aggressive peak approach, and hissed, teeth gritted, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. "--shit-- SHIT-- too much, fuck-- not gonna-- gonna be no cum-- arghhh ffffuck--"
Hiromi's balls clenched tight, his cock leaping and bounding...but nothing came, just a dry orgasm with no milky spend and no release. Hiromi was blinded by dreadful pleasure, fucking upwards hard into you, desperately trying to make his balls release something, anything.
Riled now, with an overbearing need to cum, Hiromi threw his head back onto the sofa with a growl, while you panted, plugged and spent, impaled on his cock. Hiromi pulled out, turning you round to face him. His hand stroked his cock, lubricated by your juices, with slick little plap plap plaps. Still hyperstressed, needy and commanding, he tangled one strong, gentle hand in your hair. The fire in his eyes broached no argument.
"On your knees," Hiromi ordered, trying to masturbate himself to orgasm, but failing, "and let me fuck your mouth."
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randomshyperson · 10 months ago
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Borrowed - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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Summary: Wanda develops the habit of stealing your clothes, and you develop the habit of fucking her wearing them. 
Warnings: (+18), bottom!Wanda (a bit bratty), established relationship, slightly of power dynamics, dry humping/clothed for a bit, oral (w), fingering (w), strap on (w), some dirty talking, a bit overstimulation. | Words: 2.289k
A/N-> This is actually an old idea, someone on Tumblr, not sure who, wrote an image about Wanda using our favorite hoodie, and I actually love all fics that have this dynamic so I decided to do a small fic about it.
General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3
-&-
You were starting to think you were being robbed.
It was a plausible conclusion, considering how rarely you were out of uniform and the very few moments when you had the freedom to wear more comfortable clothes, and how quickly your sweatshirts disappeared from your closet.
With a frustrated sigh, and your hair still damp from the shower, you stared at the empty drawer for a long, reflective moment, trying to find solutions to the disappearance of all your hoodies.
Even after checking the other drawers, the laundry basket and even the compound's laundry room, you had no success. You were forced to make your way back to your rooms with your arms shivering from the cold, and a disappointed expression on your little mission.
Instead of returning to your room, however, you skipped to the next door, hoping to talk to your girlfriend and ask her if she had any idea where you'd forgotten your coats.
To your surprise, the answer came the same second your eyes met the figure distracted by a sitcom on the television; right there on the bed was Wanda, wearing nothing but your favorite hoodie that wasn't even the right size - nothing surprising when one steals clothes from a super soldier - but which she seemed to be making good use of.
"Wanda!" Your exclamation of surprise made her take her eyes off the DVD immediately. At first, she thought you were just saying hello, and smiled in your direction. But your face frowned and it was her turn to look at you curiously. "I can't believe you."
She makes a quick assessment of the facts in the seconds it takes for you to close the door and approach the bed; she doesn't reckon to have done anything wrong. You two spoke earlier, you even had a heated and inappropriate make-out session in the garage when you arrived, and she had dinner next to you before you left the living room to take a shower. No arguments, no news she forgot to tell you.
But you chuckled incredulously at the cluelessness on her face, and occupying the field of view between the bed and the television, you commented;
"I'm quite cold, you know that?" Wanda grinned in relief at your phrase. She doesn't have time to tease you about being clingy. You slowly lean your body towards her, effectively pinning Wanda to the mattress as you hover over her. All Wanda can do is sigh in anticipation, and her stomach feels already full of butterflies. 
"I can warm you up." She lets out an inviting sigh, but although your eyes take on a darker hue, you smirk and extend the distance again. Wanda bites her lip, trying to hold back a complaint fearing that you would torment her and make her beg for it, but you take your hands off the mattress and place them on her waist.
With gentle tugs on the sweatshirt, you comment; "I'm sure you can, darling. You look quite warm."
Another gentle tug on the fluffy fabric and Wanda understood. She didn't look the least bit guilty about being caught, though. Adjusting herself comfortably on the bed, she gave you the most innocent smile she could manage.
You pulled the hoodie up just a few centimeters, biting your lip at the thin lace panties that were the only thing separating her intimacy from your thigh now.
"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" You ask, your hands moving under your hoodie, teasing her skin with gentle touches that make Wanda strangle on her own breath.
She quickly denies it with a nod, but when your fingers give a warning tug to her nipples, she squeals audibly.
"S-sorry!" She panted aroused, her shaky legs trying to force you down. But your body stands firm above her, and the difference in strength never fails to leave her frustrated and terribly wet. "I just... like them. Smells like you." She confesses, hoping that her sincerity is enough for you to forgive her and help her with the throbbing between her legs.
You hum distractedly, your palms leisurely playing with her breasts under the hoodie until you turn Wanda into a whining mess underneath you.
Your firm thigh between her legs also serves as a torturous stimulation - even for you, it's hard to keep up the slow, teasing pace while you have the deliriously hot, wet sensation of Wanda's pussy rubbing against your skin. When you catch a bead of sweat running down her forehead from all the teasing, you chuckle wickedly.
"Wow, I bet this one is starting to bother you." Your hands come out to tug the hoodie down, and Wanda grunts softly, offering begging eyes to you. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Are you hot?"
She nods almost shyly, a little guilt finally slipping through her irises. Not for the act of stealing your clothes, but for the fact that she was caught and will be punished for it.
You smile, your hands settling back on the mattress so that you can lie on top of her, without wasting time to break the distance between your faces now.
Wanda moans as soon as she feels your tongue on hers, so hungry and experienced, stealing the air from her lungs and making her see stars. She struggles to match the intensity of the kiss, very much because you allow her to use your thigh as she pleases, and she is feverishly grinding herself back into your skin in search of relief of the hot knot in her lower belly. You stop kissing her when she can only return breathy moans to your lips, and decide to mark the skin of her collarbone while Wanda builds up her own orgasm, her eyes closed and her nails digging into your now shivering arms for another reason. 
It's definitely too hot - The padded hoodie is uncomfortable as the liquid arousal courses through her veins and her body jerks, but every time Wanda makes an attempt to pull the item off her, strong hands push the garment back into place. Until finally you grab her wrists and prevent further attempts while holding her firmly. 
You bite her lobe also panting against her neck next, as you let her move her hips at will. When Wanda starts to pant a little heavier than before, you can tell that she is close.
 "Are you really gonna come, baby? I never got to take your panties off." 
She opens her mouth to tell you to go ahead and take them off, but the teasing alone pushes her over the edge, and what escapes her is a throaty moan. Her body stiffens under yours, and her eyes roll back before she goes limp. You release her wrists, pulling your knee away from her over-stimulated cunt, and watch your girlfriend's satisfied, breathless expression for a moment.
When your face comes into focus again, Wanda smiles as she realizes that you were also stroking her sweaty hair out of her face.
"Hey." She greets you first, her body still twitching and tingling with pleasure. "Are you really mad about the hoodie?"
You giggle, denying it with a nod before kissing her. It's chaste because she's still trying to get back into orbit and there's no scene more beautiful to behold than Wanda Maximoff blushing in the aftermath of an orgasm.
"You can steal my clothes all you want." You assure her meekly, before sliding your hands back under the fabric. "Just keep in mind that I will want to fuck you in every one of them."
Wanda bites back a smile, sighing as she feels your fingers reach her sides to pull down her ruined panties. She swallows dryly as she realizes that you're lowering your body as well.
"I'm counting on it, darling." She murmurs quietly, hoping you won't pick up on her secret intentions. But of course you do, and let out a husky giggle against her thigh that makes Wanda sigh. "I meant-"
"Oh, I heard you well." You interrupt her, scratching your teeth into her skin and making Wanda twitch in anticipation, the muscles in her spread legs flexing. She risks looking down, only to meet your dark eyes and wince under your gaze. "How bad do you want me to fuck you, Wanda?"
She swallows dryly, her trembling hands trying to grab onto the sheets but everything is so hot and uncomfortable inside that hoodie that Wanda thinks if she doesn't undress soon she might collapse.
"Please." She mewls, her hips thrusting up towards your face. "I need you." She baits you so easily that you ignore the fact that you were trying some form of punishment. Wanda throws her head back on the pillow harshly as you nuzzle her drenched intimacy, the evidence of her last, almost embarrassing quick climax glistening in your direction. You kiss her thighs, teasing your way until she's whimpering again and you finally think you've had enough. Your tongue isn't gentle, Wanda hasn't behaved well in recent weeks as a naughty brat appearing in shorter and shorter skirts every time you need to leave the compound for a mission, or disturbing your meals and workouts with vivid images of all the other activities you could be doing that always involve her ruined beneath you.
So you're not gentle. You eat her out like your last meal, licking all over her previous climax before sucking her little clit and sinking your face between her legs, your strong hands holding her legs wide open as her body betrays her and tries to escape the pacing. The next orgasm overtakes her without any difficulties, and you haven't even fingered her yet when Wanda pours herself out for the second time that night. She's still whimpering when one of your hands lets go of her bruised thigh so that your fingers can sink into her pussy and Wanda hears the sheet rip in her palm as she tries to find some ground.
She also grabs a fistful of your hair, panting as you raise your eyes to her, your fingers in frantic rhythm inside her pussy. Breathless, she tries to hold your gaze as she risks to guide your movements:
"Yes, darling. Just like that." 
But you raise an eyebrow, and Wanda only has time to blink before all your movements are interrupted. You steal one orgasm from her as quickly as you start to build another; your hands spin her around on the bed and Wanda finds herself with her face pressed against the pillow and your body on top of hers. The rub of a familiar hardness against her ass makes her whine in need.
"It's cute when you think you're in charge." You whisper, filthily licking her neck and eliciting a loud moan from the witch. With her panties long discarded on the bedroom floor, you have no trouble pulling your rubber cock out of your pants and forcing it between Wanda's spread legs. She almost screams at the unannounced intrusion, but with the wetness of the last few orgasms, the toy slides in with ease. You pant softly as you bottom up. With your mouth inches from her ear, your hips begin a slow, steady rhythm inside her as you whisper; "It's your favorite, Wands. I left everything ready so I could fill you up just the way you like it." She whines into the pillow, clutching your fake cock tightly enough that you need to push a little harder to move. You kiss behind her ear before moving one of your hands to her tit again. Wanda's skin is burning under the warm clothes. "I put it on as soon as I got out of the shower." You let her know as you thrust deep inside her. "You really don't need to steal my clothes, baby. Hoodie or no hoodie, I would have fucked you tonight."
She comes harder than before this time, and with her impossibly tight, you don't see any point in holding back. Wanda is still coming when you fill her, the hot spurt inside her walls prolonging her climax and turning her into a babbling mess on the mattress.
You take pity on her. You pull your cock out of her fucked-up pussy, biting your lips at the sight of the leaking cum coming out of her before focusing on removing the sweaty, cum-soaked hoodie from your girlfriend's body.
Wanda tries to fight the exhaustion of three orgasms in a row, but she can barely keep her eyes open. It's been a long week.
You grip the rubber cock, adjusting your hips and rubbing the toy against Wanda's folds again, making her whine in protest, one of her hands desperate to grab your wrist and keep you out.
You hum attentively, although you don't penetrate her, you let the dildo slide on top of her clit, enjoying the way Wanda struggles to keep still.
"Had enough?" You ask even though you're able to watch her pussy clenching desperately at the emptiness, her body instinctively begging for more. Wanda gasps, her hips trying to buck away from the overstimulation only for her to end up rubbing against the bed during the attempt and eliciting a pathetic whimper from herself.
"Five." She gasps breathlessly. "Five minutes."
Your hips move away, and you stand up to remove your clothes while Wanda twitches and tries to catch her breath again on the bed. 
She reacts immediately to the lack of your warmth against her, seeking your presence by turning her head. An exchange of glances is enough to let you know that she just needs the time it takes for you to get the handcuffs from the bottom drawer.
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wifeyoozi · 3 months ago
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Wonwoo formulated the best method to help you ace your test (tw : overstim, edging, fingering)
The room was quiet, the only sound the ticking of a clock somewhere in the background. Wonwoo sat behind you on the bed, his legs spread, his back resting against the headboard. You were perched on his lap, naked, your back pressed against his chest. His large hands rested on your thighs, fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin, sending shivers up your spine.
You could feel the heat of his body, the hardness of him pressing against your lower back. Your heart raced, not just from the close proximity, but from what was about to happen.
“Ready?” Wonwoo asked, his voice low and calm.
You swallowed hard and nodded, your throat dry.
“Remember, if you get it right, I’ll reward you,” he murmured in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin. “But if you get it wrong… there’ll be consequences.”
You shivered at the dark promise in his voice, your nerves tingling with anticipation and a hint of fear.
Wonwoo’s hand moved from your thigh, his fingers sliding between your legs to rest against your clit. You gasped at the contact, your hips instinctively shifting toward his touch. He chuckled softly, but didn’t give you more, just a light, teasing pressure that made you ache for more.
“First question,” he said, his voice even. “What’s the derivative of \( e^{x^2} \)?”
You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing as you tried to focus on the question despite the distraction of his fingers.
“Um… the derivative of \( e^{x^2} \) is… 2x times \( e^{x^2} \),” you answered, your voice trembling.
“Good girl,” Wonwoo praised, and his fingers began to move in slow, deliberate circles over your clit, the pressure just enough to make you moan softly.
The pleasure built slowly, a delicious ache that made it hard to concentrate, but you knew you had to stay focused if you wanted more.
“Next question,” Wonwoo said after a moment, his voice still calm, though you could feel the tension in his body. “What is the Fourier transform of a Gaussian function?”
You bit your lip, trying to push the pleasure to the back of your mind and focus on the question.
“The Fourier transform of a Gaussian function is… another Gaussian function,” you answered, barely managing to keep your voice steady.
“Very good,” Wonwoo murmured, his fingers moving faster, pressing harder against your clit. The pleasure spiked, making you whimper as your hips bucked against his hand, seeking more.
But then he stopped. His fingers stilled, resting just on the edge of pleasure, not enough to push you over.
Your breath hitched, the sudden absence of movement driving you crazy with need.
“Next question,” Wonwoo said, his voice taking on a darker edge. “What’s the solution to Schrödinger’s equation for a particle in a one-dimensional box?”
Your mind went blank for a moment, the ache between your legs distracting you from the question. You knew this, you knew you knew this, but the pleasure was clouding your thoughts.
“It’s… it’s… the wavefunction… is sinusoidal inside the box and zero outside,” you stammered, your voice desperate, hoping you got it right.
“Close,” Wonwoo said, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment, “but not quite correct.”
He pulled his hand away completely, and you whimpered in frustration, your body aching with need. But then, without warning, his hand came down hard on your thigh, the sharp sting making you gasp.
“Wrong answer,” Wonwoo said, his tone stern. “We start over.”
You bit back a whine, your skin tingling from where he had smacked you. But you knew the rules. You had to get it right if you wanted your reward.
Wonwoo’s hand returned to your clit, his fingers teasing you lightly, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to satisfy.
“What is an inner orbital complex?” he asked, his voice calm, as if he wasn’t driving you to the brink of madness with every touch.
You tried to focus, tried to push the frustration away and think clearly.
“its, uhm, the octahedral complex with d²sp³ hybridization which has... uh... lesser number of unpaired electrons,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with desperation.
“Very good,” Wonwoo praised, and his fingers resumed their slow, torturous pace. The pleasure built again, slowly driving you closer to the edge, making your hips move involuntarily against his hand.
“Next question,” he said after a moment, his voice steady. “What is the Riemann hypothesis?”
You took a deep breath, trying to focus despite the haze of pleasure clouding your mind.
“The Riemann hypothesis… states that all nontrivial zeros of the Riemann zeta function have a real part of one-half,” you answered, your voice quivering.
“Perfect,” Wonwoo murmured, and his fingers sped up, pushing you closer and closer to release. You could feel the pleasure building, the tight knot in your stomach coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap.
But then he stopped again, his fingers leaving you just on the edge, so close to release but not quite there. You whimpered, your body trembling with need.
“Next question,” he said, his voice dark with promise. “Second law of thermodynamics is?”
You tried to think, but the frustration and the aching need made it hard to focus. You knew the answer, you knew you did, but your mind was foggy, clouded with desire.
“It’s… uhm… in any natural process, the total entropy of an isolated system will always increase over time” you finally managed to say, your voice almost a whine.
“Excellent,” Wonwoo said, his voice approving, and this time, his fingers didn’t stop. He kept moving, faster and faster, harder and harder, until the pleasure became overwhelming. You could feel it building, reaching its peak, and then—
You came hard, your body convulsing on his lap, a strangled cry escaping your lips as the orgasm crashed over you. Your vision went white, your mind blanking out with the intensity of the pleasure as you squirted onto his hand.
But Wonwoo didn’t stop. He continued to move his fingers, prolonging your release, making your body tremble and twitch with aftershocks of pleasure.
When you finally came down from your high, your body was spent, your legs trembling, but the satisfaction on Wonwoo’s face made it all worth it.
He brought his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers clean with a satisfied hum.
“You did well,” he said, his voice soft, almost tender. “But we’re not finished yet.”
You barely had time to register his words before he was touching you again, his fingers slipping back between your legs, teasing your oversensitive clit.
You whimpered, but your body responded eagerly, the need building once more despite the exhaustion.
“Let’s see how many more times you can cum for me,” Wonwoo murmured, his voice dark with promise.
And so the cycle began again, his fingers driving you to the edge of bliss over and over until you were a trembling, whimpering mess on his lap, your mind hazy with pleasure, your body aching with the sweet agony of being pushed to your limits.
By the time he was done, you had lost count of how many times you came, your body sore and spent, but completely satisfied.
Wonwoo held you close, his arms wrapped around you as you both caught your breath, the room filled with the sound of your soft panting.
“You did so well,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You’re going to ace that exam.”
You smiled weakly, too exhausted to respond, but knowing that no matter what happened, this study session was one you would never forget.
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dark-moonlust · 4 months ago
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Bonds Of Fate: Comission for @dragonqueen2021
I had a great time writing this. I absolutely love how it turned out. Happy reading everyone!
I have one commission slot open on Patreon if you’re interested. I will add more slots when I am less busy!
Pairing: Centaur (Leon) x Werewolf (Val) x fem!human (Melisa)
Summary: Melisa is struggling to get away from the men who are chasing her only to stumble upon a towering werewolf and centaur. They protect her and sense she is their mate. They show her that no matter how reluctant she is, that they belong together.
Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, explicit smut, fingering, magic to fit, huge 🍆, p in v sex, oral, dp, lots 💦.
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They were catching up on her.
Melisa pumped her legs, her heart pounding in her chest. She ran through the forest, her breathing ragged. Her knees were weak, her clothes torn by branches but she didn’t dare slow down. Not with the men chasing right behind her, leering and shouting. They were four of them. They’d tried to attack her but she’d fled from them, sprinting like the devil was chasing her. But she had no chances unless by some miracle someone stronger intervened.
But she didn’t believe in miracles. Only in herself.
And right now, the only solution was to keep running and eventually lose them in the woods.
Desperate, she took a sharp turn, darting around trees and over fallen logs. The voices became distant and suddenly, a small ray of hope appeared in the shape a small cabin. Help! Maybe she could get help there, or at least a place to hide. She ran to the cabin, frantic and terrified. She stumbled over a branch, lost balance—
But the fall never came.
She had crashed into something solid and warm.
She looked up and a gasp left her dry lips. No… no this couldn’t be!
Two massive figures surrounded her, dwarfing her small frame. The one holding her was a werewolf, tall and towering with dark fur, amber eyes and a scowling mouth, revealing sharp fangs. His furry arms encompassed her waist. His hold was tight but strangely, gentle enough. Next to her was a centaur, his chiselled human torso merging into the body of a large, muscular horse. His face was sharp and handsome, his animal mane an earthy dark brown, like his eyes.
Melisa struggled to escape, but the werewolf didn’t loosen his hold and kept staring at her with his shining amber eyes. 
That was when the centaur talked, “She’s terrified. Be gentle with her.”
The werewolf sniffed the air. “Someone’s coming. Four of them.”
Melissa trembled at that and struggled to find her voice. “P… please, they’re after me.”
Before she could explain further, the group of men had caught up. They burst into the clearing and stopped short when they saw the werewolf and centaur shielding her. The men exchanged uneasy glances but didn’t back down. They held up their weapons and circled them.
“It’s four of us against two of you,” one of the men sneered. “Beasts or not, we can take you.”
The centaur stepped forward, his hooves thudding on the ground. “Leave. Now.”
“Hand over the woman and we’ll leave,” another man demanded, his leery eyes on Melisa. “She’s ours.”
The werewolf growled, his eyes flashing dangerously. “She belongs to no one.”
“You’re in our land”, the centaur warned, his behaviour more controlled. “Leave now or pay the price. The woman is under our protection.”
The men didn’t heed the warning.
They lunged forward, weapons poised high. But they were no match for them. Keeping Melisa tucked between their bodies, her protectors struck, hooves and claws tricking out. They pushed back her attackers, knocking their weapons with deadly punches and feral growls. The fight ended as quickly as it had begun and the men retreated, bruised and barely able to walk, fleeing with screeching cries.
Melisa looked at her saviours with wide eyes, gratitude and fear for what came next flooding her heart. She huddled into a small ball on the ground, her mind reeling. They’d saved her but what now? Was she dead meat? At their mercy? Humans spread all kinds of horrible rumours about creatures like them.
“You’re safe now,” the werewolf kneeled beside her, his eyes on her. “I’m Leon. You are safe.”
“I am Val,” the centaur said, “no one will harm you. Why were they after you?”
Melissa took a deep breath and peeked at them. “Bad intentions. I did nothing wrong I swear!”
“We believe you,” Val said. “And we’ll protect you. No one will dare lay a hand on you.”
“You won’t eat me?” Melisa said and heard them laugh.
“We don’t eat humans, little one,” Leon said, the timbre of his voice tender. Not the way you think, he thought but kept it to himself. He didn’t want to terrify her.
“Promise?” Melisa asked, her heart beating frantically within her chest.
“We promise,” Leon said and slowly reached for her hands. They were small and soft in contrast to his own rough palms. 
She tensed at the touch but did not draw away. 
Val also knelt, leaning down to frame her cheek. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, his tone so soft that somehow eased her.
“You’re here now,” Leon said and before she could react, he sniffed her, his snout burying in her hair.
Melisa shivered but again, she didn’t move. Something inside her made her feel safe with them, something that told her it was okay. Leon and Val exchanged looks, their faces unreadable. Just then, she felt an inexplicable pull, something squeezing her heart. Something strange was happening. She felt hot and she also felt the warmth radiating from their bodies.
Val’s hand tangled into her hair, his breath hot against her forehead. “Found you,” he uttered, growling deep from within his chest.
“F-found what?” she stuttered, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. It awakened feelings she hadn’t expected to feel and they went straight to her pussy. Warmth pooling, aching delightfully. 
“Yessss, so good,” Leon inhaled the air, his baritone causing another shiver of arousal.
“Such a sweet scent,” Val said, his mane brushing against her skin.
“What’s going on?” Melisa attempted to crawl away, but their gazes held her captive.
“Mate,” Val explained. “You’re our mate.”
“No!” She took a step back, away from their tempting touches. “That’s impossible. We can’t! We can’t do this.”
“We’ll protect you. You have nothing to be afraid of,” Val said and lifted her, pulling her chest to chest.
“Please…” Melisa’s lips quivered, her eyes brimming with tears. She was suspended in the air, pressed so tightly against the centaur’s broad chest.
“Shh… my sweet love.”
And then Val was kissing her, his hands cupping her face, keeping her there for his sweet assault. Melisa squirmed but relented with a sigh, giving in to the pressure of his body and lips. A moan left her when the full length of Leon’s body rubbed against her back. The werewolf was hugging her from behind, spreading licks and kissed across her neck.
“Yes,” Val whispered. “Don’t be afraid. Let us scent you.”
Before she could protest, Leon angled her head to the side and tasted her lips as well. Melisa moaned, and he took advantage, his tongue slipping past her mouth, tasting, claiming. More moans left her as he kissed and fed from her mouth, her resolve wavering, her body betraying her.
She was shamefully wet, her nipples tight and aching.
And they knew, or more rightly, they sensed.
The haze of need took over her senses as they kissed her, taking turns claiming her mouth, their tongues brushing with hers. Before she realized, Val’s hands were tugging at her clothes, fingers fumbling with the buttons of her shirt while Leon tugged down her pants and panties. They cooperated despite her reluctance, their hands pulling everything off until she was naked, fully bared to them.
Melisa shook all over and not from the cold.
She was naked, arousal pooling in her belly.
And they were naked too. Leon had dragged off his pants, revealing a thick veiny cock and two heavy balls hanging from between. Val had also removed the harness that concealed his shaft and her eyes widened at the massive size of it. It was thicker than Leon’s though not as long.
Still… the sight of them so well-endowed, made her cower a little.
Val shifted a little, so he did not terrify her with his size and turned her over so she was facing Leon. The centaur’s warm chest pressed against her back while the werewolf bent, his fur teasing her nipples. His tongue traced the curve of her neck, while Val’s lips pressed gentle kisses to her temple. When their hands started roaming her body, Melisa bit her lip hard as not to whine. Val’s human hands trailed her slender shoulders then cupped the swell of her breasts. He kneaded the sensitive flesh, thumbs flicking her sensitive nipples.
“So soft,” Val said, pinching her nipples lightly and causing her to arch and whimper.
“Hmm…” Leon hummed from where he trailed kisses down her stomach, his tongue dipping into her bellybutton. His lips danced between her legs but Melisa kept them shut tightly.
“Nn…nooo,” she muttered while Val’s lips found her neck, suckling gently.
“Open sweetheart,” Leon rasped, his thumbs rubbing her thighs invitingly. “Open for us.”
“We’re going to make you feel so good,” Val said, his breath hot against her ear.
Leons’s hands stayed on her legs while he took a nipple into his warm mouth. He circled the bud causing her to moan then took it into his mouth, suckling. Melissa wiggled helplessly between them. They had trapped her, trapped her between their strong bodies and she felt no fear, only desire. Mindbreaking desire. Eventually, her legs opened and Leon’s hand slid between them, his fingers teasing her folds.
“Fuuuuck,” Leon growled, his warm breath fanning over her core. “She’s even softer here. Warm and soaked.”
Melissa gasped, her body trembling as Leon spread her out and made room for Val to slide his fingers and feel her as well. The centaur manipulated her folds, his fingers probing her moist entrance while Leon found her clit, teasing the bud with feather-light strokes.
“Oh god,” she moaned, her knees weakening.
Val grasped her from under the knees, lifting her back against him, opening and exposing her in all her glory. Leon retracted his claws and rubbed his finger back and forth on her little cunt. He lubricated that finger in her juices, then thrust it inside her slick heat. Melisa whimpered as that digit, as thick as a human dick, curled deep inside her. It stretched her pussy, delightfully so.
Immense warmth spread through her as they teased her, her toes curling in the air. Leon’s eyes were shining amber, she noticed, and Val was rubbing her clit, murmuring words in a language she couldn’t understand. Her pussy tingled, her muscles seizing. Her mind was a whirl of sensation and arousal, and soon their strokes pushed her over the edge, stars flashing in her vision.
“Wh…what did you do?” she panted watching where they were still caressing her. With shock she noticed that both their fingers were deep, very deep inside her, stretching her pussy at its limits. But she felt no discomfort at the stretch.
“That was our combined magic,” Leon explained, giving her sensitive clit a lick. “It will make it easier for you to take us.”
“You will take Leon’s cock first. He will stretch your little hole and prepare you for me,” the centaur whispered, his fingers spreading apart her outer labia, offering her fluttering hole to the werewolf.
Melisa glanced between them, then at Leon. He was pumping his wolf shaft, the tip was a slightly pointy, leaking pre-cum. Val kept her legs open from under the knees and watched as Leon rubbed his shaft against her pussy. A soft hitch left her when the cock entered her depths and filled her up, until Leon’s hairy balls pressed against her bum.
All three of them gasped.
Melisa felt full at the invasion, body stretched to its limits but blissfully craved more. Leon gave more to her, his cock plundering her depths as if it was made to dominate her. Meanwhile, Val pinched and teased her bouncing breasts, his eyes glued to the sight of her little slit being forced open by Leon’s cock. She whined, overstimulated and Leon increased his thrusts, his hips snapping repeatedly.
Pussy clenching, Melisa came with a cry, her orgasm tearing through her in an explosion of senses. She thrashed, but Val held her steady while Leon pistoned inside her, his knot swelling and catching at the rim. Then with a roar, the werewolf thrust to the hilt and locked their bodies, spurting rope after rope of cum inside her. Melisa winced at the sensations, his seed was warm and filled her up to the brim, the knot plugging everything up.
Once his knot subsided, Val was next to claim her. The centaur bent down and kissed her and this time, her lips parted eagerly. His tongue tasted her mouth, their tongues brushing together. He pressed her to a makeshift bed of moss and leaves, on her hands and knees. Ass up in the air, Val caressed her asscheeks before his huge horse body covered her.
Something thick and pulsing pressed against her pussy. Leon assisted, spreading her folds so that Val could press the broad head of his cock against her tight heat. Her pussy was drenched and cum-stained so with a nudge, the centaur’s girth popped inside. Melisa whined obscenely, clutching the earth in her fists. Val was thick, impossibly thick, her belly bulging with his size.
Yet he surged inside her and fit perfectly, owning her pussy until he was pulsing so deep, she felt him close to her heart. Hooves digging into the earth, Val claimed her, his cock squelching as it fucked her. Her frame buckled with each slam, rocking against his massive cock. He hit all the right spots, and she couldn’t stop moaning.
“Feels good mate, doesn’t it?” Val growled, his mane tossing wildly with his thrusts.
“Hmm—so good…” Melisa nodded fervently, her walls tightening around him. “More! More!”
“Look at our needy little mate,” Leon rumbled and kissed her moaning lips. “Takes us cocks like a good girl and asks for more. She deserves it all. All our seed, hm?”
“Yes,” she nodded fervently. “Want you. Want your seed.”
“That’s it, take him deep,” Leon urged, watching your soaked cunt swallow Val’s cock. “Take it all.”
“Going to breed our pretty mate,” Val panted, picking up speed. “Fill her with our seed to bursting until she’s carrying our offspring.”
With a final, powerful thrust, Val sent her over the edge and she moaned wildly, her voice echoing through the forest. Pleasure tingled everywhere, her muscles convulsing violently. Triggered by her climax, the centaur shuddered and exploded into her, spilling buckets of cum that filled her to bursting. Her belly bulged, much of it overflowing and dribbling down her pussy lips.
From there on, everything turned into a pleasure haze.
They fucked her, two huge beasts claiming her as their mate, keeping her pussy stretched and filled with their cum. Leon knotted her again and again, and Val filled her up with so much cum, she was bathed in it. It was intense, one orgasm crashing over her after the other. She barely had one cock out before it got replaced. They took care of her mouth too, teaching her how to lick and suck them deep. They alternated so when one fucked her pussy, the other was deep down her throat.
It went on and on through the night— them filling her, stroking her, putting her in all kinds of positions, drawing out her pleasure and building it anew. They whispered lovewords, praised her and swore to protect her, to make her proud to have them as mates. And the more they claimed her, the more she accepted them, yielding to her mates.
Yes, they were hers. Both of them, beastly yet in love with her, strong yet soft with her. And she was theirs, in every way.
By morning, they finally spilled the last of their cum inside her. Exhausted but sated, Melissa lay between them, her womb filled with their hot seed. Val and Leon took her into their cabin, tucked her into their massive bed and held her close. Melissa tried to keep herself from sleeping but she was exhausted, so utterly safe and comfortable between them.
“Sleep, little mate,” Val whispered, kissing her eyelids.
Melisa stifled a yawn. “I’m afraid to wake up and realize that this was all a dream.”
Leon chuckled. “It’s not a dream, sweetheart. We are very real. We are your home now.”
“Are you mine? Forever?” she asked, aching for those magnificent males to be hers and hers alone.
“We belong to you," Val drawled. "And you belong to us now; body and soul...all ours."
Melissa smiled and drifted into a blissful sleep, knowing that her life would never be the same again.
She had found hope and love.
THE END
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velvettte · 5 months ago
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nanami kento never called himself a bored man.
sure, he’d admit, his normal routine had gotten quite monotonous. every morning he’d rise at six a.m and go for a morning jog to collect his thoughts. he’d get back by seven to shower and wear his attire for the day — always some suit that he’d preplanned for the week, matched with his signature tie.
he’d make the commute to the office by eight, where he’s accompanied by his assistants and secretaries all greeting him a good morning and giving him his agenda for the day. he’d get into his private office and seclude himself, working for the entire day before returning home again.
nanami thinks he’s had the most boring day yet so far, that is, until you stumble into his office just as he’s about to leave.
you’re shivering, soaked from the rain, and your clothes stick to your skin. he can see every part of your silhouette in this dim light, and for a moment, he’s speechless.
“hello,” you say almost shyly, looking up at him with innocent eyes. “i’m so sorry for the intrusion but it’s pouring outside. do you know anywhere i could find a ride? or wait this out.”
almost cinematically, a thunderbolt ripples through the air, rain splattering against the glass paned windows.
you shiver a bit, and nanami has a sudden urge to cover you somehow.
you’re the most angelic person he’s ever seen, he decides, when the light hits your face just right. he sees your features, defined and perfect, accompanied with lips so plush, he’s unsure how anyone could ever resist.
“i could offer you one,” he says, taking off his blazer and draping it over your shoulders. “my car is just outside. it would be an honor to accompany you home.”
“thank you,” you beam, and his heart palpitates at how your smile brightens the whole place.
the two of you walk together, with him opening the door of his car to allow you inside.
he takes the turn out of the office building and turns to face you, bathed in city lights and looking ethereal. he feels lucky— his day wasn’t boring anymore.
“just another two rights,” you say, soaking in the warm air from his car. “my apartment should be around here.”
he follows your instructions, only to be led to a luxurious establishment. outside the plants were beautifully manicured, holding up despite the harsh weather.
“eden apartments,” he says, slightly in awe when you grin at him. “isn’t this where atlantis solution’s ceo lives?”
you smile even more, and he catches the slightest flush on your cheeks. “ah…that would be me.”
his heart nearly stops.
“well. thank you for the ride mr. nanami,” you say, and he wonders if this ride was a strategy or genuine interest. “i’m indebted to you. i look forward to seeing you all dry tomorrow.”
with that you wink and grin, walking into your apartments and leaving him there, a surprised man.
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read part two
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emchant3d · 6 months ago
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siren steve and pirate eddie, part 2 pt 1
Steve heals slowly.
He’s irritable and restless, bedridden, and he doesn’t have the strength in his injured tail to support himself if he were to be tossed back into the ocean.
The crew helps him to the deck for a change of scenery and some sunshine - he seems more settled when he can hear the waves and feel the sun on his skin. He’s less snappish, at least, those sharp teeth tucked away behind his pink lips instead of bared in Eddie’s direction.
Eddie had panicked briefly about how much saltwater Steve needs, and he’d rolled his eyes at him. “Keep it near and I’ll be fine,” he tells him. “Half human remember?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, “but the fish part is looking a little dry, sweetheart.” 
Steve slaps him with a tail fin.
He finds himself spending most days with the Mer. Part of it is pure fascination - it’s difficult to not want to spend time around a story come to life. And if he neglects his duties as Captain a little, well - that’s what his crew is for.
Slowly, he pulls more from Steve. He finds out what caused his injuries - “the deep holds a lot of creatures that like the taste of Mer,” he tells him. “I swam right into a nest. By the time I realized, they already had me by the throat and were dragging me to the seabed.”
“Gods,” Eddie murmurs, and Steve hums in agreement. “Evil little things. Razor sharp claws and teeth, and their tails are like whips. They move in schools, so if there’s one, there’s dozens others.”
He speaks of these kinds of creatures so casually, monsters that have worked their way into human lore and others that are unknown to them, but the idea of them still makes Eddie’s skin crawl.
It’s like Steve has a sixth sense for his discomfort. He’s lounging in a long basin Freak and Jeff put together, a shallow amount of salt water in it to keep him comfortable, and he rolls his head to the side, peering up at Eddie.
“They probably wouldn’t turn down a human, either,” he muses, dragging those unnervingly deep eyes up and down him, “but your little lungs wouldn’t survive that deep down, so you’re probably fine.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Eddie snorts, and Steve breaks into a laugh.
As friendly as they’re becoming, Eddie knows Steve still doesn’t fully trust him. He’s excellent at reading people - he knows when someone is keeping secrets, and Steve is locked tight.
He doesn’t blame him. He knows it’s difficult to believe Eddie’s help doesn’t come with strings, and he catches Steve watching him and his crew sometimes, tense and on edge as if he’s waiting for someone to lash out at him.
Eddie hates it. But he doesn’t know how to settle him, not fully, and so maybe the solution is to craft those strings he’s looking so hard to find. Let him find what he’s looking for, but show him that they aren’t as bad as he’s built them up to be in that pretty head of his.
“So what other gifts are you blessed with, Highness?” he asks one cloudy day, the sky gloomy and overcast. A little rain won’t hurt them, but he’s hoping the darker clouds on the horizon will dissipate before they reach them and upend a true storm.
“Divination,” Steve says like he’s bored, and Eddie’s head whips around to stare at him. Steve holds his gaze, his own a little hooded, and he yawns softly.
“What,” Eddie asks flatly. Steve waves a hand dismissively. 
“Just about the ocean,” he says, like that isn’t still one of the most incredible things Eddie’s ever heard. “I can tell when danger’s near. When something isn’t quite right. Whole lot of good it did me,” he snorts, glancing down at his scarred torso.
The bandages have been removed, and pink skin is healing slowly where there used to be gaping wounds. His tail is faring much the same, scales missing from where he’d been bitten and ripped at, but the new flesh is beginning to blend in with the bright shades of his lower half.
“Everything was dangerous down there, I just tried to pick the safest option. I’m still pretty sure I chose right.” Eddie frowns. “You were almost eaten alive,” he says, can’t help it, and Steve cuts him a lazy smile.
“Almost,” he repeats, and Eddie supposes that’s an answer.
He takes a breath, calms his heart, and tries to act like the Captain he is. “So, if you stuck around, you’d be able to tell me what I’m heading towards.” Steve closes his eyes and lets his head hang back, arms resting on the sides of the basin. 
“Yes.” A cloud sweeps over them, blocking the sun from shining on Steve’s face, casting him in shadows. “I could tell you if you were sailing into an ambush, or if the waters were acting up, or any number of other useful little tips that could keep you and your crew alive.”
“You’ve thought about this,” he says, and Steve snorts.
“Of course I have. I have no home. No family. Going alone almost got me killed. I’m pretty but I’m not dumb, Eddie.” He opens his eyes, fixing his gaze onto Eddie’s. “So how about we make a deal?” he offers, and Eddie grins.
It’s an easy negotiation. Steve wants freedom. He wants to see the world. And he wants safety while he does it. Eddie wants an advantage, wants to keep his crew safe, wants them to thrive in this difficult life they’ve chosen.
They shake on it. Steve moves lightning fast as their hands meet, a sharp claw nicking his own palm and then Eddie’s, making him hiss.
“Fuck–” he grunts. A burning sensation shoots through him from hand to chest, fire hot and searing. He gasps, fingers locked around Steve’s, who stares at him impassively. “What…?”
“You’ve made an oath with a Mer,” Steve says simply. “You’ll be held to your word, Captain Munson.”
Eddie pulls his hand away and looks at his palm. 
A black mark surrounds the cut from Steve’s claw, a swirling spiral that snakes from the center of his palm in three little loops. Steve holds his hand out without being asked, showing the matching mark on his own skin.
Eddie’s no stranger to ink and tattoos, but this is decidedly different. It hums with an ancient kind of magic, a connection that he doesn’t - can’t - understand. Something unnameable settles into his bones.
This is a test, he realizes. Or maybe it’s insurance. Either way, it’s something Steve felt necessary to take Eddie at his word, and so he won’t ask questions - not yet, at least.
“Well, I’ve had worse deals, I guess,” he says, and when he meets Steve’s eyes again, some of the caution has seeped out of them. 
Eddie’s sure there’s more to be found out about this creature in front of him, but contrary to popular belief, he can be patient when it counts. 
For now he’ll take what he’s offered - a wary friendship. A slow-growing understanding. And a certain type of care, of gentleness, that curls warm within him and grows with every smile and soft look that Steve throws his way.
part 3 coming soon 💕 no tag lists, sorry!
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tinydefector · 5 months ago
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Rut Cycles- Optimus Prime
Human x gen 1 Optimus
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: smut, size difference, breeding, Alpha/Omega hinted, mating cycles, scent kink.
Masterlist
Rut cycle masterlist
Optimus prime Masterlist
Is it 1am? Yes, did I spend all night editing this yes. I'm posting this rather than heading to bed. The votes for the next character are still up, but the next fic piece is gonna be out of my Request pile.
_______________
"Hey boss Bot, how'd the meeting with the Cons go?" A soft voice breaks Optimus out of his daze of reading over reports and signed documents. He tenses his plating as they make their way up onto the table, the ever present scent that lingers on their skin makes his processor turn and twist in anticipation And want. 
Optimus vented deeply, attempting to cool his systems through will alone, he didn't need this now, everyone from autobot to Decepticon had been hit by the rut cycle and being around humans wasn't helping one bit. The meeting with Megatron had been, taxing, to say the least, as his counterpart struggled through heightened arousal akin to Optimus' own condition. Finding a solution had been their main concern outside of setting out rules of war while in rut. 
"It went as well as could be expected, given the circumstances," he replied wearily to the human who now sits on his desk, they are less worried about being in the room with the large thorny cybertronian that they should have been. Whether it was due to Optimus' unwavering control over himself or them just being oblivious was a different matter altogether. They look up at him for a moment, the sweet energon like scent wafts off their skin. Making Optimus breath hitch, his systems whining, craving desperately to claim what he so desperately wanted" strange seeing Cons in the Ark" they state while looking over their shoulder at the door. 
"Our cycles affect us all strongly, and it results in a domino effect. For your safety, little one, it may be wise to refrain from proximity until it has passed." He tries to explain hoping that he wouldn't have to spend too much more time in the room with them, their sweet electrum like scent would still hang in the room even after they left.       
Optimus vented unsteadily, intake dry, a deep rumble echoes from him as his optics move to where they look. "Their presence here was... unavoidable, it was only a matter of time before this became an issue between our factions" he replied, struggling to focus past rising mating coding demanding he seize this delectable temptation sitting infront of him as if they were a offering from Primus.
"Please, little one," Optimus rasped, field pulled taut as battle-thickened wires. "For both of our sakes, do not test my control overly long, even if I have my limits." He grumbles as he watches the door, finding it was best he not look at them less he be tempted to pin them down to the table and have his way with them. 
"I'd rather take my chances with you OP, I don't really want to deal with the Seekers who have been stalking me around base since your meeting ended" they mumbles, partly under their breath. 
A heavy sigh leaves Optimus as he looks back down at them, part of him now wanted to claim them just to spite the lingering Cons looking for easy pickings, the other part of him shouted that it was wrong. He reaches out a shake servo to grab his cube, Optimus gulps a draught of energon, processors whirling. “You're testing all of our instincts, do you wish for me to escort you out of base?”  he asked which only earns him a head shake of a no from them. 
"Very well," Optimus rumbled gently. They hum softly as Optimus stands there looking down at them, a shutter runs up their back as they look into his optics, biting their lip. " Optimus. Name one reason someone would willingly walk into a room with a large half freal horny cybertronian" they shoot back as their hand presses gently against his frame Optimus shuttered his optics briefly, vents catching at their bold reply. 
“You were planning this?” He grumbles but doesn't pull away, A slight creak of hydraulics announces his closing fist against the table as he struggles to hold back ravaging them.
 They slowly begin undoing their shirt, throwing it across the table as they hook their hand into his plating as if to usher him closer. “Don't ask for this little Light, I can't,  not like this” he clenches his denta as he desperately tries To change their mind. 
“Optimus.  Stop being a Prime for once” they shoot back at him. Optimus' optics darken with a mixture of desire, his servo to trail up their body, his digits tracing over their skin.
they let out a sigh of relief feeling the cool metal trace over their hot skin. Optimus leans in closer, pressing his frame against theirs, his servos continuing their exploration. The contact between their skin ignites a fire within him, and he can't help but let out a low growl. “I warned you little light, reconsider now, less I hurt you because I will not stop once I lose control” he nearly snarls out. 
They cling to him bringing him down into a kiss which makes his engine roar in delight as he presses them down into the table, his servo drifting down between their legs, pressing and rubbing against them. "Optimus please don't make me beg" they whine out while grabbing onto his arm plating. 
A growl rumbles from his vocalizer as he tightens his grip, his servo responding to their urgency. He wants nothing more than to take them as his and he would be damned to the pits if he was letting them go now. 
Optimus's frame trembles with need as he takes charge, his actions becoming more urgent and possessive as his digits tease them not bothering to work them open fully. He lefts out a feral snarl as he brings his digits to his mouth, savouring the sweet taste of their arousal. If his processor wasn't so consumed with the need to claim he would have taken it slow, eaten them out until they had begged, been gentle as he could, the gentleman that he swore he was but his rut had him acting like a beast. 
 His hungry optics focus on their sex enjoying the way the whimper and moan as his dripping spike lays across their stomach as he admires the size difference between them both. A sinful whine escapes their lips, and Optimus's spike throbs in response, aching to be sheathed within them. He positions himself above them, slowly grinding his spike against them as he paints their skin with the bright pink hue of transfluid. 
He watches the way his transfluid runs down their sex, it makes something primal in him snap with the need to have his spike bulging their stomach, filling them and breeding them. "Such an eager little thing," Optimus huskily replies, his voice dripping with desire. 
He positions himself, his spike throbbing with anticipation as he aligns it with their entrance. The hunger in his optics burns through them as he presses forward, slowly but forcefully breaching their tight heat.
"Oh, you feel so good," he groans. "You're mine to breed, to fill with my transfluid.” He states, optics hald hazed over as he grinds into them until his spike settles as far as they can take it. Optimus's thrusts become more powerful and relentless as he hunches over them, gripping their hips and lifting their smaller body to meet each of his thrust that knock the air out of their lungs. 
He relishes in the gasps, cries, and moans that escape their lips, the sounds of their pleasure echoing with the slick slapping noise of their coupling that bounce off the wall of the office. Their scent pushes him further into the depths of his rut and driving him to give them even more. "That's it," Optimus growls, "Take me, Primus so tight. You are mine, my rut mate."
He continues his relentless thrusts, each one driving them both closer to the edge of pleasure. The sight of his spike stretching them, bulging their tummy has his engine purring in delight with the thought of them carrying his sparklings. He knows if the rut is affecting his processor but at that moment nothing else mattered. 
Optimus Prime's vocalizer emits a low, primal growl as he thrusts into them, their desperate moans and arching body driving him further into a state of overwhelming pleasure. He pushes his spike as deep as they can take it, relishing in the way their walls clench around him. "By the Allspark," Optimus gasps, his voice laced with desire and need. "You feel incredible... so tight, so perfect."
His frame shudders with a powerful overload, waves of electricity coursing through his circuits as he releases a floor of transfluid deep inside them. His systems whine out almost in agony from how mind blowing the release is for him as he hunches over their body. Fans blowing heated air against their panting body as Optimus' systems struggle to register the need to stop before he's grinding into them again. 
He lets out a few heavy vents as he presses his face into their shoulder. “I'll Alert Ironhide to let everyone know that we are not to be disturbed” he mumbles against their skin as he pulls away. Optics focusing in on their stretched hole as even more bright pink transfluid gushes from them. They squirm under his gaze as he lets out a rumble of appreciation at the view.
“my berth now” he states, not even giving them a chance to protest before he's walking out of the room towards command deck. 
___________________
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shenanigans-and-imagines · 1 year ago
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I Want It All: Part 1
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Part 2, Part 3; AO3 Link
Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader
Flirting, Light Angst, Longing
Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It's easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can't pretend anymore?
A/N: This turned into a monstrosity. For my own sanity I need to break it up into three parts. I also apologize in advanced, the stuff in the preview won’t pop up until part 2. And please, REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!!!
Word Count: 4.8K
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The day really couldn’t decide whether it was going to be terrible or tolerable. 
On the one hand, it had been pouring rain for hours, leaving you and your party drenched as you searched for some place dry to sleep. On the other hand, you were able to find an inn with more than enough rooms to accommodate all of you. On the other, other hand, rooms cost money, something that was in short supply. 
“How much does that make?” Karlach asked, placing her share into the pile. 
Gale counted out the coins. “Enough for our own rooms, but not much in the way of food.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Hold on, this can’t be right. Who forgot to pitch in?”
All eyes turned suspiciously to Astarion. 
He raised his hands in surrender. “I put down enough for the room. Food is something…you all have to deal with.”
Lae’zel gave him a hard look, the threat obvious on her features. 
“We could always share a room or two,” Shadowheart cut in. “That will at least hold us over until we can find a way to make more coin.”
A devilish smirk formed on the vampire’s lips as his eyes turned to you. “I’m not opposed to the idea. Certainly would make it easier for me to get a little midnight snack.” 
You gave a theatrical sigh. “Not tonight dear. I have a headache.” 
“Teasing minx.” 
“Can the pair of you not for ten seconds?” Wyll complained. 
You bit back a laugh, turning your gaze to the dining area of the tavern. Gods you could smell something delicious cooking over the fireplace. When was the last time you had a proper hot meal? 
It was then you turned your eyes to one of the empty corners. The solution to the issue of food suddenly became obvious. 
“Not to worry everyone,” you announced, swiping the coins from Gale’s hand. “Dinner is on me.” 
Before anyone could speak, you stepped towards the bar, making a point to put on your best smile. 
A elderly halfling woman regarded you as you approached. “What can I get you deary?”
“Actually it’s a matter of what I can do for you,” you said. “I see you have some instruments sitting much too idly.”
The old lady shrugged. “Not really. Night like this you don’t need music to bring people in.”
Your smile faltered a moment, but you pushed on. “That may be, but nothing keeps people drinking longer and deeper than a good song.”
She gave you a disparaging look. “Don’t tell me, bard right?”
“Guilty.”
“If you don’t have money for the rooms, we don’t comp that.”
You waved the comment away. “The rooms aren’t the issue. However, if you’re willing to part with a cauldron of stew, I’ll consider it payment enough.” 
Her eyes remained wary, but you knew you had her as a twitch came to her lips. “That’ll do.  Thirty minute set. You eat after.” 
She held out a hand which you took, striking the bargain. 
It didn’t take long after to secure the rooms. They were nothing fancy, but a mattress was a mattress and with the guarantee of true privacy for the first time in weeks, none of you were complaining. 
“How’s this about food then?” Karlach asked, taking a seat at one of the few tables large enough to accommodate all seven of you. 
“All taken care of,” you assured. “Just need to pluck out a quick set and we can eat.” 
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Astarion said. “I don’t mind it myself, but your songs have a tendency to be a bit, well…destructive. Frankly I’m surprised you didn’t use that cutting mouth of yours to simply insult the woman into feeding you.” 
“As it turns out, I have a little thing called restraint. Unlike some people,” you countered. 
“Oh trust me my dear, I’m well aware of that.” 
You rolled your eyes, deciding to ignore the slight twist of guilt in your stomach. 
He couldn’t seem to help making those kinds of jabs ever since you had declined his offer for a midnight tryst; always alluding to the theme of “untapped passions” or “delayed gratification”. It was starting to wear on you. 
Gods knew you liked him. He had so many qualities you admired; insight, intelligence, charm, the way he could make you laugh. The more you learned, the more you wanted to know and the more you were willing to give for answers. The trouble was his idea of a night of passion and yours were so very, very different.
A part of you knew the honest thing to do would be to spell it out for him.  You understood him well enough to know he’d respect those boundaries. At the same time, you didn’t want to lose this, whatever this was, between you. If suddenly that night of passion was off the table, all those moments, all his attentions would be lost. He’d be a friend, certainly, but nothing more. 
It was selfish. You knew it was. You couldn’t imagine finding the words to explain it to him. It would leave you too exposed, too vulnerable to that insistent burning want that had a way of tearing you apart from the inside out. It was better to leave him to his assumptions of suppression and prudishness. You’d keep your dignity at least. 
Pushing those thoughts away, you took your place in the unobtrusive corner and the spare violin waiting for you. 
A smile spread across your face as you tucked the familiar instrument under your chin. Since this whole adventure of yours began, you had little opportunity to apply your skills. Music had always been a source of comfort to you. It felt right to indulge in it now, some place safe and filled with warm firelight. 
With a flick of your wrist you began, the resonating tone of the strings filling the room. 
You allowed your eyes to close as you slipped into the melody. The sounds of conversation and laughter fell to an idle murmur. It was a simple tune, something easy to match the atmosphere, but one you loved all the same. You always found it best to start with something familiar. If the patrons could see you get lost in the music, they inevitably followed. 
As the first song came to an end, you chanced a quick glance at your audience. 
Most of the patrons still prattled on, but enough turned your direction to encourage you to try something a little more daring. 
Your fingers flew, igniting a livelier rhythm. More eyes found their way to you. A pleasant bubbling sensation filled you. They were falling right into your hands.  
Rising to your feet, you glided across the floor, moving with the music towards the center of the room. 
Patrons shuffled out of the way, transfixed by your performance. Even your companions had stopped their chatter. 
Karlach and Shadowheart’s faces lit up in delight. A smile touched the corner of Gale’s mouth. Even Lae’zel and Wyll looked on with admiration at your skills. As for Astarion…Astarion just stared. 
You couldn’t quite read what was going on behind those scarlet eyes. It was a look you had caught him wearing more than once, always blinked away before you could fully comprehend its meaning. All you knew was how it made that dangerous hope spark in your chest. 
He caught you looking and quickly morphed his expression to its familiar smirk. The bastard even had the audacity to wink. 
You rolled your eyes pretending not to have seen. It was all part of the game after all. He pretended to care, you pretended not to fall for it. 
A lute suddenly joined you from one of the corners, strumming its way into a new song. 
You turned as a cheer rose, encouraging the intrusive lutist forward. He was human by the look of him and certainly skilled in his own right. He took a moment to embellish your solo before taking over with one of his own. Soon enough you joined the conversation again with a counter melody. It wasn’t as clean as you would have liked it. The lad clearly had meant to upstage you, but you made sure to put him in line, allowing the impromptu duet to end in some kind of harmony. 
You transitioned easily to a new song as he took a seat, bowing to you as he did.
Remembering your showmanship, you made a point to bow in return, schooling your expression into a flirtatious grin before pulling away. That earned the man a round of cheers from his friends and a few obvious oohs from the crowd; exactly as you intended. 
You continued on with the remainder of your set. Requests were shouted from the audience, all the pieces of music moving to and from your fingers with practiced grace.  By the end of it, your arms were exhausted, but your face hurt from smiling. Gods you had missed this. 
As you took your bow, applause followed you back to your table as well as a handful of extra coin. 
“That was amazing!” Karlach said, beaming at you. “How’d you learn to play like that?”
“Years of practice,” you said, with pride. “Had to find an honest living somehow.”
“Well, it was beautifully done,” Gale added. “Maybe next time we make camp you could grace us with another performance. Provided we’re not all about to die of course.”
You shot him a grin. “I could be persuaded.” 
The wizard turned his gaze away, his lips turning into a knowing smirk. “You’ve been unnaturally quiet Astarion. Been bewitched have you?”
The vampire blinked as if coming out of deep thought. It was only in those last moments did you realize just how intently he had been looking in your direction.
“Yes,” he said, a little stiffly, “you were quite…good.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Be careful there. You wouldn’t want to overwhelm me with praise.”
He regarded you a moment before a sly smile turned at his lips. 
You were almost relieved. That look you understood at least. 
“If it’s praise you crave, you need only ask,” he purred. “You, my dear, are an unparalleled talent. Your beauty and grace alone should have brought you into the presence of kings. A true diamond in the rough.”
You snorted out a laugh.
“No good?” he continued. “How about this one; if I die tomorrow and the gods grant me mercy it will be your song that brings me into the beyond.”
You gave him a slow clap. “Brava.” 
He inclined his head in a little bow. “But seriously, you were good and you didn’t even destroy the furniture. Admittedly though, I wouldn’t have minded if he had met with a little accident.” 
You followed Astarion’s eye line to the lute player chatting with his friends. He perked up as he felt eyes on him. Without the distraction of playing, you could easily tell he was handsome in that sun kissed farmer’s son kind of way. Probably had most of the girls in the village swooning. 
He raised a tankard to you in toast.
You met the gesture in acknowledgment. 
“He wasn’t that bad,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.
“He was the worst part of your performance,” Astarion insisted. 
You knew he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t help but have your fun. 
“Oh my darling, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, placing a hand over your heart.
“Certainly I am,” he said, clutching his own chest in turn. “He’s the only person I’ve seen you willing to make sweet music with. And judging from his looks, he would have much preferred it to be a private performance.” 
You didn’t bother looking over to the other table to see if he was telling the truth. It didn’t matter either way. It never did. Your answer was always the same. 
“He’ll have to keep waiting.” You shrugged. “Not my type.”
Astarion’s eyes narrowed slightly, leaning in closer. “And what exactly is?”
You didn’t answer, deciding instead to take a long sip of your ale.
He continued to eye you, his lips pursed as if trying to solve a puzzle. After a few moments he let out an exasperated sigh. 
“Fine, keep your secrets, but I will figure it out eventually.”
Your lip twitched up into a half smile. “You may certainly try.” 
It was then one of the staff brought out a truly enormous cauldron of the most delicious smelling stew you had smelled in your life. 
You didn’t think to wait as you greedily poured a ladle full into your empty bowl. Two full days on the road with nothing but a handful of nuts and berries to sustain you had taken its toll. The rest of the group soon followed, each taking their share. You ate yours so quickly that by the time the ladle had made the circle, you were grabbing for seconds.  
“Hungry are we?” Astarion observed. 
You paused mid bite, heat rising in your cheeks. You took a quick look at everyone else. Nobody seemed to have noticed how you inhaled your food. They were content enough in their own bowls and conversation. Carefully you swallowed before self consciously setting down the spoon in your hand.  
           “I am the one who worked for this,” you said, more defensively than you intended. 
Astarion regarded you with a raised eyebrow. “Even so, it’s not going to disappear the second you look away.” 
“Says you.” 
“Clever,” he said, dryly. “Devastating really. What’s next? Are you going to hit me with an “oh yeah” or Gods forbid a “your mother”?”
“I was actually leaning towards, “leave me to eat in peace you pompous jackass”.”
“Oh yes, that’s much better.”
You breathed out a frustrated sigh. Hopefully it would distract from your obvious embarrassment. You had thought you’d tucked those bad habits away. 
Years of living on your own had left you going to bed hungry more times than you cared to remember. There was a time food had disappeared from your plate if you didn’t eat it fast enough. Of course, things got better. You found music and people willing to listen. It gave you fire and shelter and a contented stomach on good nights. Still, there were the bad ones and old instincts took over. It took practice not to be as ravenous as you knew your nature to be. 
“Do I need to worry about your hunger?” you asked, deciding to change the subject. 
“Oh you of all people should know by now. I’m insatiable,” he crooned. 
Your eyes narrowed, unamused. “I’m being serious, when’s the last time you ate?”
He shrugged. “Few days. Last time I fed on you I imagine.” 
Your stomach gave a sudden guilt ridden twist. If that were the case, it had to have been at least three days ago. 
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because as much as the image of you swooning in my arms is appealing, I’d rather it be over my charms rather than blood loss.” He nodded his head towards the bowl. “From my own experience hunger and restraint don’t mix.” 
You tried to fight it. You really did. Years of instinct and reason told you not to fall for the softness in his eyes and voice. He simply didn’t want to explain a dead body to the rest of the party. It wasn’t out of some concern for your well being. And you absolutely could not allow yourself to believe he recognized the desperation in your actions and not pass judgment. If you believed that, you’d be in much more danger than you already were. 
“Excuse me deary,” an elderly voice asked. “I was wondering if I could have another moment of your time.”
You turned to see the barkeeper at your shoulder. 
“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Of course.” 
You moved to stand, but she gestured you down. It was then you noticed she was carrying a case. It was worn with age, but clearly lovingly maintained as the edges shone with intricate gold inlay. 
“I know you already paid for your meal,” she said. “But I was hoping I could ask for one more performance tonight.”
She opened the case to reveal the most beautiful violin you’d ever laid eyes on. The wood was a carefully polished chestnut interrupted with carvings which matched those on the case. The strings shone like gold and the pegs carved marble. You may not be a trained wizard, but could feel the magic pulsing from every square inch of it. 
“What is this?”
“It was my father’s,” the woman explained. “He was a bard you see, best in these parts from what people told. He had so many stories and songs. Built it himself to help tell them. Try as I might though, I could never get it to play as sweetly. I was hoping you might.”
You looked to your companions. The obvious curiosity played on all their faces. 
With a cautious hand, you plucked one of the strings. 
It was perfectly in tune. The sound echoed, rich and vibrant even with so light a touch. The instrument itself seemed to glow as if happy to be played once again.
Slowly, you lifted it from the case, taking the bow in hand. You placed it on the strings and with an exhale drew the first notes. 
It was the loveliest sound you’d ever heard.  
The vibrations resinated in your fingers, moving through your arm and into your chest. 
You decided to start simple, a handful of scales to get the intonations just right. 
Color danced across the strings, rippling from your fingers like raindrops in a pond. 
“Woah,” Karlach said, her eyes widening in awe. “Are you doing that?”
“No,” you said, pausing your motions, as you let it fall slack in your hands. 
The elderly halfing smiled. “My father always said an artist puts their truth into every stroke of the bow. This here helps one’s heart shine. I saw the way you performed earlier, you’re not afraid to play what’s true.”
Color rose in your cheeks, unsure how to take such praise. “Thank you.”
She just smiled, nodding towards the instrument. “Keep playing. See what happens.”
You were suddenly aware of the rest of the party’s eyes turning expectantly towards you. Some with caution, some with anticipation, and one pair of red eyes with unreadable intentions. 
Knowing there was no way you were getting out of this now, you rose from your seat, placing the violin securely beneath your chin. 
You started slow, picking a tune every beginner memorized in their first lessons. 
The music sparkled in front of your eyes, twirling outward in melodic waves.
The hum of conversation began to die down as you spotted the barkeeper beckon for silence. 
You continued on, moving to something a little more complex, allowing yourself to let the rest of the room blur in the peripheries. 
The sound of boots on cobblestones met your ears. Glancing down you saw stone where hardwood floors had been. 
You took another step. 
The stones followed. 
Around you the room fluctuated between firelight and the brightness of morning. Looking up you could see a clear sky had replaced the hatched ceiling. 
A smile spread across your face as you stepped away from your bench. 
As if waiting for your queue the rest of the bar quickly moved tables and chairs out of the way, clearing the center floor. 
The sun followed as the cobblestones spread out in front of you like a stream. With every flourish, finer details were added. You changed the direction allowing a building to form beside you, then another and another. Images of people faded in and out like memories, coming and going with the flow of the music. 
You never felt anything like this before. The strings sang inside you, drawing out a melody you knew was there, but had always managed to slip from your grasp. 
You surrendered to its current, following it deeper and deeper until all you could see, all you could touch was the music. 
Behind your eyes the streets began to turn and change. Buildings loomed large overhead. You could hardly see the stars. A cold swept through your clothes, the chords of the melody vibrating with the shivers in your hands. The world was so much bigger and you were so much smaller. 
No instrument laid in your hands, but still the music played on as if you had slipped into a dream. 
You continued to walk unsure of where your feet were carrying you until something warm pressed against your back. Light reflected behind you, casting long shadows on the ground. A melody played, soft and soothing against your own. You turned towards it as the voices of long forgotten conversation and laughter accompanied the strings of a quartet.
Your chords and theirs brushed up against each other, a new light shining in the darkness, but just as soon as it began, it moved away, leaving you on your own once again. 
You continued on, brushing against others. Sparks would fly, fire would ignite only for them it fade in front of your eyes. 
Your own melody grew more desperate, moving and shaping itself to match whoever you found next only just able to cling onto the barest sense of itself. 
An ache grew in your chest as you wandered, always searching, never finding. Something warm trailed down your cheeks. You let it flow, unable to stop. You wouldn’t end the story here, even as swirls of blues and blacks surrounded you. They wrapped around your body, filling your vision and squeezing tight around you until you felt the air being pushed out of your lungs. There was nothing else.  Even the music had gone dead. 
For what felt like a moment and eternity you sat there, alone in the dark. 
A voice came to you then, but it didn’t come from the instrument tucked somewhere under your chin.  No melody accompanied it. It was so far away. Something about it was so familiar. It spoke your name like a desperate prayer. You reached out for it.
The air itself moved around you as if you had plucked the very strings of the universe. 
A low hum came next bringing with it two pin pricks of light. A red fire glowed in the darkened space, growing until they sat as two eyes burning in the air. 
You cocked your head to the side. Your own song started again, cautious as it curled around the eyes, examining them from different angles. 
The eyes crinkled at the edges, amused by your persistence. 
With a blur of motion, it turned to the side allowing a profile to form and beginning an enticing melody of its own. 
You and the face took turns, calling and answering in playful antagonism. 
The lines of light continued downward as its counter melody grew in strength against your own, forming the outline of a man.
He stepped towards you, his own head turning to the side as yours had done before, examining you from every angle. 
After a moment, he bowed. You curtseyed. And then you did what only felt natural. You danced.
The heat of his touch burned your skin, but you didn’t dare pull away. You had been cold for so long you hadn’t even known you were cold. Even when it became too much, the fear of the darkness kept you in his light. 
The man in turn held you close, his song teasing against your own. So unlike the duet from before, this was a true conversation, the pair of you giving and taking in equal measure. You didn’t want it to stop, holding the feeling tighter and tighter until you felt the pulse of his fire inside you. 
You looked up to find the embers of his eyes pouring into you.  He moved your hand to his chest. A heart pumped beneath and you knew then it wasn’t his own. Just as you had taken from him, he had taken from you in equal measure. 
His face came into focus, forming a familiar knowing smirk and playful scarlet eyes.
He stepped back from you, his hand holding yours as he bowed, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. 
The song faded away and you were once again in your own body, a violin tucked carefully beneath your chin. 
You blinked your eyes open to find the tavern standing as it had been moments ago.  Patrons surrounded you, their eyes wide and mouths open. You glanced around the room, quickly finding your companions. Horror struck you as you read their expression. 
They’d seen it. All of it. 
Before you could register what was happening a wave of applause erupted from the crowd. People began to cheer. You heard awed whoops and hollers. The adoration was overwhelming and completely miss timed. You needed to lie down. You needed to think. 
Numbly you bowed before making your way to the side of the room where the barkeeper stood. 
You held the instrument out to her, unable to look her directly in the eye. 
“Thank you for letting me play this,” you said. 
To your surprise she didn’t take it, instead pushing your hands away with a shake of her head. 
“Keep it love,” she said. “After seeing all that, feels wrong to take it away from you. You’ve more than earned the right to it.”
You wanted to argue. You wanted to scream. You wanted to curse her for ever asking you to touch the damned thing. Somehow you managed to swallow all of that down, mumbling another thank you before slowly turning towards your party. 
There was still a chance to salvage this. Astarion hadn’t seen his own reflection in centuries. He didn’t know what he looked like. You could play this whole thing up to artistic license. You just carried a general feeling of desperate longing. No need for you to clarify its direction. 
Making a point to keep your head down, you put the violin away and slid it over to Gale. 
“Feel free to eat this one if you want,” you said. It was meant to be a joke, but even you could feel it fall flat. 
“I don’t think I can do that,” Gale said, his tone holding nothing but sympathy. 
“It really was lovely,” Wyll said, gently. 
“Beautiful really,” Shadowheart added. 
Your jaw tightened, caught between the urge to scream or weep. Why couldn’t everybody do you the favor of the lifetime and forget they saw anything. 
“Personally I don’t understand your choice in the spawn, but–” Lae’zel started only to be hit hard in the arm by Karlach.
“What?” she snapped. 
Your whole body cringed, knowing exactly what was coming next. 
“That was…me?” 
You were in hell. This was hell. You didn’t have to look up to see Astarion’s self satisfied expression. His tone made it clear enough.
In a flash you stepped back from the table, putting as much distance between you and the party as possible. 
“I need to go,” you managed. “Goodnight.” 
You sprinted out of the tavern, taking two steps of the time to the upper rooms. You didn’t stop until your door was firmly slapped behind you. 
Your breaths came hard as your heart pounded in your chest. Honestly you didn’t know how you locked the door. Your hands were shaking so badly as tears blurred your vision. All the emotions the violin had pulled from you returned, overwhelming you in their intensity. 
The instrument had done as advertised. It had shown the truth of your heart, putting it on display for the whole world to see. Gods you were an idiot. Why did you even pick up that damned thing? 
You kept your ears open, listening as everyone made their way to their rooms. Their murmurs never made it past the walls, but the way they paused as they passed your door made it clear enough they were discussing you. Thankfully they were kind enough to leave you be. 
Counting, you waited until all six doors shut before rising to your feet. 
As you did, you felt a small pull at the back of your mind. A vision of a door number and the feeling of anticipation sat on your tongue. The invitation was clear enough; Astarion was waiting for you. 
You wanted to ignore it, but you knew you couldn’t. There was no use in pretending any longer. The game was over and you would have to face the consequences.
With a steeling breath, you walked out the door. You could only hope Astarion wouldn’t hate you when it was all over.
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rubycruzin4abruzin · 7 months ago
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we can’t be friends
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Summary: Hazel, who has a giant crush on you, gets paired with you for a class project. She’s convinced you could never like her back because she thinks you’re straight, what happens when she’s proven wrong?
Pairing: Hazel Callahan x Fem!reader
Contains: mature language and content, hurt/comfort, smut, fingering (both receiving), oral, scissoring kinda, floor sex, loser!hazel, dom!hazel, fem!reader, sub!reader, 18+, MDNI
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: (loosely) based off the song We Can’t Be Friends by Ariana Grande, and requested by anonymous. Requests are still open for Hazel Callahan and Kit Tanthalos! Enjoy!
———
Hazel stared at you from across the classroom, a deep longing in her eyes. Mr. G was rambling something about 9/11 and how it somehow pertained to his divorce but she wasn’t absorbing a word of his lecture. All her attention was focused on you.
PJ noticed Hazel’s obvious sense of distraction and rolled her eyes. “It’s never gonna happen, Hazel.”
Hazel’s face fell slightly as she looked down at her lap. “You don’t know that…” she mumbled.
“I do, actually. My gaydar is perfect, and she…” PJ motioned her head towards you. “…is not.”
Hazel's head shot straight up to look at PJ. “Weren’t you the one who thought Brittany was gay?”
PJ scoffed. “Ok? So my gaydar had a malfunction. It’s fine now, and trust me. You do not occupy that pretty little head of hers.” She shot a pointed look at Hazel. “She doesn’t want you. She wants a boyfriend. With a penis.”
A sad puppy dog look covered Hazel’s face as she turned back to look at you. You certainly did have a pretty little head, with long silky hair falling over your shoulders, perfectly framing your face. Maybe it was because Hazel had little to no experience with makeup, but she always thought yours was flawless, with your eyeshadow consistently color coordinated with your outfits. Today it was hot pink to match your miniskirt and pink pumps, paired with fishnets and a black tank top with writing on it that Hazel couldn’t quite make out.
You took a break from taking notes to reach into your backpack and find your lipgloss, carefully reapplying a layer. A dopey smile formed on Hazel’s face as she watched the sparkly pink solution trace your lips, wondering how it would taste against her own. PJ rolled her eyes once again. “Get over it, Hazel.”
Before Hazel could even open her mouth to respond, the sound of Mr. G’s voice echoed across the room, turning everyone’s attention to the front. He was going on about some new partner project, Hazel could barely focus. She soon, however, perked up when he mentioned your name.
“You’re partnered with Hazel.” He finished.
Hazel’s heart leapt into her throat. She turned to look at you, and you met her gaze with a bright smile. She offered an awkward nod back, and quickly looked away.
Mr. G soon finished with the list of partners and the bell rang to signify the end of class. PJ walked out with Josie, who could be heard panicking over being partnered with Isabel. Hazel was packing up her stuff for her next class when she saw a figure out of the corner of her eye. She looked up to see you standing over her desk, a glossy grin spread across your face. “Hey Hazel.”
Hazel tried to swallow, but found her mouth was completely dry. She managed to squeak out a low “…hey.”
“Looks like we’re partners for this assignment. I wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to work on it after school? Today?” You brushed a lock of hair out of your face, making Hazel wish she could do it for you.
She licked her dry lips and nodded enthusiastically. “Sure.”
You pressed your phone into Hazel’s shaking hands and you both exchanged numbers before “bye’s” and “see you later’s.” Throughout the rest of the day, it was agreed over text that you would meet at your locker after school before heading to Hazel’s house to work on the project. You had originally suggested your place, but after Hazel mentioned her mom being out of town on business, you were all for meeting at her’s instead.
When the last bell rang, Hazel ran to the bathroom and spent fifteen minutes fussing over her hair, trying to get it to swoop just the right way. Unfortunately, PJ’s voice saying “she’s not gay, it’s never gonna happen” rang through her head. After deciding it just wasn’t worth it then, she gave up and dejectedly made her way over to your locker.
You were already there waiting for her, and seeing you lean against your locker in the empty hallway made Hazel’s heart flutter. You looked just as perfect as you had earlier today (except Hazel could’ve sworn you had pulled your black tank top just a little farther down). You noticed her approaching you, and flashed her a bright smile.
“Hey Hazel, ready to go?” You asked. Hazel nodded. “Sure.”
“Great! I’m excited to be paired with you. I’m sure after this project we’ll become great friends.” You lifted your hand to squeeze Hazel’s upper arm, but she couldn’t feel it over the pang in her chest. Your words swam around in her mind.
“Great friends…” she didn’t want to be your friend. She wanted to be more. She wanted to be the one to laugh with you, and hold you when you cried. She wanted to take you out on dates, and slow dance with you at prom. She wanted you to look up at her with your big doe eyes right before you kiss her, and wrap your arms around her shoulders to pull her closer while she savored the taste of your signature lip gloss. She wanted to touch you. God how she wanted to touch you…
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t do any of that. Not if you were too busy making goo-goo eyes at some football player.
You wanted to be friends. Hazel wanted you… but more than anything she wanted you in her life. If being friends was the only way to do that, then so be it.
—————
The drive to Hazel’s house was pretty much silent, minus a few attempts at small talk from you. Hazel made a few attempts to respond, but mainly kept her focus on the grip of her steering wheel and the road ahead.
Hazel turned into her driveway, and walked you through her front door, up the stairs, and into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She motioned for you to sit next to her on the floor, and got out her pencils and the project rubric. After about five minutes of complete silence, Hazel’s head shot up. “Snacks!”
You looked up from the rubric in confusion. “What?”
“Snacks! I forgot to offer you snacks when we came in. Shit, I’m sorry! I’m a terrible host.” Hazel panicked. You had to stifle a giggle under your hand. Somehow, Hazel was being so adorable right now.
“It’s ok, Hazel. I’m not hungry. I promise.” Hazel rubbed the back of her neck as a faint shade of red crept up on her cheeks.
“Sorry. You just…” Hazel trailed off. You cocked your head in question. “I… what?”
“You just… sometimes you make me nervous…” Hazel mumbled, staring down at her lap.
Your lips parted slightly in shock at her confession. “I make you nervous?”
“Look… just forget I said anything.” Hazel picked the project rubric back up. “So, do you have any idea what this project is supposed to be on? I wasn’t really paying attention…”
You pulled the rubric out of Hazel’s hands and tossed it to the side, forcing her to look at you. “I’m not gonna forget what you said. Hazel, how do I make you nervous?”
A defeated sigh left Hazel’s lips as she realized you weren’t going to give this up. She squeezed her eyes shut, choking out your name before her next words. “I’m sorry but… we can’t be friends.”
It took a moment for you to process Hazel’s words, but as soon as you did, your face crumpled out of hurt. You were trying not to cry, but you couldn’t decide if it was from hurt or confusion. “What do you mean?”
“We can’t be friends.” Hazel repeated, refusing to make eye contact with you. “Whenever I’m around you, my hands get all sweaty and my mouth gets dry, and I can barely get any words out because… I don’t know. You do this thing to me. I can’t focus in class because all I can think about is how pretty you are and what flavor your lip gloss is and…”
Hazel’s incessant rambling was interrupted by the feeling of something wet and sticky against her cheek. She blinked, trying to process what just happened.
You kissed her. On the cheek.
A faint blush crept onto her face as she lifted her hand to feel where your kiss still lingered. She finally met your gaze to see you staring back at her, a giddy smile covering your face.
“You kissed me.”
You brushed another lock out of your face and smiled down at your lap. “Yeah. I did.”
“But I’m not a boy.”
You shot your head up and gaped at her, bewildered. Did you hear her correctly?
“Huh? I know…” you trailed off as realization set into you. “You think I’m straight?”
“Well, yeah. You’re all like… feminine and stuff…” Hazel mumbled, clearly embarrassed.
A thick silence filled the room as you stared at her, wide eyed. Hazel held her breath and refused to look at you. She thought for sure she fucked up before she heard… laughter?
Hazel looked up to see you in absolute stitches from laughing so hard. On one hand, she was glad you didn’t seem mad at her, but on the other… she really had no idea what you were laughing at.
After a moment, you calmed down, and stuck out one of your wrists to show Hazel a pink, white, and orange threaded bracelet. “Trust me, I’m not straight. And this…” you gestured to your outfit. “…is called hyperfem, and it’s actually meant to deter the male population.”
Several thoughts swirled around Hazel’s mind. Some “fuck PJ” or “how did I not notice the bracelet?” But mostly, all she could think about was how you were sitting in front of her, out and proud, in an empty house, and beaming from ear to ear.
You giggled at Hazel’s astonished expression and looked down at your lap. “I was kind of wondering why you had never talked to me before. Guess I know now.”
Hazel gulped. “I’m sorry, I…”
Suddenly, you decided to cut her off by tossing all the papers between you to the side, and crawling over to her lap. You put one hand on her knee and brought your face as close to hers as you could without touching. Hazel’s breath hitched at this new position, and you hummed as your eyes dropped to her lips. “Now that you know I’m gay… what do you plan to do about it?”
It took a moment for your words to settle into Hazel’s mind, but as soon as they did, she brought her face forward and kissed you, melting instantly at your touch. Her stomach filled with butterflies as she shivered from the pure adrenaline. She couldn’t believe how soft your lips were, and the taste of your lipgloss felt absolutely intoxicating.
You pulled away suddenly, smirking as Hazel whined at the loss of your touch. “So… what flavor is my lip gloss?”
Hazel hummed in thought, running the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip. “Watermelon?”
“Bingo.”
A devilish grin spread across Hazel’s face before she grabbed your jaw and pulled you back in, forcing you to tuck your knee into her lap to keep balance. Her tongue danced against your bottom lip, begging for entrance. A small giggle escaped from the back of your throat as you parted your lips and let her deepen the kiss.
Hazel’s hand left your jaw and slowly made its way down to gently caress the thigh you still had perched in her lap. You felt your body shiver at this new sensation, causing Hazel to pull away and survey your reaction.
“Is this ok?” She asked in a low voice. You nodded, your half-lidded eyes clouded with lust. “Please.”
Hazel caught your lips in hers again, and gripped at your fishnet-clad thigh. You moaned at the feeling of her fingertips caressing your nearly-bare skin. You had no idea your thighs could be so sensitive, but here you were, falling apart at her literal fingertips.
By now you were mentally begging Hazel to push her hand up just a little higher, so you grabbed the chain around her neck and pulled her close until you were on your back and she was hovering over you. Her big blue eyes looked like pools you were dying to swim in as she peered down at you with a look of nothing but content.
You dragged your top teeth against your bottom lip and giggled. “Tell me again how pretty I am?”
Hazel smirked as she continued to rub her thumb along the inside of your thigh. “So pretty. Like a princess.”
Your body involuntarily shivered at this new nickname, and Hazel found it impossible not to notice. “Oh, you like that? Princess?”
A muffled moan vibrated against your puffy pink lips in response. Fuck, when did Hazel get so… dominant?
She ran her hand just under the edge of your tank top, looking up at you for approval. You nodded, and she got to work pulling it up and over your head, leaving your stomach exposed and your chest covered with nothing but a black lace bralette. Hazel gulped at the sight of you, her spontaneous dominance momentarily leaving her. She swore she had never seen anything this beautiful. She leaned down again to kiss you once, softly and sweetly, before slowly leaving a trail of kisses to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and down to the top of your breasts.
Hazel’s big blue eyes stared up at you as she ran her tongue across the top of one of your tits, gently testing the waters. You let out a gentle moan, purely from the eroticism of it all. You swore you could cum just from looking into Hazel’s fuck me eyes.
“Hazel,” you breathed out, sitting up slightly to lean on your elbows. “You can take it off.”
A nervous look clouded Hazel’s features for a brief moment before being replaced by one dark with desire. “Whatever you want, Princess.”
God, you could feel yourself get wetter every time she used that stupid nickname.
Getting your bra off wasn’t necessarily a fast and flawless task for Hazel, as she was used to the simplicity of sports bras rather than the confusing clasps of a bralette. Luckily, you both had a good sense of humor about it, which made the situation far less awkward. Eventually, Hazel opted to just pull it over your head like a t-shirt, tossing it over her shoulder immediately after.
Hazel never thought she’d see the day where she’d have the Popular Princess of Rockbridge High’s tits practically served to her on a silver platter, but here they were, exposed in all their glory, and hers for the taking. She took one of your nipples in her mouth, running her tongue along the erect bud as she used her hand to gently massage the other. It felt incredible, but as much as you loved watching Hazel Callahan play with your tits, there was another part of you that was much more desperate to be played with.
Your hips involuntarily bucked against Hazel’s stomach, forcing her to pull away and click her tongue disapprovingly. “So impatient. Never took you for a sub.”
“Never took you for a dom.” You fired back, surprisingly quickly considering how mushy your brain felt.
Hazel simply shrugged and flashed a wicked grin. “Guess you do something to me.”
She slipped one hand down to the waistband of your skirt and started to undo your belt buckle until it was loose enough for her to slide it down your legs. Her fingers danced along your now completely exposed fishnets while she plucked at the delicate little strings.
“Funny,” she started, gently pulling at the thin threads. “If you weren’t wearing anything under these, I would totally keep them on while I fucked you.”
Her blunt choice of words sent palpitations straight to your clit, forcing a shiver down the length of your entire body. She either didn’t notice or pretended not to because she just shrugged. “Too bad you are. Gotta take them off.”
In a way, you were grateful for the black panties you had worn under your fishnets. Watching Hazel undress you to any capacity was a bigger turn on than anything any porn site had to offer. You made a mental note to wear more clothes next time.
By now you were down to nothing but the aforementioned silky black panties. Hazel moved her hand back to your thigh, rubbing her thumb along the inside teasingly. She reached up and allowed her finger to gently brush over the tiny crease where your leg ended and your panties began, looking up at you for affirmation before continuing.
You sighed, rolling your bottom lip between your front teeth. “Please Hazel. Please touch me.”
Hazel’s stomach couldn’t help but flutter every time one of your desperate pleas hit her ears, but she tried not to let it show. Still, it was difficult to ignore the dampness in her boxers, thankfully still hidden by her shorts. On the other hand, your panties were on full display, the black color managing to hide your wet spot from Hazel’s vision, but failing to keep your secret when she dragged her finger up your clothed cunt.
“Holy shit.” Hazel muttered under her breath. “So fucking wet already?”
You were far too turned on to even begin to respond to her taunts, opting instead to raise your hips and signify Hazel to take off your panties. Hazel, however, had other plans. She continued to stroke the length of your covered cunt, enjoying watching your hips stutter every time she so much as grazed your clit.
As much as you loved the cloth friction rubbing against your slit, the growing pool of wetness that resulted was beginning to make you feel suffocated. You lifted your hips to chase her touch, moaning with desperation. Hazel smirked, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“Patience, pretty girl. I can’t do anything until you tell me what you want.”
Hazel’s finger picked at the waistband of your panties, while her darkened eyes stared down at you. You struggled to speak, your brain far too mushy to form a complete sentence. How in the hell were you this fucked out, and Hazel had barely touched you?
“P-please Haze… I need you mph… take them off…”
Another wicked grin appeared on Hazel's face as she leaned down again to praise your obedience. “Such a good girl.”
Her mouth latched onto your jaw as her fingers curled over the top of your waistband. You raised your hips, and Hazel pulled off your panties in one quick motion.
Now that you were completely exposed, you felt completely exposed, which wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable feeling. Your legs began to shut involuntarily, catching the attention of the girl hovered above you.
Her eyes went wide as she crawled off of you and put her hands up. “Hey, woah, are you ok? Do you wanna stop? I’m sorry! I should have checked in more. We can stop if you want. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Hazel’s sudden transition out of her dominant alter ego caught you off guard. Still though, you couldn’t help but melt a little. She was being so sweet, making sure you were ok, you almost felt a little bad for her. You didn’t mean to freak her out.
You sheepishly smiled up at her, a little embarrassed. “I’m fine. Really. It’s just a little weird being the only one naked is all.”
Hazel blinked at you, processing your words. Almost like a lightbulb went off in her head, she jumped up and practically tore all the clothing off her body, throwing each piece over her shoulder as soon as it was off. You couldn’t help but notice a string of arousal momentarily connecting her slick to her boxers, breaking only after she slid them down her legs.
Hazel’s body read like a painting, with each brush stroke precisely positioned to perfect the masterpiece. Her wetness glistened from in between her legs, and you couldn’t help but admire the beauty standing before you. However, you didn’t get to admire for long, as Hazel was already repositioning herself over you.
“Better?” She asked.
You sighed. “Definitely.”
Hazel immediately got to work trailing kisses down your body while thumbing through the folds of your slit. Soft moans echoed from your lips every time she’d slightly dip into your entrance for some more lubricant, and then frustrated groans would roll out whenever she immediately pulled out. God, she had access to every part of you and still managed to be such a tease.
Eventually, Hazel kissed her way down to your pelvic bone, hovering her face just over where you wanted her the most. Her hot breath tickled your dripping wet folds, making you tremble with anticipation. She stuck out her tongue and gently kitten-licked your clit to gauge your reaction, staring up at you as she did. A soft whimper left your throat, causing a smug smirk to form on Hazel’s face. Starting to gain some confidence back, she locked eyes with you and slowly licked up the entire length of your cunt, from your entrance all the way to the hood of your clit. You whined, throwing your head back against the carpet.
“Feel good?” Hazel asked, not bothering to wait for your response as she already knew the answer.
Hazel dived into you like a starved woman, lapping up your slick like it contained the very thing she needed to survive. Broken moans fell from your parted lips as you desperately grasped at her hair, trying to keep her exactly where you wanted her. Your hips bucked against her face, a part of you dying to see her features covered in your juices.
Her name found its way out of your mouth, almost involuntarily. “Hazel I… mph… fuck…”
“Fuck yeah. I love it when you say my name, pretty girl.” Hazel exclaimed, eyes rolling in the back of her head. You groaned. Dominant Hazel could have very easily put you into cardiac arrest, you were pretty sure.
The feeling of Hazel’s tongue against your engorged clit was hypnotizing, but your entrance was also twitching for attention. You wanted, no, you needed her inside you.
You grabbed Hazel’s hair and pulled it to lift her off you. She started to whine at the loss of your taste, but quickly looked up at you to make sure you were alright. “Everything ok, princess?”
“Hazel, I… I wanna ride your fingers. Please.” You panted breathlessly.
Hazel’s body shifted at your bold choice of words before a dark desire clouded her face again. “Of course.”
She reached up and crashed her lips against yours again, the taste of your own pussy still lingering on her tongue and coating your mouth in the most arousing way. You both readjusted to where she was on her back and you were now hovering over top of her. She adjusted her right hand in the “come here” position with her middle and ring fingers standing, and rested it in the middle of her thigh.
“All yours, honey.” She looked up at you with a goofy smile and half lidded eyes.
You positioned your entrance over her fingertips, shifting slightly before sliding down onto her knuckles. Hazel's fingers curled to hit your g-spot, forcing your head to fall back with a throaty groan.
“Feel good, gorgeous?” Another one of Hazel’s praises fell from her lips.
“Fuck Hazel, those nicknames are gonna kill me…” you whined.
Hazel smirked. “Oh yeah, you like that? Gorgeous? Pretty girl? My princess?”
As you were drinking in Hazel’s sweet nothings and riding her long fingers, your eyes fell down to her lap. Her exposed cunt glistened with her own arousal, dripping down her thighs and onto your carpet. A wicked idea popped into your head, and you couldn’t help but smirk.
Your hand traveled down to the folds of Hazel's slick, forcing the brunette beauty underneath you to jump at the sudden touch. “Honey, what are you…”
“Is this ok?” You asked softly. Hazel nodded quickly, realizing what you were getting at. You hastily licked your fingers and slid them into her twitching cunt.
Hazel moaned at the feeling of your fingers inside her. “Fuck, baby. Feels so good. So good to me.”
The longer you bounced on Hazel’s hand, the more you felt that familiar tight feeling in your abdomen. “Hazel, I’m…”
“Yeah… mph… me too.” She managed to whisper under her breath.
Hazel positioned her thumb to rub against your clit, forcing your body to tremble in sputtered shocks. You curled your palm to stimulate her clit, and you could tell she was almost as close as you were.
“Hazel, can we… mph… cum together?” You asked, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth.
The brunette underneath you was already starting to fall apart. “Fuck baby… so close… let go… I’ll follow… yeah?”
You rolled your hips against her, using your free hand to position her wrist where you needed her to touch you. Your hips sputtered, your core tightened, your clit throbbed. “Hazel, I… mph fUCK!”
Your head rolled back as you let out a sound so primal, you weren’t even sure it was sexy. Hazel soon followed, her groans and whimpers reverberating around the room as her hips sputtered under you. You rode out your climaxes together, the erotic sounds of sex disappearing into the nearly empty house.
Hazel couldn’t believe it. Not only was her longtime crush gay, not only was she fucking you, but she had just given you a mind-blowing orgasm at the same time you gave her one. Fuck, the very thought almost made her cum a second time.
You rolled off of her, and snuggled into her chest while she wrapped her arm around you. “Wow…”
“That was… unexpected…” Hazel muttered breathlessly.
You giggled. “Yeah, no kidding.”
A comfortable silence filled the room, both of you just enjoying the presence of the other, the project from before long forgotten.
You looked up at her, planting a soft kiss on her jaw. “Still think we can’t be friends?”
“I think we’re a little more than friends now.” Hazel chuckled.
Your heart fluttered at her suggestion. “Yeah? You want to?”
“I mean, yeah, if you want to.”
You nodded, snuggling back into her chest, close to falling asleep after so much activity. Hazel continued to stare up at the ceiling, a goofy grin plastered across her features.
“PJ is gonna lose her mind after this.”
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hallietblr · 1 year ago
Note
So my conrad request is basically the scene in season 1 where they (jeremiah and conrad) go to pick up the girls after they go skinny dipping but reader is there too and drives home with conrad?and smut but it could also just be fluff if you want
i’ve got you, always | c.fisher x reader
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a/n: yay!! another conrad fic :) <3 thank you so much for the request, i loved writing it and i hope you enjoy. i had it super fluffy at first but it kind of took its own turn so i hope it’s ok. also, thank you to everyone for all the support for my writing recently — you guys make my day and i can never thank you enough. i love you all truly!
warnings: slight angst, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, and swearing.
“are you fucking kidding me?!” taylor screams, putting her forearms onto the dock and searching, “i knew those girls were fucking bitches!”
belly and i swim towards her, “what happened?” belly asks,
“your fucking snake friends took our clothes and ran off, that’s what!” taylor hisses, “all that’s left are our phones.”
“they did what?” belly panics, lifting her high high enough to see the dock, “oh my god.”
i feel my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach and the colour in my face drain away. i didn’t even want to go skinny dipping in hopper’s cove but i did it anyways since taylor and belly along with belly’s friends were going.
“what do we do?” belly asks us, frantically looking around for a possible solution, “there’s a boat cover we could use!”
“are you fucking joking?” taylor scoffs, shaking her head, “absolutely not.”
“i’m calling conrad,” i tell them, grabbing my phone and clicking his name on speed dial.
i hear the girls bicker by me as my hands shake, bringing my phone to my ear, “c- conrad? i need you.”
“where are you?” he asks, concern laced into his voice. i briefly explain the situation as my lip quivers, “please hurry”
“i’ll be there as soon as i can, lovie. hang tight.” he promises before hanging up.
i turn to the girls and tell them that conrad is on his way while belly says that jeremiah is also coming. we patiently wait for what feels like hours in the water. i could feel my hands shaking as i keep myself propped up on the small dock since my legs were exhausted. my eyes were welling up with tears from anxiety — only hoping conrad will get here soon.
after what felt like hours, we heard a car’s engine running and then stop. he’s here.
“bells, n/n, oh my god,” jeremiah pants out, “i came as soon as you hung up.” he tells belly, “conrad is here too.”
on cue, conrad comes up behind jeremiah while holding a plastic bag of clothes, “nicole gave these to me. i hope everything’s in this.”
“thanks guys,” belly says sheepishly, “do you mind turning around?”
their eyes go widen in embarrassment but quickly turn around while taylor, belly, and i climb up onto the dock. we sift through the plastic bag, handing each other our clothes.
i quickly pull on my dry clothes onto my wet, water dripping body. i pull my drenched hair into a messy bun, with water droplets crawling down the back of my neck. the night breeze was freezing on my body. i shiver and close my hands into tight fists in attempt to stop the shaking.
taylor and belly are soon fully dressed again, in somewhat the same state as i was but much more collected than my embarrassed self.
“okay, you can turn around,” taylor tells the two brothers. they face us and motion us to follow them towards the cars.
“i can’t believe that they did that” jeremiah says, his arms crossed over his chest.
taylor scoffs, “i do, i literally called it that they were all bitches.”
conrad lets belly and taylor pass him to follow jeremiah, he gives me a small sympathetic smile and puts a comforting arm around me, “come on.”
we reach the two cars, belly and taylor whispering to each other, “we’ll ride with you, jere.” belly tells him before herself and taylor climb into the jeep. taylor gives me a quick wink before closing her door.
“see you two at home?” jeremiah asks conrad, who nods. the jeep soon pulls away onto the pitch black road and heads towards the fisher summer home.
“you okay?” conrad asks, facing me, “i’m sorry that happened, you didn’t deserve that.”
his hand is on my shoulder, his thumb slowly rubbing circles against the material of my shirt. i couldn’t even focus, and not in the typical sense when i’m around him. it’s usually butterflies, racing heart rate, heat on my cheeks, but this felt nearly the exact opposite.
it felt like my heart was being squeezed, my stomach was churning, and my stupid hands wouldn’t stop shaking. my vision was slightly blurry from the tears that were threatening to fall.
“you’re freezing,” he breathes out, “hold on”
he turns away and rummages around in the backseats of his car. conrad turns back to me and hands me a grey hoodie, his hoodie, “take this.”
i slowly take it from his hands, trying with every ounce of my strength to stop the shakiness of my hands. i didn’t want him to see the anxious state that i was in. it was such a stupid reason to be anxious anyways, taylor and belly were completely fine after getting their clothes. pissed off maybe, but not acting the way i was.
i have his hoodie in my hands but i don’t put it on.
“lets get you home, love.” he says but i can barely hear him with the ringing in my ears.
conrad starts walking towards his side of the car, assuming that i was also getting into the vehicle — but i feel frozen. stuck in one place.
why was it getting harder to breathe?
conrad’s hand is on the small of my back and my heart rate spikes up to an unbelievable high level, but not in that way. something is wrong, and my chest is hurting.
my hand goes to my sternum of my chest, slowing rubbing it as my breathing picks up. my body was trembling and my chest was rising and falling at a concerning pace.
“babe?” he stands up from his seat. my legs felt weak yet everything else felt heavy, why is it heavy? i feel myself collapse towards the gravel, but i don’t fall.
conrad was able to get to my side quick enough to prevent me from falling. his strong arms wrapped around me, “hey… hey, what’s wrong?”
i shake my head repeatedly, “i- i-” i stutter out and it’s hard to speak, my throat feels dry and it hurts.
he cradles me on the side of the road, “sh, it’s okay. nice and slow, what’s going on?”
“i c- can’t breathe” i tell him, his finger interlace with my shaking ones. he brings my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on them,
“you’re okay, love,” he says softly, “you’re having a panic attack.”
my eyes widen, i’ve never had one of those before. i shut my eyes in fear. my breathing doesn’t slow down for a moment, if anything, it feels like it’s going even faster now.
“look at me,” he whispers, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind my ear, “baby, look at me please.”
i open my eyes to look into his blue ones, “breathe with me, okay? nice and slow.”
i watch as conrad takes a deep breath, i try to but i don’t think it’s even possible to breathe.
“in,” he inhales, i attempt at copying his actions by taking a breath of air in, “and out.”
exhale.
my breath trembles out of my lips, he slowly nods, “just like that, in…. and out.”
we take a few more deep breaths together, until mine regulates again. conrad smiles at me, “there you go, now do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”
i swallow, “i didn’t even want to go skinny dipping with the girls, i don’t fit in with them. they’re all so pretty and fun and everyone loves them. i’m nothing like them.”
a tear slips from the corner of my eye, conrad is quick to wipe it away, “so, i thought if i did it then maybe i’ll be like them. i thought they liked me too, fuck’s sake i’m so gullible. they all left! with me naked in some stupid cove.” i cry out, burying my face into my hands.
“oh, baby,” conrad coos, “sh…” he places a kiss on my hair.
he pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around my torso and placing his chin on my head, “you don’t deserve that, and you’re perfect the way you are. i don’t want to hear any of that ‘no one likes me’ shit, ok? because i do.”
“wh- what?” i ask, looking at him with watery eyes.
“i think you’re amazing just as you are,” he repeats, “you’re my y/n, i don’t want you to be one of those debutante sheep. i love you as y/n.”
my heart fills with so much love, i reach up to pull him into a kiss. he kisses me back immediately, his hands trailing up from my waist to cup my face.
“lets go home, yeah?” he asks after pulling away, “lets get you showered and into some comfy, warm, and dry clothes. we can cuddle and watch a movie. sounds good?”
“sounds perfect.” i blush, i finally pull on his grey hoodie. it falls to my mid thigh and it smells like him; cologne, cigarettes, and ocean water.
conrad helps me to my feet and opens the car door for me, “oh, and conrad?”
he looks down at me and hums, “thank you for coming to get me.” i say to him.
“i’ve got you baby, always.” conrad responds with a kiss before closing the car door.
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worldsover · 1 year ago
Text
Transcendence/Pareidolia ft. Heejin
length ✦ 10k
genres ✧ it's a lot of oral, but hey, there's plot too; friends-to-lovers!Heejin
✦✧✦✧✦✧
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Your fist clenches in a tight ball.
"If I die because of you, you better feed my fish."
"Die? You're being ridiculous," Heejin says.
You have a lot you could retort in that moment. Such as, "Me, the ridiculous one?" Or, "I'm being serious, I'm gonna actually die." Or, "You're actively contributing to the degradation of the meaning of language if you're claiming my suffering as ridiculous and assuming I'm participating in the honorable but currently inapplicable trope of hyperbole." All these things you can say, and you're without audible retort. This is the fourth time today Heejin's lips encircle your shaft; you were past dry by the third, because she would not let go of your cock for five minutes after your climax (because you didn't stop her).
Heejin's eyes beg, her lashes flutter, her tongue tempts, slithering, slick, and you think maybe you can spare her one more load.
Her mouth slips smoothly from the base of your cock to the head and then, pop. One big bubble of spit. She adds more, saliva foaming up on her tongue that's sticking out and toying with your tip.
"Don't die? Pwease?"
How ridiculous—or you could transcend to immortality at her behest.
All the while, she's sucking your dick in this bathroom like it's mere leisure for her. Like cigarettes to a smoker, she's blowing you like smoke, dirtying her throat, burning you up. Far past dignity now, the only thing she has between her knees and the floor is a bunch of toilet paper. The picture of addiction she paints is unfortunate and raw honesty and vivid contrast between such an elegant woman and such an inelegant solution to hunger. Despite how cavalier and practiced she is about introducing your tip to her uvula, Heejin will never give you a tidy blowjob. She salivates, every time, her tongue a wicked beast of its own, a serpent that can't lie above its love. And on the other hand, you can grumble and grouse all you want—if Heejin says your cock is going in her mouth, then…
You should've seen this coming like how you don't see yourself cumming because your eyelids are wired shut by the pretty agony of this orgasm. When you open them, her (fake, important to make the distinction) glasses are covered in streaks, her hands still twisting, tongue still licking your underside. Determination in her eyes says that every drop will be wrung out. It's possible this isn't leisure, but rather, business, and cum margins are getting lower as damnable inflation rises. She'll squeeze you dry for every last dollar of semen, no apologies to the sperm banks.
When Heejin is done, she sips on your cockhead, then a final kiss. You slump over the toilet and she pats your shoulder, laughing; it's a mean-spirited chuckle, but your dying wish is to hear that laugh one last time, so good on her for the penny of kindness she could spare like an insurance company donating to a hospital.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
"How could anyone love sucking dick that much?" Jinsol asks.
You look at Jinsol, then look at Heejin. Then, look at Haseul, and look at Heejin again. You've never gotten used to this dynamic. How much are you supposed to interject between three drunk girls talking? Are you meant to at all? The topic has already gone off-course, and there's no captain to steer the ship back when you're six bottles down.
Your eyes fall on Heejin, then Haseul.
"Oh, man," Heejin says, downing a shot. Her hand falls around her cleavage, as she feels the warmth of the alcohol envelop her and shudders, eyes closed. "Do you really want to get into this?"
Look at Jinsol and Haseul as they laugh, and you join in laughter, and you look at Heejin again; now, she's serious, rolled up her sleeves for good measure. Let's address the whole looking at Heejin thing, because it's so apparent, even to your drunk ass, that it must be apparent to the others too—you asked her out a while ago, first year of college, rejection, but you're still friends now. Then, despite that, she started getting touchier, somehow more flirtatious. Drove and drives you fucking mad. This little hangout thing at Haseul's place is a long ways away (call it half a year) from getting four oral sessions in a day, though you remember it as being a pivotal stepping stone to the routine.
Focus. You're always putting on a performance, and the actors of the nerves of your brain are having trouble getting the script from the filing cabinets. Question: is it more or less suspicious to allocate, say, three glances toward Haseul and Jinsol each to compensate?
"Sure," Haseul says, still giggling to herself. She's been doing that ever since asked the first question. "What's so wonderful about getting your jaw sore and your mouth dry?"
Heejin makes an angry noise and says through gritted teeth, "It's not about that, obviously. There's so much more to sucking dick than the…" She gestures with her arms, unable to find a word.
"Why do you like it, Heejin?" you ask. Everyone stares at you. "Sorry, nevermind."
"No, no, it's fine," Heejin says."Lemme just, how do I put this? It's like, when you're sucking dick, you feel like you're controlling the dude. You decide when he gets hard, when he gets wet, and when he cums."
"So, you're a sadist," Jinsol says.
"Sadist, my ass," Heejin retorts. "It's… empowering. Sucking dick is empowering."
Huh. The alcohol fizzles and dies in your mind, and Heejin's deep voice echoes in your head to take the place—oh, Heejin is fucking wasted, by the way. Drank as much as the other two combined, but still standing (sitting), but barely.
"Weird," Jinsol replies.
Haseul crosses her arms, facing Jinsol. "Hey, don't kink shame."
"No, no, you don't get it. There's another reason," Heejin continues, verging mad by now. Her cheeks are turning red. "Dicks taste good. Taste amazing, even. And… dicks have faces."
Haseul spits out soju. Jinsol coughs soju. You're lucky you weren't mid-drink.
"Dicks have faces?" Jinsol and Haseul say together.
"Y-yeah," Heejin says, her face flushed. "Dicks have faces. Like, if you suck on the head a bit, you can see different expressions. If you lick the underside, you can see them smile. If you swallow deep… they cry."
Your pants tighten. Somehow, you get it.
She says quietly and quickly, "Oh and also I like the taste of cum. Alright, fine, I really like the taste of cum." She gets louder. "Fine, okay, geez, I LOVE the taste of cum! Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Everyone bursts out in laughter. Heejin sips angrily on soju.
"Alright, Heejin," you say. "That was quite an enlightening explanation."
"Shut up, you," she says, sternly.
You gulp.
Haseul and Jinsol go get snacks from the kitchen, leaving you and Heejin alone.
"Dicks have faces, huh," you say.
"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"
"Not a chance. You know, no one made you say all that."
Heejin grumbles. You try to get closer, but she puts her hand on your thigh.
"You've got a boner," she says. "Stop."
"Wha? What do you mean?"
"Stop." Heejin stares at you with a serious face, contrasting all the redness in her cheeks.
You don't know where to start with a response.
"It's just, I don't wanna make things weird"—too late—"and obviously all this girls' talk has you riled up or whatever"—by the way, Heejin's hand is slinking higher up your pants—"and I know it's not your fault, but, we're friends, and I don't wanna ruin that."
"S-sorry."
"Good boy."
Heejin had to look in your eyes while saying that one, huh?
You clear your throat, and all efforts to tame your second brain fail. Another drink. It's agonizing, waiting for Haseul and Jinsol to return. Then, Haseul and Jinsol return. Snacks. Too little, too late. There are probably other conversations as the night goes on, but your mind is already spinning from the alcohol, spinning even further at dirty thoughts incepted by Heejin. Eventually, Haseul and Jinsol conk out, and Heejin helps you carry them to Haseul's room.
"Heejin," you say. "I can carry them myself."
"Yeah, I know. Isn't it usually Jinsol who passes out last?"
You would scoff at Heejin's remark, though with your mind elsewhere, you just nod. After you lay Jinsol and Haseul delicately on the bed, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, where you jerk off furiously. You've never tugged yourself without a video in tow or some other material to assist, and you've never felt this urge drunk, but the mere concept of Heejin sucking off your cock like she needs it is enough for you to cum. Mark this as the inevitable inciting incident: the door swings open as you pump your last shot.
You make eye contact. Heejin blinks. Cum flies.
"Uh," you say.
"Woah," she says.
You say nothing.
Heejin closes the door.
"Shit," you mutter and you've used too much toilet paper wiping down where you shot and you're fumbling and you almost trip over yourself and—goddammit, what the fuck just happened. Once you clean yourself off, you go outside.
Heejin is standing there.
"It's fine. Don't sweat it," she says.
"I… I don't know if I can. You know. If I can, like, not sweat it, fuck." You sigh. "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing. Look, I'm gonna take the bed in her other room, you're fine with the couch right?"
You're drifting in and out of consciousness on the couch when Heejin shakes you awake.
"Huh?" you say.
"You know, I lied."
"About what?"
"Sucking dick having faces."
You blink. You rub your eyes.
"I lied. Dicks don't have faces. Cocks have personalities."
You're too tired to say anything. You just stare at Heejin. You smell a bit more alcohol on her shirt.
"Well, no, I mean, it's true, dicks have faces. But also cocks have personalities."
You think, but no words come out.
"The difference is, um, when a cock has personality, it has preferences and stuff. Like… preference for speed, depth, and tightness. When a cock has personality, you can tell when it likes and doesn't like what you're doing."
You nod off.
"Like, I could tell you would really like if I take all of you in my mouth. You definitely look more like an intimate, slow deepthroat kind of guy, you know, instead of the facefucking, gagging thing. It's like MBTI, yeah, that's it. Your cock is definitely an I, not an E. Oh, maybe a lot of tongue action? But not in the teasing the tip for the whole time sort of thing. Or, am I wrong? What kind of blowjobs do you like? Because you have the kind of cock I wanna tease, and the kind of dick I wanna kiss and why did you waste that load on a tissue, like are you kidding…"
Your eyes are closed.
A woman's deep voice. "Right. Well. Anyways, it's pretty late, and we're both drunk. So, uh. Good night. I guess."
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You wake up. Sunlight. Snack wrappers. Haseul and Jinsol nowhere to be found, or awake, rather. Heejin is next to you on the couch—no, you're hugging each other—actually, she's draped over you like a blanket, and your erection is pushing against her ass.
Heejin wakes up.
"Shit," you say, getting up. "I'm sorry."
"Didn't I tell you to... ugh, whatever."
You sit on Haseul's couch, rubbing the sleep and hangover out of your face, crust out of your eyes. You stretch, hearing creaks in your bones. Heejin sits up, looks forward.
"Last night," she starts. "I might have said some, uh, crazy things."
You snort.
Looking at you, she frowns. She doesn't seem hungover at all, not a bead of sweat on her forehead. Her hair is perfect, as are her pouty lips.
Your brow upturned, you scoff. "Like, crazy? That's one way to put…"
There's a twist in those lips now, like she's running it back in her head; now you are too.
"I mean—yeah, that's the right word, but..."
She's still staring at you, and your mind's really running in circles and sure she laid out the track herself but you could just run off it at any time.
Oh, you're following the track still? "It's, just, I'm, I'm sorry for, what I was, you know, doing. Last night."
Heejin sighs. "I told you. Stop apologizing. It's fine."
"Okay," you say.
You make an excuse to Heejin about getting home, despite wanting nothing more than to spend time with her. What's the point of hanging out when it's just going to make your crush on her worse.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
When you get home, you end up jerking off three times in a row in your own bathroom, but at least you aren't interrupted any of those times. 
A few days after the party, you've been thinking about Heejin's joke a lot more than you should.
The worst thing is that Heejin is being all chummy with you again like nothing happened. You wonder if she's doing that on purpose. Either way, you've learned that you need to distance yourself. You've been avoiding group hangouts. You haven't answered your texts in a couple days. You've avoided the pet store the both of you always visit, instead opting to support local businesses like—insert large delivery corporation here (no free advertising)—for your fish food. This goes on for a week.
The week ends when Jungeun comes to your house.
"What?" you say, lounging, staring at air bubbles floating to the top of your little aquarium.
"Don't 'what' me," Jungeun replies through the closed door. "Open up."
"No."
"Look, I'm here because Heejin is really sad, and so Haseul wanted to know why you're not talking to Heejin, and I volunteered because I could tell Heejin really wants to see you and not just talk to you."
"Jungeun, I don't know."
"Listen. I'm not leaving."
Ten minutes later, Jungeun is eating potato chips in your room.
"So… why are you avoiding her?" Jungeun asks.
"What does she want to say to me?" you ask.
Jungeun pauses. "She… told me to tell you to go see her."
You sit on your sofa next to Jungeun, grabbing chips out of the bag. They're your chips.
"She didn't tell me to tell you what exactly it is, but it's important," Jungeun continues. "But honestly, what's been up with you?"
"Nothing's been up with me. I'm the same guy."
"That sounds like someone who has not been the same guy."
You eat more chips. "And how are things going with you and Jinsol," you say.
Jungeun stops slouching. "Hey, don't try and change the subject. For the record, it's been going fine, thank you very much."
"Sounds like you're still in the friendzone."
"You're the last person I want to hear that from."
"Me, the last person? I'd assume Jinsol would be the last person you want to hear that from."
"Fine! Just stop being a dumbass, okay? Heejin really, really wants to talk to you."
You put your hands up. "Okay. You win. I'll talk to her."
"Awesome." Jungeun looks down at her phone, then looking back up, she smiles. "Oh, by the way, Yerim just texted me, she finally finished exams for the semester. What if Heejin and Yerim both come over? We can get everything out of the way, two for one deal."
You sigh. "Yeah, I guess."
She pats you on the shoulder.
You feel no less comforted.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Two for one deal, your ass. You're pacing around your bedroom. Yerim and Jungeun are playing Smash in the living room, and Heejin is… somewhere, probably. The door is shut. All the noise in the world is muffled. You don't know what to expect. Obviously, Heejin needs to talk to you; you're her friend, one of her best friends, and you've been ignoring her for the past week. You sit down. Take a deep breath.
Knock, knock.
"Come in," you say.
You sit on your bed. So does Heejin. You look away. Look down. She smells really, really good, sweet and warm. You've missed her, a lot.
"Hey," Heejin says.
So she's talking first. "Hey," you respond.
You were already loosening up your tense shoulders, but Heejin says "So, Mr. Dickface" and you laugh and you look at Heejin, casually stunning in a simple outfit, a white tee, black shorts.
"Heejin, come on. It's been a week. I swear I would've forgotten if you didn't bring it up."
She pouts.
"Okay," you say, "alright, I would have not forgotten, fine. I still can't believe you. Dicks having faces."
She laughs now.
There's a lull in the conversation. The sound of Yerim shouting and buttons mashing is barely audible. You turn to face Heejin, and she's still looking at you. Her eyes are… soft, vulnerable. She's holding herself.
"Listen," Heejin says. "I'm sorry if I've been weird these past... mmm, months? I know you're not dumb, and I guess, I've been treating you like you are."
You whisper, "I am dumb though."
"No, you're not." She scoffs. "I'm sorry, seriously. We're friends. And friends don't lead each other on and play games"—the sound of a cheer coming from outside the room, definitely Jungeun—"okay, well, they do, but friends don't keep their friends wondering."
"Wondering?"
Heejin sighs. "Let me just get this off my chest. So, yeah, I like you. A lot. Obviously, you've liked me since the beginning. Or, well, loved. When you asked me out, I was excited and nervous and confused, but I... You know me. I've got a million things going on at the same time. Dating as a possibility didn't even cross my mind."
"Yeah. I get it. I don't blame you for that. I guess if we're both laying it all out, I get it. I swear I do. It's that dynamic that always fucks up a friendship between guy and a girl, and I think it's good we got that question out of the way early. But like, I was shocked, obviously, when you started touching me so much, holding hands, sitting on my lap, hugging me." You pause and look away. "It felt good, but it also felt wrong. Like you were playing with my feelings."
Heejin reaches out and takes your hand. "I wasn’t playing with you," she says softly. “I was playing with myself"—half a giggle comes out of you, adding some levity, and she smacks your shoulder—"No, not like that. What was I saying? Right, I guess I was trying to figure out what I wanted."
"Right." Your head hangs again. "So what? I'm just a bystander? A side effect?"
"Yes."
She laughs, squeezing your hand. You pout.
"I'm kidding. You're more than that. Way more. I've learned that much by now."
Heejin takes a long pause.
You can hear breathing, neither exhalations nor inhalations matching pace. It's tense.
"You know what else I learned? Because there's something else on my mind right now. Sort of, sparking in my head, shouting. I know we're having this whole heartfelt thing and I'm sorry for ruining it, but I have to say this because you have a boner and it's springing in your pants and I might be drooling or something—fuck. I've learned that I love sucking dick. A lot. Okay?"
This is the first time you've seen Heejin get so flustered, so bothered. So are you.
She isn't looking at you, yet she continues anyway: "Well. I have to be honest. That's all hypothetical. You know, I've never actually done it. I've just thought about it. A lot. And, obviously, you know, cucumbers turn to dildos and other toys and stuff. And then I saw your dick. And now I've thought about your dick and keep thinking about it."
Your heart skips a beat.
"Yeah." Heejin starts nodding, gaining confidence. "Yeah. I'm certain now. And please, don't think you're taking advantage of me or something, because you're not. In fact, I want you to take advantage of me."
Your breath stays in your lungs.
"How about this," Heejin says, leaning in more. "Do you wanna… fuck around? Or, well, I mean, that's a crass way of putting it. Be my partner in crime. Suckbuddy. Fuckfriend. Whatever you call it. No strings attached. You want a blowjob? You'll get a blowjob. That kind of thing. Even if it's not dating or whatever, we just do what we want to do and we can figure it out later."
Your smile grows slowly. "You know what? Sounds good to me."
"That's it? I drop all that in front of you and you're just, 'sounds good to me'?"
"Okay, fine. Here. I forgive you. That good?"
"Actually, that helps." Heejin exhales, a sigh of relief. "Great."
Silence. Cleared throats. The both of you sit closer now. Her knees bump into yours, and she giggles. She holds your hand. Your eyes meet. You're holding her gaze and her body heat is emanating from her skin and you want her, badly.
"You look handsome today," Heejin whispers. "Have I told you that lately?"
"No," you say, quieter, feeling meek. "You haven't. Thank you."
Her free hand brushes strands of hair.
"Your hair, so cute," she says, happily humming.
Heejin scoots even closer as her knee nudges between your legs.
"Nothing to say? Mm… okay. I have a question."
"What is it?"
Heejin kisses you, immediately catching your lips before you can breath, a taste of chocolate-tinged lip gloss, as her tongue mingles with yours. Her hand lays over your bulge, and her leg is still bumping into your crotch. She pulls away.
"Wow. You're kissing good," she says, flustered.
"No, you're better at it. Amazing. You're amazing."
"God, you're sweet." She laughs.
Your mouths are together again. You pull her into a hug, and she squeals.
"Woah there," she says.
"Sorry. Got a little excited."
"It's fine." Heejin looks away. 
You squeeze her harder, and she squeezes you harder. You break the hug.
"Hey. How far," Heejin starts, "do you think we want to go?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like, right now. In the moment. If I'm reading this right, and I think I am, you really, really want me. So how far? Are we just gonna kiss this time? Or do you wanna go a bit further? A lot further."
You freeze. "Honestly, you decide."
"You sure? Because, if I had it my way, I, um, I don't think I'll stop sucking your dick until Yerim finally wins a round and they wonder where the fuck we've been."
Your eyes are wide. "Y-you're really picturing that, aren't you? The two of them barging in while my cock is down your throat."
She does not reply.
"You are unbelievable."
"I can't help it," she says, almost whining. "You have the sort of cock I really want to play with."
You pull Heejin back into another hug, kissing her. She pushes you onto the bed and straddles your thighs. Her body heat, her scent, her hands caressing you. This is the first time you're feeling this much of her body against your own, and it's incredible. Even better—much, much better—is when she lifts up her shirt, revealing a simple, black bra. She takes her shirt off completely, and your hands grab at her stomach. How many times have you watched her do ab workouts for an ungodly amount of time, hoping one day you could feel her six-pack for yourself? Your hands then trail up higher, until you're grabbing at her tits, still ensconced within the confines of a bra, but her breasts are heavenly, perky, waiting to be squished and bounced on your hands.
Heejin has other designs for you: she grabs both of your wrists and pins them to the bed above your head. Your pants are tenting, and she grinds against your cock. You moan.
"I love seeing you like this," Heejin says. She lowers her torso onto yours, breasts spilling out of her bra a bit. She grinds harder, and you moan again. "You're so hot, and you're all for me. God, I wanna… fuck around so much."
She backs up, dragging her crotch down your leg as she descends. When she reaches your foot, she sits and puts it between her legs.
"Shit, Heejin," you say.
She bends over to kiss your neck.
"Your foot… feels good. I'll never say that again, so don't you dare make fun of me."
"Wouldn't dream of it. You can always tell me what you like."
She's rubbing her crotch against your ankle and taking your shirt off. Her lips move down to your nipple, licking circles around it.
"Your cock… feels big," she says. She grabs at it through your pants. "I'm so fucking excited for the real thing."
You've imagined this moment so many times. You'd fantasized about being pinned to a bed, about being teased by Heejin, of course, but you didn't expect, couldn't ever picture how she'd really sound, how she'd actually feel, how it would feel to be touched, licked, kissed by her. And yet here she is, biting on your nipple, moaning herself as she uses your foot.
She lets go. "Your… chest is so nice."
"Uh, thanks."
Heejin smiles and returns to biting, but on your other nipple instead. Her next pecks and licks are on your own abs, tracing over your six pack, following the ridges and dips with her tongue. She takes your waistband in her mouth. Slowly, she pulls down. You lift your hips, and then your pants are off. Heejin drags her cheek against your cock through your underwear, eyes closed.
"Your scent… is amazing." She licks the fabric along your length, where it bulges. "Mmm, this is what I'm talking about."
Your cockhead is poking out of your waistband. She kisses it, and then sucks on it through your underwear.
"Heejin, take it… off."
She stops, eyes wide. She pulls your waistband with her mouth, and you lift your hips again. She tugs it down, your cock sprinting out.
"Oh, wow," she says.
"W-what is it?"
"Your cock… is really, really gorgeous."
You gulp. "Thanks."
Heejin takes your cockhead in her mouth. You close your eyes. She swirls her tongue around the tip. She bobs down, lips wrapped around your shaft. Then, pop. She takes your cock out of her mouth, holding it in her hand.
"Is this… okay?" she asks.
"More than okay. Really, really, really okay."
"Good." She jerks you off, her spit easing the friction.
"Shit, Heejin."
"God, I love hearing you say my name."
She moves faster, your cock slick in her palm. She alternates between fast and slow. One second, she's going quick, and the next, her hand is barely moving, and your cock is twitching in her grasp. Her thumb strokes your underside.
"I… love teasing you," Heejin says. "I love making you beg for me to go faster."
"Please, go faster, then."
"You're so cute." She goes slower. You groan.
Heejin moves her grip to your balls, stroking your underside with her thumb again. Her other hand grabs the base of your cock. Her mouth returns, sucking on your balls. She's pumping up and down.
"Fuck, Heejin, please… go faster."
"Again."
You gulp. "Please, Heejin, go faster."
"Good boy."
Her hand speeds up. Your balls are getting sucked, her tongue licking around them, and her other hand is jerking, and it's like she's milking you. Your climax is imminent. You warn her.
"You're gonna make me cum."
Heejin pops off your balls and takes your cock out of her hand. She lowers her torso.
"I've been waiting so long for this," she says.
She swallows you.
Her tongue is slathering your shaft, and she's bobbing down, and her lips are tight around you. The tip of your cock bumps into the back of her throat. Her hand is caressing your balls. Her other hand is pumping the rest of your shaft. She comes up, taking a deep breath, and her eyes are watering. You wipe the tears away. She smiles, as if she's satisfied with having gagged on your shaft, as if she believes with her heart of hearts her own doctrine, and in such resolve of her mouth returning, you can't deny it.
Maybe her jaw hurts. Maybe her throat's dry. But you sense none of it. Deeper, you hit the back of her throat again, and her lips still curl up into a smile even through more tears. She's still pumping, and her other hand is pinching her nipples. Heejin moans. Her moan vibrates your cock, and her moan vibrates her throat, and her moan vibrates her tongue, like, holy shit, you've never felt anything better. And then…
"Heejin, I'm… cumming."
She stays down. You shoot. Her eyes widen. Another shot, and her eyes are closed. Another shot, and you're groaning, and her throat is swallowing. More shots. You're pumping Heejin full of your cum, and she's pumping you empty. Heejin, relentless, keeps sucking. You try and push her off, meteors dancing in your mind, but she won't budge. She stays down, her eyes still closed.
"Heejin, wait, wait, I'm so, so sensitive."
Heejin shakes her head. With her mouth still full, she says, "Wah, want… ahll."
You collapse. Heejin keeps sucking. Your cock is twitching in her mouth, and you try backing up in your mattress until you hit the headboard. You grip the sheets. You can't stop cumming. Every suck Heejin takes is another shot down her throat, each one joined by a satisfied "mm, mm", and swallowed without hesitation. You lose track of how many shots you pump into her. Even when you stop spurting semen into her mouth, and your orgasm is subsiding, Heejin stays down. She moves her lips from the base of your cock up to your tip, and she sticks her tongue out to cushion the underside of your shaft. You're shaking. You can't stop shaking.
"Heejin," you say—no, you gasp it; you croak it out; you despair for the name, "wait."
She does just that. Wait. With your cock in her lips like a popsicle, and she's waiting for you to melt. She breathes through her nose, humming to herself. You shudder. Your cock is still sensitive.
"Please… wait."
Heejin listens. She doesn't suck, and she doesn't bob. She waits. Your orgasm is over. Your mind is fading.
Pop.
She sucks the tip. Pop. She takes your cock out of her mouth, holding it in her hand again. Her tongue sticks out and licks up your shaft, where all the leftover cum and spit and saliva has gathered.
"Ahh." Her tongue is covered in white cream. A gulp. "Ahh." Her tongue is clean.
If you need a few more breaths, unfortunately you've used up all the air already, and you're just running on whatever other fumes now. "You… are insane," you say.
She giggles. "Was it that bad?"
"No, no, no, it was… the best. And the worst. A-are you gonna do that every time?"
"Do what?"
"Never mind."
Heejin crawls on top of your body. Your cock is nestled between her thighs. She lies on top of you.
"Did you like it?" she asks.
"Yes."
"Do you wanna… keep being fuckfriends with me? Suckbuddies? While I talked all the game about blowjobs, I wouldn't mind if you gave me a little oral service once in a while too." She says quietly, like she's felt bashfulness for the first time in her life, "And, I, um, am down to do more too. A little later. Or something."
"Of course. Yeah."
You wrap your arms around her.
"Good," Heejin says.
She kisses you. Your cum is on her lips, and she's sharing the taste with you. You taste yourself. It's nothing terrible, but she did gulp your load down without stopping, so, you can't fully empathize with her enthusiasm. Still, you reciprocate, savoring Heejin instead.
You hear cheering from outside the room.
"Think Jungeun won," Heejin says.
You snort. "Should we… go out? Pretend like nothing's changed?"
"I'm sure we'll figure something out."
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You and Heejin end up deciding not to hide anything, but not telling the girls either. They'd find out sooner or later, and besides, you'd both want to brag about it, eventually.
After the three of them say their goodbyes and leave your house, you head straight to your bathroom. You thought Heejin's lips fully drained you dry, but apparently not, because you shoot more loads thinking of how her throat swallowed you.
You receive a text from her.
> miss you already ;)
You smile.
> Miss you too. can't wait for next time.
Heejin sends a photo. A strand of spit falls from her lips, down to her cleavage. Your heart skips a beat.
> neither can i <3
You save the photo.
Your phone buzzes again.
> don't jack off to it though
> Too late.
You send your fingers and shaft covered in cum.
She sends a photo again, of her frowning.
> wtf!! that was my load! i'm gonna kill you!!!
You laugh and send a text with your other hand. 
> Love you.
> lol yeah yeah whatever
You send another photo of your cock.
> another pic. As my apology
> wait.... didn't you say you just jerked off
> yeah?
> and you're still hard?
You gulp.
> guess so.
> you're such a stud. come over. i'll help you with that
You can't get dressed fast enough.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You meet halfway. A park, late at night. Fastest option, you're both too horny. You and Heejin are behind a building, some sort of community center, too late to be open or for the sun to shine down on the two of you being so daring outdoors.
Heejin's lips are on your neck, bound to leave marks, but you can't find yourself caring. Her hand is massaging your balls over your shorts, her other hand is down your underwear pumping your shaft, and her thigh is grinding against your cock. She kisses you.
You grab her jaw and pull her off you. "Um, I'm sorry. I, um, I think we might wanna establish some ground rules or something."
She stares at you, wide-eyed. "Ground rules? Like, safewords and stuff?"
"Uh, I guess, yeah. I just… I don't know, it'd make me feel more comfortable if, you know, we had some boundaries."
Heejin sighs. "Fine. Fair. Makes sense, I guess. I'm not a huge fan of… talking about feelings and stuff, but, I get it."
"Right, so, um, obviously, no feelings, and, I dunno, no dating?"
"Yep. You can see other girls. I'll see other dudes. Nothing serious."
"Sure. Yeah. Okay."
Heejin continues pumping your cock. "Anything… else?"
You gulp. "Safeword, I guess. And, like, is there anything you're… not okay with?"
"Um, not sure. Never thought about it."
"Okay, well, what's a word you hate?"
"Hmm… dick."
You blink.
Heejin giggles. "Just kidding. Um, I dunno, uh, penis? Cock? Uhh… sausage."
"Sausage?"
"Yeah. Sausage."
You pause. "And if, you know, I can't speak?"
"Tap three times on me or whatever. Three for sausage. Sounds good?"
"Yep. Three for sausage."
"Great. Anything else?"
"There was one thing in particular I was thinking about. So like, one time, I nutted seven times in a day."
Her mouth starts to water. "Really?"
"Yeah."
Heejin pumps faster. "That's… amazing."
"No, but that's the thing. I gotta set limits, Heejin. Even this, third time, it's, it's a lot. Too much."
She frowns. "What, so… no multiple nut sessions?"
"Once a week. Maybe."
"Fine, fine, okay. Once a week."
"Okay, cool. Ground rules established. Sausage as the safeword. No dating, seeing other people. Three times for sausage. One nut session a week."
"Got it." Heejin resumes pumping your shaft.
"Hey, Heejin, um, what do you want me to… do, when you're blowing me?  Anything you want? Because it feels like I'm just"—she gets on her knees—"kinda doing nothing and"—she pulls your shorts and underwear down—"you're doing"—she puts your cockhead in her mouth—everything, see!"
Pop. "Yeah. I dunno. Don't worry about me. Focus on yourself."
"Wait, Heejin, but, aren't we partners in crime, fuckbuddies, whatever, I wanna, like, make you feel good too."
"I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Dickface." She jerks your shaft, and your knees buckle. You figure you might as well sit on the concrete floor, your back slumped on the brick wall. It's a makeshift position that you'll learn to get used to. She lowers her face to your crotch, then continues, "But don't worry. Feeling your cock cum is enough to make me feel good."
Heejin licks circles around your shaft, where the precum has gathered. Her hand is pumping the rest. Your cock is already twitching.
"Besides," she continues, "if you focus on me… we'd never get anywhere."
Pop.
She swallows you.
"Heejin, shit."
Her bobbing is relentless. She's pumping your shaft and massaging your balls, and she's deepthroating your shaft. Her spit is drenching your cock, and her lips are tight, and her tongue is slathering. Heejin's bobbing up and down, and your cockhead bumps into the back of her throat. Your balls clench. You shoot.
Pop.
Heejin takes your cockhead out of her mouth. Her hand is jerking, and the first shot hits her lips. The second, she opens her mouth to catch. The third, she closes her lips. The fourth, she catches in her mouth again. The fifth, she swipes up with her tongue. The sixth, she catches. The seventh, she misses, and your cum lands on her cheek. The eighth, she misses again, and your cum lands on her chin. The ninth, Heejin opens her mouth, and your cum falls right in. She gulps. The tenth, she misses again, and your cum lands on her neck. Heejin's pumping slows.
"That… was… amazing," you say.
Pop. "Yeah."
"Fuck. I'm just saying. Next time, I'm going to get a taste of your pussy." You open your mouth. "See, my mouth's watering just thinking about it."
"Yeah?" She jerks your shaft. Another shot lands on her neck. She wipes your cum and sticks her finger in your mouth. "You're adorable. But you're right. Next time."
✦✧✦✧✦✧
The two of you had ramyeon at a convenience store after, then said bye. Like friends. Just friends.
The next time is two days later, at night again. This time, you finally go to Heejin's apartment. You haven't been here in a long time, not since she moved in. It's cleaner than you remember.
"Make yourself at home," Heejin says.
You sit on her couch. She sits next to you. You kiss. Your hands are groping her breasts, and her hand is pumping your shaft. You lift her shirt, and her tits are freed from her bra. Her nipples are hard. You pinch them.
"Hey, wait, stop, stop," she says.
"Sausage?"
"N-no, I'm… fine, just, wait."
"What is it?"
"Um, so… I kinda… made a mess. Earlier."
"What… kind of mess?"
She giggles. "On my bed. You'll see."
Heejin leads you to her room.
"Holy shit," you say.
"Surprise?"
She's made a mess, alright. Sheets stained white, spots and splotches, streaks and trails, the whole nine yards. Your cock twitches, even if you're confused how one woman could make such a mess on her own.
"I was, um, thinking about sucking your cock all day yesterday. I didn't wanna touch myself, but I couldn't help it."
"I'm glad."
Heejin lies on her bed, pulling her shorts and underwear off. Her pussy is glistening. She spreads her legs.
"Come. Lick it."
"I've been waiting for this." You crawl on top of Heejin's body and put your face between her legs. You lick circles around her slit. You lick up and down her folds. "I don't exactly have toys to practice on like you... so I'm gonna need to do plenty of catching up."
"Don't worry. Practice away."
You lick circles again, and Heejin's quiet. You lick up and down, and she's quiet. You flick her clit, and Heejin's quiet. Your tongue is slathering her slit, and she's quiet.
"Wait, Heejin, is… everything okay?"
"Yeah. It's fine."
"What is it? Is my tongue rough or something?"
She looks at you. "Oh, no, no, not at all! No, it's, um, your technique's, uh, kinda lacking."
"Ah. Yeah, see."
"Here, I'll show you."
Heejin sits up and pushes you down. She's straddling your face.
"First," she says, "spread my… my lips. Like this."
She spreads her labia.
"Then, you wanna, kinda, stick your tongue inside, like, deep."
Heejin uses her finger to spread herself wider. You stick your tongue inside her hole.
"Now… use your thumb to, like, rub my clit, and move your tongue around. Like, you're, um, writing, something, with your tongue, I guess. Inside me. Like, a, um, circle. Shit, I dunno."
You rub her clit. Heejin moans. You lick circles inside her hole.
"And, uh, yeah, that's… about it. Oh, and, move your, your finger and thumb. Not at the same time. And I'll grab your hair and move you around and I guess just tell you what to do. And then you can figure it out after that, right?"
"Yeah. Got it."
Heejin lies back down. You spread her lips. You stick your tongue inside her hole. You rub her clit. You lick circles inside her hole.
"A little lower. And, and, like, lick, not circles, but, a, like, a line. But not a straight line. An, um, I dunno, a diagonal one. But not a diagonal one. A, uh, a curve, but not a curve. Um."
You lick lower. You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You lick a curve, but not a curve.
"There. Yeah. That's… good. Keep going."
You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You lick a curve, but not a curve. Heejin moans. Your tongue is still licking, and she moans, and her hand is on top of your head.
"Use your, your thumb, and, and, like, stick your index finger inside. Like, curl your finger and, and, find my, my, um, g-spot."
You rub her clit. You stick your index finger inside. You curl your finger. Heejin moans. Your tongue is licking diagonally, but not a diagonal. Your index finger is curling, searching, and you find her g-spot, a soft patch inside her walls. Your tongue is licking curves, but not a curve. Heejin moans again.
"Add… another finger."
You stick your middle finger inside.
"Curve both, both your, your fingers. Both fingers."
You curl both your fingers.
"And, and, like, twist. But not twist. Rotate. But not rotate. Uh, fuck, um, shit, I dunno, uh, fuck, whatever, just, um, fuck, uh, wait."
You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You curl both fingers. You rotate, but not rotate. While you're going through advanced mathematics under a tutor under a slightly lust-drunk stupor, you're starting to understand both sides more. On the one hand, your mouth is indeed going dry, and your jaw is starting to hurt. On the other hand, you're drooling. Whatever taste Heejin's pussy has is starting to get really addicting, enough for your cock to stay hard the entire time, enough for you to ignore the fatigue.
"Add… another finger."
You stick your ring finger inside, which immediately earns a moan from Heejin. Your tongue is licking curves, but not a curve. Your fingers are curled, rotated, twisted, whatever. Heejin moans again. You're rubbing her clit.
"Fuck, more, more. Rub my, my, rub my clit faster. Fuck, lick faster."
You speed up. You curl your fingers. You rotate them. You twist them. Heejin moans again. Her hand is tight on top of your head. Her body is trembling. You move your free hand and press it onto her stomach to keep her still. Your three fingers are thrusting in and out of Heejin's pussy, and her hips are buckling. Her walls are clenching. She moans, a final time.
Heejin lets go. You lick. Your fingers are thrusting. Your thumb is rubbing her clit. Heejin shudders. More gushes of cum coat your tongue and fingers. She's going to drown you. You understand how she made that mess. Your three fingers are pistoning in and out of Heejin's pussy as her climax subsides. More gushes. More. Less. Some.
"Wait," she says. "Hold… hold it. My spot."
You stop rotating, twisting, and whatever-ing. Her walls are fluttering. Your three fingers are still. Her girl cum is trickling out of her hole.
You take your face off Heejin's crotch.
"Holy… fucking shit," she says.
"Wild ride?"
"That was… amazing."
You flex your fingers. "Yeah. Didn't know you could squirt like that."
"Neither did… I."
Heejin props herself up. You stick your three cum-soaked fingers in her mouth. She sucks. She moans. You stick them deeper down her throat, and her lips are wrapping. Her eyes are closing.
"Thanks for… teaching me," you say.
Pop. "Mmm. Of course."
Your three fingers return to her pussy. You pump, and her girl cum is slicking your fingers. Heejin lies back down. Your three fingers are pistoning again. She moans.
"Wait, wait, sausage, sausage!"
You stop. "Shit, sorry."
"It's fine, it's fine. Just, sensitive."
"Got it."
Heejin giggles. "Sorry. Sometimes… I squirt a lot. Um. Overstimulated."
"Well, at least you know how I feel."
"Wait, was that a sausage moment, because I feel so bad and—"
You interrupt Heejin with a kiss. "No, it's fine. In fact, it was really fucking hot, and besides, I already told you about how much I can cum. Oh yeah, by the way—" another kiss, because there is no such thing as too many with Heejin "—I kinda wanna see the toys you were talking about."
"Really?"
"Yeah. If that's… cool."
She smiles. "Sure. Lemme, lemme clean up first."
"Alright."
Heejin cleans her bed with tissues, and you help her wipe up. Then, you head to her closet. She opens it, and… holy shit. There's an assortment of vibrators and dildos and g-spot stimulators and other contraptions and tools, almost an entire shelf dedicated to sex toys.
"This is… incredible," you say.
"Hey, um, by the way, could you, um, close your eyes?" she asks. "I, um, dunno, it'd… feel less embarrassing."
"Sure."
You close your eyes.
"And, like, turn around."
You turn around.
"Okay, okay, so, um, these ones"—you hear plastic tapping against plastic—"are just the vibrators. These ones"—plastic tapping again—"are the dildos. And then… um, these ones are for g-spots, and, and then there's more for anal, and then… um, I dunno, basically, um, the rest is stuff I've gotten on impulse because it looked fun."
You snort. "Impulse, huh?"
"Shut up. Um… open your eyes."
You turn back around. Heejin's holding a Hitachi wand.
"Okay, so, like, this, this is probably my favorite. Wand. Magic wand. And then"—she puts it back and holds a simple, white vibrator—"this is the, um, the next one." She puts it back and holds a curved, purple toy—"then this. Um… this is, this is the biggest"—she puts it back and holds a monster of a dildo—"um, and then, this is the smallest." She points to a cute, pink bullet vibe.
So many questions flood your mind, but the only thing you can blurt out is, "Impulse purchases, huh?"
Heejin shoves you. "Shut up! Um… and then, this"—black anal beads—"and, um, this"—clear, pink butt plug—"are for anal. Obviously. And then, um, basically, I've, um, experimented. A lot."
"Experimented, huh?"
She shoves you again. "Stop… saying huh!"
You wrap Heejin in a hug. "I'll say huh as much as I want."
"Whatever. Um… anything you wanna… try?"
You gulp. "C-could I watch you use them?"
Heejin steps away. "Wait, really?"
"Yeah. I mean, if you're comfortable. Like, right now. Or something."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Really."
Heejin sighs. "You… absolute pervert."
"You're the one with"—you point to her shelf—"all that."
"Fine, fine. Um, sure. Which… do you wanna see me use?"
You gulp again. "So, um. You said you practiced sucking dick on one of them right? Imagined it was me?"
She rubs her thighs together. "Y-yeah."
"Which… was it?"
Heejin reaches for one. She holds a flesh-colored dildo, about the length and girth of your own cock.
"This one," she says.
"Then, that one, please."
She nods. "Okay… sit on the bed. Get comfy."
Heejin puts the dildo on her bed and closes the closet door. She undresses completely, tossing her clothes to the side. Your cock is tenting. She returns, picks the dildo, and then she lies on her bed next to you.
"So… you, you just wanna watch me use this? Suck on it and stuff?"
You nod. "Yeah. Please."
Heejin bends her legs and spreads her thighs. Your cock twitches. Her free hand rubs her slit. She's spreading her lips.
"Shit, Heejin, you're so hot."
"Thanks… pervert."
She sticks the dildo inside her hole, and you love watching how her pussy stretches for it. Especially knowing your cock will be doing the same soon. That image makes you harder, enough for you to pull down your pants and start jerking.
"Heejin, would, would you… talk? Your voice is so pretty."
Heejin blushes. "Thank you. What do you want me to say?"
"Just, like, anything. Tell me… what you're imagining. What you're feeling.. Your fantasies."
Heejin gulps. "Um, o-okay."
Her free hand is rubbing circles around her clit. The dildo is slowly pumping in and out of her hole.
"Sometimes, um," she starts, "sometimes I imagine… it's you. Inside me. Your cock. And, um, usually, we're, we're doing missionary, and, um, your hands are on my tits. Pinching my nipples. Wait, come here. Pinch my nipples."
You follow her command, sitting closer to her so you can grab a nipple with one hand while your other jerks faster. Heejin moans. You jerk faster.
"Oh, god, mmm. If I could keep your gorgeous fucking dick in my mouth all day I would. I'd suck it every second. God, I'd, I'd wake up to it. I'd go to sleep sucking on it. Hnnh. Your hands… are making me feel really good. Or we could cuddle and watch a movie, and the whole time you'd be... fuck, you'd be slowly sliding your cock in and out of my asshole. Mmnh. God, and, maybe we'd have friends over, and you'd fuck me from behind, and no one would know. Shit, especially when we're at Yerim's, you could take me to her really nice bathroom and rail me in her really nice shower. Mmm."
The dildo speeds up, and her clit rubbing is speeding up. Your jerking is speeding up too.
"Or we'd go out to eat, and, fuck, you'd finger me under the table, and then, and then you'd order dessert, and instead of eating the real thing, you'd feed me your cock, and I'd cream myself. God, shit, your hands. Mmfh. Or, or, sometimes I imagine, we're on the couch, and Jungeun and Jinsol and Haseul are hanging out, and they're just chatting away, and I'm sucking your dick, or you're fingering me, or I'm warming your cock in my pussy, and no one would know. Shit. Or they do know, and they pretend like I'm not even there on my knees sucking you off. Fuck."
You're about to cum. "Shit, Heejin, keep going, I'm so, so, so, so close."
"Nngh. And I'd even—wait, d-don't waste that cum yet." She takes the dildo out and moves closer to you. "Feed me. Put it in my mouth."
You do. Heejin's jerking the rest of your shaft, and your tip is in her lips, and she's pumping, and her spit is slathering. You groan, and she moans, and a shot fires into her throat. Her jerking doesn't stop. Another shot, and your mind is fading. Another.
Pop. She's gasping for air, trying not to spill the load as she speaks. "Ahh, waih, feed me, hah, some cum, wifh your hand."
You take your cock out of her mouth, masturbating some cum onto your palm. Once your climax eventually subsides, you offer your hand to Heejin, and she makes eye contact as she slurps up your seed and licks every joint of your fingers.
After she has every drop she can get in her mouth, she looks up, gargles, and then gulps. "Thank you for the meal."
You sigh. "Jesus, you're crazy."
"Only for you."
You kiss. "I'm honored."
"Um, by the way, can I finish?"
"Yeah, of course."
Heejin lies back down and picks the dildo. Her free hand is rubbing her clit again, and the dildo is pumping in and out of her hole.
"Hold on," you say. "Could I… use the wand on you?"
She stops. "Really?"
"Yeah. Unless it's sausage time."
Heejin giggles. "No, no, it's fine, just, um, lemme… get comfy again." She gets on all fours, and you move to a squat, holding the wand in one hand and the dildo in the other. "And, um, don't turn it on the highest setting. Not yet."
"Got it."
You stick the dildo inside Heejin's pussy and move the wand to her clit. You turn the wand on, and the sound of buzzing fills her room, followed by a moan from Heejin.
"Tell me more fantasies," you say.
She tries her best to give you everything she's thinking about, from bending her over the kitchen counter to tying her up and edging her, from fucking her mouth blindfolded to having a whole day where you fuck her whenever you want, free-use style. You're glad that she trusts you enough to share her kinks. You're looking forward to experiencing them someday.
Her dirty talking devolves into incomprehensible moans, and her doggystyle position is faltering, her face in the mattress. You stick the dildo deeper, and you turn the wand to a higher setting. She screams.
"Shit, sausage, sausage!"
You immediately stop everything. Heejin's trembling.
"Oh, god," she says.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Fine. Just, too much."
"Fuck, I'm so sorry."
"No, no, it's fine, just, sensitive. But you owe me."
"What do you mean?"
"Turn the wand off and give me the dildo. I'm going to cum with your cock in my mouth because that's where it belongs."
You comply, handing her the dildo and turning the wand off. Then, Heejin lies back down on the bed. You're uncertain about where to go, until she grabs your ass, pulling you to mount on top of her chest.
"There we go."
You look back and see Heejin starting to dildo-fuck herself again, and before you can look at Heejin's face again, she's already captured your cockhead in her lips.
"Oh, fuck," you say.
She moans. You jerk off the rest of your shaft, and she's moaning hungrily around you. Heejin's free hand massages your balls, and she pistons the dildo at a hearty pace, a loud, sloppy pace. As if she were imitating what your cock would sound like, if it were pounding her hole. Having painted a million pictures in your mind, and having heard her talk about so many fantasies, your mind can't help but fill in the blanks. The biggest blank is her throat.
"Heejin," you say.
Pop. "Mmm. Yeah?"
"Could I… choke you with my cock?"
She giggles. "Go for it, stud. Shoot it straight down. I don't care. It'll make me cum harder. I wanna feel my throat bruise."
You gulp. "A-are you sure?"
"Mmm. Totally. I'm gonna keep fucking myself and sucking you off and if I tap three times on you, then it's sausage time, and you stop choking me. Deal?"
"Deal."
Heejin takes your cockhead back in her mouth and moans. Her free hand goes back to your balls, and you place both your hands on the sides of her head. Slowly, carefully, you force her lips to travel past your tip, and to reach halfway down your shaft. Her cheeks are concave and your palms can feel her slobbering. Once she reaches your base, her eyes are watering. She looks up at you, her dildo fucking faster, her lips tight. You pull on Heejin's hair to move her head up. She moans. Her whole body is trembling again. You slam her head back down.
"Heejin, I'm"—she moans—"about to"—she gags, a broken vibration around your cock, and she moans—"cum!"
Her gagging, however, only urges you more to fuck her throat with your cock. Heejin gags again, and her throat walls are clenching, and a whole bunch of spit comes out, drenching your balls. The last thing you feel before your mind fades is her final whine, lost to the whole of her universe. Your spasms return, your hips shake, and this time, you see her whole body tense up—finally you and Heejin cum together, with her dildo ramming her hole and your cock ramming her throat. She's squealing and squeaking while taking your cock down to her base again, her gagging more persistent. After all her fantasies, the real thing is so much hotter than your imagination, and your brain starts painting new pictures on instinct.
Pop.
"Holy. Fucking. Shit," she says.
Your cock twitches out spurts of your seed, coating her face. Her dildo has disappeared from her pussy.
"I'm, I'm sorry, about, um, being… a bit too rough," you say.
"Are you fucking stupid?" she asks. "Do you have, do you have any idea how fucking hard I came? God, and the cum you're firing in my throat, thank you, thank you, thank you. Your cum is what gives life purpose."
You grin. "I'm glad you think that way. My cum was only alive because of your pretty little mouth, though."
Heejin licks up every streak and spurt.
You lie back down on her bed next to her. "Hey, uh, you… still owe me though."
"True," she says. "What do you want? Another oral service tomorrow?"
"Can't tomorrow. It's already one in the morning."
"Ah, fuck. Morning."
"It's fine." Your voice is meek. "Let's not do anything. For a while."
"What?"
"This is fun. And I'm sure we could come up with a million ways to jerk each other off with our hands and mouths and words. But, you were thinking it too, right? When you had that, that dildo inside of you. Fucking you. I mean, I don't, I really don't wanna pressure you, but I thought it'd be fun. You know. If we just held off of anything, sex, cumming, masturbating, all of that, and we just… wait. How about until your birthday?"
"What?! That's like, twenty days away."
"Exactly, once in a while we could do other stuff. Wouldn't it be fun to just get edged every day until then, waiting, anticipating, and when we finally do fuck, it'll be the best sex of our lives, the perfect present. I mean, you got yourself off plenty of times already. I bet you could go without a nut for a while."
"Oh, no. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
"And vice versa, I guess."
Heejin grumbles. "Fuck. Fine. Deal. But no matter how much I tempt you, no matter how much you tempt me, we're not going to cum. We're gonna edge each other. No matter how hard I suck. No matter how hard you thrust."
"Deal."
You shake hands.
"Um, by the way," she says.
"What?"
"You, um, you're a pervert."
You sigh. "I know."
"But you're, um, you're a pretty nice guy. And smart. And hot. Okay, that's enough for your ego, goddammit."
"Keep going, you're gonna make me cum."
Heejin grins. "Oh, that's all it'll take, huh?"
You kiss.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You wake up on Saturday morning, having stayed the night at Heejin's place. The two of you have a breakfast of leftover ramyun, and you say goodbye at the door.
"Wait," she says. "Hold on. I forgot something."
You turn around. "What?"
Heejin kisses you. "Bye."
You return the kiss. "Bye."
You go home, and on Sunday, you wake up to a text from Heejin.
> morning. :)
You smile.
> Good morning.
You send her a picture of your cock, already hard in the morning. She sends a photo of her own pussy, spread open with her fingers. It's scintillating, dewy. Your cock twitches.
> morning wood?
> Yep.
> you know how bad i wanna suck that dick right now
> Yeah. I'm thinking about fucking your throat.
> godddddddd i love it when you say that shit
> Do you think you're gonna nut today?
> probably not. if i can't even last a weekend without cumming, i srsly need to reexamine my life
> lol. true. well, good luck.
> you too
You send a photo of your cock, with a drop of cum at your tip. It only took a token effort of stimulation to get a bead of pre-cum.
> wait were you fapping just now
> Yeah. Just a bit
> godddddd youre so bad
> Don't worry. I don't plan on cumming until it's inside you on your birthday :)
> fuck you
> I thought we were gonna save that for your birthday too :(
> shut up
You smile. 
> I miss you.
> me too
> Next week. We can meet up. See how we're feeling about this whole thing. Maybe get dinner or something.
> like a date?
> Well, no dating. Obviously. Ground rules and all.
> "k fine. sounds good
> See you then <3
> yeah yeah whatever <3
You laugh. This is going to be fun.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Happy birthday to the best girl! Once again, this falls under my time-honored tradition of incomplete-but-complete-enough stories to post for some deadline, so I'm not bothering with crossposting (okay fine I am just too lazy).
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anantaru · 1 year ago
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DAY 5 — APHRODISIACS
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — tighnari, kazuha
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, aphrodisiacs, dry humping, cowgirl, a little sweaty (side effect of the drug) & lots of cum, feral feral feral, both parties are consenting
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𖧡 — TIGHNARI
before you can blink, tighnari presses a metal, at a size of a toothpick, with a drop of crystalline liquid against your tongue, the fluid thawing into your flesh before you're closing your mouth, watching how he's planting the exact same dose on the inside of his lips— moreover, in just a matter of time the bizarre solution began to express certain signs on the state of your body and overall mental capacity when you're touching all over each other, lightheaded tearing and feeling each other up, as if detained by a beclouded response.
the wet sounds of your lips crushing on top of his, rounding your tongue inside his mouth in an almost animalistic rush while your nails were desperate to rake over tighnari's scalp, digits brushing over his sensitive ears to pull him close, the kissing turning heavy when he settles one of his hands on your back, squeezing you against his scorching hot, reactive body with his growing erection nestled in between, in dire need to expose of those tight, uncomfortable pants.
it feels like torture was slowly being forced on to the both of your bodies— despite it being tighnari himself assuring you about the strange substance he was researching on, that you will experience a sense of unwavering calmness, hand in hand with a collected perception by an additional seventy percent.
the side effects would barely show themselves, he promised before muttering something under his breath, but now— the obscene sounds of sloppy kissing slowly drilled and conquered your mind, by now being pressed tightly against the bed, your pussy soaked through the flimsy material of your panting and clenching in longing for his cock to finally bore inside.
tighnari humps his aching cock into your clothed pussy, adding and greatly fueling the frustration and helplessness, if neither of you don't turns out mad because of the mixure taking your mind hostage, you would certainly go mad from lust.
whilst, particularly how tighnari was placing his length just the right way on your core— with towering on top, adjusting his hips and grinding in between your folds until all the way up to your clit, he rubs you there too, thrusting fast with no remorse as to how you're being ruined by not only the drug rampaging inside your blood, but him appearing feral alike.
"fuck—" tighnari moans, "i feel.. hot." and almost winces, cupping the side of one of your thighs to pull you close, his disheveled clothes glued on his body due to the excess sweat the drug was producing, his lips shortly after trailing down against your ear to your neck which also had a faint film of perspiration on top, causing the helplessly rocking of his hips pressed against your wet pussy to increase, hitting extremely near to an orgasm without even taking your clothes off.
"baby.. please." you say, "tighnari— i feel so good.." you repeat and say it loud enough that it would suffocate you— and everything feels heavy around your muscles, your drenched clothes webbed on your skin, the humidity of the room burdening a hefty amount that it limits your capability to breathe as tighnari hides in the nook of your neck, your head falling back before he ends up to shifts his entire weight on top of your body.
you're distorted with pleasure, welcoming the blows of his hips rutting into your clothed pussy as your panties messily crumble against your folds— dried up with your arousal and a surplus of sweat you have to tell tighnari about adding on to the possible side effects.
although in spite of that, neither of you cared about that presently, tighnari was more so occupied on crumbling his eyes down to your wet, fluttering hole and your underwear soaked, presenting the outline of a perfect cunt to his hankering gaze.
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𖧡 — KAZUHA
kazuha grins widely at you, drunken on a literal winning smile when you swallow down the strange pill he flaunted in front of your very curious, enchanting eyes— to take it, gulp it down and let it work it's so called “magic”, as he tends to say, whereas his hands were there to take you, listlessly going around the plush of your ass while he's aiding you in straddling his lap.
interestingly enough, it has merely been a good ten minutes before your reactive senses sharpened and you perceive everything to a greater degree now— the aphrodisiac expanding in your system, littering around your body to work when you flinch at the uncommon sensation, then whine against kazuha’s lips, melting your tongues in a heated exchange. his traces and rubs on you felt like fire against your hypersensitive flesh, but, archons, how come being on fire suddenly feels so unexpectedly good?
with deft movements, kazuha clumsily unbuttons his pants and tugs them down his legs so they'd hang uselessly around his knees, opening the view to his cock throbbing in between your thighs— he's swollen and his girth looks in pain, and you're taking it in your hand before placing your cunt right on top, small, needy ruts sending shivers down the entirety of your spine.
his mouth finds yours the second your hips roll into his ache, hungrily pressing your core on him yet all you really longed for was for him to sink his cock inside you, right now, please.
neither of you was intending to wait any longer, especially with the pent up frustration growing and being amplified by a ten fold. you quickly push your panties aside, your boyfriend watching you intently whilst drinking in the moans you'd let out against his lips from his cock fusing on your soaked cunt, his mouth attaching around your every curve on your face as you hear him sigh heavily against your ear.
whilst kazuha was left with no choice, thinking that if he wasn't about to slide his cock inside your warm, wet cunt, he would end up exploding from the painful bristling on his groin, together with your hearts racing and synchronizing, chests pressed against one another, his free hand helping you to take him inside as you're sinking down on his inches, swallowing him whole, the movements slow yet powerful enough to have you whine through a clenched jaw, responding to the slow, deep kisses of his swelled tip nudging against your fuzzy patches with gentle ruts of his cock, jointly with his other hand swiping over your hips, your body jolting at the contact of his nails digging into the plush of your ass.
and when it's all said and done, the drug had sent you into a frenzy, the small dose of the aphrodisiac long since devouring you.
by contrast, kazuha was insatiable, the sweet moans from your lips growing a warm, flushed shade on his face as his cock drags against the spongey spot within your walls, hips rolling, pressing inside the flesh fast and your cunt giving his length good squeezes that he's sighing your name in a breathy heave. the stickiness between your legs and across kazuha's lower stomach making your toes curl in both embarrassment and the need to continue.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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shinjisdone · 1 year ago
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When You Have An Secret Admirer - And Doubt Them
A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - but you doubt it's true. Perhaps you don't believe it yourself or are trying to push the obvious infatution under the rug...whatever your reason may be, your dear classmates do not believe you.
Been feeling sick so here's a spin-off of the spin-off of your classmates replies when you say:
"I don't think anyone would like me like that..."
Raising his brow, he scoffed. "Ya don't get it. Listen, the only reason someone would go out of this daaaarn big way is either 'cuz they're a total idiot dork or have a massive big crush on you. And lucky you! For you both option are the case!" Sweat rolled down his jaw as he winked. -Ace
"Uhm," His mouth became dry and his eyes avoided yours. "I-I don't think - I mean, w-why wouldn't they? Like, the roses and chocalates...the notes and...mirror, I guess...that's all romantic. Y-You're a great person and...I'm sure that admirer thinks so, too." He wishes to say more but his tongue was tied. -Deuce
"Whuat? Of course they do! Have you seen the talks and Hearts on MagiCam? Some totally envy you!" His hand lowers to his pocket but decided against fishing out his phone. Instead, he threw his arm around your shoulder. "C'mon, juniour! Have a bit more confidence in yourself! Y'know, if it wasn't for your admirer, I would have long sent you these lovey-dovey stuff. Maybe in a different way though, haha!" -Cater
A sheepish chuckle escaped him. "Oh, come on. Don't be like that. It's clear as that day that someone fancies you and there's nothing wrong with that. You get your senior's allowance to indulge in the attention!" Laughing, he hoped he could ease the tension through his lies. -Trey
He cleared his throat. Something like this wasn't his forte. "I...am not an expert in...love and courting - Well, what I mean is that anyone can see that you are very much admired by someone. You are...a very great person so of course you'd be liked. When someone goes out of their way to break several rules like that, their affection must be greater than the Queen's for her little King." -Riddle
Clicking his tongue, he rolled over to his side. "Why are you making a fuss about that? You're gonna break your little head over this, herbivore. Why don't you stop this belittling and confront that little admirer yourself and find out? If you have the guts to go into the lion's den, then you can go and ask a coward that, too." -Leona
"Huh," For a moment, he avoided your gaze and the corner of his lips twitched. "Well, I dunno. Why shouldn't anyone? If no one liked yer guts, then they would have looooong ripped you off or something - good thing I was there all the time but nothin' happened even when I wasn't there - what I mean is, no, you are likable, dummy. Shihishi..." He cackled nervously. -Ruggie
"I wouldn't know anything about that." Quickly clearing his throat, he tried to hide his flushed face, "As in...I don't know if I would agree with you. Someone wouldn't just do this for fun...I don't know anyone, in and outside of NRC, who would do this for fun, so..." He scratched his neck and hoped you'd catch his intentions. -Jack
"Wha," Sheepish laughter rang, "Oh, why...of course you'd be! Why wouldn't you be...why wouldn't they..." His hands reached for the papers on his desk as he failed to sort them, "If there are any doubts...Monstro Longue can also provide solutions for that. But only for doubts...after all, you are l-likable..." -Azul
"Nonsense. I think you are quite charming. Or, could it be that you are playing the humble one? Trying to fool the rest while you are indulging in all the love your admirer provides?" A smarmy giggle. "I jest. But even so, that would make you even cuter." -Jade
Cackling rung. "Huuuh? Actually, yeah, you're right!" He giggled and squeezed in closer into your personal space. "You are such a lost cause, Shrimpy...ya should stick with peeps like me and Jade! Rather just with me, yeah? That admirer-schmirer has been gettin' on my nerves recently and I barely got any time to squeeze you...give up on this landpeople mambo-jambo and stick with me~. -Floyd
At first he blinked in confusion yet his shining grin came a second after. "No way. You're so great! And so interesting and fun and cute!" He almost seemed like his usual self until he noticed who you two were talking about. At that, his grin vanished. "Oh...well, if I can see that, then the admirer totally too! Maybe even more than me since they shower you in so many gifts..." -Kalim
"Well, obviously not since you got a good old secret admirer like from a rom-com." His smile crooked, he hoped you'd at least chuckle but he quickly corrected himself. Best if he doesn't continue to be this nonchalant. "I'm just kidding...though not about you likable. Give yourself more credit...you deserve it." -Jamil
"Huh? What's with that...self-pityin' party - I mean, as in, that ain't true. Yer a...fine and dandy person, I mean - why wouldn'tcha be??? That kinda talk is only gonna bring you down and yer better than that. Far, far, better. Hell, you got a flyin' mirror-" -Epel
Laughter echoed and you weren't sure if it was mocking at first. "Cher Trickster, could it be that these grande professions of love are not enough?! How can you still not see that you are the apple of someone's eye? Not even I could top that! Tell me, my dear, shall I be your second admirer to prove to you how lovely you are?" -Rook
He raised a brow. "Bring me my phone for a second. Should we go over the amount of attention I get from millions of people and compare them to the over-the-top admiration of your one and only admirer? They went out of the way to insult me to compliment you. You are someone's diamond, potato." -Vil
For a moment you wondered if he even heard you. Staying still as a candle, he tried his best to avoid your gaze while his face was flushed red. "...W-W-W-W-Wha-What do you ask m-me that...??? I-I mean, if there is someone unlikable here it would be m-me...y-y'know...?" He hoped you get what he means. -Idia
"According to data I collected requested by big bro - I mean, happened to collect, there is a 0000000.01% chance that you are unbelievable, unequally unlikable." -Ortho
"You think so?" He scratched his chin, "That kind of mindset is not going to get you far. In fact, I believe you do not understand how much comfort you bring by your mere presence. If you doubt it, I can always remind you of it." -Malleus
Laughing, he slapped his knee. "Seriously? You get the exact cookie-cutter version of a highschool secret admirer sweetheart! I read those in old-school manga! And you still doubt that?" He sighs, "Trust me, be a bit more confident. Amazing things can happen if you let them." -Lilia
"Hm? But...you are being admired. By afar, by someone who truly seems to treasure you. You are like a treasure if you see it that way...ah, nevermind me. Please, believe in yourself more. I do." -Silver
"Ugh, really now?! IF I can see it, then you should see it too! It's like you are covering your own eyes! You! Are! An! Object! Of! Affectioooooonnnn!!!" -Sebek
holy shit im never doing something like this in one post again hhuuuuuaaaaaaahh
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