#hands in the second pic CHOKE ME PLS

[lovegalor333]

i never moved on

[almostempty]

Look at this photograph

(joel miller x f!reader)

The second installment of Never made it as a wise man

WC: 3.5k | Part 1 | Part 3| Other fics | Rating: 18+ 

Summary: you open Joel’s dick pic and (after examination) decide to give him a call

Note: it’s me ya boi (gn), back with more divorceddadrockdilf!joel bc you guys get me. i know y’all want them to fuck, and I want them to fuck too. unfortunately, this flowed through me first, and I am merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. 

so, until they get their freak nasty on, please enjoy this as a chapter 1.5, with gratuitous dick pic art critique and crankin’ it over the phone <3 don’t worry, he’s still a lil pathetic. mistakes and bad jokes are all on me. 

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where ch.1 ended, dick pic descriptions, alternating pov, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation, it’s all just phone sex, but edge yourself through it with fond memories of ch. 1, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc

inspo playlist i found on spotify: Divorced Dad Rock: BANGERZ

thanks: to @hellishjoel for hosting the #hotdilfsummerchallenge and to everyone who enjoyed part 1 

@gothcsz i promise fuckboy!joel is cookin, he’s just in the crockpot rn. he’s gotta tenderize like a white lady’s pinterest recipe for pulled pork. 

* i tried to tag everyone who wanted more, but if you don’t wanna be here i’ll remove it <3 or if i missed you and you want to be tagged next time pls let me know

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you blurt out after opening the message from Joel. The vulgar dick pic sends a prickly worm of arousal slithering down your spine. 

Without thinking, you tilt the phone down toward your chest, and your eyes shoot up like you’ve got to make sure nobody saw your naughty message. Warmth blooms on your cheeks as the flash of embarrassment starts to dissolve. You don’t need to hide. 

You’re in your bed, in your apartment, wearing Joel’s grubby Creed t-shirt. The one that smells like Degree Sport and a Jiffy Lube break room. You're free to look at all the dick pics your heart desires. And that’s what you’re going to do. 

The wiggle of bashful energy turns into a squirm as you shift your hips, seeking a comfy position in bed. The t-shirt bunches up under your back and you wonder if the unique Joel scent of it will linger on your pillow beneath your shoulders. You knew pilfering the shirt on the way out the door was a good move, and now you get to enjoy your trophy. It makes it feel like the broad-as-a-barn-door DILF himself was still close enough to touch you. 

It gives you another bright shudder when you think about the noises he made when he came in your hand earlier. The disappointed grunts of “fuck, wait” and how he tried to choke down the throaty groan that came from deep in his chest. Fuck. The perverted gremlins that have a permanent residence in your mind have been roused by the digital dick, and now they chitter and squawk at you. More! More! More!  

You reopen the message, and seeing it gives you another rush. You save the picture to your phone storage. For your personal collection. Mine now, big boy. Your chin starts to dip towards your chest. It’s like you’re giving your phone the Kubrick stare with the ghost of a smirk. You’re free to take your time with this one. And you can be as much of a creep as you want. That makes you sigh softly and sink deeper against your pillows. 

Before this afternoon, it was titillating when Joel would pop up in your mind's eye with his slutty slo-mo scenes. The one where he was bent over your car's engine like Megan Fox in that Transformers movie. Or, that damn happy trail tease with the t-shirt-sweat-rag move. You had just enough imagery to let your dirty thoughts take the wheel. 

And, god, you had a good production team in your mind for projects starring Joel. Adding this will give the team a whole lot more to work with. You can hear them crashing around your conscious like the Animaniacs on the Warner Brothers lot. Horny chaos goblin mode activated. 

Now that you have time to study the image, from the luxury of your microfiber sheets and lamplit bedroom, you let it get pervy. It’s your first real, lingering look–earlier today, you were so busy trying to rile him up in his jeans that you didn’t even pull it out.

It had somehow been even more delicious that way. Having him all needy and unable to stop himself from making a mess in your hand. And not just the noises, but the erratic thrusts into your tight fist? The heat of his pulsing length as he forgot himself? Yeah, you’re gonna remember that one. 

But now? Now you need the visual. If the devil is in the details, you have a new neighbor with horns and a tail. 

You zoom in on everything. Holding your phone closer to your face than necessary, like how do we enhance this bitch? 

And holy shit. 

Drool pools in your mouth and between your legs. You have the knee-jerk reaction to lick your phone. 

You can hear Joel’s voice from earlier today. All husky and grumbly, arguing that you really were a slut for him, like, “You are, aren’t you, though? You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt just to see me?”  He might be touch-starved enough to cream his jeans, but you just know he’s got a nasty mouth in bed, and you’ve got to find out firsthand. Soon. There’s no reason not to, right? 

You pause when a flicker of reasoning tickles the back of your neck. 

You’re back to looking in your review mirror in Joel’s driveway. The last-ditch attempt at checking your ego before you marched to his front door like a Halloween hoe bag version of Betty Crocker. 

You had told yourself you weren’t trying to fuck your (almost) friend’s (sort of) dad. Told yourself there was nothing to pursue, and even if there was, you wouldn’t bite. 

You like Ellie. She’s been (mostly) welcoming to you. You told yourself not to fuck anything up with the only person that’s got a single one of your jokes at your new job. 

You were just bringing some food as a friendly gesture. The fresh visuals to add to your spank bank reel were supposed to be a harmless bonus. Okay, maybe it was a stretch to say you had rolled up to Joel’s driveway with pure intentions. 

And it was an even bigger stretch–when he added that third finger while he finger fucked you on the kitchen counter—wait, no. It was an even bigger stretch when you had told yourself you probably weren’t his type anyway. 

Like, that guy? With the fridge full of Coors Banquet? With those ugly Oakley sunglasses that you know are featured in his only picture on social media that isn’t a car or truck? The guy with all the words to Buckcherry’s “Crazy Bitch” and Puddle of Mudd’s “She Hates Me” memorized? 

Nah, deep down, you knew. You knew there was no way that middle-aged bachelor would turn down any action. But you hadn’t planned on actually making a move, especially not a handjob in the middle of the kitchen. 

That’s on Joel for leaving the door open while trying to rub one out to some bimbo on Brazzers. And for barking at you in that sexy, angry voice. And for teasing you with the bulge in his oil-stained jeans. What were you supposed to do? 

Something must be really rotting in the logic department of your brain. 

Hey! The gremlin voice in your head is still shouting at you. Hey!! Why are we not tasting that dick yet?!! You’re back from your daydream and the excuses you crafted for your behavior, back to laying in your bed with Joel’s dick pic emitting a bright glow in your hand. 

You still do want to lick the screen. 

Fortunately for your immune system, you control your tongue. The critical part of you expels a sigh when you zoom out and take in the picture. 

It’s undoubtedly a nice cock, but the image as a whole? Yikes. 

Why do men have to be so fucking thick? And blunt? Wait, now you’re just describing the slightly blurry boner lighting up your face. Thick as in dense. How can men be so dense? 

No imagination or creativity. No patience. 

You shake your head slightly, scoffing. No wonder you caught him hunched over his cracked phone screen. It was probably the first video loaded on the only site he had saved. 

No sweet, sweet, buildup, setting the mood, or getting cozy. Just whippin’ it out midday or snapping a photo in some ratty sweats. 

Like you’ve never been that touch-starved or down bad?

You ignore that voice to continue your art critique. 

The photo you sent is… sexy. 

Sultry. A flirty tease. It says, “Look who has your shirt? Am I wearing it in bed? Do you think I'm wearing anything else?” 

It’s all implied in the look in your eye and the picture's composition. The tease of the soft curves on the underside of your breasts, asking if he remembers what they felt like. Your hand bunching up the shirt, asking if he remembers the slide of that fist around his cock. If he remembers those fingers, the ones you sucked his sticky spend off of. 

Such delicately crafted imagery. Personalized erotic fine art.  

But men are so crude about it. He sees your tasteful, sexy pic, and immediately, the best his caveman brain can come up with is: send her ur dick! STAT!! Hard cock! Now!!

And, of course, he did. Taken in the dark with the flash on, making ominous shadows in the background. His old charcoal gray sweats are pulled down just enough to expose everything he’s offering. 

The color is slightly blown out from the flash, and it’s a touch blurry where his phone didn’t autofocus quickly enough. His hand looks like it’s straight up, just choking the base of his cock. It’s jarring. 

But that’s really the “man” of it all, right? Nothing subtle or demure about a rock-hard erection jutting towards you, reaching like it could get to you on its own if it just could get a little bit harder. No, there’s nothing coy about the raw thoughts of a man with no blood left in his brain who’s just aching to get inside you, either. 

And fuck if that doesn’t start to override your critical analysis. 

The glare from the flash reflects in the beads of precome rolling down his rosy tip. Mouth wateringly delicious. Your blood rushes to your pussy, filling your tender sex with heat and a deep, needy itch. It makes you dopey and silly. Not cock drunk, but like, dick pic buzzed. 

You know it felt sizeable in your hand earlier, but you aren’t an expert at estimating size from a through-the-pants handjob. You try to recreate your own grip around nothing to estimate the size. 

You giggle to yourself when you realize you're just a woman in her bed staring at her hand, jerking an invisible cock. The horny goblins aren’t amused, though. They’re sick of the daydreaming and distractions. They’re picking fights with the rest of your mind. Throwing rocks and sticks, shrieking and hissing. 

The part of your brain that was griping about how men used to write love letters and respect the art of romance is getting quieter and further from your faculty for caring. You can hear its muffled shouts, and you assure that voice that you won’t give it all up this easily. Then, you completely tune it out. 

The last brain cell with a complaint has you rolling your eyes. You have to be ovulating or something because it’s wholly debased the way this guy is doing it for you. 

He’s just shameless with it. 

You sent him tasteful underboob, and he gives you jumpscare dick-in-the-dark! How is this supposed to escalate? He gave it all up immediately! You send another picture, and he sends you his money shot? What’s he gonna do to give you more? Send you an asshole shot? That one makes you snort. You bet he would do it, too, if you asked. 

Oh, that gives you a better idea. He’s not getting another picture from you at all. You tap on his name and tap the call icon. Of course, this horny motherfucker answers immediately. You aren’t sure it even rang before you’re connected to his porny bedroom voice. 

“What are you wearing, dollface?” 

“I already showed you. Call me dollface again, and I’m hanging up.” 

You can hear his breathing like he’s got the mic on his phone in his mouth. That would typically drive you fucking nuts, but right now, you wanna hear his heavy breath against your ear and feel it hot against your skin.

“All right,” he speaks slowly, distracted. You know why. “You wanna be my slut, instead?” 

Fuck. That has you throbbing between your legs, but he doesn’t get to know that yet. 

“I already told you,” you keep your voice low and soft, “you don’t get to call me a slut for you, not with your behavior.” You strain, trying to hear any other noises, but his mic is probably clogged with dust from his shop or lint from the pocket of his sweats. You can just hear his fucking breathing. 

“What behavior, baby?” he rasps.

“You always jump straight to sending a picture of your cock?” 

You hear the soft snort through the phone. Followed by a deeper, throatier noise. A noise that makes you go cross-eyed and has you running a hand down to your naked lower half to tease yourself. 

“You always steal a man’s clothes after you come on his fingers?” 

You don’t really care what he asked. His voice makes your tongue go numb. Your mind goes blank. You start slowly, coating your own fingers in your slick arousal and drawing circles with a light touch. 

You hum a noncommittal response into the phone. 

“You look good in my shirt, baby, fuck,” he trails off breathlessly. The idea of you in his clothes gets him too close. 

You don’t answer, and he’s too far gone to wait and tease. 

He’s been wound up since you took off this afternoon, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence that you sent him that pic when he had just gotten into bed.

It had taken ages to get his brother out of the shop this afternoon, and then Joel completely fucked up when he mentioned you and the lasagna. He had to begrudgingly host Tommy for dinner when he couldn’t come up with a better excuse than saying, “I’m gonna need you to fuck off so I can deal with the aching balls I’ve got from your surprise visit scaring away the woman I had my fingers knuckle deep inside.”

But when he was finally alone, it was like fate; your text came through right after he flopped onto his bed. His semi-stiff cock had sprung to full mast at the sight of you. The shirt he knew he didn’t fuckin’ lose, your soft curves, and the expression on your face. Like a vixen. Your PG-13 tease would do more for him than any X-rated video. 

Knowing you were thinking about him and that you wanted him to know? That had him throbbing. He already knew from the desire in your eyes earlier today that you wanted more.

He could swear his fingers still hold the lingering flavor of your wet cunt. The visceral memory of you has him on edge. When he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, he has to pause, holding firmly in place. His body screams and aches for release, but he’s determined to keep it in check. He doesn’t want to blow his load until he gets a response from you. 

He fights his urges, trying not to fuck his own fist in a frantic race to come. 

But, fuck, it’s difficult when he can imagine the sounds you’d make as you sank onto his cock for the first time. The face you’d make. Your tight, wet walls hugging him just right. Like, he’s where he’s meant to be. 

And the way you would look, bouncing on top of him. Your tits, your blissed-out face, the way your soft lips would part when you called out his name and cried for more. 

Those lips. 

The way he’d love to see them swollen and slobbering around the base of his cock. Fuck. His hips buck reflexively, and he hisses out a breath through his clenched teeth. When his phone lights up with your name, he answers before it can make a sound. You’re so bold. He likes that. It plasters a saucy grin on his face. 

And now, with your breathy voice crackling through his janky phone speaker, he’s not gonna last long. You've got him losing his composure for the second time in one day. His whole body is rigid. His toes flex and snap unconsciously, and his jaw tenses. He hears your soft moan, and his thoughts are overflowing. He has no filter left. 

“Yeah, baby? You moaning for me?” His hips punch up into his fist, and he gives in, allowing himself firm, severe strokes. “You’ve got me so hard. You moaning for my cock?” 

You are so not gonna answer that one. If the next words out his mouth are, “Yeah, you like that?” you’re gonna block him for that. But it is undeniably hot to hear him already so worked up. You just know he’s gonna be coming all over himself again for you, and that really does make you moan just for him.

Your noises earn you another growly groan from Joel that you’d kill to hear again. The more uninhibited his noises are, the louder you get in response.

“You using your fingers, or you have a toy?” his question is punctuated with a grunt. 

“Mm, just fingers,” you purr, finally granting him an actual response as you roll your hips. Having Joel on the line gives you a heady sense of satisfaction. Wondering what’s going to come out of his filthy mouth next gives you a shiver of anticipation. 

“I know that sweet pussy is just achin’ to be filled again.” Correct. 

“Yes.” 

“S’right, baby, I know.” 

Joel whimpering on the phone for you is absolutely going to get you off. Your hips chase your own fingers. You switch your phone audio to speakerphone and drop it on your pillow so you can use both hands. Pinching at your own nipples as if it were Joel’s big hand under your smuggled shirt. 

“Tell me,” he pants, “who do you need to fill it for you?” 

“You, Joel.” 

“Fuck,” he chokes out, “you wanna ride this cock, huh baby?” 

“Mhmm.” Bingo. Right again. You wish you could feel the pressure of him inside of you, massaging and soothing away the agony. The weight of his body atop of yours, so solid and secure. You can just about feel the pressure of his pelvis grinding into you. The friction from the coarse curls at the base of his cock getting you closer and closer. 

“Know you’d do so good,” he cuts himself off with a low noise, “so damn sexy.” 

“What else would you do with me?” You wanna hear it. For your own fantasy and to know what he’s into.  

“I’d have you taking me down your throat til you’re crying on it for me, fuck,” a primal noise erupts from him.

Face fucking. Of course. You can’t deny that when he says it, your body responds instantaneously. Your pussy floods eagerly at the idea, and your cheeks burn hot from the visual he gives you. You swallow down your moans, and you can imagine the weight of him on your tongue and the strain of trying to swallow around his cock. 

“You wanna come down my throat?” As if that isn’t a fucking siren song that would make him steer a fleet of ships into a cliff? Your salacious words are too much. 

“Shit. Yeah, baby, wanna watch you swallow for me.” You let all your moans and gasps flow freely for him to hear. “I’m so fuckin’ close,” he can’t stop the words from spilling out his mouth, “let me hear it, baby,” he can’t stop his pending bliss either. “Please, baby, I can’t, oh f-fuck,” he cuts himself off with another primitive grunt, and that’s precisely what your cavewoman cunt wanted to hear. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” The horny goblins chant out loud this time. You can envision sweaty, pleading Joel lurching toward a reckless, full-body climax. 

You’re far from grace when the crude sounds he lets out turn you into an uncivilized beast. You hear him gasping, growling, and whining for you. It plunges you into a staggering orgasm. Rolling waves of ecstasy leave you panting and sweating.  

You lie in bed, chest rising and falling beneath the Creed logo. You’re left stunned at the intensity. A dreamy smile spreads across your face, and warm contentment, like honey, pours slowly over your muscles. Relaxing you as your tension softens and you turn to pick your phone back up.

Why was it so wholly consuming just to listen to him? Imagining the mess he made again,

because of you. 

Maybe you’re just made for each other. 

You and Joel. 

Oh, god. You should start listening to Alanis Morissette and Evanescence and trade your car for a 1990s-era Toyota 4runner and a pack of Marlboro Smooths. Really lean into matching his freak and the divorced alt-rock vibes.

You laugh softly into your phone before a deep sigh possesses you, and you nearly fall asleep. You stretch and smile, letting your heavy eyelids rest. 

He’s muttering something at you, catching his breath from the stress of being that fucking horned up for you all evening. And the overexertion of lasting long enough to hear your sweet cries of release. 

“You’re unreal,” his smoky voice rings with awe. “Got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager.”

You snort at the juxtaposition of his tender voice and crude comment before ending the call with a whispered, “Goodnight.” 

It shouldn’t make you smile. 

But he’s somehow such an enticing disaster. A cliche lonely bachelor, a cocksure idiot who knows he’s got a big dick and a generous guy who was willing to fix a stranger's car. 

You shouldn’t be trying to justify it, but you know he had you figured out earlier. 

You may be sated tonight, but you won’t be able to rest.

Not until you get your hands on that DILF – or rather, your pussy on that dick. 

-> Part 3

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[itsthestutterforme]

Should We Try Again? 1/2 (toxic!Rafe Cameron x toxic!reader)

Summary: Rafe tries to accuse you of cheating, and you did some snooping of your own. And when Rafe found out you went through his phone, you were in for it.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, Topper is a really good friend in this fic, reader is black, dark themes (choking, threats, arguing, name calling, overall just toxic behavior)

If any of these making you uncomfortable, pls don’t read. Take care of yourselves.

**

You and Rafe had one of your fights again. The yelling match, screaming in each other’s face kind of fight.

The kind of fight where the police gets called because someone heard glass breaking and shouting.

This particular time, he logged into your Instagram and founded close to 50 DMs from guys commenting on your stories where you posted your OOTDs.

You never opened any of the DMs but there were too many to go unnoticed.

“Do you get off on having other guys want you or something? Huh?” He starts as he abruptly forces his way into the bathroom where you were showering.

“What are you talking about, Rafe?” You snark, ringing out the water from your hair.

“What the hell is this?” He rips the shower curtain open.

“Rafe!” You scold, shutting off the water so none leaks onto the floor. He shoves his phone in your face and repeats, “What the hell is this?”

“They’re DMs, Rafe. Why are you talking to me like I did something wrong?”

“Because you did do something wrong by not blocking these sons of bitches. You like the attention, don’t you? You fucking slut.”

“Don’t you dare call me a slut, asshole. It’s DMs. They don’t mean shit!”

You close the shower curtain so you can resume your shower when he ripped it open again.

“Oh it means something when they’re sending dick pics, Y/N! They want to fuck you!”

“It doesn’t matter if they want me because I’m with you, Rafe. Not them.” You tried to reason.

You were already exhausted from work and you really didn’t need this right now.

“You’ve been sending them nudes, haven’t you?” “Are you fucking serious, Rafe?” “Do I look like I’m joking right now?” He says flatly, his nose flaring angrily.

“No, I haven’t sent anybody nudes. I didn’t even know they sent me dick pics because I don’t open them, Rafe.” He gives you a pointed look and you crossed your arms as a challenge.

It was clear you weren’t going to shower in peace so why not add some fuel to this fire.

“You’re such a hypocrite, you know that? Shame on me for having fifty unopened DMs but everything is okay when you have hundreds of opened DMs?” You antagonize, slowly stepping out of the shower with suds still on your body.

You watch as his face fell for a few seconds before it hardens once again.

“You’ve been going through my phone?” He asks. “Of course I have! Because I know you’ve been in my phone, desperate to find secrets to use against me. So I figure why not dig up some secrets of my own.”

“Y/N,” he warns lowly, taking a step towards you.

“What did you find?” He wrote down a few things about the cross.

Like where he’s already looked and potential places where it might be. But he hid those notes behind a passcode in his journal.

There were also a few texts of Ward asking ‘if it was taken care of’. Garret’s body.

There was no way you could figure out the passcode, right?

“What are you so scared I would find?” You questioned, purposely being vague. There was no point in being specific, if he was going to connect the dots for you.

His anxiety got the best of him and he wraps a hand around your throat, giving it a warning squeeze.

“Stop being cute and tell me what you saw.” He orders.

There wasn’t a constant pressure so you were able to breathe fairly normal. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t change his mind.

“I only went through your social media and some of your messages. Nothing else.” His hand twitched around your throat when you mentioned messages.

“I just wanted to see if you were texting others girls.” You added, wrapping your hands around his wrist.

“What else?” “Nothing else, I swear.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Y/N.” “I’m not lying to you.” He pulls away from your throat and you instinctively touched your collar bone.

His gaze softens when you stepped away from him. He itched to get close to you and apologize for over reacting, but he still wasn’t sure that you didn’t know about the gold and the bodies.

So his hands remained by his sides, tightening every so often.

“What are you protecting?” You asked cautiously. “Don’t pull that shit again.” He states before storming out of the bathroom and slamming the front door of your house.

That was a few days ago, and you haven’t spoke to each other since. The most interaction you’ve had was him viewing your story. That’s it.

You’ve been going straight home after work, not wanting to interact with anyone unless you had to.

But a small part of you wished you’d come home to Rafe waiting for you on your door step or him come to see you during your break.

But he never did. That was enough for you to come to the conclusion that he stopped caring about you.

He was so worried about protecting something or someone that was willing to choke you out to protect it.

You’ve seen him anxious about a few things but nothing set him off like you did that night.

You were watching one of your comfort movies with your fleece blanket wrapped around you, eating some stir fry you ordered on UberEats when your phone chimed.

Topper: hey you doing okay?

Tossing the phone back on the bed, you used the chopsticks to dip a piece of beef into the speciality sauce before eating it.

Your phone chimed again.

Topper: We were friends before you started dating Rafe, remember? I care about you too.

You: I assume Rafe told you everything?

Topper: Just that you had an argument and you’re on a break

You: Well that’s an oversimplification.

Topper: I’m throwing a party tonight. You should come.

You: I’m not exactly in the mood to get hit on by a bunch of drunk dudes.

Topper: Stick by me and you won’t have that problem.

You: You’re right. Instead, you would have a Rafe sized problem.

Topper: I’m not scared of Rafe.

Topper: Just come by for a few. It makes me feel uneasy that you’re by yourself at home all this time.

Topper: Please.

You: Fine, Topper.

Topper: Great! I’m on my way.

**

You hated yourself for how quick your eyes locked in on Rafe as soon as he walked into the party wearing a navy blue shirt and a white hat that matched his white cargo shorts.

He dapped up a few guys that greeted him by the front door and looked straight up to where you were sitting next to Topper.

He found you almost immediately with an expressionless face.

Your heart skipped a beat that he looked for you but that feeling of elation left you as quickly as it came.

He didn’t reach out to you for three days. No call. No text. No apology. He was done and now it was your turn to feel the same.

“You two are like magnets,” Topper says from behind you. “Toxic ones,” he eventually adds with a chuckle.

“I knew you were going to say that,” you teased, playfully hitting his shoulder.

Sadness kicked your gut when two girls approached Rafe, one of them ran her hands over his chest as she went to whisper something in his ear.

“I’m going to grab another drink.” You said when you notice Rafe coming up the stairs with the girls.

“I’ll come with you,” you gave him a look. “What? I meant it when I said stick by me. Let’s go.”

He lets you lead the way and you go down the second set of stairs but you stopped abruptly, peering down at your jewelry.

Everything you were wearing was gifted to you by Rafe, even down to the earrings. You still wore the R golden plate necklace and matching anklet. You had his signet ring on your thumb because that was the only finger it could fit.

“Everything okay, Y/N?” Topper questions. Rafe was watching the entire interaction from the loveseat you and Topper were just sitting on.

You bent down to take off your anklet and moved to take off your earrings next.

“Can you help me take off the necklace?” You asked, pulling off the ring and placing it with the other jewelry.

“Sure,” he agrees, pushing your passion twists out of the way.

You felt his warm hand brushing against the back of your neck when he unclasped the necklace.

He put the necklace in your outstretched hand. You walked back up the few stairs you crossed and approached Rafe whose eyes were still trained on you.

You let out a shaky breath before taking his warm hand into your own and giving him the jewelry. You were beginning to miss his touch.

Guilt flashed across his face, looking down at his hand. You avoided his gaze and left him without another word, rushing down the stairs and Topper followed after you.

“Well that was dramatic,” one of the girls says, rolling her eyes while her friend eyes the gold carat in Rafe’s hand that easily amounted to 75k.

“Can I have the earrings?” She asked and before Rafe could respond, she reached for them anyway.

Rafe caught her hand in a tight grip and she whimpers at the pressure.

“You’re hurting me,” she groans.

“No one told you to touch what’s hers,” he shoves her to the ground. “Hey! You asshole!” Her friend snaps, standing from the couch and helps her friend to her feet.

He doesn’t spare them another glance as he digs in his pocket for a baggie to do a few lines.

“Y/N,” Topper calls, finally catching up with you in the kitchen. “Are you okay?” He asks you, examining your face for anything he could read.

“You should check on him,” you poured yourself a shot in a small solo cup and knocked it back, barely making a face.

“I’m checking up on you,” “It needed to be done, okay. All of it were just reminders of what I don’t have anymore.” You explain, pouring yourself another shot.

“That was very brave for you to do.” “Then why do I feel like shit?” You huffed after taking another shot and he stops you from pouring another one.

“Because the break up is still fresh, Y/N.” He looks at you like you’re going to fall apart before his very eyes.

His soft eyes examines your face for any micro expression that could give away what you’re thinking.

“Look, Top. I know you’re trying to help and all but if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to cry.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“I want to enjoy your party. Your birthday is tomorrow. You shouldn’t be spending it watching me cry.”

“That’s not happening. I’m not leaving you.” He shakes his head and you took his hands into yours, much like you did with Rafe.

But Rafe’s hand were warmer.

“It doesn’t make you a bad friend. I’ll find Sarah.” He studied your face once again and you gave him a soft smile.

“Go,” “Alright,” he says, not bothering to hide his disappointment. “I’ll come find you in like ten minutes.”

“Take your time,” he leaves the kitchen and you let out a deep sigh. You shouldn’t be here.

But you didn’t have the heart to ditch Topper on his birthday rager.

You pressed your palms into the cool, granite countertop and bowed your head to release the tension in your neck.

You hadn’t realize someone was in the kitchen with you until you heard footsteps and someone’s low voice. To your surprise, it was Pope standing on the other side of the counter.

“Sorry, were you saying something?” You asked softly, the shot were slowly starting to get to you.

“I said you are too pretty and insanely smart to be treated like an option.”

That was the nicest thing anyone said to you. You haven’t felt valued in a long time.

“Thanks, Pope. That really means a lot.”

His mouth fell open at your words. “You know who I am?”

“Yes I know who you are. Your family makes the best seafood boils in town.” You explained with a chuckle.

“She knows my name,” he said to himself, which he quickly realized you can hear.

“I should haven’t said that out loud,” he admits and you let out a laugh.

“You’re cute,” he scratches the back of his neck to hide how flustered he way. “Um, are you hiding from Rafe in here?”

“Yes, I am.” You admitted, crossing your arms. “Well if you want some company, my friends are by the bonfire outside. If you want to join. O-only if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything or-“

You interrupted his rant to say, “Sure. I’ll go with you.” You took a solo cup and swung by the keg on the way out, offering some to Pope.

“By the way, what makes you think I’m insanely smart?” “I’m a TA for Mr. Patterson. He still uses your test as a grading key.” He explains after taking a swig of your beer.

“Of course he does. I loved his class.” You admitted with a chuckle. “What is this?”

JJ stands from the chair and motions between you and Pope with his ringed pinky.

“I told her she can hang out with us.” “Hey, JJ.” You greet with a small wave.

“‘Sup, sweetheart. Want a hit?” He offered a blunt to you and you graciously accepted.

He had a grin on his face as he watched you take a hit. He expected you to cough or at least have your eyes water from the potency but much to his surprise, you exhaled the puff of smoke slowly without a fuss.

The mix of the weed and the tequila was throwing your head in a spin. “Never pegged you to be a pothead,” “I’m full of surprises, Maybank.”

A drunk Rafe stumbles outside in search for you when he finds you laughing with Pope and JJ.

JJ noticed your shivering whenever there was a breeze and peeled off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

Rafe wasn’t even aware what was happening until his vision started to blur.

He was crying.

[venusdotcomm]

debauchery. [de·​bauch·​ery]

noun: debauchery; plural noun: debaucheries

excessive indulgence in sensual pleasures.

— content index; masturbation, whimpering, pervy!armin x classmate!reader.

— author's note; first post don't flame me pls! (this is not proofread btw. )

— editors note; i wrote this while high and i'm rereading it now. it's so bad bro LMAO

12:01 am.

"fffuck" armin choked out through gritted teeth, as his hips bucked up into his fist. ecstasy igniting his body in flames while he sloppily chased his release.

what was it? the third — fourth? no, fifth time this week? it was pathetic.

he knew better, and yet every time he thought about you his hand found itself in the same place, fisting his cock till sticky ropes of white coated his laptop screen; a mess he'd have to clean up once he was finished, though he didn't see that being any time soon.

he felt disgusting. but could you really blame him? you were practically asking for it with those thin tops you wore to class. the ones that left so little to the imagination, that it made his mouth dry every time he caught a glimpse of your nipples through that thin, thin fabric.

you did it on purpose, he was sure of it. there's no way you don't know how it effects him. that it makes his cock hard every time he thinks about you, and that the thought of pounding your sweet, sweet pussy keeps him up at night. so much so, that he can't sleep until he jerks it to your insta pics.

it's practically part of his nightly routine. shooting his load to your highlight, always managing to make a bigger mess than he intends to.

he just can't help himself though.

not when your lips look so pretty and plump in your recent post.

the things he'd do if he got you alone...god, it made is cock twitch. precum now beginning to leak from his tip upon swiping his thumb over it. sloppy thrusts getting sloppier by the second until his hips stuttered to a hault. pathetic whimpers leaving his lips as his eyes rolled back, his vision going white out of pure bliss.

"shit..."

he muttered the last of his orgasm washing over him for the fifth time that week.

you were responsible for this debauchery.

[ageofhearingloss]

Talk ⎮ Sam Kiszka x Reader

a/n: i've got hozier on the mind, people! sorry! this idea has been banging around in my head for a while, and since i can only write angst, here y'all go (sammy nation, just email me an invoice for your therapy) ((and look at the lyrics to this song!))

thank you @sacredjake for the pic (credit to owner!) and @gold-mines-melting for editing and being my second set of eyes; it truly takes a village lol

pairing: asshole!sam kiszka x fem reader

summary: you hated sam, you really did, but one fateful night he gets under your skin in more ways than one.

warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, minors DO NOT INTERACT!!! angst, alcohol consumption, stubborn mean asshole sammy (my guilty pleasure), petty y/n (she is by no means blameless LOLLLL) degradation, name calling, hate sex, unprotected p in v (please be safe, folks), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), spanking, choking, pls let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 8.3k

You couldn’t stand his face. The cadence of his voice. The smirk that would splay across his lips when he found another woman to lead on only to inevitably gaslight her and leave her hanging once the night was through. You really couldn’t stand any of it.

And now, posted up on the side of the bar with your friends, you were seeing red watching Sam comb his fingers through some innocent woman’s hair as he leaned in close to her to undoubtedly whisper a slew of nonsense. 

“You know, you really shouldn’t let him get to you as much as he does,” your best friend, Danny, murmured, shaking you from your spiraling thoughts. “He’s way more harmless than he looks.”

You sighed, turning your head back down to the drink in your hands that was now mostly water and melting ice. 

“Did you really have to bring him with you tonight? Like, I know he’s your friend and your brother and all, but-”

Josh clapped you on the back, signifying his return from wherever he scampered off to. 

“That’s right, mama, he’s our brother. Unfortunately, we’ve had to learn how to live with his antics, and you might as well, too.”

The glare you shot Josh had him retreating his hand from your back, slowly backing away with arms raised, signifying his surrender as a chuckling Jake took the spot beside him.

“Yeah, well you might want to give him that pep talk, too, Josh. I know he feels the same way about me as I do him.” Jake’s smile only widened as he brought his glass to his lips, muttering something that wasn’t quite loud enough for your ears to pick up, but earned him a jab in the stomach from his twin.

The blood pulsing through your veins was beginning to turn scalding hot as you turned to take in the scene that was unfolding between Sam and his mystery woman of the night. He now had his arms snaked low around her waist, kissing and nibbling at her ear as she blushed and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. 

“Relax your jaw, honey, you’re gonna give yourself a headache,” Danny cooed from over your shoulder, bringing a reassuring hand to the middle of your back as you continued to stare, imagining lasers darting from your eyes to shoot right through Sam’s head. 

“How can you all tolerate,” you gestured towards Sam, “this? It doesn’t bother you at all? His blatant disrespect for any woman that walks the earth?”

“Of course it bothers us, darling,” Jake started, coming up beside you to watch Sam as well, “but you know Sam. He is never going to quit doing something unless he finds out the hard way for himself, no matter what any of us tell him. One of these days Karma will get him, and I personally can’t wait to watch.” 

He was right, of course, and that was one of the things that drove you craziest about Samuel. Sam was headstrong and stubborn, refusing to listen to any advice given to him and always getting burned in the long run, even if he didn’t realize it at the time. He was arrogant, smug, self-righteous, and always had to have his way, and the thought of him using this poor girl to his own advantage only to gaslight her and leave was about the last thing you could tolerate. 

The worst part of it was that you had always secretly found Sam attractive, and sometimes there would be an all-knowing flash in his eyes when you two were bickering that suggested that perhaps he actually liked getting a rise out of you. The curve of his smirk, the twinkle of his honey-brown eyes, he had to know. And it all pissed you off further. 

You hadn’t realized that you zoned out, still locked on Sam, until his eyes met yours. The woman he had in his arms was now buried in his neck, reciting whatever sweet nothings Sam had definitely spewed to her, and once his gaze found yours, a sinful smile began to creep up on his lips. 

Fuck him. 

Flustered, you turn back to the bar, dropping your head to try to hide your rising blush from Danny and the twins. You had to get out of there. 

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom quick, I’ll be right back,” you explained as you shot off your barstool, knowing that the bathrooms were just past Sam. The company of three hummed in acknowledgement, already deep within a conversation about the studio session they had earlier that day. 

You didn’t know why you felt this way. Sure, you hated the guy, but why was he able to get under your skin so easily? Every action he made ignited a new fire within you, every word that dripped from his plush lips was poison to your ears. And you knew it was childish, but you had to do something to not let that girl be a pawn in another one of Samuel’s selfish chess games. 

You knew it was extremely childish as you approached the couple, slightly hip-checking Sam as you stormed past, causing a gasp to tumble from him as he bumped into the woman before him, causing him to spill his drink down her front. You didn’t stop to apologize even though your right mind was telling you to turn around and grovel on your hands and knees for forgiveness; no, you continued on your path to the ladies restroom, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips. 

~~~~~~

You were leaning over the sink touching up your lipstick when the faint click of the lock sounded from the door. Through the reflection in the mirror, you could see Sam entering the bathroom and turning the lock before he settled his weight up against the wood, arms crossed and a purely sour look on his face. 

“I believe you’re looking for the room next door, Samuel,” you started, placing the cap back on the bullet and straightening before the mirror, tousling your hair slightly. You needed to keep your hands busy; you’ve never seen him this angry and you knew you should be nervous, but you were too busy damning yourself for the heat that flooded to your face and the sudden clenching of your thighs. He was pissed. Good. 

“That was a low blow, even for you.” His voice was gravelly and hoarse, any semblance of playfulness worlds away from the shitty dive bar that you two occupied. You watched Sam as he shoved off the door, stalking towards where you stood only to stop short a few feet behind, his eyes burning into your reflection. “I could’ve sworn there was a hint of jealousy in your eyes when you were admiring me from across the room.”

Your stare darkened and your jaw tensed. 

“You can only be jealous of something you want, Sam, and the last thing I want to be is your conquest for the night.” 

The sides of his mouth twitched in what you could’ve sworn was going to be a smile, but he masked his amusement quickly as he inched closer to you, a lion stalking its prey. 

“You’re really telling me you just happened to trip and fall into me, doll?” The nickname left his lips with a condescending tilt of his head. “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

Having had enough, you dropped his glare, throwing your lipstick in your bag and whirling around to face him, leaning your weight slightly on the countertop behind you. 

“Fine,” you relented, crossing your arms, “but it was never because I was jealous, let me make that fucking clear. It’s because you’re one of the biggest self-righteous assholes that I have ever met and I couldn’t watch you ruin yet another woman's night beyond some club soda spilled on her shirt.”

“I’m pretty sure I was about to make her whole night, Y/n, not ruin it.”

“Really?” You were certain steam was coming out of your ears at this point. “What was going to be your excuse tonight, hm? Telling these people exactly what they want to hear despite your worst intentions,” you dared a step closer to him, “deceiving them, convincing them that you want “the exact same thing” that they do, when all you want is a pretty plaything to warm your dick.” One more step closer. “Making them all trust you before you leave in the middle of the night and block their number, never to be seen again.” You were close enough to him now that you pressed your index finger to his chest as you seethed through clenched teeth, “You make me fucking sick.”

His hand wrapped around your wrist in a vise-like grip, hatred and something that looked like lust dancing in his eyes as he brought his face inches away from yours. “You could only wish that you were the pretty plaything I get to warm my dick with.”

That was the last thing you thought he’d say and it was obvious by how your jaw hung open, causing a low chuckle to rumble out of Sam’s chest. He threw your wrist down as he straightened and turned on his heel, heading for the door. 

With his fingers about to turn the lock, he threw you a glance over his shoulder,

“And you’ll catch flies in your mouth with that dumb ass look on your face.”

~~~~~~

Trying to settle your racing thoughts, you stalked back to where your friends sat at the bar, seemingly far more intoxicated now than when you had left them. You laughed under your breath as you approached them, setting your bag down on the bar and reclaiming your stool. 

“Daniel called Jake “Little Man” so Jake bet Daniel that he can hold his liquor better than him even though he’s shorter,” Josh leaned over to explain, a Cheshire cat grin on his face, “so now they’re in a pissing contest.” 

“Oh no,” you chuckled out, rubbing your hand in small circles on Danny’s back as Jake stuck his tongue out at him, “you know Jake can drink you under the table any day.”

Danny tilted his head to blink up at you, his eyes impossibly droopy. “I had to at least try, honey,” he managed to slur out, that dopey smirk you’ve come to love so much making an appearance.  “And you’ll never, EVER, succeed, you prick!” Jake shouted in his British accent as he slammed his hand down on the sticky counter, earning genuine belly laughs from the entire group and annoyed groans from the other patrons in the bar.

Josh hurriedly hopped off his stool, going to place an arm around his twin's shoulder. “And with that,” he shook Jake a little bit, “I think it’s our time to leave.” He coaxed Jake off of his stool, albeit a tad reluctantly, and closed their tab with the bartender. Josh turned to you, “I’ll get him home, do you think you can manage Daniel?”

“Yeah, do you think you can manage me?” Danny hiccupped, trying to get off his stool and stumbling a bit. “Yes, you big lug,” you wrapped your arm around his torso, making sure his own was secured around your shoulders as you tried to support his weight, “and I’ve dealt with you in far worse situations.”

He giggled as the two of you waved goodbye to the twins, Josh laughing as Jake staggered out of the front door. 

“Alright,” you turned your attention back to Danny, “you ready to go? You’re gonna crash on my couch, I don’t trust you to be out of my sight.” He let out a shocked gasp, his free arm moving to clutch at his chest in faux disbelief before he blurted out, “Sammy.”

Ugh, that’s right. Where the fuck was he?

You groaned as you scanned the bar, seeing Sam tucked away in a booth nearby with a new woman, the previous one shooting daggers from her eyes at him from her spot in a booth not too far away. You still had your arm wrapped around Danny as you barked out, “Sam! We’re leaving!”

Sam looked over at you with disgust, clearly upset that you interrupted him once again before he saw Danny tucked in your grip. 

“Ooooooh Sammy boy, it’s time to go hooooommeee!” Danny yelled in his best sing-song voice, and you watched in awe as Sam’s face shifted from anger and attitude to one of fondness and humor. He smiled at his friend, the admiration in his eyes shining through.

If only he could act this way with everyone. 

“Okay, okay asshole, I’m coming,” Sam laughed back from his seat, dismissing himself from his companion and swaggering over to you and Danny. Without saying another word, he pulled Danny’s other arm around his shoulders, the two of you supporting the weight of the drunken curly-haired man between you. 

Sam leaned forward a bit to catch your attention, “So, what's the plan?”

“I’m gonna take him to my place, get some Alka-seltzer in him before he passes out on the couch,” you explained. You appreciated that you both could drop the act for a second, more concerned about helping your mutual friend than bickering. “If you could just help me get him to my car, that’d be great.”

Sam nodded his understanding, but asked, “And are you going to be able to get him up the stairs to your apartment by yourself?” He had a good point, the stairs to your place were treacherous being that you lived on the fourth floor, the stairwell full of angled turns that you were sure you’d have to drag Daniel up. 

You sighed, “Probably not, would you mind helping me?”

Danny chimed in, “I can walk up the stairs just fine, thank you very much,” trying his best to convince you both but the tripping of his feet told you everything you needed to know. 

Sam smirked with a hint of fire in his eyes, intentionally ignoring Danny’s plea, “I thought you’d never ask.”

~~~~~~

“C’mon Danny, just a few more flights,” you begged, Danny dragging along like dead weight between you and Sam. Thankfully, the ride home had been bearable, Sam too focused on his friend to pay any attention to you as you drove. You were grateful for that fact, definitely less than pleased that Sam would be stepping through the threshold of your home even if it was for a good cause. The other men had been to your place plenty of times, but you had a strict rule about not letting Sam over. Didn’t want his energy in your space. 

“You got this, Dan, come on buddy,” Sam chimed in with you, readjusting Danny’s arm around his shoulder, hauling him up the stairs. Finally, you made it to the landing where your front door stood, and you shimmied out from under Danny’s arm as you fumbled for your keys. 

“I love you guys,” Danny mumbled out, wrapping his now-free arm around Sam and bringing him into a bear hug that had Sam laughing. You couldn’t help but chuckle too; your best friend was a sentimental drunk. 

“Yeah, we love you too, you flirt,” Sam said, clapping his hand on the man's back as you unlocked the door and held it open for them to stumble through. “I’m not a flirt,” you heard Danny say, almost unintelligible as they passed you and headed over to the couch, thankfully not too far from your front door. You watched for a minute as Sam set Danny down on the cushions, then immediately crouched down in front of his friend and began untying the laces of Danny’s beat up Vans.

You remembered Danny’s words from earlier that night: “He’s way more harmless than he looks.” Maybe he was right, but it would take a whole lot more than that to convince you that Sam was a genuinely good person. 

‘Would take a whole personality change, you thought as you shut and locked the front door. 

“Can you get him situated? I’m gonna grab him some water and meds,” you called, already heading towards your kitchen. Sam waved you off, which you took as a ‘yes’, and left the room. As you rummaged through your cupboards, you reminded yourself of all the things you disliked about Sam; you weren’t going to let this one act of kindness get to you. Besides, you’ve witnessed some truly despicable things from him. 

Plopping two antacid tablets in a cup of water, you hurried back to the living room, seeing that Danny was now horizontal on your couch, his head propped up behind a couple of decorative pillows. Sam grabbed a blanket from the basket that sat on the floor and draped it over him before sitting on the arm of the couch by Danny’s feet. Making your way over to your friend, you saw that his eyes were closed, already dozing off. You scratched his head lightly, causing his eyes to open a smidge. 

“Take a couple sips of it, then you can go to sleep,” you cooed, his hand coming up to grab the cup and bringing it to his lips. “Thanks, honey,” he whispered after drinking half the glass and handing it back to you, smiling up at you as he laid his head back on the pillow. You leaned over to set the cup on the end table by Danny’s head, then moved to kneel next to the couch, running your fingers through his hair to coax him to sleep. His eyes immediately drifted shut, and soon enough his breathing evened out, faint snores coming from his slightly parted lips. You smiled to yourself, purposefully forgetting that the man you despised sat no more than 10 feet away from you, watching silently as you took care of his friend. Sleep wasn’t too far off for you, either, and you desperately needed to get out of your clothes and into something comfy, but before you could get up, Sam cleared his throat, reminding you of his presence.

“I’m gonna stay with him for a little while longer, if that’s okay with you,” he said softly, not a hint of the usual arrogance in his tone. You blinked at him, a little stunned by the kindness of the gesture and the gentleness of his words. “Oh come on, Y/n, I know I’m a dick but I’m not that heartless.”

And there’s the asshole I know. 

You stood, stretching a bit before landing your eyes on him again. “You can do whatever you want, I’m gonna go get ready for bed. You can let yourself out when you’re ready.” Not bothering to wait for an answer, you turned on your heel and started towards your bedroom; you weren’t too interested in what he had to say anyways. 

To your dismay, sleep completely evaded you the second your head hit the pillow. Teeth brushed, face washed and in a big, comfy t-shirt, you tossed and turned in your bed, finally deciding to turn back on your salt lamp. Josh had told you once or twice that it’s better to get up and do something if you can’t sleep rather than just stare at the ceiling, so you decided to heed his advice. 

You checked the time on your phone; it had been an hour or so since you left the boys in your living room. You knew Danny would sleep through the night no problem, and you could have sworn that you heard the front door slam a half hour ago, signifying Sam’s departure. 

You locked your phone and put it back on your nightstand. 

Sam. 

You flipped on your back and huffed out a sigh; you couldn’t believe that he had been in your apartment. Reliving the events from the night, your blood began to heat again, remembering just how infuriating he had been at the bar. How rude he had been to those women. How hot you had found it that he locked the both of you in the bathroom, and how your thighs clenched when he grabbed your wrist. 

How could you be this attracted to a man you despised? It made your anger grow tenfold, trying desperately to convince yourself that he did not have this effect on you, that you were simply tired and touch-deprived and that was the reason why your mind was stooping so low. But the more that you thought about him from the sanctuary of your bed, the needier you became. It was just physical attraction, right? There’s nothing wrong with that, you repeated in your mind, knowing damn well that you were going to beat yourself up in the morning for what you were about to do. 

Alright Josh,  I’ll do something, you thought as you opened the drawer on your nightstand, grabbing your vibrator that kept you company on nights like these. 

Back bowing off the mattress, you held your breath as your eyes screwed shut, your release just out of arm's reach. Thoughts of Sam swirled in your mind's eye, imagining the way his guitar fingers would feel pressed into the canvas of your skin, the song your name would sound like when it dripped from his lips. Your orgasm was speeding towards you, the wave cresting and about to crash, when the sound of your bedroom door shutting snapped you back to reality. 

Your eyes shot open as you bolted straight up, your vibrator still buzzing away beneath the bed sheets. 

“Please, don’t stop on my behalf.”

Sam stood with his back pressed against your door, a mirror image of his actions from earlier. Arms crossed, a devilish smirk on his face that you wish you could smack right off. And you would get up to do it if only you were wearing pants. 

“GET OUT!” You hissed, your vision blurry with rage as you chucked your pillow at him with little thought. He side-stepped it easily, not paying the plush fabric any mind.

“In my defense, I knocked,” his head tilted up so he could look down his nose at you, “twice. Seems like you were too preoccupied to hear me.”

“Sam, I told you to get out! Why are you still here, anyways?” You fumbled for your vibrator under the sheets, finally switching it off, shrouding your room in silence. 

“Well,” he shoved off the door, eyes still glued to you, “I was coming to ask you if there was a pot or bowl or something I could set next to Dan in case he needed to throw up.” He made it to the foot of your bed, looking down at your exposed leg that was visible from beneath your blankets and slowly trailed his gaze to your beet-red face. 

You pulled the blankets so your bottom half was completely covered, “There are things underneath the kitchen island, okay? Just please, for the love of god, get out of my fucking room!” You yelled at him; you desperately needed him to leave so you could focus on your breathing and not on the wetness collecting on the insides of your thighs. 

But Sam clearly had other plans as he sat at the foot of your bed, not bothering to say a word for what felt like ages. 

“Bet I could do a better job than that bit of plastic.” 

What? Were you hearing him correctly?

Your eyebrows shot up as you tried to find words, but his statement had shocked your brain into malfunction.

“I’m just saying,” he glanced at the lump underneath the blankets next to you, to the toy that hid beneath, “I’m right here. And I could do a better job.”

“Are you fucking serious right now, Sam?”

His smirk dropped and was replaced by a sternness that you’ve never seen from him as he leaned ever so slightly closer to you. 

“That depends, are you considering it?”

“No way, I fucking hate you!” You tried to whip your other pillow at him but he caught it effortlessly, holding your stare with an eyebrow raised. 

Of course you were considering it, you had been seconds away from your own release that was brought on by lewd thoughts of him, and now that he sat at the edge of your bed, looking positively sinful… How could you not consider?

“Likewise, but I’ve seen the way you look at me. You think I don’t notice, but I do.” The smirk came back. That stupid, gut-wrenching smirk. “And I think I’ve made myself clear about what I think of you.”

“And what do you think of me, Samuel?” That piqued your interest, subconsciously mirroring his actions and leaning your body closer to his.

His voice was a low rumble in his chest as his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips. 

“I think you’re a brat, you’re entitled.” Suddenly, he was shifting his position, climbing onto your bed on his hands and knees.

“You have a big mouth.”

He moved closer to you. 

“You ruin my fun.”

Closer still.

“I can’t fucking stand that you’re close with my brothers.”

Closer.

“I fucking despise being around you,”

His arms encased your legs on either side of them, his head mere inches away from yours, and just barely a whisper, he breathed,

“And yet I dream of all the pretty noises I could coax out of you while you’re in my bed.” He glanced down at his hands and grabbed the sheets, “Or your bed, apparently.” 

“You talk a big game as if you didn’t just say you think about fucking me,” you said lowly, thankfully your voice steadier than how you truly felt. “I can see it in your eyes when you're spouting your stupid shit to me, even before you admitted it.”

Sitting up further on the bed, you pressed your back against your headboard, having more room now that your pillows were scattered remains on the floor. Your confidence swelled; the man you hated had just revealed that he dreamt of having you, taking you, and you weren’t going to let that bit of information go to waste. 

“You know what I think, Sam? I think there’s a different reason why you can’t keep a girl longer than one night,” you mused, crossing your arms and feigning disinterest. 

“And what would that be, doll?” 

It was your turn to look down your nose at him, causing that wicked grin to crawl upon his features. 

“You’re a little attention whore. You want these girls to want you, and once they do, you get bored. Such a fucking asshole. You want them to think about you, to get all hot and bothered by you, and you toy with their hearts cause you truly don’t want any of them, do you?”

Sam was back hovering over you in an instant, one of his hands gripping your cheeks so your lips puckered slightly, his eyes searing into your soul as your own were blown wide. 

“Tell me what I want.”

You tilted your chin up a little more, your nose nearly brushing his as you fixed your stare; it was your turn for a devilish smile. 

“You’ve always wanted me, haven’t you?”

His hand left your cheek in favor of caressing your jawline, his slender fingers pausing underneath your chin as he brought his face ever closer to yours as you asked, “Do you wanna fuck me?”

Genuine amusement shown on his features for a split second before he regained his composure, humor still dancing in the chocolate of his eyes,

“I really want to, doll, but you know that.” His thumb brushed against your lips; the gentleness that would pop up here and there was still surprising you, being as it wasn’t something you were used to. Maybe if you had paid more attention to him you would have picked up on it, but you were never interested in getting to know him more than the bare minimum. Maybe until now… “Do you want to?”

Was this really happening? You knew you wanted him, needed him, badly, but what would happen tomorrow? A week from now when you inevitably would see him at the bar? Oh god, and Danny was still asleep on your couch not too far away��� 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” He whispered. 

“Yes, I want you to fuck me, Sam.”

His face darkened nearly instantaneously, the leash on his composure snapping. The light hand underneath your chin traveled quickly to your throat, and you felt his calloused fingers squeeze the sides of your neck as he breathed into your ear, 

“Yellow, we slow down and talk. Red, we stop altogether.” You sucked a sharp inhale through your nose; you couldn’t believe how excited you were. “Or tap me three times, I’ll know what it means.”

He didn’t have to look down at your body to feel you squirming in place, for he knew exactly what he was doing to you. And when you felt his lips curl into a smile against the shell of your ear, the leash holding you back snapped as well. 

“Green.”

That was all he needed. Before you knew it, Sam had let go of your throat with a hint of force, hopping up to yank you to the foot of the bed by your ankles, bringing you to lay flat on your mattress. He rolled his eyes as a faint gasp escaped you, every movement he made shocked you slightly. Straightening to his full height, he began removing his clothes, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his display; you’ve never even seen him shirtless before. 

The outfit he wore tonight was one of your favorites- a pair of black slacks that fit him a little too tightly, not that you were complaining, and a cream colored corduroy button up, buttoned only at his navel, a page out of his older brother's book. A small, navy crystal in the shape of a triangle hung as a pendant around his neck. Simple, but elegant. You could see he was unbelievably hard already, straining in the confines of his pants, and secretly you knew he was getting off on watching you watch him, only further confirming his need and love for attention. 

He forwent unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift motion, revealing his slim, tanned torso. It felt nice to have an excuse to marvel at his beauty, to take a moment to really look at him without any malcontent. 

“Like what you see, princess?”

Nevermind. 

You flopped back down on the bed, causing your t-shirt to hike up a little higher. The blankets and sheets were still hiding you from him so he couldn’t see your exposed skin, but you were growing impatient, ready to throw them off of you. Ready to pull Sam on top of you. The mental notes you had taken suggested that if you pushed the right buttons, he’d easily give you what you wanted. 

“You ruin everything when you speak, Samuel,” you sighed, doing your best to look disappointed. 

His eyebrows shot up as he tied his hair back in a low bun; the feral look in his eyes told you that he wasn’t going to tolerate much more. 

Good. 

Ripping the blankets off of your body, he threw them to the floor. The cool air in your bedroom lapped at your bare legs, sending a kiss straight to your core. And then he was pinning your legs open with both of his knees, his hands planted on either side of your head, bits of hair already falling from his bun and curtaining your vision. 

“You’re such a fucking tease, princess.” He dipped his chin to his chest to assess the mess that had already gathered at the apex of your thighs. “And you’re already so wet for me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, did you forget-”

“Forget about this?” He reached across your mattress to grab your vibrator, cold and lonely. “How could I?”

The teasing was becoming unbearable and you debated whether you should just toss him out of your room and get back to your night with your trusty toy. 

“Can you either shut up or put your mouth to good use?” You huffed. 

A saccharine smile as he bent closer, a promise of a kiss as he whispered, “I intend to take my time with you, to make you scream and wake poor Daniel up.”

He was about to capture your lips with his and as much as you wish he would, your annoyance was still at the forefront of your mind. Since both of your hands were free, you used one to clamp over his mouth, his eyes shooting open in surprise. 

“Ah ah ah,” you tutted, “I don’t think you’ve earned that privilege.” You turned on your best set of doe eyes as you cooed, “Find another use for your mouth.”

Sam playfully nipped at the palm of your hand before rising on his knees, stretching your legs even further, a look of pure wonder as he observed you spread out for him. He dropped your toy in favor of using his hands to roam over your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt that was now bunched up on your hips. You helped him pull it over your head, and once his hands were free of the fabric, they were sweeping over your skin anywhere he could touch; swiping his thumbs on the smooth skin underneath your breasts, running his fingers over your ribs and down the sides of your waist, until they landed on on the divots where your hips met your thighs. And he stole the air out of your lungs as he breathed to himself, “Stunning.”

But he moved on quickly, moving to lay flat on his stomach in between your legs, picking up your vibrator in his left hand. Catching your stare as he lowered his mouth to where you needed him most, he shot you a wink before diving into your cunt, sending a long stripe from his tongue from your entrance up to your clit. It all happened so quickly, and you gasped as your head shot back onto the mattress, hands flying to the silky roots of his hair. 

He hummed against you immediately, causing delicious vibrations to shoot straight through your system. Stars were illuminating the backs of your eyelids as he devoured you with a fervor no partner has ever rivaled, and you silently cursed him, knowing that you would unfortunately be craving this night after night. 

The pleasure was short lived, however, as he withdrew his lips that were attached to your clit. You lifted your head up and shot him a look of utter annoyance, only to then hear the faint buzzing of your vibrator. 

“Didn’t you say you could do a better job than that thing?”

“Yes, and I am,” he smirked, using his free hand to trace your entrance and gather your slick on his fingers. He held them up to show you, “I just thought since you wanted to cum so badly with it, I’d have to make you.”

Your groan of distaste quickly turned more guttural as he pressed the silicone directly on your throbbing clit. A dark chuckle rang out through your room as he watched you begin to writhe on the mattress, your hands gripping the sheets as if your life depended on it. There was no build up; he had turned your toy to its highest setting and pressed it against you with enough pressure to send you into oblivion. Your moans continued to grow louder, your orgasm nearer to you than you had estimated. 

The fingers on his free hand began dancing around your dripping entrance, and you forced your eyes open to watch as he slid two fingers inside you, curling them to the perfect angle that caused his name to tumble past your lips. 

“Shhh…” he started condescendingly, “What would Daniel think? Hearing you be such a fucking whore for me.” You whimpered, trying to quiet yourself and prolong the inevitable release that would soon crash into you. “What is it he always calls you?” His tone was mocking, his eyes blown with lust and his mouth slightly agape. Until he snapped his eyes to yours, “Honey?”

“D-don’t,” you whined, but your body betrayed you as you clenched around his fingers. 

“Oh, you just love it when he calls you that, don’t you? I can’t wait to tell him what it does to you.” His fingers sped up their pace as your thighs began to tremble, your walls fluttering around him. “C’mon, give it up, honey, I know you’re there.”

Your back bowed off the mattress for the second time tonight, eyes screwing shut as the ball of tension in your stomach finally snapped and you were clamping around his fingers, vibrator still buzzing away with all its might. 

“That’s it, princess, cum for me,” he cooed, slowing his fingers but not taking the toy away as he watched in awe while you rode out your orgasm, twisting and turning on the mattress beneath him. 

It wasn’t long before overstimulation had you in its grasp, and you grabbed his wrist with more force than you thought you had in you, silently begging him to let up. He looked at you, batting his eyelashes, and you prepared yourself for more nonsense to fall from his lips. 

“I thought you wanted to cum so badly?”

“Sam, please,” you admitted defeat, “I can’t do another.” Steadying yourself with deep breaths through your nose, pleading with your eyes for him to show you mercy.

But your jaw dropped as he genuinely laughed at you, a malicious sounding noise filling the space. 

“Told you you’d catch flies with that dumb ass look on your face.” He finally withdrew both the toy from your oversensitive clit and his fingers from inside you, bringing the digits to your open mouth and placing them on your tongue. You hollowed out your cheeks instantly, tasting yourself and humming around his fingers. 

“Who knew that such a brat would end up being so good for me.”

That wasn’t going to slide, and he knew he made a mistake when he caught the mischievous glint in your eyes mere moments before you bit down on his fingers. However, your plan backfired, and before you knew it, the same hand was wrapped around your throat again, anger written plainly on his face. 

“I’m getting real fucking sick of your attitude, Y/n. You should be on your knees thanking me that I let you cum.” Your eyes narrowed, his words causing your own annoyance to ignite once again. “Actually, that’s what you’re going to do. Hands and knees.”

He released his iron grip and yanked you up to a sitting position, but all you could bring yourself to do was cross your arms. 

“Let me? You’re the one who barged into my room and ruined everything.”

“On your hands and knees, now.”

Oh, this was too much fun. And you let him know so with a smirk curling on your lips. 

“Make me.”

His arms were around you in an instant, hauling you up and effectively flipping you onto your stomach with a slight bounce off the mattress. Your hair caught around your eyes and in your mouth at how swift the motion was, and felt his hands wrap around your belly and lift up, forcing you to hold your weight with your hands and knees. Your own curiosity had you biting back your witty retort; you were intrigued to know if he would hold onto this dominant streak. 

His weight left the mattress as you huffed in exasperation, trying to pretend you were growing bored even though you were anything but. And when you heard the faint unzipping of his pants, you couldn’t help but crane your neck over to where he was, catching him just in time to watch him free his length from his briefs and kick off his pants. Fuck, he was positively huge, and of course every single part of him was beautiful. 

He vanished from your vision quickly and you felt him kneel behind you, causing your heart rate to quicken. However, he didn’t move to touch you. 

“I’m growing tired, Samuel,” you pretended to yawn, “if you don’t hurry up and fuck me, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave-”

His fist was in your hair immediately, pulling you up so your back was flush with his chest. 

“For the sake of both of us,” he hissed into your ear, “I suggest you drop the act, princess.”

Your world was spinning as he threw you back onto the mattress, one of his large hands splaying across your back and pushing you even further into it, causing your ass to rise in the air. 

“You’re going to take what I give you.” A gasp left your lungs as his free hand landed a sharp smack against the side of your thigh, “And you’re going to be fucking grateful for it.” Another harsh smack, this one directly on the flesh of your ass. 

“If you think for a second,” smack, “about spouting your bullshit,” smack, “I’ll make sure you regret it.” He began running his hand over the red, swollen skin, soothing the bruises that were sure to make their appearance tomorrow. 

“Color?” Softness returned to his voice, the calluses on his fingertips lightly moving to trace your shoulder blades. 

“Green,” you gritted out, “green, you fucking asshole, keep going.”

The dominance switched back in an instant, his hands flying to your ass cheeks and spreading you wide open. The display had you clenching around nothing, ever eager for him to finally fill you up. 

“How sweet,” he cooed, gripping his cock and running the tip through your folds, gathering up your wetness and smearing it along his length, “she’s blowing me kisses.”

The words you were about to let fly caught in your throat as he slowly pushed into you, stretching you in a delicious way that your body had never felt before. The two of you groaned in tandem; you could feel him pulsating as he bottomed out, stilling for a moment to let you get used to his size. You hated to admit it, but it felt like he was made for you; no one had fit so perfectly inside you. 

“Fuck, Y/n, you feel incredible.” His harsh attitude was faltering, you could tell, as he leaned forward to brush your hair out of your eyes, your head turned to the side with your cheek against the mattress. You would’ve found it endearing, if it were anyone but him, and you let him know that fact with a look of annoyance from out of your peripheral. 

“Move, you bastard.” Once again, playing the game to get what you want. And with a hand pressing the side of your face into the mattress, he started on a gruelingly harsh pace that had moans tumbling from your mouth with reckless abandon. 

The sound of skin slapping against itself filled the room, accompanied by Sam’s filthy words and your pathetic moans. He was drilling into you with every ounce of power in his body, and you imagined how heavenly he must look with sweat dripping down his chest and his eyebrows knitted together. You would’ve turned to look back at him had your eyes not been rolled back into your skull, your groans and pleas becoming an endless mantra that only spurred him on further. 

Finally, he enveloped both of your wrists within a hand, tugging you upwards so that your back was sticking against his chest, the new angle causing you to yelp out a curse of his name. Your head lulled back onto his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to nip at your ear as he continued his murderous pace. 

“Look at you,” he panted into your ear, “you’re cock drunk on me already.” He groaned as you twisted your hands free, snaking them back into his drenched hair. You could tell he was getting close to his release, his thrusts beginning to falter ever so slightly, and that thought had you clenching down around him, ready to drain him of everything he was worth. 

“Shit, honey, if you keep doing that, I won’t last much longer,” he whined, trailing a hand down your front and settling to rub fast circles around your clit. 

“Don’t-” you gasped, trying to get your words out, “don’t call me honey.” 

He huffed a breath in your ear, “I think we’re well past that-” His circles quickened, your thighs beginning to shake as you could see your own orgasm on the horizon. 

You needed to spur him on one last time. You needed him to continue his pace. You needed to get in one more jab before you both reached your end. And by some miracle, you found your voice. 

“Fuck, Sam! God, I fucking hate you-”

His hips bucked and he let out the most obscene moan you had heard from him all night, one that would forever be cemented in your brain. “Fuck, say that again, Y/n,” he breathed, pushing you back against the mattress so he had more leverage to pound into you, fingers still working your clit. 

Your eyes screwed shut as you gripped the sheets, the leash on your release about to snap.

“I-” His hand landed another sharp slap against your ass, causing you to gasp and clamp down hard on his cock, the words dying on your tongue. 

“Please, say it again, I’m so fucking close.”

“Sam,” you whined, “I’m gonna cum, please keep going.”

“Say it,” he seethed, his pace not relenting even though you could hear him panting.

Tears were brimming in your eyes, and you could feel them spill over as you choked out, 

“I fucking hate you.”

You could feel him swelling inside you, his breathing turning into pitchy moans. 

“Where can I-”

“Inside, do it.”

That was the last bit of convincing he needed before he bent over you, sheathing himself even further as he spilled inside of you, a string of curses mixing in with praises of your name. Hearing your name fall so freely and adoringly from his lips caused your own orgasm to finally crash into you, turning your vision white and your ears to ring. You could faintly hear him hiss as you clenched and fluttered around his sensitive cock, but your body and mind were floating, skin prickling and tingling as he rode you through your high. 

Hands massaging your shoulders kept you tethered to the earth, bringing you back into your mind as you began to settle, your chest heaving and your throat a bit hoarse from the volume of your moans. 

“Come back to me princess, come on,” he wiped your brow, coaxing your eyes to flutter open. Once he saw that you were present in your body, he withdrew from you, causing you both to shudder and wince. 

After a few long minutes of catching your breath, he stood, rummaging through the pile of clothes, pillows, and blankets that were strewn across the floor. Plucking up your sleep shirt you had been wearing not too long ago, he brought it over to you, kneeling on the bed to wipe up your mixed releases that had begun to collect on your thighs and bed sheets. 

You hissed through your teeth; you were a lot more sensitive than you had thought you’d be, surely going to be sore in the morning. 

“You really had to use my shirt for this? I have towels in the bathroom.”

He smiled to himself, an action he didn’t think you would catch as you watched him clean you up. 

“Glad to see your attitude hasn’t changed.”

Once he was satisfied with his work, he shoved off the bed, chucking the shirt back onto the floor and grabbing his clothes, beginning to dress himself. 

“Plus,” he started as he buttoned his pants, glancing at you with that nonchalance you hated, “now you have something to remember me by.”

You scoffed, not bothering to get into it with him in favor of watching him pull his shirt back over his head, ridding his hair of the tie that bound it. You were waiting for the self-loathing to set in; waiting for the guilt of giving in to your desires, but you felt none of it. Instead, you felt a tad grateful, in some messed up way, that he had caught you in the act tonight because it caused the two of you to release an arsenal of pent up emotions you harbored for each other. 

Once he was dressed, he strode over to the bed and knelt down on the floor, choosing to smooth out your hair and trail his fingers down your spine. You hummed in approval, the slight massage lulling you closer and closer to sleep. His eyes shone with a new emotion; you couldn’t detect the same distaste that always was dancing within them when he looked at you. There was lust there, and a certain seriousness that you didn’t recognize, but you welcomed it. 

He surprised you for one last time as he bent down and placed a gentle kiss to your cheek, smoothing the skin with his thumb after he pulled away. You couldn’t help but smile up at him as he straightened to his full height.

“That certainly didn’t feel like you hate me, Samuel,” you called as you watched him make his way to your bedroom door, somewhat eager for him to leave so you could finally get to sleep. 

“Well,” he breathed, sending a smirk over his shoulder as he turned the handle, “imagine being loved by me.”

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[theharddeck]

talk with my hands, maybe take it real slow (jake seresin x fem!reader)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)

Synopsis: Jake's roommate has a new tattoo and can't stop itching at it...what kind of friend would he be, if he didn't help distract her?

Warnings: this fic is 18+, minors please DNI – we go pretty quickly into smut, featuring the usual--explicit oral sex (both receiving, bc we're feminists like that), and then also PiV sex, including but not limited to, condescension, overstimulation (bc what's the point of fiction if we're not wringing multiple orgasms out of our self insert?) and creampies (do not have unprotected, unnegotiated sex pls)

Length: 7.8k

A/N: sorry about the moodboard being lacluster; I couldn't find a tattoo pic that wasn't on a size 0 thigh or white, so we went without

You hadn’t considered yourself to be a person with particularly awful self control, but then again, you’d never had a tattoo healing on your inner thigh, driving you mad with the need to scratch at it. It’d been 3 weeks since the appointment and your ink was probably 95% healed; the redness had faded entirely and a couple raised patches of roughness were all you had to show for the fact that it was new. Which somehow made the incessant need to itch all the more frustrating, because you were pretty sure it was mostly phantom at this point. 

“Listen, honey, you gotta chill.” Jake’s voice interrupted your inner monologue, from his seat on the couch across the living room. 

Your roommate had started in hard on the Southern pet names when he’d seen that they’d flustered you. Honestly, there was precious little the man wouldn’t do, if it meant making you unnerved. You two didn’t have what you’d call a friendship, but the playful Something between the two of you felt safe and fun. Even if it did mean that Jake seemed to take a little more pleasure than he should’ve, in the face of your pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you replied drily, “are the literal thousands of abrasions on my skin irritating you?”

Jake rolled his eyes at your melodrama. “I can feel you thinking from over here, and it’s taking up real estate that belongs to Maya Hawke,” he gestured to the TV where the latest season of Stranger Things was playing.  

“It itches,” you mumbled, hearing the complaint in your voice and knowing it was pathetic, but too over it to care. 

Jake cut you a long look, like he also heard it, and was embarrassed for you. “Want me to get you some ice?” he asked, and it was sweet of him to offer, but…

“We’re out of ice,” you sighed. “I went through the last two trays in, like, record time, and they’re refreezing now.”

“We have like fourteen trays,” Jake frowned.

“Yeah, well someone,” you paused meaningfully, “drastically depleted our resources when he decided to have a bourbon tasting over the weekend.”

Jake had the grace to look guilty for a  moment. Then it was his turn to sigh dramatically, lifting his arm to the back of the couch and swatting at the cushion next to him. “Alright, kid, c’mere.”

In retrospect, you probably should’ve asked why, or at least deliberated for half a second before doing what he asked. In reality, you pushed off the settee you’d been lounging on, and flopped ungracefully onto the couch next to Jake. You shared a bathroom with the man and he’d seen you on the second day of your period; dignity was a distant memory. 

Still, it didn’t prepare you for Jake pulling your legs apart with one of his large hands, and spreading his fingers over your tattoo, all while calmly turning up the volume of the TV with the remote in his other hand. 

“Jesus, Jake,” you choked out, telling yourself the goosebumps erupting over your whole body were entirely because of your surprise, and not any other reason. “Buy a girl a drink first.”

Jake chuckled, somehow managing to shake his head at you while not looking away from the TV. “You’re the one who’s always telling me my hands are cold as ice.”

Had you said that?

It sounded like something you’d say.

But Jake’s hand on your leg felt anything but cold. Okay, no, if you separated your brain from—well, from anything—you could recognize that his fingers were quite cold, and it was incredibly soothing having them over you. His thumb was brushing lightly over your skin, while the rest of his hand stayed still, and you knew that ice cubes couldn’t do that, but damn, it would’ve been great if they could. You settled back into the couch, relaxing into the soft material and the relief brought by Jake’s hands.

It was a wonderful two minutes. 

Good to know that that was how long it took for the fourth law of thermodynamics to kick in, and for Jake’s fingers to warm up after extended contact with your skin.  

Then a new problem was presented—you couldn’t scratch at yourself without scratching him. You shifted slightly, to see if you could get any type of friction, but Jake’s touch was light enough that he moved with you. You snuck a glance at Jake’s profile, still fixed on the TV screen, and his expression could best be described as incredibly pleased with himself.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” you muttered accusingly.  

“Absolutely,” he said, smugly. “You could fidget up a storm over there, but here you have to just deal with it.”

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from sticking your tongue out at him petulantly. You folded your hands in your lap, determined to ignore the rising propensity to scratch at yourself. At some point, you’d sunken into the couch until your shoulder was pressed against Jake’s arm, and you shifted so your cheek was resting against him too. His tshirt was soft, and he smelled clean, like a freaking linen candle, which was annoying, because it didn’t help clear the riotous tangle of thoughts rushing through your head.

You did stop fidgeting, though.

“Atta girl,” Jake said quietly, his thumb still moving over your thigh.

Was it hot in here?

It had to be hot in here.

Because this was Jake, your roommate, who’d never shown an ounce of interest in you, being calm as anything with his hand literally on your thigh, and saying things that would’ve sounded like come ons from anyone else.

You tried to focus on the TV, and whatever ridiculous shenanigans the children on it had found themselves in, pulling a deep breath through your nose.

(Immediate mistake, because of said linen candle bullshit). 

On the TV, Nancy’s hair got frizzier, Steve’s life got shittier, and all the while your leg was getting itchier and itchier.

You reached to press a hand over the skin distractedly, forgetting momentarily that Jake’s hand was there until you encountered his fingers instead of your skin. He turned his hand over, his knuckles pressing against your skin while his fingers intercepted your own.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, voice lightly mocking, and you wrinkled your nose. It wasn’t fair that he wasn’t affected, his hands so close to your burning skin, and he still had the wherewithal to tease you for your poor impulse control.

“Jake,” you whined, trying to untangle your fingers, but his grip was unrelenting, “I’m not gonna scratch, okay, I just need to do something.”

He looked down at you, which you had to admit, was a hell of an experience when your head was practically on his shoulder. 

He blinked slowly, looking at you closely before he opened his hands, letting your fingers go. You pulled your hand back, eyes closing in relief when you pressed them against your skin. It wasn’t as good as scratching, but the pressure helped, and you shifted your fingers—and your nail accidentally dragged against your skin. 

Which was pretty much the worst thing that could happen, because it was like a tease and it shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, but you were half a second away from clawing up your thigh when Jake’s hand closed around your wrist again. 

“Seriously?” he asked, amusement coloring his tone. 

“Just let me,” you pleaded, trying to pull your wrist back. “It’ll take like two seconds and then it’ll hurt and I can stop.”

“You could also get infected or mess up the ink placement,” he said, and you stopped pulling for a moment.

“When did you learn so much about tattoo care?” you grumbled, and Jake chuckled again. It sounded different this close to him, deeper. 

“When my roommate decided to mark up the inside of her leg,” he replied easily. “Now don’t you have a lotion or something you can put on this?”

“I do, but it doesn’t help,” you said, annoyed that he was right. 

“Well, let’s at least try it, yeah?” Jake asked, and you rolled your neck, sighing. 

“Fine,” you pushed yourself off the couch. 

You felt Jake’s eyes following you to the bathroom, so you didn’t scratch at your leg, not wanting to hear more of his teasing. You found the jar of lotion, dropping back onto the couch as you unscrewed the lid. 

“It’s just gonna be sticky and leave white marks on the couch,” you groused, looking confusedly over at Jake when he held his hand out. “What?”

“What do you mean, what,” he retorted, like it was obvious. “I’m not gonna let you do this; you have zero impulse control.”

You were too stunned to resist when he plucked the lotion out of your hands, dipping his fingers into the jar. 

Had you said that the worst thing was an accidental nail brush against your tattoo?

That wasn’t true. 

Because the actual worst thing was having to sit there, pretending everything was fine and normal, as your ridiculously hot roommate started spreading Aquaphor on your inner thigh. 

Jake was nothing if not thorough, his long fingers smoothing the cool lotion over your skin, pressing slowly into you and fucking kneading into your thighs, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was that he was entirely serious. Gone was the teasing condescension, the knowing look, and in its place was an unfamiliar gentleness. 

Jake’s head was bent, some of his perfect hair falling in front of his eyes, as he properly tended to your leg like he was a nurse and these were doctor’s orders. Like he wanted to be absolutely careful as he looked after you, like looking after you was even something he did. You swallowed, forcing your breathing to remain even. 

This was fine, this was normal. 

This was absolutely not complicating the tenuous relationship the two of you had, and wasn’t causing you to read into the pet names, the caring, the fact that his big hand was literally between your legs. 

He had to stop, or you had to stop, because now was not the time to be thinking risque things about your roommate, not when he was genuinely being sweet and trying to help.

“I think that’s good,” you said, hoping Jake couldn’t hear the tremor in your voice. 

Jake tipped his head to the side, considering his work, then nodded to himself, satisfied. He rubbed his hands together, wiping the excess lotion on the backs of his knuckles, and screwed the lid of the jar back on. You were readjusting on the couch when he leaned across you to leave the jar on the coffee table and when he shifted back, one of you messed up, because his forearm brushed against your chest. 

“Uh, sorry,” Jake said quickly, “I wasn’t—”

He was interrupted, of course.

Because you could tell yourself you were fine, everything was fine, all day long, but turns out that the slightest, accidental brush of Jake against your breasts had an ungodly whimper spilling out of your mouth before you could stop it. 

He froze. 

Shit. 

“Shit,” you said aloud, hands covering your face in embarrassment, “no, I’m sorry, that wasn’t—uh, we can ignore that—I don’t know what’s going on with me, sorry to make it weird, it’s not your fault—”

You stopped babbling when Jake’s hands closed on your wrists, and, for the upteenth time that night, you let yourself be guided by him. When he pulled your hands away, your breath caught at how close he was, and the unfamiliar expression on his face as he looked between your eyes. 

“I need to know right now,” he said, his voice serious as anything, “if you’re apologizing because you’re embarrassed, or because you didn’t mean it.”

You pressed your lips together, not trusting what sounds would come out of your mouth with Jake’s hands holding your wrists, and his eyes this intense. Whatever he read on your face had Jake’s lips parting, a shaking breath drawn in through them, before they thinned in a lazy smile. 

“And here I thought I was the perv, taking any excuse to get my hands on you, darlin’, when you’ve been wanting me just as bad.”

Your jaw dropped at his blunt words, but what, were you going to say he was wrong? 

Jake’s head cocked sideways when you didn’t say anything, and he guided your hands to the back of his neck, before letting go of them. Your fingers wound around his neck, the ends of his hair brushing your thumbs, and you realized he was waiting for you to say something before this—whatever ‘this’ was—went any further.

“Probably worse,” you admitted, not even trying to hide the breathlessness in your voice, “if I’m honest.”

Jake’s eyes darkened and his grin grew wider. “If that’s how honest sounds, I think I want to hear more of it,” he said.

Fuck, he was going to ruin you.

“Kiss me and find out?” you managed, and Jake huffed out a laugh before reaching for you again. His hands settled on your waist and he lifted to drag you towards him. 

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered before his lips crashed into yours. 

You were still reeling from the title, and how you liked the sound of it a little too much, but Jake’s mouth against yours drove that thought from your head. He kissed you like he’d wanted it for longer than you could’ve expected, his teeth biting at your lower lip, his tongue soothing after it. You shifted to help him as he pulled you towards him, both of you gasping when you settled in his lap. You were thankful his flannel pajamas could stand a bit of residual lotion, just as you were thankful for the pressure of his hands on your waist, fingers pressing into you and pulling you closer. Jake licked at the seam of your lips and you opened for him; when his tongue swept into your mouth, you felt it in your core. And suddenly, or maybe not suddenly, maybe finally, after months of build up, you were desperately needy. 

Your fingers pulled through his hair, and Jake’s hips pressed up when you pulled lightly on the strands. At the motion of his rolling hips, your pajama shorts pressed tightly into your core and the friction felt like building, and Jake broke away from your mouth with a gasp. His hands tightened on your waist, holding you still, and while you appreciated his restraint, you wanted to feel him again. 

You whispered his name as he trailed kisses down your neck, and your breath quickened when he found your pulse point under your jaw. Jake hummed, the vibration echoing over your skin, through you, and you realized he was muttering things against your skin. 

“D’you know how hard these last three weeks have been,” he whispered, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed kisses to new goosebumps, “with you always in those tiny shorts, saying it’s because you can’t have tight clothes over your tattoo?”

You felt lightheaded at the idea of Jake wanting you this whole time, maybe longer, locking it away and refusing to act on it because he didn���t know what you felt.    

“It’s true,” you managed, and Jake laughed, a puff of warm air over your skin. 

“And if that wasn’t enough,” another kiss, another soft suck, “you’ve been so whiny, haven’t you? Always pouting, always needy, making me wonder how you’d sound…”

Your eyes were closed, your world distilled to the heat of his mouth, the heat of his words. You pulled at him, needing his mouth over yours again, and Jake obliged. He was so much softer than you expected, gentle but firm, and he tasted so damn good. 

With him distracted, you rolled your hips again, rewarded by the friction over your core, and you could feel Jake hardening in his pajama pants. It was addictive, and you sought him out again, pouting when Jake stilled your hips again. 

“Baby,” he murmured, and heat shot through you at the pet name, not one he’d used jokingly before, “what was the point of the lotion if you’re going to grind it off against my flannels?”

“You can reapply it later,” you rationalized, but Jake shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. His lips were swollen, his cheeks reddened, and you loved the look of him like this, almost dazed. 

“C’mon,” he prompted you, and guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you managed, and Jake’s hands smoothed up the outside of your thighs. You were between his spread knees, and his hands played with the hem of your shorts before he pulled them down your legs, taking care to not scrape them over your tattoo. The air felt cold on your exposed skin, and Jake swore quietly as he dropped the shorts, staring at you in your underwear with something that felt dangerously close to adoration. 

He leaned closer, and at first you thought it was so he could be more gentle with your fragile panties, but then he pressed a kiss to the outside of your thigh and you jumped, pushing him away, embarrassed again. 

“You don’t—” you started, pursing your lips, “um, you don’t have to…do that. We can—”

Jake’s hands smoothed over your thighs, coming around to cup under your ass. Had you said his hands were cold earlier? You were sure they were burning, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched. 

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against your thighs, his nose brushing the soft skin there, as his hands squeezed you, “nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming ‘bout for months.”

Well, fuck, when he put it like that…

“Okay, then,” you said quietly, weaving your hand into his hair again, and Jake flashed a smile up at you. 

“Okay, then,” he echoed, and his fingers pulled your underwear over your hips. He scooted to the front of the couch, a motion that should’ve been cute for his enthusiasm, but instead was simply devastating. He looked so good like this, eager and hungry, and your breath caught when he licked his lips, your hips canting towards him. 

He didn’t look away from you. 

His green eyes locked on yours as he leaned closer, not pausing when his tongue crept past his lips and you were the one to break, your head tipping back when he licked you. His tongue was flat against you, like the first taste of ice cream, and your head spun at the shamelessness of it. You whimpered when he pulled away, and Jake’s breath was warm as he leaned back again. 

“There’s that sound I was after,” he murmured, his soft words a cutting juxtaposition to his filthy tongue. 

He teased you with soft licks, lapping at your arousal that’d only grown since he’d first touched your thighs earlier tonight. His hands snuck around to pull you apart, spread you on his fingers like he needed his tongue closer, tasting you and drinking you. He was unhurried and it was maddening, and you pulled at his tshirt distractedly, needing to feel his skin.  

“Ah, honey,” Jake muttered as he pulled back. “You taste so good, fucking unbelievable.”

You opened your eyes to find his chest heaving, his eyes dilated and your slick smeared across his chin. He looked so good like this, drunk on you, and you imagined you looked nearly as wrecked. He leaned back to pull his tshirt over his head, and your fingers smoothed over broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, as it was bared to you. 

He tossed the shirt aside and a moment later he was leaning back into your cunt, nuzzling your clit with his nose as his tongue lapped at you. Your knees nearly buckled at the sensation, and Jake groaned, the vibrations only increasing the intensity of the feelings flooding you. His strong hands held you up, spread before him, and he lifted his mouth to tease at your clit. You whined when his tongue rolled around you, alternating tight circles and slow, and your eyes rolled back when he closed his lips and sucked. 

“Jake, oh my god,” you gasped, feeling your stomach tighten. It was too soon, you knew it, but you also couldn’t fight it, and it was practically crashing over you—

Jake pulled back. 

You whined in confusion, looking down to find him looking up at you, a familiar expression of smug awareness on his face. He turned his head to press a gentle kiss to your thigh, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. 

“Told you I’ve been waiting on this for months, honey,” he teased, another wet kiss slightly higher on your thigh. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”

Nothing about this felt easy. Not the way he had your body primed for release, every nerve wound tight, not the way you felt it slipping away, and your desperation only climbing. 

You whimpered his name, too gone to be embarrassed by how fucked out you sounded. 

“Aw, baby…” Jake cooed, and you saw his shoulders shift as he repositioned. Before you could anticipate his next move, a broad finger was stroking through your folds, and you cried out, your hands flying to his shoulder to steady yourself. 

“So pretty like this,” Jake soothed, pulling his finger through you, stroking back over you, the pressure perfect, but not enough, “needy. Desperate.”

“Jake, please,” you cried, appalled to find real tears were pushing behind your eyes. After being so close to release, then being denied, then held steady wherever his fingers pulled you, you couldn’t be responsible for the way your body was shaking.

“Bet you’d beg me for it, wouldn’t you?” Jake said, voice even and unbothered. He added another finger, still not entering you, just teasing over you, languid. “You’re all proud when you’re strutting around in those shorts, cute when you ask for help, but not like this, huh? Like this, you know who’s in charge.”

Any response you had was cut off when he plunged both fingers into you. 

No warning, no easing, just sudden pressure and thickness and your body tightened around the sudden intrusion, unrelenting and unexpected and fucking perfect, and you couldn’t stop your orgasm as it ripped through you.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake groaned, as he recognized your walls tightening around his fingers. “Thatta girl, come on, give it to me.”

You moaned, your core clenching as your denied release rolled over you, scalding and strong and you felt it in your toes. You didn’t know how you were still standing, you knew the sounds pouring out of you were unbridled, and Jake was proudly talking you through it. 

“So beautiful, baby, you’re doing so good,” he said, his other hand stroking up your neck to support your head. You turned your head desperately, pulling his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it, needing to be grounded. 

“Fuck, baby,” Jake moaned, and his fingers kept their pace inside you. You felt the edges of your orgasm soften as he worked you through it, and as the fingers not in your mouth brushed against your cheek, you realized he was wiping away tears. You were shaking, it was perfect, but his fingers inside you were pressing deeper and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to push you higher again. 

“How we doing, honey?” Jake asked, and you lifted your head to meet his eyes. He was watching you carefully, and he pulled his thumb from your mouth so you could answer him.

“Good,” you whispered, through the clearing haze, “really, really, good.”

Jake hummed, tilting his head as he considered you. His fingers scissored inside of you, and you clenched down on him, hands grasping his shoulders. 

“Then I think you should give me another,” he said, smile growing as your eyes widened. 

“Jake, wait—” you protested, but you went without opposition when he pulled you back to the couch. His fingers paused their exploration but he didn’t pull out of you as he guided you onto your back, propping your knees up carefully. 

“Have to be gentle with that thigh,” he said, his voice growing husky as he settled between your legs. He stroked his fingers again, and your core clamped down on them, still not fully returned from your first high. Any other protest you had died when he bent down again, his mouth returning to your cunt. 

You’d had his tongue, you’d had his fingers, and they’d made you cum like you hadn’t in months. And now suddenly you had both at once, and you were pretty sure it was going to cost you your mind. 

“Jake, fuck,” you keened, your back arching off the couch.

Jake didn’t respond, too busy lapping up your release and thrusting into you. His tongue traced a maddening pattern over your clit as his fingers pressed deeper into you, stretching you.  

“You taste even sweeter like this, baby,” he mumbled into you, and you moaned as you felt his words. His fingers brushed something deep inside of you and you couldn’t breathe; you reached for Jake’s hair, pulling desperately, hoping he could read how impossibly taut you were. 

“You know something,” he mused, like it was the calmest thing in the world, “you came so quick, didn’t you? Came once you had something fucking you, and it was so beautiful, honey…but I never got to hear you beg.” 

“Jake,” you whispered, his name the only word you could manage, the only thing you could say with his fingers brushing that spot and his mouth just a breath away from you. 

“Nah,” he said, his voice low, “I know you could do it so prettily. Won’t you do it for me, sweetheart, won’t you let me hear it? Let me make you cum again?”

He kissed you again, his mouth light and teasing, brushing caresses over your mound but not where you were aching, throbbing, for him. His fingers slowed, torturously, pushing you closer but not fast enough, and you felt your eyes filling again. What was he asking for?

What was anything, what did he need?

“Jake, please,” you gasped, your voice thick. “Please, please—”

“Please what, baby?” Jake asked, another soft kiss. “What do you need?”

“I need to cum,” you practically sobbed. “Please, need it so bad, please, Jake—need you so bad, need you to—”

“That’s right,” Jake practically growled, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. “You need me. And I’ve got you, honey, so you can let you go, since you asked so nicely, and I’m gonna take care of you…”

His forearm was banded across your waist, holding you still as his fingers found that spot inside of you, pressed up against it, and your thighs shook as your second orgasm bowled over you. Jake’s tongue was over your clit, then his lips closed, and when you thought you might be ready to let go of the high, he sucked, and you fully shattered. You could feel your nails raking into his back, feel his responding groans through the mouth still pressed to your cunt, as your world dissolved into white heat. It swept over you and you stopped trying to ride it, just let yourself be thrown, buffeted by Jake’s mouth, Jake’s fingers, Jake’s soft words.  

“Fucking gorgeous, baby, you did so good,” Jake was murmuring into the skin of your stomach. His fingers were still inside of you, gently rocking but no longer trying to stimulate you. It would’ve brought tears to your eyes, if they weren’t already streaming, how tender he was being with you. The whiplash was incredible—how quickly he’d brought you to orgasm, how easily he’d denied you, how thoroughly fucked out you were, now that he’d given it to you. 

God, and you hadn’t even had him yet. 

“Jake,” you croaked, your throat hoarse, and he lifted his head to look up at you. 

“What is it, honey?” he asked, voice soft. He was propped up on his elbows, and he shifted slightly, pulling his fingers out of you. You pressed your lips together to stop a whimper from escaping and trying to ignore how empty you felt, and watching quietly as he wiped his hands absently on his pajama pants before looking back up at you. 

You lifted a hand to brush away some of his hair that’d fallen into his face. You shifted slightly, pulling the hem of your tshirt down to wipe at his chin, clean him up a little. It was rough, not the intended purpose of the garment, and Jake laughed a little at the clumsiness of the action, pressing his jaw into your cotton-covered hand, to help you as you wiped at his face. 

You bit your lip, more to stop yourself from smiling so wide it made you hurt, looking down at him, propped up on his elbows 

He looked proud. 

He looked content, and it made your heart swell uncomfortably in your chest, that he’d look like that after taking care of you. But the longer you looked at him, something like doubt flickered behind his eyes and he cleared his throat, looking away. 

“If…” he started, and he shook his head, like he was clearing the fog after a night out. “Uh, you know, if that’s too much…or not what you wanted, or something, we can just say it was a distraction. You know, to get your mind off the tattoo.”

You hadn’t thought about the thing in what felt like a lifetime.

More importantly, you saw Jake still wasn’t meeting your eyes, like he expected you to say that that’s all this was, and he was worried you’d see too much if you were looking at him when you said it. It broke your heart, that he would push away his own repressed feelings, if it meant protecting yours. 

Although, to be fair, you’d both been more honest in the last thirty minutes than you’d been in the months before, so it was probably on you, as well as him. 

You carded your fingers through his hair again, waiting.

It took another couple seconds, but Jake steeled himself and looked back at you. 

You hadn’t realized you’d missed the green of them. 

In the height of everything, they’d been hooded and dark, the bright color nearly lost in his blown pupils. But like this, clear and sweet, you thought you might like this better. 

“It wasn’t too much,” you said, simply.

Jake’s shoulders dropped, just slightly, and you saw him wanting to contest it, and so you shook your head. 

“I think that’s a conversation for later,” you said gently, “when we’re both a little more clothed, hmm?”

“Oh,” Jake said, his head turning quickly as he looked around for your pajama shorts. “I can reach—”

You wanted to roll your eyes and you wanted to pinch him, just a little, to get him to listen to you. “That’s not what I meant,” you corrected. “I’m not…I’m not ready to be done. Besides, we han’t gotten you off yet.”

“Oh, that’s okay, that’s not what this was about,” Jake said quickly and you tilted your head, pushing yourself up to sitting. 

Jake was still between your spread knees, your faces close together now, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek, a quick reassurance before you reached between the two of you. 

Jake jumped when your hand slid over the front of his pajama pants, and you felt like cooing. Even through the thick cotton, you felt him respond to your touch. The fabric had to be adding to the illusion, because he felt enormous under the flannel. 

And it was very gentlemanly that this was for you, that he didn’t want this to be a thing about reciprocity, but in a much more tangible way, he’d made you feel infinite, just a few minutes ago. If you could do the same for him, you imagined you’d probably feel just as proud as he had, to see you come undone.

“What’d you say,” you asked innocently, your fingers trailing up the length of him, “about distracting me?”

When you looked back up at Jake, his eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slowly, deliberate, like he was holding his breath. 

Sweet man. 

You leaned back up to kiss him gently, waiting for him to kiss you back. It took only a moment, and you bit back a moan at the taste of yourself on his lips. You kissed him softly for a minute, gentle lips, gentle tastes, coaxing. When you pulled back, Jake’s lashes fluttered before he opened his eyes to look at you. 

“I don’t know,” you lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I think I’d be pretty distracted if I were choking on your dick, Jake.”

“Jesus,” Jake whispered, and his hips bucked into your touch. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to–”

You licked your lips, his words from earlier coming back to you. “Nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming about for months.”

Jake surged forward, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you to him. You tasted his longing in this kiss, the tight reins he held himself in check with, and how desperately he wanted to give them to you, if only for a moment. You wanted that, and maybe for a little longer. So you kissed him for a moment more, then slid off the couch, settling between his knees like before, but this time, he stayed with his back against the back of the couch, and you were on the ground. 

“Wait,” he said, leaning over to grab a pillow, and gesturing for you to use it under your knees.  

Forget rolling your eyes or pinching him, did you want to marry him?

You shook the thought out of your head, settling on the cushion and reaching up to help Jake slide the pajama pants down. He hooked his boxer briefs along with them, and once they slid past his hips, his cock sprang free. 

“Holy fuck, Seresin,” you whispered, looking up at his face. Jake shrugged, a kind of bashful you hadn’t seen him before. One of his hands fisted his cock loosely, like he needed something to do, and you reached up to pry his fingers away. 

No wonder he walked around like he did. 

As you wrapped your hands around him, replacing his fingers, you couldn’t deny a fresh wave of arousal washed over you. His wasn’t the longest dick you’d seen, but he was thick, a dusty rose color that you’d kill for a lipstick match of—which just made you think of why you were waiting so long to get him in your mouth. 

But he’d teased you, and when you glanced up at Jake, his hands clenched at his sides, his stomach tight, you figured he was due for a taste of his own medicine. 

You kissed up his thighs slowly, loving the contrast of wiry hair over smooth skin, and when you got to his cock, you let out a warm breath over the tip. As you watched, a smooth drop of precum appeared at the edge of his cock, and you frowned in mock sympathy, knowing how worked up he must’ve been from finishing you, while denying himself. 

“Bet you’d beg something pretty yourself, Jake,” you teased softly, licking at the drop of moisture and pulling his salty taste back into your mouth. You hummed, immediately salivating for more, but Jake’s hips jerked up as he choked in a breath.

“Darlin’...” he said, his voice low, and you had mercy on him, not needing to hear the words to know how badly he wanted this. 

“Good thing I’m nicer than you, hmm?” you asked, before you licked at him again. 

Jake’s head fell back limply as you tongued his tip, teasing the sensitive head before you licked up the length of him. This was supposed to be for him, but as you were here, you were lost in the exploration of him—the gorgeous weight of him, the musky scent of him, the rich taste, and the sounds he was making. 

You kind of loved how quiet he was being, when it was clearly costing him dearly. 

It meant that when he did burst, it was going to be loud, and you wanted that break. You kissed your way lightly back to his tip, before opening your mouth and pulling him in. 

You’d been joking earlier, about it being distracting, but fuck. The ache to your jaw was immediate, your mouth open as wide as it could to accommodate his thickness. But it felt so good, deeply satisfying, to be able to hold him like this. Warm and thick in your mouth, stretching you—you moaned around him, imagining him filling you. You hollowed your cheeks lightly, sucking, and Jake groaned above you. 

There it was. 

You pushed yourself deeper onto him, holding your breath and fighting your gag reflex, and Jake’s hands shot out to hold the back of your head, his breath a low moan that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. 

You clenched your thighs together, the sound of him and the weight of him had you feeling so empty, while you knew you were physically stretching to your limits. You pulled off of him, a trail of saliva falling from between your lips and his tip, and Jake swore softly at the sight. 

“That mouth, baby,” he groaned, and you felt his thumb trace your lips, smearing your spit across it. You opened your mouth, holding out your tongue and Jake groaned again, feeding his cock back into your mouth.

You felt like he could see straight through you.

That was how it felt, his eyes boring into you as his cock stretched your jaw and his hips pressed slowly deeper. Your nostrils flared and your eyes were streaming again, but you wanted this, wanted him, wanted him to find his release in you, as you had in him. You couldn’t take him all the way down your throat, not now, although you relished the idea of training, so you found a rhythm that seemed to work for both of you. 

Jake’s hips rose slightly to meet you, as you bobbed your head up and down his length, alternating sucking and swirling your tongue over his tip. Your other hands stroked the part of him that you couldn’t fit, squeezing and pulling and you heard Jake’s breathing getting heavier. You were lightheaded, overwhelmed by him, but you couldn’t stop, not for something as simple as air. 

The stretch of him was so good, unrelenting and perfect, and the steadiness with which he held himself in check, it felt like a promise. It made your core ache, throbbing and empty, but you reached up to play with his balls. One of your hands cupped him lightly and then Jake was pulling you off of him. 

You choked at the sudden influx of air as Jake set you back on your thighs, his hands smoothing over your face as he checked you were okay. You couldn’t remember a time you’d felt better, lightheaded and dreamy, but you nodded obediently in answer to the unspoken question, and Jake pulled you to standing. You weren’t sure where he was taking you, but you knew with absolute certainty that you’d follow him.

Mercifully, it was just around the couch, and when you understood his plan, you whimpered slightly, hoping you could take it. You braced your forearms on the armrest of the coach, rocking back on your hips, presenting your ass to him, and Jake was already behind you, covering you. His long arms draped over yours, pressing you into the couch, even as his knee worked between your thighs, spreading your legs. You moaned when you felt his cock slap against your thighs, and one of Jake’s hands fell to between your legs to cup your cunt. 

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, voice somehow both rough and awed. “Is this new? You work yourself up, getting me off?”

You meant to say ‘obviously, asshole’, or ‘as if you didn’t know it’, but what came out was a truly pathetic, “Jake, please…”

He chuckled, his body stretched over yours, and the sound broke off when he guided his cock towards your core. 

“Honey, you’re so wet and warm, fuck. Need to be in you, baby, need to feel this tight cunt—”

“Do it already,” you cried, rewarded by another deep laugh from Jake, and then you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, because that thick cock was pushing into you. 

It was a good thing he was holding you up. 

Your body was shaking to accommodate him, already loosened from your orgasms and his fingers, but the stretch still bordered on painful, and you dropped your head to your forearms as he pushed into you. You weren’t doing anything, you were simply there, letting him fuck into you slowly, and you couldn’t think of anywhere better to be. 

“Fuck, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake groaned, and you knew he was trying to go slow, but that didn’t make the stretch any more attainable.

“Need you,” you managed. “Please, Jake, want to be full—”

His hips slammed forward and you cried out as he bottomed out into you. 

You felt impaled, you felt him in your throat, you felt like this was everything you could want and you trembled but held him in you. You felt full, and it was so, so good.  

“Honey,” Jake gritted, “I’ve got to move, but I need to know you’re okay.”

“I’m good,” you whispered, “let me feel you.”

He groaned, another gorgeous iteration of that sound, and when he pulled back, you clawed at the edge of the couch. It was like he was shifting your center of gravity, but the pull was re-orienting. You had no choice but to surrender to it. 

Your whole universe was balanced on the edge of the sofa. 

Jake’s thick cock, stuffing you. Jake’s strong chest, pressed against your back, his arms holding you up, pulling you to him. Jake’s sweat, dripping off of him and onto you, sweet and sticky and heady. The pull and push of him, overwhelming and deep, remaking you. 

You weren’t going to cum from this; it was too much, but it was too good to stop. You’d already had yours, and you could hear how good it was for Jake, could feel it in the tight clench of his hands and the short length of his thrusts. 

Jake groaned, a throaty sound that jolted through you as he pulled you back onto his dick.

“Sweetheart you feel so good…is this what we’ve been missing out on? This tight as fuck cunt, that I can just feel clenching around me? Touch yourself, honey, I need to feel you come again, want to feel you come on my cock.”

You couldn’t be sure if you were crying or babbling, but when Jake told you to play with yourself, you summoned your boneless limbs to do as he asked. 

When your fingers brushed your clit, you immediately pulled back; it was too much. 

“I can’t,” you gasped, hands falling back to brace against the couch. “It’s too much, Jake, I can’t–”

“Poor baby,” Jake gritted, and one of his hands smoothed down your back before dipping around to your stomach and finding his way to your clit. Your knees buckled and your hips jerked away from his hand, but a moment later you were pressing into him, needing the perfect pain of his touch. 

“Honey, you’re doing so good,” Jake’s voice was tight. “God, you feel unreal, clenching down on me like that. Are you gonna cum again? Is this pussy going to cum for me?” 

“Jake,” you sobbed, his name the only prayer you could manage.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothed, his touch gentling, even as his hips sped up. “I’m almost there; I know you are too. Where can I come, honey, where do you want me–”

“Jake,” you moaned, your head thrashing from side to side. It was too much, it wasn’t enough, but you knew you needed him. “In me…please..Jake...”

“Holy fuck,” Jake groaned. “Baby, are you sure I–”

You bucked back into him, the thought of losing his heat and his presence nearly unbearable. “Need you,” you whimpered. “Jake, please–”

“I’m right here,” Jake’s hips pistoned impossibly faster. “Fuck, I’m here, I’ve got you. Shit, honey, you feel so good, you’re gonna make me cum, baby, please–”

He ground his hips deep into you and rolled his fingers over your clit once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out and you felt Jake grunt as he caught you, his hips pounding into you a couple more times and he stilled with another beautiful moan as he pumped his release into you. You felt him, hot and pulsing inside of you, and you wanted to curl up into that feeling forever—warm, full, safe. 

Jake summoned some kind of strength as he turned the both of you, him settling onto the ground and you on his lap, your cunt clenching around him, like you still couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving. You turned into his chest, and Jake wrapped his arms around you, cradling you, somehow knowing how intense that had been and that you needed the warmth of his chest before you could come back down. 

You were shaking, incredibly exhausted but deeply satisfied. And as you drifted back, you became aware of the tangible things around you—Jake’s chest hair prickling your face. Stranger Things still playing, on the TV. The cool air in the room around you, the sticky remains between your thighs. 

You lifted your head to find Jake looking down at you, his expression careful, like he was worried what he’d see. Your eyes closed again, and you managed a smile before you turned your face into his chest again, pressing a kiss to whatever was closest. His hands were locked around your back, but you could feel his thumb brushing over your skin, lightly. And it was wild, that that was what had started this all, and if you’d had the energy for it, you would’ve laughed. 

You could deal with the repercussions later, what this meant for your roommate situation, if your thigh was any worse for wear, any of that. Because that motion, that comforting gesture that Jake didn’t even seem to be aware he was doing—that meant that this was always where you were gonna end up. 

//

tagging: @bradshawsbitch @callsign-fangirl @laracrofted @datemephoenix @mandylove1000 @withahappyrefrain @gigisimsonmars @babyonboardfloyd @blue-aconite @mxgyver @hangmanbrainrot @lt-bradshaw @wildbornsiren @fuckyeahhangman @double-j @sebsxphia @javihoney @jadore-andor @teacupsandtopgun @thedroneranger

[veryconnoisseurcherryblossom]

Teasing Hands

Summary: Rodimus gives you a lovely handjob and you give him a lovely facial.

Pairing: Rodimus/Reader

Fandom: Transformers

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Tags: Handjob, teasing, facial, Exhibitionism

Ao3 link is here.

“S-squeeze tighter, Rod- Aaahn!” You bit your derma to try and hold back a loud moan, barely succeeding. Your fans let Rodimus know much he’s affecting you, though- they’re on max setting and loud. Your hips falter for a nanoklik before thrusting at a more frantic pace. Eventing sharply, you turn your head to look at Rodimus with hazy, flickering optics, drool leaking out from the corner of your intake.

“Fr-frag, I- Roddy-”

You barely get the words out when he smiles at you innocently, as if his servo wasn’t wrapped around your spike, as if you weren’t desperately thrusting into his servo with abandon. Your vocalizer glitches and stutters when he begins to lazily rub the very tip with his thumb, pulling a staticky whine from you.

“Mm? What’s up, sweetspark?”

His face might have been the picture of innocence, but his gorgeous bright blue eyes shows how he feels- smug and mischievous, no doubt enjoying how he’s able to get you to this point, almost begging him to let you overload. 

“Pl-please- please, I-I’m so close-”

Another whine rips through your vocalizer, your head falling back as you grit your denta. Primus, you were so, so close-

“M-mah- blowjob! L-let me finish on, in your- intake, face-!”

Almost babbling into hysterics as you plead with your lover, you hear him chuckle. Another whine emerges from you when his servo leaves your spike. You could cry, you almost did- until Rodimus quickly, forcibly turned you around and knelt in front of you and quickly took your spike back into his grip. When he swiped his glossa over the weeping tip, you had to choke back a sob. When you looked down, Rodimus was all smiles, his pretty mouth just in front of your spike.

Hips thrusting once more, you bite your derma to keep yourself from making desperate, needy moans as his grip once more tightens, his glossa lapping at the head of your spike. If you look down, you could see your biolights blink rapidly, showing that you were on the cusp of an overload.

“Come on, sweetspark- I want you to cover me.”

The combination of Rodimus’ dirty talk and the ensuing image of his face covered in transfluid, your transfluid, pushed you over the edge with a cry. A thick rope of glowing pink fluid shot into his open, accepting mouth. You grab your spike and press it against his cheek, the next spurt landed just above his right optic. Smearing it across his face, you finish overloading on his left cheek with a moan.

Feeling your stabilizing servos wobble, you quickly lean against the wall to keep yourself from toppling over, your spike retreating back into your modesty panel. Rodimus smirked before he licked his lips and swallowed. The sight caused you to exvent- you loved the sight of Rodimus covered in your transfluid. Marking him as yours.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Not needing to be told twice, you raised a finger to your temple, a sign between you and Rodimus that you were doing something on your HUD. Specifically, taking a photo. Rodimus smirked as he posed for you, the transfluid slowly dripping down his face. After taking a few photos, you reach into your subspace and pull out a soft cleaning rag.

“Aw, I was hoping I’d get to show off.”

Snorting at Rodimus’ whine, you lower yourself down and begin to wipe his face gently.

“Ultra Magnus will have a saprk attack and lecture you while Megatron will sigh and look at you with disapproval.”

Thinking for a second, you continue, finishing cleaning Rodimus’ face.

“I’ll send you the pics to show Drift?”

Before Rodimus could answer, you pull him in for a kiss. You can faintly taste your transfluid on his derma and glossa as you deepen the kiss, swirling your glossa around his. You can hear his engine rev loudly.

“Gotta go, I’ll be late for my shift. See you later, captain.”

Giggling as you got up and walked away, you didn’t need to look back to know how Rodimus looked. He would be looking at you with want in his optics, biting his lip. He’d also be looking a little shocked at how casually you left him on the floor of his office. But, this was the game you both played, and you knew he would repay it ten times more later when you both retreated to his habsuit for the night.

Oh yes, you could not wait.

[neowinestainedress]

Hellooo rebs, i’m back!!

you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this and I’m so happy to finally know your opinion.

Omg I feel even worse now i really made you wait so much, i’m really sorry ☹

graduation is close and I don’t know if I’ll be able to see the dream so manifest for me, pls.

YOU ARE GRADUATING SOON???? OH MY GOOD IM SOOOOO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!!!!!!!! and don’t worry i’m 100% sure you will be able to see them, sending you all my positive energy to you<3

And you saw 127???? So close to the stage??? How was it???

LISTEN i've been the MOST annoying person about it on my cf like the amount of things i've posted about the concert someone needs to stop me😭 but i really can't describe the happiness i felt during that concert like i'm really in this nct shit for life... THE ARE SO SO SO PRETTY AND UNREAL?? I HAD TO STOP EVERY 5 SECONDS AND SAY TO MYSELF "WAIT THEY ARE REAL AND I'M SEEING THEM IRL" their voices are also INSANE they're truly SINGERS. ALSO of course i already knew how beautiful they are but TAEYONG??? LEE TAEYONG WTF? HE´S TOO.FUCKING.PRETTY NO CAMERA CAN CAPTURE WHAT MY EYES SAW LIKE HIS BEAUTY OMG? I DON'T THINK ENOUGH PEOPLE TALK ABOUT IT (this opinion is totally unbiased, he's not even my (main?) bias wrecker) LIKE I FUCKING GET IT i get why he's the center.

About my experience... I GOT NOTICED BY JAEHYUN AND JOHNNY 😭😭😭😭 the johnny one i even have the video: i screamed "JOHNNYYYYYY" and he looked straight at ME and you can hear the girls around me saying OMG HE LOOKED AT YOU + i also have a pic where he is (kinda? at least with an eye shfkdjskfk) looking at my phone while they were singing highway to heaven (one of mark too 😳while they were singing promise you if i remember correctly). Now about jaehyun... taeil was saying his ment and there was like a 2 seconds pause of complete silence so i screamed "JAEHYUNNNNNNN", he was looking the other way so he turned his head and looked at me (i'm sure he only saw my silhouette since he's blind) for a second and i was so SHOCKED that i tried to take a picture, video or ANYTHING but when i checked they were blurry or i was pointing at the floor or similar but i PROMISE it actually happened 😭 the girls around me saw it too. And the last important thing that happened to me: I GOT A PIECE OF TAEYONG'S SHIRT 😭😭 i have the video of that moment cause they were saying their ments when suddenly taeyong took his shirt off and it landed like 3 people away from me so everyone who were in front of us backed off? at that moment i swear i thought i was going to die we literally had to held hands with the people beside me to make a human wall?? and not falling backwards. Then the concert ended and i got trapped in the circle around the girl who had the shirt i was literally being choked and my haechan banner got all wrinkle because of it :( my hand even got stuck in a girls jacket and because of that i got to touch a big piece of shirt that the girl gave to a boy (he was trying to give little pieces to everyone but no one had something sharp to cut it) and i touched the tag of the shirt (it was from the collar-shoulder part)... a minute later they were able to cut the shirt and the boy saw me struggling and said here! and gave me a little piece... the funny thing was that a girl beside who also got a piece said that it smelled good so i was like "..." and i smelled it and it smelled so good (a mixture between fabric softener and like a clean male perfume?) later on i realized the piece had like a yellow stain on it so i guess that was taeyong's sweat 😭😭... and basically that was my concert experience (i'm ignoring the fact that i couldn't see haechan AGAIN like you don't imagine how sad i was when i found out he wasn't coming (AGAIN) because he was sick (i actually didnt care he wasn't coming i was just so fucking sad that he was (and still) is sick i was so worried... so i'm gaslighting myself that haechan is just part of my imagination and that's why he didn't come)

ANYWAYS back to business: THE TRAITOR SERIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The whole problem was that Hyuck took her for granted and didn’t cherish her anymore because she was always going to be there (in his mind)

and FUCK HIM for that!

NOOOO this is another reminder that your ex is not Haechan he's not worth it

trust me i know how much of an asshole he is like he even had the audacity to greet me for my birthday...

it would’ve turned toxic for him at some point, while now they can be friends (they are, they actually have a double date every Saturday, I know I'm the sky)

it kinda was toxic already so PEOPLE DO YOU REALLY LOVE JENO??? DO YU REALLY WANT THAT FOR HIM? and i can confirm they are friends i'm actually the floor

No cause mood ??? the first what are we? from him and I'll be like Idk your dog? That’s fine by me

LITERALLY ME i could be whatever he wants me to be if that means i get railed by him!

Yeah… ‘I don’t like that falling feels like flying til the bone crush’ and so you never even try to fly…

STOP WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS😭😭😭

HELP NOT ME HAVING YOUR LIFE WRITTEN DOWN FOR THE WHOLE WORLD TO READ

I FEEL EXPOSED SHFDJKSHFK NO BUT REALLY HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO KNOW MY ENTIRE LIFE

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero… I guess

you know when taylor said "i'll do anything to bring up selena gomez ANYTHING!" that's us but with taylor and LOVE it

You dragging #teamjeno in the mud for me because I can’t say anything /j No but seriously, she never loved him. Liked him? Sure. Was she comfortable with him? Yes. But a relationship that was as deep as he wanted it to be? Absolutely nope.

At the end of the day it's me, haechan and mc againts the world (team jeno)...

I thought that especially with this it was clear that she wasn’t the naïve little girl at the start and knew what she was doing but apparently it wasn’t clear enough idk

AND IT WAS CLEAR i just think some people were a bit too biased for jeno and blinded by their hate for haechan that they kinda ignored that mc actually changed for better and she wasn't the same girl from the start

This is so funny because I wrote this last part thinking about your reactions (I’m sorry) and the main reason I had to lead them both so much and drag her decision for so long was because I wanted to keep you on the edge I’M SO SORRY

YOU ARE ACTUALLY THE EVIL IN PERSON AND I LOVE YOU BECAUSE OF THAT! like i know i'm all dramatic shaking and crying and with my stomach full of knots and shit but sometimes you just need a good lil angst also there's this quote we use in spanish as a meme: "el que tenga miedo a morir que no nazca" (whoever is scared to die might as well not be born) which i think fits exactly with this!

Unfortunately it’s not always easy to do the right thing, and I think outer people shouldn’t judge if someone has a hard time getting out of a bad relationship. We are human after all and we don't always love what is good for us

RIGHT! i get this is a ff so you could have made the characters perfect with a perfect ending but that's not how it works irl and that's why i loved even more this series because i could actually relate to all the characters even if it was a little bit. if you want something not realistic GO READ A FANTASY FIC OR SOMETHING AND STFU (i was writing this and haechan just sent messages on bubble... he literally said FUCK EVERYONE WHO IS #TEAMJENO!!)

I KNEW YOU WERE GOING TO HAVE A MENTAL BREAKDOWN IN THIS PART I WILL PAY THERAPY

ARE MAKING FUN OF MY PAIN AM I JOKE TO YOU REBS???

I FEEL LIKE SHIT NOW MAYBE THERAPY IS NOT ENOUGH CAN I SEND YOU HAECHAN AT HOME AS PAYBACK?

EXACTLY that's the ONLY way i'm forgiving you

In my mind this story was much bigger than just #teamjeno or #teamhaechan, it wouldn’t have been fair for Jeno if she chose him out of spite and it would’ve been toxic if she took Haechan back immediately without making it clear that she now knew her value and as much as she loved him she wouldn’t have started crawling on the floor to get some attention. I know everyone is entitled to have their own opinion and I respect that, it just makes me a bit sad when people don’t get her character (like I don’t even care about being team Jeno or Haechan) is just that I can’t sit here and read that MY BABY is weak or a loser, she WAS a loser in 'enough for you' but I’m sure I gave her a character development. I think it's fine to not agree with her choice, probably if I was in her situation in real life I would've picked Jeno (honestly, I would've been alone because why would I date someone that loves me while I don't love them back?) but this is fiction, it's made up, and people can change truly unlike people irl so I don't see nothing wrong with giving chances in a story even if you wouldn't do the in the real world. Like you are the first example, what have I been saying to you? Don't let your ex put you down and don't take him back if 80% of the time you end up being hurt in some way, and your story is almost a copy of theirs.

i totally get your idea that the story was bigger than any team and i agree. to me this series were about the fact they were humans and they fuck things up just like us (some more than others i'm looking at you haechan...) but they also got to learn about their mistakes and weakness and as i said before even tho i was rooting for haechan (since he's my bias and i literally requested a fic about him) i would have been happy with the ending even if she picked jeno or ended up alone because i think every ending had a positive and negative side and especially since you developed so well the characters i grow fond of them that i felt like they were my own friends<3 and also FUCK WHOEVER INSULTS OUR BABY!!! i will fight EVERYONE if that means i'm defending her!!!!!!!!! and yes people need to relax a bit and realize this isn't real life this is just a fanfic and anything can happen. Let people dream!!! as you know my story was very similar to this so PLEASE let me be happy and let mc pick haechan since i didn't get back with my ex (the only good decision i made honestly sjhxdsjkf)

It’s Haechan if he wants he can have me on a leash I wouldn’t complain (just kidding… unless). Can’t relate i’m too lazy you won’t catch these words slip from my mouth (with Haechan…maybe…MAYBE)

for haechan i would do ANYTHING idc i'm a simply girl i see haechan and i simp

And now the general reply (we both write so much help)

i literally started writing this at 1 am and now is 3:04 am... (update: i finished at 4:15 am)

It makes me so happy to know you loved it so much, mainly because I unknowingly wrote so much about you (it’s creepy but cute at the same time). I’ll be honest with you, I wrote this part for you.

STOP YOU'RE MAKING ME BLUSH AND CRY RIGHT NOW. you don't know how happy this fic made me feel (not me saying after crying 72642791527 times every time i read the series) but i swear i've never related so much to a character in my life, like her personality, friends, love story, everything was so similar to what happened to me so it was really comforting to be able to feel so much while reading it, this fic literally gave me the opportunity to feel sad for myself because it kinda was like reading my story but from another point of view? so i let myself cry whenever i felt like it (instead of what i did when this happened to me irl, i mean ofc i cried back then but after a week maybe? i didn't let myself cry anymore because i felt i was being too dramatic and ridiculous so yeah i'm sorry if this sounds too narcissistic i promise i'm not) really, THANK YOU SO MUCH REBS i can't explain how thankful i am for this, truly

At first, I was very tore between Jeno and Haechan but then I went with my heart (Jeno wasn’t even supposed to be a love interest, it just happened) and then I wanted to make it like you, the one who requested it, wanted it. I know it reached a lot of people (too many, I wasn’t expecting so much love for this fic and series) but without you, I wouldn’t have ever written it so in my mind it was like a gift to you because I poured so much love into these three (+ special Renjun mention, he will always be famous) so I owed you a happy ending.

REBS STOP YOU WILL MAKE ME CRY YOU'RE SO SO SO SO SWEET I DON'T DESERVE YOU. Seriously, thank you so much for taking the time to write what i asked for (really, how cool and sweet is that<3). You're such a talented writer and every fic that i've read from you is a masterpiece, you never fail to make me feel so many emotions. finding you was the best thing EVER! and the fact that you could have even killed mc if you wanted but you decided to make me happy OH IM REALLY ABOUT TO CRY the more i think of it the more i want to cry this is literally the sweetest things someone has ever made for me. You literally didn't owe me anything so again THANK YOU SO MUCH I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO EXPRESS HOW THANKFUL I AM and yes RENJUN YOU WILL ALWAYS BE THE BEST CHARACTER YOU'RE LITERALLY A STAR!

I’d love to read the Spanish rant but my Spanish is in very critical condition so let’s stick to English, trust me I can feel how much you love this. Just taking so much time to send me such a detailed analysis makes me so happy and I feel so full of love, I don’t think you truly get how much I loved reading your comments through the whole series and yes, I’m sad too it ended ☹ But I’m happy you got everything I wanted to convey, I knew you would’ve understood my baby (babies… all three of them I love them all for different reasons)

trust me you can't even understand the magnitude of my love and gratitude i feel towards you and this series if i could kiss your brain right now i would!!! and don't worry i won't go anywhere and i will keep annoying you with my very long comments and supporting all your works (i have so much to catch on btw). only hot people got the message you wanted to convey (jk i'm actually the opposite of hot i'm the ugliest person in this planet). and yes they're also MY BABIES (i love them all so much)

I hope you’ll love my future fic as well (+ remember that ask you sent about academic rivals to lovers? I might have started to write it, it will surely take some time but I love the idea too much to don’t even give it a try and maybe this one won’t break your heart so much) and I have two other Haechan fics planned (one it’s almost done and the other is still in the drafts) so I hope you'll like them too.

OFC I WILL REBS! WHAT.THE.FUCK.ARE.YOU.KIDDING.ME??? ?)(/)&%$8%#E4 I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THAT IM SO EXCITED NOW!!!! and don't worry you can break my heart all you want with your fics because it will always be worthy since they are literally perfect. TWO OTHER HAECHAN FICS TOO?? OMG I MUST HAVE SAVED THE WORLD IN MY PAST LIFE OR SOMETHING

ps: it's YOUR fault my Haechan fever worsened because now I can only write about him

hehe what can i say i guess my spread haechan (obsession) to the world agenda worked! like that man has me on a chokehold that i can only think about him

ALSO one last thing that i wanted to say in relation to that anon... i think people are projecting too much in a silly little fic<3 (i'm the one to talk lmaoo but LISTEN). i know i also projected in the characters since as i said before i related a little too much, but at the end of the day i know this is a fic and they are not real and what i read is what happened and that's it like if it says haechan was trying to gain her back THAT'S WHAT IT WAS HE WASN'T MANIPULATING HER TO LIKE HIM BACK LIKE FROM WHERE DID YOU GET THAT??? IT'S NOT LIKE HE HAD AN EVIL PLAN BEHIND HER BACK OR SOMETHING. HAVE YOU NEVER LIKED SOMEONE BEFORE? i can totally like someone and do sweet things for them because i care about them so i'm trying to make them feel special and show them how much they mean to me and hopefully they like me back after seeing my efforts so tell me anon please enlighten me in what way is that manipulating to you? like why would the end be dark i truly don't get it... especially since they really talked about what happened to me, what he wanted, how they felt, etc., and as you (rebs) said he even accepted the fact that he couldn't force her to take him back so he let her go.

okay that was it, it kinda pissed me off so i'm sorry if i sounded rude lol (i was actually trying to be /hj)

take care rebs, wishing you have a good week, thank you again so much, ilysm<3

-💌

Hi, again!!! And noooo, don't feel sorry, I was just really curious to know about your opinion but I know life gets busy and also you give such detailed feedback I'd rather wait for it than get nothing at all, so it's fine.

Yeah... my graduation is the day of the pre-sale for the dream concert ASK ME IF I HATE MY LIFE? I hope there will be something left for the 3rd

BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT YOU?!?!?!? I'm so so happy you got to have fun at this concert and that it didn't end up in a mess like the other time. Also are you Miss y/n??? Noticed by Johnny, Jaehyun and go a piece of Taeyong's shirt??? You were collecting them all I'm screaming for you

Taeyong IS crafted by God himself like I know, actually I was there when he was creating him. The most handsome man on earth I'm sorry, he's just perfect.

(i'm sure he only saw my silhouette since he's blind)

I’M SCREAMING HE GIVES YOU THE Y/N TREATMENT AND YOU REPAY HIM LIKE THIS AJDDJFOS

OMYGOD YOU GOT A PIECE OF THE SHIRT YOU WERE AMONG THE ONES BLESSED BY GOD I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU it reminds me of when I had to fight for my life to get the signed ball during The Origin, to be honest, I grabbed it but two girls RIPPED it away from my hands and I almost fell so I was like ‘nah, not risking my life for a signed ball’, my friend that came with me is still pissed about it lmao. At least the guy next to you was nicer.

No but it’s true you didn’t get to see Hyuck TWICE!!! LORD THAT WOULD BE MY VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY AAAAA (plot twist: you'll meet him casually one day and he will fall in love) And yes, the last hiatus worried me so much, like heart's problems and sm wasn't doing anything??? Why do they always end up in those conditions to get some rest (and... rest, now... I don't want to talk about it or I'll be MAD)

Now let's get into the happier madness

trust me i know how much of an asshole he is like he even had the audacity to greet me for my birthday...

I wouldn’t wish that upon my worst enemy unless of course, we’re talking about my enemy 💌 anon’s ex, fuck you 💌 anon’s ex, you KNOW what you did

it kinda was toxic already so PEOPLE DO YOU REALLY LOVE JENO??? DO YU REALLY WANT THAT FOR HIM? and i can confirm they are friends i'm actually the floor

RIGHT??? you and me two agents undercover in the sour universe like perry the platypus

I FEEL EXPOSED SHFDJKSHFK NO BUT REALLY HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO KNOW MY ENTIRE LIFE

Cause I’m a mastermind? Cause I’m just insane? Guess we will never know

you know when taylor said "i'll do anything to bring up selena gomez ANYTHING!" that's us but with taylor and LOVE it

No cause why is this true??? It’s so embarrassing (no, not really I’m proud and it’s not our fault she has a song for EVERYTHING)

AND IT WAS CLEAR i just think some people were a bit too biased for jeno and blinded by their hate for haechan that they kinda ignored that mc actually changed for better and she wasn't the same girl from the start

Yeah I think that too at this point because especially after re-reading some bits through your aks I’m SURE I made everything clear

YOU ARE ACTUALLY THE EVIL IN PERSON AND I LOVE YOU BECAUSE OF THAT! like i know i'm all dramatic shaking and crying and with my stomach full of knots and shit but sometimes you just need a good lil angst also there's this quote we use in spanish as a meme: "el que tenga miedo a morir que no nazca" (whoever is scared to die might as well not be born) which i think fits exactly with this!

SORRY NOT SORRY AND YES!! I totally agree and the quote fits perfectly

RIGHT! i get this is a ff so you could have made the characters perfect with a perfect ending but that's not how it works irl and that's why i loved even more this series because i could actually relate to all the characters even if it was a little bit. if you want something not realistic GO READ A FANTASY FIC OR SOMETHING AND STFU (i was writing this and haechan just sent messages on bubble... he literally said FUCK EVERYONE WHO IS #TEAMJENO!!)

Haechan might avoid every concert you go to but when it’s time to be against #teamjeno he’ll be LOUD AND CLEAR love him for that

ARE MAKING FUN OF MY PAIN AM I JOKE TO YOU REBS???

I could never 😌😌😌 I just deeply thought of you while planning your digital and emotional murder

i totally get your idea that the story was bigger than any team and i agree. to me this series were about the fact they were humans and they fuck things up just like us (some more than others i'm looking at you haechan...) but they also got to learn about their mistakes and weakness and as i said before even tho i was rooting for haechan (since he's my bias and i literally requested a fic about him) i would have been happy with the ending even if she picked jeno or ended up alone because i think every ending had a positive and negative side and especially since you developed so well the characters i grow fond of them that i felt like they were my own friends<3 and also FUCK WHOEVER INSULTS OUR BABY!!! i will fight EVERYONE if that means i'm defending her!!!!!!!!! and yes people need to relax a bit and realize this isn't real life this is just a fanfic and anything can happen. Let people dream!!! as you know my story was very similar to this so PLEASE let me be happy and let mc pick haechan since i didn't get back with my ex (the only good decision i made honestly sjhxdsjkf)

I knew you could see the vision. It's kinda like the folklore triangle, three young people trying to navigate life and their feelings and their own persona and it's obvious someone is going to get hurt. But the important thing is to talk about it and make sure nobody is hurting anymore. And yeah, mc get behind me I will fight for you til the day I die.

STOP YOU'RE MAKING ME BLUSH AND CRY RIGHT NOW. you don't know how happy this fic made me feel (not me saying after crying 72642791527 times every time i read the series) but i swear i've never related so much to a character in my life, like her personality, friends, love story, everything was so similar to what happened to me so it was really comforting to be able to feel so much while reading it, this fic literally gave me the opportunity to feel sad for myself because it kinda was like reading my story but from another point of view? so i let myself cry whenever i felt like it (instead of what i did when this happened to me irl, i mean ofc i cried back then but after a week maybe? i didn't let myself cry anymore because i felt i was being too dramatic and ridiculous so yeah i'm sorry if this sounds too narcissistic i promise i'm not) really, THANK YOU SO MUCH REBS i can't explain how thankful i am for this, truly

It makes me so happy to know that somehow – unconsciously – I helped you and especially that you finally let go of all the emotions you held back. I feel you because I also go overdramatic when something happens and then pretend everything is fine but yeah, not the healthiest thing ever...

REBS STOP YOU WILL MAKE ME CRY YOU'RE SO SO SO SO SWEET I DON'T DESERVE YOU. Seriously, thank you so much for taking the time to write what i asked for (really, how cool and sweet is that<3). You're such a talented writer and every fic that i've read from you is a masterpiece, you never fail to make me feel so many emotions. finding you was the best thing EVER! and the fact that you could have even killed mc if you wanted but you decided to make me happy OH IM REALLY ABOUT TO CRY the more i think of it the more i want to cry this is literally the sweetest things someone has ever made for me. You literally didn't owe me anything so again THANK YOU SO MUCH I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO EXPRESS HOW THANKFUL I AM and yes RENJUN YOU WILL ALWAYS BE THE BEST CHARACTER YOU'RE LITERALLY A STAR!

me rn:

only hot people got the message you wanted to convey (jk i'm actually the opposite of hot i'm the ugliest person in this planet). and yes they're also MY BABIES (i love them all so much)

WRONG I’M SURE YOU’RE THE PRETTIES HOTTEST BESTEST like a good person like you can’t be ugly outside and I'm always right

OFC I WILL REBS! WHAT.THE.FUCK.ARE.YOU.KIDDING.ME??? ?)(/)&%$8%#E4 I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THAT IM SO EXCITED NOW!!!! and don't worry you can break my heart all you want with your fics because it will always be worthy since they are literally perfect. TWO OTHER HAECHAN FICS TOO?? OMG I MUST HAVE SAVED THE WORLD IN MY PAST LIFE OR SOMETHING

I COULDN’T FORGET ABOUT IT BUT BACK THEN I WAS TOO BURNED OUT TO EVEN THINK ABOUT IT AND NOW IT'S (SLOWLY) COMING TO LIFE. And yeah, I personally love the one that I think will be the next fic to come out and it's my first time writing Haechan as a good person through the whole story lmao

hehe what can i say i guess my spread haechan (obsession) to the world agenda worked! like that man has me on a chokehold that i can only think about him

YES YES IT'S WORKING. He's always been a bias but he was minding his business but NOOO now I'm into a spiral of madness

ALSO one last thing that i wanted to say in relation to that anon... i think people are projecting too much in a silly little fic<3 (i'm the one to talk lmaoo but LISTEN). i know i also projected in the characters since as i said before i related a little too much, but at the end of the day i know this is a fic and they are not real and what i read is what happened and that's it like if it says haechan was trying to gain her back THAT'S WHAT IT WAS HE WASN'T MANIPULATING HER TO LIKE HIM BACK LIKE FROM WHERE DID YOU GET THAT??? IT'S NOT LIKE HE HAD AN EVIL PLAN BEHIND HER BACK OR SOMETHING. HAVE YOU NEVER LIKED SOMEONE BEFORE? i can totally like someone and do sweet things for them because i care about them so i'm trying to make them feel special and show them how much they mean to me and hopefully they like me back after seeing my efforts so tell me anon please enlighten me in what way is that manipulating to you? like why would the end be dark i truly don't get it... especially since they really talked about what happened to me, what he wanted, how they felt, etc., and as you (rebs) said he even accepted the fact that he couldn't force her to take him back so he let her go.

Yes!!! that’s exactly what I don’t understand. Their story was definitely toxic before but then they cut it off and grew. I feel like manipulation is such a heavy word to use in this context that's why I would’ve liked at least an insight of their view to at least try to understand where it was coming from because that’s not how I write manipulative characters. HAVE YOU NEVER LIKED SOMEONE BEFORE? Is sending me but yeah when you love someone you try to do everything to prove it, also she gave him the 'mission' to prove her he still loved her, if she would’ve said ‘no, you can’t try to win me back’ the first time they talked (seriously) again, he wouldn’t have done all that.

take care too, honey!!! love you ♡

[arent-i-the-fairest]

𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟

getting matching necklaces for you two to wear!

author’s note : pls matching necklaces (or matching anything, really) are so cute!! me and my friend just bought a pair recently and i adore them~! (≧∇≦）

(if the pics aren’t loading for you, i went ahead and put what they are next the boys’ names hehe)

idia shroud — yin and yang cat necklaces!

“idia, you good?” you asked, watching him become completely still and staring at his palms, where his half of the necklace sat. then the tips of his hair started to turn into a cute pink.

“all these c-cheesy romantic things you do are gonna kill me.” he finally spoke in a quiet voice. well, not that i’m upset about it, he whispered to himself with an awkward grin.

“i better go ahead and get you a coffin then, because i got a lot more things coming— i ordered some other matching things, like shirts, oh and—!” idia cuddled into his hoodie, excited (and kind of nervous at the same time) at what was in store for him.

idia’s not a big jewelry guy, but he does wear this surprisingly frequently! when he isn’t though, he has it on him in a pocket or something. he likes to play around with it when he’s in the middle of class, bored. it’s entertaining to him for some reason. but then again, anything other than listening to a teacher’s long-winded rambling is.

one time he accidentally lost it and cried on his bed for like two hours while ortho went out to hunt for it. and phew idia was so relieved when it was found, he can’t even express it or put it into words.

jade leech — mushroom necklaces!

“i love it.” jade gasped the second he saw it.

“oh, that was quick— i’m glad you like it though! i had a feeling you would, since you’re so interested in mushrooms and all.” you smiled, pulling the magnets apart and handing one of the necklaces to him.

he went ahead and asked for you to put it on him. “how does it look, dear? does it compliment me well?” he grinned. you giggled, nodding. “you’re lookin’ handsome, jade.”

wears it everyday, 24/7– and if for some reason he can’t, like if azul says it breaks mostro lounge uniform policy, jade will go and keep it safe in his room. (or just ignore it— i mean, if his brother can get away with wearing his tie all loose and shirt unbuttoned, he should be able to wear a little mushroom necklace)

it does look a little silly on him though— in a good, adorable way! it’s just that he looks so professional and then you see this little plastic mushroom hangin’ off his neck and can’t help but giggle, y’know? it’s precious!

very protective of it and always makes sure he knows where it is, this thing is never getting lost— and thank god, because this thing costed a pretty penny.

sebek — dragon necklaces!

“so, you humans symbolize your close bonds with necklaces?” sebek asked, analyzing the jewelry before grinning. “hmph! well, i must say, for a lowly human, you do have fine taste.”

“i’ll ignore the lowly human part— but thanks! i was thinkin’ about the fairy of thorns, and how she could turn into a dragon or something, then it led me to choosing this.”

sebek grinned. “hoho, so you’ve learned a thing about her! but there’s much more her highness could do, such as how she could wield flames of a bright gree—”

“sebeeek, i already know about that!” you whined. you told me about it for about the tenth time yesterday, you thought. “but anyways, there’s a phrase you haven’t said to me yet— just two words.”

he put his hand on his chin. “a phrase i should’ve said?” he hummed to himself before choking. “oh— OH!! i apologize for my discourtesy! human, i am grateful for your gift, THANK YOU!”

“n-no need to shout it!”

he likes it so much more than he admits, omg— he totally went to shove your gift in silver’s face and fanboyed about it to lilia (plus showed it off to like at least 3 random students who were just trying to pass by). but anyways, sebek wears it pretty often! and it looks so good on him too!!!

sebek is another one who will protect this thing like he’s gonna drop dead if he loses it. but on the off chance that he does lose it, he’s making people get up left and right to keep an eye out for it, while he himself goes around to check every crevice of the campus—

(also, he totally cried when he realized he didn’t know where it was lol)

[icallhimjoey]

Hand in marriage right now- THAT WAS AMAZING! Honestly I loved it so much, making me go giggle and kicking my feet ugh 😭, do you think there will be a possibility that there will be a part 2?

Love your works so much <3

ok so i obviously left a lot of room there for more, SO FINE here's another part (and if you want more, you're gonna have to let me know because i think i might be able to pull 5 parts out of this if i tried really hard) enjoy! (also pls know that i still feel weird writing wesley) (i have only ever seen pics of him) (thats all) (rewritten 19 nov 2023) Wordcount: 2.2K

Inevitable Sparks

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Oh, how the tables had turned.

Where before Wesley was always made to shut up about you, now it was Wesley who had to tell Joe that not everything he'd tell him involved or surrounded you.

"I'm actually not feeling great, I think the sushi I had last night was–" "Did you go for sushi with her?" Joe interrupted. "No..." Wesley narrowed his eyes at Joe. "I went with my dad." "Oh... yea, of course. Do you happen to know– like, does she like sushi?"

Wesley rolled his eyes at his friend who apparently, when it came to you, operated like he was in primary school still.

From a very specific angle, it was cute.

From all the other ways to look at it, it was mostly annoying and frankly a little pathetic, Wesley thought.

You and Joe had only met the one time at your flat, and you'd talked for a little while before you'd mingled with your other friends and had left Joe to join Wesley on the balcony from where he could just stare at you through the window.

You had seen Joe stare. You'd definitely noticed. But you'd also done your very best to pretend you hadn't been aware of it at all.

And Wesley had, to his dismay, seen all of it from up close and concluded that you were both terrible at this.

"I don't know, man. Ask her yourself." Wesley said, hoping to not become the middle man for the two of you, but entirely aware that, he probably already was.

"I would, if you gave me her number..." Joe tried, eyebrows high up on his face, giving his friend questioning eyes.

Wesley laughed, sat up and tried to imitate his friend's face as best he could. "Can you pass her this note to see if she like likes me?"

It was a dig at Joe, but it made him laugh heartily anyway.

"She's taking me to an exhibition tomorrow," Wesley then revealed. "You could book yourself a ticket and tag along, if you want," he shrugged, knowing you wouldn't mind it.

You'd more than not mind it, actually. Wesley was getting this bullshit from both sides.

"No, come on," Joe waved a hand at Wesley, frowning. "I wouldn't want to intrud– what time you guys heading over?" Joe cut in on himself as he'd whipped his phone out to check his schedule, making Wesley shake his head at him.

Joe was an idiot.

Meeting Wesley outside Kensington High Street station, he had let you know he was bringing a surprise, and you'd expected maybe a crunchie bar, or a hot cup of coffee.

You choked on your own spit when you saw him emerge from the station with Joe by his side.

"Joe loves the Design Museum," Wesley said when in your earshot, obviously sarcastic, but all three of you were smiling.

You were all entirely too aware of the situation at hand, but none of you called a spade a spade and just let the truth float in the air in between you.

"Yea? You into ASMR, Joe?" you asked, challenging him slightly.

Joe blinked his eyes and searched for the right words, the noises coming from his mouth a stumbling mess of various vowels.

Obviously, he had no idea what he was in for.

"We'll see, won't we?" Joe eventually replied, and you saw Wesley behind him with a furrowed brow and one corner of his mouth pulled out, shaking his head, and it made you giggle.

And Wesley had been right.

Joe hated every second of the Weird Sensation Feels Good exhibition; an immersive experience where you got to both experience and create ASMR-type visuals and audios.

You lived for this kind of stuff, and had paid for Wesley's ticket after being unable to talk him into tagging along without you getting it for him.

When you'd entered, you'd distanced yourself a little from the boys and wandered from padded space to padded space, soaking up information, learning about how brains worked, what triggers there were and eventually, you sat down at a table that held microphones, headphones and an array of brushes to use.

When you sat down and placed the clunky headphones over your ears, you saw Wesley and Joe wander in.

Wesley immediately gravitated towards an installation of hanging bags holding different substances to squish and grab, all of them meant to be satisfying.

Joe, on the other hand, saw the chair opposite you was empty, and made his way over to sit down.

"Hi," you said softly, smiling, unaware of the volume of your voice since you weren't able to hear yourself.

Joe just smiled and reached for the other pair of headphones to put on.

In front of you were two microphones, and you used a finger to tap at one. You heard nothing, but saw Joe flinch at the sound and it made you chuckle softly.

As playful payback, Joe did the same to the other, tapping it harder than you did, making you laugh louder as the noise of it consumed everything.

You were the first to take a brush, and you swiped it over your own microphone first before moving it to brush at his. Joe ducked his head into his shoulders at the sound and frowned deeply; his whole body cringed and he was quick to push your hand away from his mic.

"Is that meant to relax me?" Joe's angered confusion made you laugh.

You gave it another try, enjoying how strongly Joe reacted to it.

"That's infuriating," he concluded, but took hold of a brush himself, giving it another try at his own microphone, looking at it with disgust painting his features.

"Hate that. Hate it, hate it."

Joe had to take the headphones off.

You were well aware you were in a museum that was meant to solely relax people, but there were giggles stuck in your throat that you couldn't keep in. A blush creeping up your neck towards the apples of your cheeks that you couldn't stop.

Then Joe moved to your microphone, and you were immediately triggered.

Triggered the nice way.

The noise of the soft bristles against the mic sent tingles from your scalp, all the way down your spine, and for some reason, they ended at the backs of your thighs.

Fuck.

That was nice.

Too nice.

It was relaxing, but it was awkward, because this was Joe's doing and he was looking at you, intrigued at the effect it had.

"Is that working?" you could see the smile tugging at his cheeks, and you gave an embarrassed nod.

"Is it actually?" Joe's open-mouthed smile grew.

It was far too intimate a moment for the two of you to be having, Joe holding power over bodily responses you had like that in a public setting with Wesley in the room?

Not okay.

You looked over at Wesley who was then stood at a different headphone station and found him practically drooling as he was listening to something with his eyes closed.

"I think Wesley's too into this," you said as you removed your headphones and pointed, making Joe turn in his seat and suppress a laugh.

"That's... that's not right. Entirely inappropriate. Wesley, mate! Get a room, just for yourself,"

You noticed how every single thing Joe said made you blush and giggle, and you silently scolded yourself for it.

Get yourself together, woman.

You weren't 12 and not everything Joe said was funny.

Be an adult.

A grown up.

Behave.

You were lucky, because Joe hadn't even noticed in the slightest that your ears were glowing.

Oh, he'd noticed the giggles, but he had also been out to get them from you, so it didn't feel overdone.

He also didn't have time to think about what you were thinking, because every time he got close enough to talk to you, his mind ran at a million miles per hour to figure out how to work your phone number into the conversation.

What subtle comment or question could fall from his lips that would have you reach over for his phone to put your number in?

Add to that the fact that this museum held a lot of headphone-wearing and not a lot of room chitchat.

So instead, he settled for enjoying the view of you, for now.

A little while later, you had outstretched yourself on a grey fuzzy art piece that was meant to look like the inside of a brain next to Wesley, both in headphones, looking at a screen.

You were relaxed.

This exhibition was definitely living up to the name of it; it was all weird sensations, and it all felt good.

From across the room, Joe looked at the two of you, and he stared long enough for Wesley to eventually feel his friend's eyes on him.

Wesley furrowed his brow at Joe when they made eye contact, and a silent nonverbal conversation ensued.

He gave his chin a tiny nod upwards, asking Joe what he wanted from him. Joe copied his friend's frown, and nodded his head to the side, meaning for Wesley to move away from you. To make space for Joe.

Wesley looked at you for a second, and you seemed completely enthralled by what you were experiencing.

He decided that Joe wasn't allowed to disturb you.

You hadn't taken Wesley to this exhibition just so Joe could flirt with you, and in that moment, he felt protective over you the way he'd feel protective over a younger sister.

Wesley looked back at Joe and gave his head a tiny shake. It made Joe drop his head and groan in defeat.

Maybe you could go for a coffee after.

Or if he was lucky, a pint or two.

Joe could maybe get your phone number then.

Except he didn't, because the more he thought about it, the more he let his nerves grow until they formed a giant mountain Joe couldn't compete against.

Even when two people got up in a packed tube and you and Joe were quick to snag the seats, Joe still didn't muster up enough courage to casually ask for it.

And so when you had to part ways because you had to change for another line to make your way home, it was a quick simple 'see you later' for Joe, and the quickest of quick hugs for Wesley before you stepped off the train.

Wesley plopped down next to Joe and slapped him hard on the knee.

"Great job mate, glad you got her number," Wesley joked as Joe looked out the window behind him, giving you a small wave as the tube took off and he got a last glimpse of you walking down the platform.

"Just– could you please just give it to me?" Joe pleaded as he turned back to his friend, making Wesley laugh loudly.

"Absolutely not. I've introduced the two of you to each other. I've done my part."

However, what Wesley hadn't anticipated, is that you also needed Wesley's help.

The second you had service on your phone, you couldn't help but text him.

"saw you take a pic of us, i need it", quickly followed by, "for scientific purposes obvs".

The second Wesley had service on his phone, he read your message but waited until he was away from Joe to reply.

Wesley had, in fact, snuck a picture of you sat together on the tube. It was slightly blurry, and you'd both been looking up to check the tube map across from you - unnecessarily so, you both knew where you were going and where you needed to get off.

When Wesley sent the pic, you followed it up with, "give me his number", and Wesley let out the loudest most annoyed sigh he could pull from his lungs.

You were both useless.

He took a minute to think it over. He'd been so adamant he wasn't going to give Joe your number that it almost felt wrong to just hand you his. At the same time, he'd had enough of Joe's pestering and didn't need your harassment added into the mix. So, he thought of something to put all three of you out of misery.

You were zooming in on the blurry photo of you and Joe on the tube, thinking what a terrible photographer Wesley was, but how good the two of you looked together, when suddenly you got a notification.

You'd been added to a group chat called "two halfwits make a whole" and, curiously, the image of it was the one you'd just been staring at.

"What the..."

You opened the group chat and were met with an empty chat screen, Wesley's name and an unknown number at the top.

Joe.

Then a message from Wesley popped up.

"Here you go, idiots"

Followed swiftly by the notice, "Wesley left".

-----

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @dirtyeddietini @mybffjoe @harrys-tittie @chaoticgood-munson @harringtonfan4 @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @xeddiesbattattsx @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland - add yourself

[froggibus]

Caught Wet Handed - Cypher

Pairing: Cypher x f! reader

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: cypher catches you sexting someone else, and his jealousy tips him over the edge

CW: porn with plot, dom! cypher, sub! reader, sexting, cypher being a creep, touch starved! reader, voyeurism, degradation, sir kink, praise, choking, spanking, biting, brat! reader, use of slut/good girl/sweetheart/baby, oral (m! receiving), face fucking, facial, slight overstim, unprotected sex, creampie, finger sucking, fingering, slight dumbification(??)

i think i covered everything but if i missed something lmk!

dear god what have i done...this is quite literally the filthiest thing ive written in a long time lmfao. also im new to the val fandom so pls tell me if i got anything wrong! also thank you to my bsf @l0serloki for helping me w some of the details i didn't know! enjoy <3

————

After a long mission, all you needed was to cum. 

You’d been pent up all day. Brimstone had sent you and Cypher on a mission, and something about the Moroccan man was driving you crazy. The two of you had barely interacted and touched even less—maybe a tap on the shoulder to gain your attention—but that’s all it took to have him living in your head rent free.

As soon as you enter the base, you’re already tugging off all of your armor. It’s late, most of the agents have already retreated to their rooms, but you don’t bother to be quiet. You make it to your room with half of your gear already off, tossing it into a pile in the corner and making quick work of the rest of your clothes.

As soon as you’re completely undressed, you’re throwing yourself into your bed and grabbing your phone off of your nightstand. As much as you wish you could be fucking Cypher, you know the man is much too withdrawn for that. So, you go to the next best thing: the old Tinder date you still have added on Snapchat.

You send him a selfie of your jaw and bare collarbones, captioned only with a question mark. He answers within seconds, sending a picture of his bare abs with his gray sweatpants just barely in the frame. 

You take that as a yes, and move the camera lower to the tops of your tits. He sends back a picture of him grabbing the bulge in his pants and that’s all you need to get started. You trail your hand down between your legs, rubbing your wet clit. You send him a picture of you touching yourself, receiving a video of him starting to stroke himself in return.

You pull your wet fingers out of your cunt and send him a video of you licking them clean. You put your phone down for a minute to focus on working yourself open, using your other hand to pinch and twist your nipples. You can’t help but picture they were Cypher’s hands instead, though.

Cypher leans back in his desk chair, doing his nightly routine that consists of checking the internet for anything on the other agents. He’s done that pretty quickly, though, and his mind is sent wandering to the mission earlier. You looked so pretty, and the way you shrunk when he tapped your shoulder? The images that flooded his mind afterwards were enough to keep him satisfied for weeks.

He hovers his hand over the mouse, tempted to check on you. Cypher had tapped the phones of all of the agents, with the excuse that it was to track it in case something ever happened. And that was true, for the most part. 

Except when it came to you. He couldn’t help but check on you every once and a while. It was never anything too far—just doxxing the anonymous man who dm’d you a dick pic without your permission, or smiling at the cute conversations you have with your friends.

His impulses get the best of him and he finds himself clicking on the software that lets him see your screen. He expects it to be black, you fast asleep just down the hall from him. He’s gravely mistaken when the application loads and you’re on Snapchat, completely naked and posing for the camera.

His cock twitches in his pants at the sight and he stares for a few seconds before he remembers he should look away. He does, but only for a second until his eyes drift back to your naked form on their own. 

It’s only then that he realizes you’re sexting someone. He scoffs when the man sends you back a video. Cypher is much bigger, and he just knows he can fuck you better than the man you have saved as ‘Tinder Douchebag’ in your phone.

Jealousy bubbles up inside him when you send him back a video of you fingering yourself furiously with the caption: I want you to fuck me so bad! Cypher doesn’t even know what he’s doing until he’s stomping down the hallway, headed for your room.

You freeze in your tracks and drop your phone when Cypher bursts through your door. You’re so shocked by the sight of the masked man that you don’t even cover up. He’s only wearing track pants and a t-shirt with his mask now and you wonder if he was about to go to bed.

Finally, you come to your senses and manage to tug your comforter over your naked body. “Cypher? What are you doing?”

Your face heats up. How much did he see? What was he even doing here? Sweat beads roll down your temples and you try to keep a straight face.

“What are you doing, y/n?”

“I-I was about to go to bed.”

He shuts the door and locks it behind him. “Don’t lie, y/n. I know you were sexting that Tinder guy on Snapchat.”

“How did you—did you tap my phone?”

He approaches you, only inches away now. You can see the bulge in his pants, and despite the awkwardness of the situation, your cunt gushes onto your sheets. 

He grasps your chin tightly. “Did I turn you on during our mission earlier? Were you thinking of me fucking you while you sent naughty pictures to another man?”

You say nothing, but Cypher knows that he hit the mark based on the look on your face. He can’t help but smirk, only getting more and more turned on.

“What a slut,” he laughs cruelly. “Too shy to ask for a real man so you turn to that idiot?”

The lightbulb in your head turns on at his words, and it's your turn to smile. “You jealous, Cyph?”

He snaps, hand moving from your jaw down to your throat. He squeezes gently, not enough to even restrict your airflow, but just enough to make you wary. You look up at him through wide eyes and wonder if you should be as turned on by him choking you as you are. 

He moves down to whisper in your ear, “do you want me to fuck you or not, y/n?”

You nod eagerly.

“That’s what I thought,” he releases his grasp on your neck. “Then shut up and be a good girl, okay?”

“Yes, Cypher.”

He shakes his head. “That’s sir to you.”

“Yes sir.” This pleases him, and he rewards you by ripping the blanket off of your body. The blood rushes to his cock at the sight of you—nipples hard and sensitive, thighs trembling and coated in your slick.

He dips his fingers in between your legs. They come back glistening, only egging him on. He pushes the bottom of his mask up so that he can taste your juices, licking his fingers clean.

You sit perfectly still, in awe of the man in front of you. This is the most you’ve ever seen of him and you want to savor it all. 

He moans, “you taste so good, baby.”

The sight of him sucking your arousal off of his fingers is enough to make you lightheaded, a fever settling over you. Cypher keeps part of his mask flipped up, leaning in to kiss you. His lips are soft against yours and he wastes no time in shoving his tongue into your mouth.

You grab onto his arms, trying to ground yourself despite the way your head is spinning right now. He pulls back, a trail of saliva connecting your mouth to his. He leans in again but connects his lips to your neck this time, biting you. 

You whine at the pain which only pushes him further. He kisses down your neck, making his way to your collarbone. He bites you just above it and you can feel him smirk against your neck.

“You better not cover these up,” he mumbles, mouth moving farther down your body. “I want everyone to know what a slut you are for me.”

You can only moan at his words when he makes his way to your sensitive tits. Your nipples are already swollen from your earlier treatment, so when Cypher smacks his hand against your tits, the feeling overwhelms you.

“F-fuck, sir—I’m really sensitive right now!”

“Aw, do you want me to kiss it better?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before his wet mouth is on your aching nipples, giving them each a wet kiss. You sigh in relief when the cool air hits the wet spots he left behind. The relief is sweet but brief. 

Cypher grazes his teeth across your nipple. It stings, forcing a whimper from your lips. “You’re so pathetic,” he bites your nipple again. 

“I-I—“ you whine, unable to form a full sentence. 

“I-I-I,” he mocks you, slipping one of his hands between your legs. 

He rolls your clit between his index finger and thumb, gathering your juices on his fingertips. He slips a finger inside of you, pumping it in and out of you a few times before adding a second. His fingers move expertly inside you—curling into your walls to press against your sweet spot.

You can feel yourself getting close, walls tightening on his fingers. You try to stay still but your thighs clench on his hand without you trying. Cypher just shakes his head at you and forces your legs open with his other hand.

“I’m gonna cum—”

Cypher slips a third finger in and speeds up. You squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back, forcing your cunt farther onto his fingers. He scissors them inside of you, spreading your gummy walls farther apart. It’s more than enough to send you over the edge.

You cum with a scream, walls spasming around his fingers. Your legs are shaking, chest heaving with every breath. Cypher could cum on the sight of you writhing below him alone.

He pulls his fingers out of your pussy and forces them past your lips. Your head feels fuzzy, but you still manage to pop them into your mouth and suck them clean. Your mouth is soft and warm, and Cypher wants nothing more than to replace his hand with his cock.

He rushes to undo his pants, tossing them to the side. His boxers are bulging, straining under the pressure of his hard cock. He pulls them down slowly, making eye contact with you the whole time. 

His cock springs out of his boxers, coated in pre cum. The sight makes your mouth water around his fingers. Cypher tugs them from your mouth and wipes your spit onto your swollen nipples.

He grabs your hair and yanks your head so that you’re level with his throbbing length. “It’s not going to suck itself, sweetheart.”

You kneel forwards on the bed wrapping your hands around his cock. It’s long and smooth, the tip red and dripping with precum. You stick out your tongue and lick a bead off of his tip. You slowly lick up his shaft, making eye contact with him while you do so.

He throws his head back, moaning. He tugs on your hair and thrusts his hips forehead, the head of his cock pushing past your lips into your warm mouth. You open your mouth wider to take more of him in. He tastes salty but it's addicting—you want to suck every drop of his cum out of his balls.

You bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks to apply more pressure to his cock. You use one hand to squeeze whatever you can’t fit in your mouth and use the other to cup his balls. 

He shivers from the sensitivity, his dominant side melting away for a brief second. “F-fuck,” he clutches the back of your head to force more of himself down your throat, “I always knew you’d be good at this.”

He tangles his hands in your hair and uses it as leverage to start fucking your face. You don’t fight back, instead, you move your hands to his thighs, squeezing them to take as much of him as possible. He pulls away for a second, letting you catch your breath, before slamming his cock back down your throat.

“Fucking slut, so desperate for my cum.”

You hum in agreement through his cock, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. That’s all it takes to send him over the edge.

He gives you no warning that he’s cumming, just shooting his salty seed into your mouth. He jerks himself off, pulling himself out and shooting some onto your lips and chin. The milky substance drips down your chin and coats the tops of your tits. 

Cypher makes a mental note to check the camera in your room later to save this image.

He grabs your hips and tosses you onto your stomach, making you stick your ass up in the air. “Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your sweet little pussy?”

“Y-yes sir!”

Cypher teases his throbbing cockhead, plunging it through your folds. Your pussy is gushing, making a mess of his cock and your sheets below it. He hits his tip against your clit. You try to move your hips against him, desperate for him to be inside of you.

Cypher doesn’t like this, though, and smacks your ass hard. “Have some patience, slut.”

Your butt stings from where he hit you, skin burning. You try not to move and let him continue teasing, rubbing his cock up and down your soaking pussy. He dips the head in every once and a while, making you think he’s going to fuck you, before going back up to your clit.

Finally, Cypher rams his cock into you. He feels much bigger when he’s inside of you, his cock reaching spots that your toys and fingers could never. You scream out but Cypher reaches around and covers your mouth with his hands.

He uses his hands as leverage to keep fucking into you, cock ramming inside of you and balls slapping your clit with every thrust. “You’re so wet,” he grunts, “your pussy takes me so well.”

You whimper into his hands, reaching one of your own to rub your clit. Cypher is unrelenting with his pace—forcing his cock harder and harder inside of you with every thrust. He smacks your ass again and smirks at the way it jiggles from the momentum.

“It’s like you were made for me, sweetheart.” 

Your cunt gushes at that, telling Cypher exactly how you feel about his praise. He speeds up, both of you nearing your finish. You can feel his cock twitching against your tightening walls and now it's just a matter of who’s going to finish first.

He smacks your ass once more and you finally reach your peak. You collapse onto the bed, body too weak from your orgasm to keep yourself up any longer. Cypher thrusts once more, before cumming inside of you. You can feel his hot cum fill you up and drip out of your aching pussy, further ruining your sheets.

You’re panting, covered in sweat, cum and spit, face down on the mattress. Cypher has pulled out, letting himself collapse on the bed next to you.

He reaches out, wrapping an arm around your waist and flipping you onto your side so that you can breathe easier. “How are you feeling?” His tone is gentle now, the dominant edge completely gone.

“G-good,” your voice is raspy, throat still aching from his harsh fucking. 

“Was I too rough?” You shake your head, eyes fluttering closed. You’re exhausted, your whole body sore. He reaches out and pets your cheek, brushing away the strands of hair that’s been matted to your face with sweat.

“Y/n,” he mumbles.

“Hm?”

“I-I like you a lot…and I don’t want you to have sex with anyone else.” That’s enough to make you open your eyes. “You—you do?”

He nods, cheeks slightly red. You’re in pure shock at how he can go from dominant to adorable so quickly.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Your head spins but you manage to mumble out a yes.

 Cypher just laughs at how sleepy you are, planting a quick kiss on your forehead. “We’ll talk about it more in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, eyes fluttering shut again, “Cypher?’

“Yes?”

“Can I sleep in your bed? We kinda made a mess out of mine…”

“Of course,” he chuckles.

Cypher pulls on his pants and tugs his earlier t-shirt over your shivering figure. He lifts you into his strong arms, head laid against his bare chest, and he carries you to his bedroom.

masterlist

[jcwriting]

There’s A First Time For Everything

summary ↬ namjoon has never had a blowjob before. you’re about to change that.

pairing ↬ idol!namjoon x reader

genre ↬ smut, pwp (im not kidding there is zero plot to this), fluff, (new) established relationship 

word count ↬ 2.8k

warnings ↬ swearing, oral (m receiving), face fucking, choking, reader has a painful thigh kink (don’t we all), overuse of the word thigh

authors note ↬ listen,,,,i saw that picture of namjoon in shorts (you know the one) and i just,,,lost it. also, this is my first time posting fic for bts and im shitting bricks about it so pls be nice to me!!!!! i hope you enjoy this quick (thirsty) little ode to namjoon’s thighs. pls let me know what you think!

also, the gif above haunts me. everyday. okay, enjoy.

“I want to give you a blowjob.”

Namjoon choked on the swig of water he had just taken. The two of you were watching TV. Actually, Namjoon was watching TV. You were sitting on the floor at the coffee table with your laptop out to answer some work emails. But, you were distracted. Specifically by Namjoon’s shorts. More specifically, Namjoon’s thighs in said shorts. The smooth golden skin was begging for your lips and your fingers itched to scratch your nails down to his knees. Then, your eyes naturally glided further up to the apex of his thighs. Where you knew his cock was resting. Again, just begging to be in your mouth. The thought of your jaw and throat aching while he lost it above you consumed your mind. All hope was lost then.

“You…um. Sorry. You want to do that?”

You cocked your head to the side. “Uh, yeah. Wait, did you want me to ask? I’ll ask. Can I give you a blowjob? Please?”

Namjoon chuckled. “No, no. You don’t have to ask. It’s just, y’know, are you sure?”

“Yes,” you said slowly. What was he not getting? “Do you not want one?”

“No! No, oh my god. I want that. I definitely want that. That’s not the issue.”

“Then, what is?”

Namjoon blew out a breath that fluttered the hair that rested on his forehead. He cupped the back of his neck and rubbed awkwardly. “I’ve never had someone do that to me before. So-”

“What?” You would have been less shocked if he had told you that he was a closeted furry. The two of you had only been dating for about a month so the in-depth what things did your ex do in bed conversation hadn’t been fully fleshed out yet. You knew he had lost his virginity to his previous girlfriend and they had had a healthy sex life, so you had just assumed that him receiving oral was part of that. Yet…this man, this absolute Adonis of a man had never gotten his cock sucked? It was the most absurd thing you had ever heard in your life. “Hold on. You had a girlfriend before me, right? She didn’t go down on you? Ever?”

Namjoon looked like he wanted the couch to swallow him whole but you barely noticed. You were too busy experiencing the shock of your fucking life. “I did. But she - uh, no. She didn’t want to and I didn’t want to pressure her.”

Your heart melted a little before you shut your laptop. Healthy sex life your ass. You were sucking this mans dick and that was final. “I’m going to give you a blowjob, Namjoon. Right now.” You turned to him and began crawling forward. His eyes flew to your ass that swayed in the air and he audibly swallowed. “If you don’t want me to then you need to tell me within the next thirty seconds.”

“Oh God,” he whimpered and spread his legs a little wider. You were salivating. “Yes. As long as you’re sure-” Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a heavy groan as your hands slid up his thighs. Finally, you smiled to yourself as you bent your fingers and allowed your nails to dig into the meat of his inner thigh.

“I have a thing for your thighs,” you murmured. “Never realized I had a thigh kink until I met you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want to ride your thighs. Will you let me?”

“God, yes.” Namjoon went to reach for your arms but you batted his hands away. This wasn’t about you right now. This was about him. You reached for your hair and quickly pulled it into a sloppy bun. His eyes followed your movements and you didn’t miss how the bulge in his shorts twitched.

“I need you to tell me if I do something that you don’t like, okay? I want to make you feel good. Don’t be afraid to talk to me. If you like something, let me know. If not, then definitely let me know.” Namjoon nodded feverishly. His eyes were almost black and his chest was straining against his white top. You smirked to yourself. This was going to be fun.

Bending down, you pressed a kiss to the top of his thigh. Your mouth dragged along his skin and you relished in the way he quivered beneath you. Following the seam of his leg before doing the same on the other. Nails pressed little crescent moons into his flesh before your thumbs smoothed over the marks. Your nose lifted the loose material of his shorts up to his hips and skimmed the exposed areas as your tongue reached out to flick the little freckle that found a home on his hip before you set your sights on his dick that was straining for you. Lips that had previously kissed his skin now moved to the fabric that jailed his heavy cock. Sitting back, your thumb traced the underside of his dick softly before you barely brushed over the head. The cotton dragged against your finger and Namjoon huffed loudly before lifting his hips further into your touch.

“Don’t tease.” Namjoon’s voice had lowered a few octaves and the deep tone had you clenching your thighs. His hands fisted the pillows next to him and you could feel the restraint he was exacting on himself through the trembling of his muscles.

“I’m not,” you promised. “I’m just making sure you’re ready.”

“I am. Swear to God.”

Unable to keep the smile off your face, you nodded and reached for the waistband of his shorts. He lifted his hips and helped you shove the material to his ankles. That was when you realized two things.

One, he was right. His cock laid thick and proud on his stomach and was weeping for you. He was of average length but his girth let you know that were going to struggle to fit him in your mouth. The thought only made you shiver in delight. A phantom pain panged in your gut when you took in the slight curve of the head, knowing it was going to hit everything you needed.

Second, he had the prettiest cock you had ever seen. You never thought dicks were pretty. In fact, you were pretty resolute on that thought. Most likely due to the disgusting amount of unsolicited dick pics you had received in your life. But, Namjoon’s?  You wanted to take a picture, frame it and admire it whenever you wanted to. The skin that stretched around his width was a shade darker than the rest of him and his cock head, a pretty red color, made you want to see how far down you could get the flush to go.

You wrapped your hand around his length and twisted up. Namjoon’s back arched off the couch and a string of curses fell off of his lips. Your thumb collected the glistening pre-cum on his tip and used it to smooth your palm over him.

“I normally don’t say this,” you said as you became infatuated with the vein that ran along the underside of his cock, “but if you want to send me a dick pic, I definitely won’t complain. Like, ever.”

“B-baby, I’ll give you whatever you want. Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Namjoon moaned, throwing his head back when your thumb pressed against the delicate skin that resided under the his mushroom tip.

You giggled lightly. “So sensitive. I’ve barely even started.”

Namjoon opened his mouth to say something but you didn’t give him a chance. You licked the vein that had caught your eye earlier and followed it to the top before enveloping the head of him into the heat of your mouth. You relished the broken groan that he let out. Several kitten licks were placed on his weeping slit before taking him deeper. You worked slowly, gauging his reaction as you took him further. He responded well, panting and moaning in encouragement, head still thrown back against the couch.

“You can look at me, you know,” you reminded him as he popped out of your mouth. Kisses were mouthed over the soft skin that was wrapped around the steel of his erection. Your hand used your spit as lube to tug him harder.

“Can’t,” Namjoon gasped. “Gonna blow my load if I watch you.”

“That’s kind of the whole point.”

“Not yet,” he whined. “I don’t want this to be over.”

You pinched his hip until he met your gaze, offering him a sweet smile. “This isn’t going to be the last time I get on my knees for you, baby.” You held his wide-eyed stare as you took him back into your mouth. Ignoring how his hands seemed to flutter around you, unsure of what to touch, you focused on sliding him further into your mouth. Then, you sucked hard, using your tongue to lave at the warm skin.

Namjoon lost it above you. He released a strangled moan that caused your core to absolutely gush. One hand finally tangled into your hair and the other gripped your shoulder with warning, which you ignored. You merely sucked and pulled harder. Namjoon’s hips flexed, causing the tip of him to slam into the back of your throat. Not expecting it, you couldn’t help but cough around him as your eyes watered.

“Oh, God! I’m so sorry.” Namjoon used the hand on your shoulder to yank you off. His thumbs wiped at the tears that trickled down your cheeks, the concern etched across his face made you feel warm inside. “Shit, are you okay?”

“I am, promise,” you assured him. “Just give me a second, okay?”

He nodded while pushing back some of your hair that had escaped your sloppy up-do. You gently removed his hands before looking down at his length that was still clutched in yours. As much as he had shocked you, the thought of him fucking your face was not something you shied away from. Really, it was exactly what you wanted. But you needed to prep a bit first.

When you took him back in your mouth, you focused on relaxing the muscles in your throat. Breathing deeply through your nose, you slowly worked yourself further down until your nose was pressed into the base of him. Spit trickled out of your mouth and over his balls as you pulled back. You did this a few more times, working past your gag reflex and allowing your throat to get used to the intrusion.

Namjoon was anything but quiet as you deep throated him. It was honestly the sexiest thing you had ever heard. While your past lovers hadn’t necessarily been quiet, the praises Namjoon kept raining on you and the beautiful noises he made were music to your ears. Your body certainly agreed. Your cunt ached to be filled and the fabric of your panties was soaked through. But, you ignored your needs and focused on the panting man before you.

“Okay,” you nodded as you popped him out of your mouth. “I’m ready.”

It took Namjoon’s brain a few seconds to process what you said. He shifted restlessly on the couch cushions as you ran your hands over his thighs. “Huh? W-what did you say?”

“I’m ready for you to fuck my face.”

His pupils were blown wide as he stared at you with an open mouth. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What if I want it to hurt?” You stared at him while purring the words that was his undoing. Namjoon’s eyes got impossibly darker as his chest expanded with a sharp intake of breath. He spread his legs wider and gently held the back of your head as he guided you down his shaft. You held eye contact with him as he cautiously raised his hips to meet your lips. Once he saw no signs of distress from you, he began thrusting more consistently as you bobbed your head to match his rhythm.

His steady movements didn’t last long but it didn’t bother you. You were more than happy to take over for him. Like you said, this wasn’t going to be the last time you worshipped his cock. The two of you had plenty of time to figure things out. Plus, knowing how much you clearly affected him gave you all the motivation you needed.

Your throat began to tense up again so you focused your attentions on his sensitive head and let your hands twist up to your mouth and back down. The sounds of your palm gliding along his slick skin and your lips sucking tightly filled the spacious living room. They were nearly drowned out by Namjoon, though.

“Baby, oh f-fuck…shit,” he keened loud and hard when your other hand moved to brush over his swollen balls. You cupped them gently and rolled them between your fingers. Even as he was practically thrashing against you, hips thrusting in an aimless rhythm, the hand he had originally placed on the back of your head remained there. He applied no pressure, allowing you to set the pace, but it also seemed to ground him. To remind him that this wasn’t a dream.

“M’gonna cum. Baby…baby, I’m gonna cum. Soon, oh God,” he babbled. You appreciated the warning but you didn’t need it. He was twitching wildly in your mouth and your tongue was coated with the salty essence of his pre-cum. In response, you ran your index finger on that sensitive spot behind his balls and that’s when Namjoon exploded.

Thick ropes of white shot down your throat, causing you to almost gag. Instead, you swallowed past the reflex and took as much as you could. By the fourth stream, a bit had managed to slip past the suction of your mouth and dribble down his cock. You were quick to clean up, licking at the mess the both of you had made before returning to his tip. You suckled the sensitive head until Namjoon practically shoved you away from him.

When you looked up you were met with a glorious sight. Namjoon was completely fucked out, twitching against the couch and his broad chest heaving for air. Sweat beaded his sharp jaw line and trickled down the column of his throat. His face was tilted towards the ceiling and his hair was haphazardly pushed off of his forehead. He looked completely ruined and entirely yours.

“Was that good?” You asked softly as you rose to your feet, ignoring the sharp ache in your knees. Namjoon made an unintelligible sound in the back of his throat that you took as a resounding yes. He cracked his eyes open and looked at you with such adoration you couldn’t help but blush.

“Really?” He murmured. “Don’t get shy on me now. You can’t just suck the life out of me one second and then start blushing like a school girl immediately after.”

“It’s called duality,” you muttered as your cheeks flushed darker. Namjoon snorted and reached for you, pulling you onto his lap. His spent cock nestled between your thighs and his eyes rolled back into his head when he felt the simmering heat through the fabric of your shorts.

“I need five minutes. Then, I swear to God, I’m going to eat you out like you deserve.”

Giggling, you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the strands of hair at the base of his neck. “You don’t have to. This wasn’t a quid pro quo situation. I gave you a blowjob because I wanted to. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“It’s either you give me five minutes so that I can eat you out or ten minutes so I can fuck you into next week. You decide.”

His determination brought a smile to your face until you took in the purple bags under his eyes and how his eyelids kept drooping lower and lower. “How about a nap first, hm? I’ll decide after you get some sleep.”

Namjoon looked like he wanted to protest but you kissed him instead. His argument clearly wasn’t that strong because when you pulled away he was nodding in resignation. You helped him pull up his shorts and squealed when he lifted you up into his arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you let him carry you into the bedroom and wrap the both of you up in the comforter. You hadn’t planned on sleeping with him, wanting to get more work done while he slept. But the faint scent of his aftershave and the soft way he caressed your spine could lull an insomniac to sleep. Who were you to refuse?

“Wake me up when you decide,” Namjoon whispered into your hair. You nodded against his chest, and within minutes the two of you slipped into a deep slumber. Happy and content.

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

LINKS:

masterlist

ao3

[srslysierraa]

Oh! No no darling! I was the stupid one who didn't see what I wrote, I'm so sorry for the confusion (I'm so embarrassed rn) TT

I meant fem! HUMAN*! reader. Again im sorry :(

Twist Of Fate.

Prompt ;; what happens when you wake up realizing you're at the mercy of an actual demon? Would you be scared? Frightened? Traumatized? Well, the situation is definitely concerning, even more so when the very same familiar face you've lost long ago went out of his way to save you.

Type ;; hcs, comfort, alastor getting angry for you, harsh words, a bit of gore.

Chars. Involved ;; alastor [hazbin hotel]

A/N ;; yes i used the same header pic as another one of my writings, I'm in too much of a not mood to actually make another one pls forgive me. Other than that I'm so sorry for not posting that much — or at all these past few days, i haven't had any energy to do so. But I'm slowly getting it again and this hcs were a bomb to write, so pls enjoy ^^

Heavy breathing.

Crimson red walls.

Hands tied together with a big puffy bow to decorate just how much it hurts your wrists.

And the very not human like creature in front of you.

You couldn't even open your eyes wide enough to see who it is, or what they look like. Not like you'll recognize em with how they currently look anyways.

Apparently they're someone you used to know- well, more like someone you used to despise has been sent down to Hell.

Meh, not that surprising.

What catches your attention more is how you got down there, a very much living breathing human just trying to live your life and not knowing what the fuck this is.

Are you dead? Then why do you still look like a human? Or at least your hands looks like human hands.

Are you sure this ain't a case where they misjudged you and you're supposed to be in Heaven?

Your mind blanked for a second, tired from wringling around in your tied down fetal position as the monstrosity in front of you prances around the room.

You could barely make out what they said, speaking about how you got kidnapped and brought here.

Turns out you got into a feud with your old enemy's best friend or something like that? So now they're mad at you for it?

Huh, no wonder the very displeasing attitude radiating from the stupid person(?) Thing? In front of you was familiar.

You wanted to mock them but held back on the idea, as much as it would make you feel good you're still not sure how capable they are.

Not to mention you're literally tied down.

They insulted you. Bringing up all the times you've been quote-on-quote "ruining their life and it's their time to ruin yours". Hands on your face as it almost choked you from the way they're picking up your face despite the position.

Is this how it's actually going to end? Sharp nails digging in the side of your face as your past and present enemy laughs at your misery?

And in Hell out of all places?

You're not sure how you'll get out or if you even able to, but right then and there something happened.

click

The sound of the doorknob turning caused both you and the demon in front of you to look back, only to be met with absolutely nothing.

A shiver ran down your spine, before-

riiip

This time, it sounded like fabric or a rope. With a hint of excitement and hope you look down, somehow, your hands were.. free?

You looked around for a hint of who might be helping you at the moment, but nothing was on sight.

The one who kidnapped you though, they were far from happy.

"What the fuck did you do." It sounded more a demand than a question, as they back you to a corner. "You really do want to die huh?!"

Claws out and sharp almost blade-like nails came to greet you hello, as they point one of their fingers to your neck.

"Should've fuckin' killed you when i got the chance, bitch." They hissed, slowly walking forward. And then they smirked.

The sharp thin blades swinged themselves towards you, pointed exactly at your neck and face. And-

SLASH

The sound ringed grotesquely in your ears as you instantly closed your eyes, hands shaking and mouth ajar as you steadied your breathing.

Wait.

Your breathing?

2 seconds passed, and no, this isn't a delay at all. You were,, alive? Surprisingly. So what was that sound?

A deep breath was taken as you mentally prepared yourself to open your eyes, maybe you really have been slashed to pieces, bloodied body and ripped skin and the only thing keeping the illusion of safety was you keeping yourself in a bubble of your mind as you let your eyes close.

Maybe you'll feel the excruciating pain after this moment where you opened your eyes.

But the image in front of you was anything than you imagined.

The one torned apart wasn't you, it was them.

One giant black spike presented itself with the opportunity of going through your Kidnapper's body from the ground up, piercing a hole through it.

Then, a hand. Slim fingers entangling themselves around their neck as a crackle can be heard from what you assumed was the hand's owner putting so much force as to break what's in their grasp.

Then, a glimpse. You hear more cruel actions as you felt limp, legs deactivating below you while the scenery of your enemy's head getting pierced was being presented as you fall. And then the face of the wrongdoer.

Red coat and a cheeky smile, sly expression and something so familiar that you can't exactly explain.

And then darkness as a thud was heard from the trauma you just created purely based what you just witnessed, the malfunction of your brain to comprehend what happened caused your body to shut down, until you wake up in a comfortable bed.

You felt like you just went through Hell, both figuratively and literally. Cold drops of sweat rolling down your face were visible as you looked into the mirror.

And his reflection was there.

Startled, you turned back, but the familiarity of the man was no doubt something you've seen, so you slowly crawled back.

"Now, now, dear!"

The cheerfulness of the voice caught you off guard, as heavy breathing of your own accompanied his chirping.

"Am i not gonna get a thank you? I did save you after all!"

It striked you so fast you didn't even realize it till you say it, you're not sure you're right but,

"..Alastor?" "There it is, my beloved (Y/n)! My nonexistent heart was about to break at the thought of my sweetheart forgetting me. Now, how do you do, Princess?"

Fear and relief rushed through you, as you freezed at the image of your long lost.. friend? You have always developed a crush for Alastor, and though never told him, you were almost positive he knew. In fact, you kinda hoped that he would return those feelings, which made his death all the more sadder for you.

"Lost for words, i presume?" "..you, saved me?" "Indeed-y!" "How?"

You blurted up, but his eyes only find their ways to yours. "Some things are better left unsaid, darling." He commented, taking his staff as he opens back a portal to his realm.

"Wait- uh." "Hm?" "Are you... going?"

Another smile. God you hated it, and as different his appearance be, it still has that stupid charm of his. How can you resist?

"Nonsense! I'll always be with you one way or another, Darling. Don't forget that."

He says as he steps into the portal, leaving you behind as you sit uncomfortably in your bed. As you were about to lay down in what you assume was another dream, something catches your eye.

Is that, a shadow?

[milkybonya]

heartbroken

order 003 for anon: a large banana milk tea with strawberry popping boba for treasure’s Yedam

Warnings: angst, crying, explicit language, threats, violence

Summary: where Yedam is the badboy! at school and he has a soft spot for you ^-^ you somehow end up as his tutor and.. yeah :")

[a/n]: idk why it's so hard for me to imagine Yedam as a bad boy??? i hope i wrote this well T.T i love the badboy! concept tho hehe so i loved this,, aLSO I'M SORRY FOR SACRIFICING JEONGWOO LIKE THIS JEONGWOO ILY <3 i feel like i kind of unconsciously wrote Yedam as resembling Han Seo Jun from True Beauty hmmmm also i’ve been listening to a lot of Kang Daniel lately and am falling hard for that man so if you see this pls send Kang Daniel pics thx ily

"Everyone move the fuck aside and let me through," Yedam growls, speaking to the crowd that's blocking the classroom door. No one listens so he barges through, pushing people down to the ground if he has to just to get to class.

He doesn't care about why they've all gathered, or the poor student that has fainted at the door. He simply sits at his desk, props his feet up and closes his eyes to take a nap as all the students wonder what they should do.

"Yedam, what the hell?! Now is not the time for sleeping. A student has fainted and all you do is push people aside so you can nap at your desk?"

Yedam opens his eyes and pushes up the shades he's wearing. No one has ever spoken to him like this before, and even the students tending to the fainted person are shocked overhearing this. A relatively quiet student yelling at Yedam?

Who's this? Yedam wonders to himself, staring you up and down. He catches a glimpse of your name tag: [y/n]. I've never met this person- ... oh.

The one memory with you that he remembers: him falling off the top of the soccer goal post in an empty field just last year after class had already ended; you leaving the library and finding him there. Despite being scared of him and wanting to just leave, you approached him and gave him a piggy back all the way to the nearest hospital. He remembers the searing pain in his leg and how fast you tried to run, the wind blowing your hair in all directions as you shouted words of comfort into the wind: "It's gonna be okay! We'll get to the hospital soon, I promise."

When he later told his friend, Haruto about it, Haruto said, "I would've left you there and never looked back."

Even though Yedam knew he was joking, he can't forget how kind your actions were that day.

Is this why he isn't getting mad at you even though you're yelling in his face?

"Just let me take a nap," is all he says to you, sliding his sunglasses back down on his face. You shake your head at him before leaving the classroom, rushing to tell the teacher about the fainted student.

From that day, Yedam decides he won't leave you alone. For what reason? No one knows, not even him.

-

"Sir!"

"Yes, Yedam, what is your question?" the teacher asks, turning around from the blackboard to face the class.

"Can I change my seat?" Yedam asks.

The class laughs until Yedam shoots a glare in everyone’s direction.

"We're in the middle of a mathematics lesson, Yedam. Talk to me about it later."

"It's an emergency!"

"What's the emergency?"

"I need to sit here," Yedam says, getting up from his spot and walking to the seat on your right, tapping his fingers on the desk.

"And why's that?" the teacher asks, crossing his arms.

"Because... it's closer to the blackboard?"

Your heart is nervously racing throughout this interaction. Never in a million years would you want Yedam, the school's most renowned bad boy to sit beside you. Never.

"You've been sitting in the back for years. What's the problem?" the teacher asks.

"There's a problem. Very big one."

Yedam sits on the desk of that innocent student, sitting on their notes and crossing his arms.

"Yedam, can we talk about this later-"

"Nope. Hey... Junkyu? Can you move to my spot?" Yedam asks the student. One fierce glare from him is enough to get the student to pack up and clear the desk out.

"See? problem sorted," Yedam tells the teacher, sitting at his new spot beside you.

The teacher worriedly looks at you, noticing your discomfort.

"Well, we need to hurry on with the lesson so we'll talk about this later, okay?" the teacher explains, looking at both you and Yedam.

For the rest of the lesson, Yedam does nothing but stare at you. You don't look at him, not even once, but you can feel his eyes on you. It makes you lose focus, even though you're trying your best to take notes.

He's memorizing all of your features. the curve of your nose and lips, the colour of your eyes and how they look in the sunlight. He doesn't know why, but he just wants to look at you.

Finally, when the lesson ends and the teacher asks both of you to follow him to his office, you slam your arms down on your desk and glare at Yedam.

"Can you stop staring at me? I haven't been able to focus and you're making me uncomfortable!" you yell, silencing the chatter of the classroom.

Yedam gulps.

"I can't focus either, cause of you," Yedam says with a wink, resting his head on his palm.

You cough, shocked at his words.

"What are you saying?" you choke out.

"Let's go to the teacher's office. Whatever he says, tell him you're helping me with my studies so I need to sit beside you."

"And if I don't?" you challenge Yedam.

Yedam simply glares at you with his sharp eyes and you decide to comply.

As he lopes out of the class in a relaxed manner, you rush along behind him. In the teacher's office, you sit beside one another and across from your teacher, who sighs before he speaks.

"Yedam, I can tell [y/n] is uncomfortable with your actions. They don't want to be sitting beside you so please go back to your usual spot for the next class, okay?"

The teacher only speaks to Yedam, not even looking in your direction or asking for your opinion. You understand his intentions, but it still upsets you a little...

Yedam looks at you instead, an expectant expression on his face. Although you find him extremely annoying, his look is enough encouragement to get you to speak, even though you're about to say a bunch of lies.

"But sir, I've actually been helping Yedam with his studies these days," you croak out, gaining more confidence with each word you speak.

"Have you?" the teacher asks, raising his brow.

"They have, and you'll be seeing my improved grades soon," Yedam says, nudging you with a smirk.

"Well... if that's true, then alright. I'd better see those improved grades," the teacher says.

Yedam bites his lip while grinning, clearly glad that he'll be allowed to sit with you. On the other hand, you sigh. Who knows what kind of trouble this will bring for you...

-

After that meeting, the two of you sit beside one another in your next class. You feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest as Yedam stares at you from your right. The rest of the class has their eyes on you, too, wondering why Yedam is still sitting beside you.

"Can you please... stop staring at me," you whisper under your breath.

"I don't want to," Yedam says with a smile, continuing to look at you while his head is being held up by his palm, elbow propped up on his desk.

"I bet that [y/n] somehow seduced Yedam. They may look quiet, but they might be the slyest person on this planet," a classmate suggests from behind you.

Yedam's chair screeches backwards from beside you and he stands up, his arms swinging slightly at his sides.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Yedam asks, turning around to the classmate who was speaking nonsense. His face looks extremely angry - you've never seen him like this before.

The classmate puffs up their chest, trying to look stronger than they really are.

"I said [y/n] seduced you! And what?"

"You idiot," Yedam hisses, taking a few strides forward and smacking them in the face.

Instead of fighting back, the classmate doesn't budge. They have their head down, slowly reaching their hand up to their injured cheek.

Yedam crouches down to the seated student to meet their eyes.

"[y/n] never seduced me and never will. We've all been classmates for so long, you still can't recognize one another? Stop the bullshit. If I hear this again, it'll be more than your face that'll be harmed, you hear me?"

"Yedam, that's enough," you say, tugging at the back of his uniform blazer.

He finally turns around after a while, greeting you with such a bright smile that you wonder if he's forgotten everything that just happened.

"So, [y/n], are you gonna help me study or what?" Yedam asks you, returning to his seat."

"What do you mean?" you ask, confused.

"The teacher is expecting improved grades, so of course we should show him that, shouldn't we?"

The way Yedam tilts his head to one side while smiling at you makes your breath falter for a second.

"I-I guess we should," you stutter. Why are you suddenly getting so nervous around a jerk like Yedam? No but firstly, why is he being so nice to you?

"Okay, everyone! Class is starting, get to your- what happened to Jeongwoo?" the teacher asks, pointing to the classmate who Yedam smacked.

Jeongwoo's cheek is red and he has some ice pressed up against it.

"Got hit by a baseball. He's never paying attention to the right things," Yedam says, shaking his head.

The teacher thankfully shrugs things off. If not, Yedam would have been in deep trouble. 

You release the breath you didn’t realize you’ve been holding and Yedam pokes you with the eraser end of his pencil.

“Library after school today, okay?” he whispers. You nod.

-

Yedam watches you neatly pack up your things with his arms crossed, unconsciously smiling at the way you make sure everything is in the right part of your bag before you sling it over your shoulders and declare that you’re ready to go.

“You don’t mind taking a motorbike ride real quick, do you?” Yedam asks, glancing at you as the two of you walk down the hallway.

Shit. You’d forgotten that Yedam has a motorbike and takes the thing everywhere with him. Even though you’re a little scared to ride it with him, if that’s what he’s suggesting, you’re more scared to say ‘no’ to Yedam, so you simply nod.

Yedam is quick to notice the way you gulp, though, and how you nervously fidget with your hands as you walk, taking shaky steps.

They’re nervous... he tells himself. I’d better treat them well.

-

Yedam hands you his spare helmet. When you hesitate to take it from him, he places it over your head himself, knocking on it to show how protective it is. 

“In case anything happens, I promise I won’t let you get hurt, okay?” he tells you, holding out his pinkie finger. 

You let out a scoff at his unexpected childishness, but still loop your pinkie around his.

“I’m not scared, you know,” you exert, swinging your right leg around the motorbike as you take a seat behind Yedam.

“Sure.”

Before you can even blink, Yedam starts the motorbike and whizzes off. You’re forced to wrap your arms tightly around him out of fear, and he smiles under your warm embrace.

“You can just grab onto my blazer instead, you know,” he yells into the wind. You hear him, but pretend you didn’t. You’re too scared to move your hands right now.

After getting over some of the fear, you raise your head and admire the moving blue sky above you, the way the trees stand at the edge of the skyline and how the wind seems to surge through your veins as well as directly through you.

You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until Yedam tells you, helping you get off the bike. Regaining your senses, you stare at the glass building in front of you.

“Yedam... why are we here?” you ask him in shock. This mans really brought you to the library that’s on the other side of the city.

“I just wanted to enjoy a fun bike ride with you,” he mumbles, walking up the steps to the library.

Once the two of you find a spot, you don’t waste any time in getting right to work.

“So... what subject do you struggle with the most?”

“[y/n],” he mumbles.

“What?”

“Uh... math.”

“Okay... let’s get started with that, then.”

As you talk, Yedam loses focus, getting lost in the sweet tone of your voice, the way your hands move as you talk, and your precious lips.

“Yedam? What’s the answer to this question?” you ask, pointing to the equation you’ve written on the paper before you.

“Uh... I don’t know,” he admits. 

You sigh.

“I just explained to you how you should solve this! Did you not understand or were you not listening?”

“Um... I kind of just want to kiss you right now,” Yedam mumbles under his breath, smiling up at you with a slightly reddened face.

“What? Yedam, you’ve been mumbling all day today and it’s been scaring me.”

“Scaring you? No no, I don’t mean to scare you-”

Both of your phones vibrate on the desk and you glance at one another. You check yours and find out it’s a message from the class groupchat.

Jeongwoo: guys guys! [y/n] and Yedam are at the library across town studying together! i’m telling you, something is up...

Junkyu: says who?

Jeongwoo: sent a photo.

When you look at the photo, it’s of you and Yedam at the very desk you’re sitting at right now. Suddenly, you feel anxious. Has someone been following you? For how long?

Yedam: whichever one of you hoes is following us better fucking stop before i show up at your house and set it on fire. istg please leave us the FUCK ALONE!

Jeongwoo: shit i didn’t mean to send this to the class groupchat...

Yedam slams his phone down and looks carefully around the library.

“I found him,” he whispers before getting up and running across the library. You try to follow his trail and find someone wearing your school uniform running away with Yedam chasing closely behind.

If a fight breaks out because of you, you won’t be able to forgive yourself... you rush after them and follow them to the parking lot, which is luckily quite busy. You know Yedam won’t start a fight in such a busy place...

“You asshole, did Jeongwoo set you up to this?” Yedam grunts, grabbing your classmate by his collar.

“N-no.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Yedam growls.

“Guys, please stop! This parking lot is full of people-”

“Leave me alone!” the boy yells at the top of his lungs. People start to stare and Yedam lets go of his collar, dusting himself off. The veins on his neck are visible, showing his anger.

“If you do anything like this again, you’ll be in for it,” Yedam says to the boy before he runs away.

“[y/n], I’m so sorry-”

“Yedam, if this is what it’s gonna be like for me to help you study then I don’t want to do it!”

“I know, but-”

“Yedam, I’m scared,” you admit, starting to tear up slightly.

Yedam doesn’t know what to do, so he just sadly watches you as you cover your face and try not to cry. Then, you feel his arms around you as he presses his body against yours.

“I’m sorry, [y/n], I just... I’m sorry for putting you in this situation but I just... wanted to spend some time with you and-”

“You call this spending time with me?!” you sob into his chest.

“I’ll make them pay...”

“No, Yedam. I’ve had enough of your revenge and violence and... I just want to go back to my quiet life. Even a day spent like this has been too much for me.”

Yedam pulls away and steps back.

“I’ll pack up my stuff from the library. Please don’t talk to me ever again.”

As you walk away, Yedam silently watches you, hating himself for the fact that his heart is breaking. Why is his heart breaking?

-

The next day, Yedam is in his usual spot somewhere behind you in class, trying to sleep with his head on the desk but being unable to because you still haven’t shown up and he’s worried.

The same thing happens the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

At this point, you haven’t shown up for a week and Yedam is incredibly worried. He’s tried texting and calling you, but you haven’t replied. So he storms into the teachers’ office, demanding for your home address so he can visit you.

The teachers refuse for privacy reasons, but Yedam says he won’t leave the office until they give it to him, so they reluctantly do.

“You better not be going to bother [y/n] in any way, but to truly just visit them.”

“Do I look like I would bother [y/n]?”

“Yes.”

Yedam scoffs, leaving the office with your address in his hands. He leaves the school right then and there too, not caring about the rest of his classes for that day.

After an hour of getting lost on his motorbike searching for your home, he finally finds it. Slightly sweaty and incredibly tired, he knocks on your door, praying that you’ll open it.

“Who is it?” you sleepily ask, opening the door. Your first reaction is to slam the door shut as soon as you see Yedam, but he stops you.

“Please, [y/n],” he begs. “I’ve been searching for your house for an hour and I’m so tired... just let me in.”

Your pure and wholesome soul can’t say no to this, so you invite him in, quickly bringing him a glass of water.

“Why haven’t you been at school?”

“I think you know why,” you say, sitting on the couch next to Yedam’s.

“Because of me?”

You nod.

Yedam sighs.

“[y/n], you shouldn’t stop coming to school because-”

“The kids have stopped talking about us now, right? So I’ll come back, don’t worry.”

“Ah... right,” Yedam says with a sigh, running his hand through his hair.

“Why are you even... here?” you ask him.

“To check on you?” he says in a sarcastic tone, as if it should be obvious.

“Why?”

“Because I-” like you. He almost says it but stops himself, knowing that now is not the right time but also because what the heck?! He likes you?! Since when?! These feelings have been growing so fast on their own that Yedam can’t even keep up with them.

“Because?” you urge him.

“I was worried. Am I not allowed to be here?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t get why you would be worried.”

The truth is, you’re suspecting Yedam has developed feelings for you. You’re hoping it isn’t true, but you need to know. So you’re trying to get him to confess.

“I like you, [y/n], okay?! I know now isn’t the time but you keep putting so much pressure on me and I just...”

Your heart works harder than normal in your chest to keep blood flowing, and you wonder why. It’s not like you like Yedam or anything... right?

“I’m sorry, [y/n]. I’ll leave now,” he says, standing up and grabbing his helmet from where he left it at his feet.

Your heart races as you wonder if you should decide to do that thing you’re thinking about... should you... kiss him?

Ah, you don’t even like this jerk! Why would you do that?!

Exactly, why would you...? Why are you even considering this-

Before you know it, your body is moving on its own as you pull Yedam towards you and connect your lips to his. The sound of his helmet hitting the floor doesn’t hinder you from deepening the kiss as you realize that heck... maybe you really do like Yedam. Why else would you have butterflies?! You wouldn’t get butterflies from kissing someone you hate! Like you wouldn’t get butterflies from kissing trump-

okay sorry, i’ve lost myself here but i’m trying to say

the way Yedam is giving you butterflies is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, and the way he wraps his arm around your lower back, holding you close makes you...

Yedam pulls away, panting slightly.

“[y/n], what the fuck?”

“Yedam... I think I like you, too.”

“You think?” Yedam teases you, grinning.

“What was that for, then?” he asks, pointing to his lips.

“Shut up,” you say, walking past him and purposely bumping into his shoulder. 

He grabs your arm and whirls you back around to face him.

“Just how the heck did we end up liking each other?” he asks you. But after looking at you for even a second, he knows. You’re beautiful, and he realized this the day you helped him when he was injured in that empty school field.

I guess for you, somehow this idiot made his way into your life, and his repeated efforts to win your love somehow rubbed off on you. But still, no one can make your heart race like Yedam does.

-

“[y/n] is back!”

“Yedam is sitting next to [y/n] again?”

“Are they holding hands?!”

You and Yedam sit side by side in class, discreetly holding hands under the desk while sharing earbuds. Sure, the whole class will probably talk and spread rumours about you dating Yedam, but who cares? You’ve found someone you love now, and that’s all that matters.

“Okay, class, let’s start the lesson,” the teacher says, only stopping to show a thumbs up and a wink in your and Yedam’s direction.

“What was that?” you ask Yedam, who smiles.

“I guess he’s showing his support for our newfound relationship?”

[chibi-tsukiko]

Emmmmmm hi 🙈🤭❤️

Takashi's new art is sooooo pretty AND HOT like just *chef kiss*

It makes me wonder can I have a jealous/petty Takashi snippet? 🙈🙈 Cause we know he gets jealous A LOT 🤭🤭😂

But if you don't have that at the moment, just give us some Hakashi snippet pls I miss them 🥺🥺❤️

Hey doll! Thanks for your patience! My day got rather hecktic today 😪

So glad you enjoyed the pic today!

Takashi does become quite green, especially when they first meet Ishida (as we’ve seen from a previous snippet). And it always ends with him doing something silly 🙈 poor guy…

Here’s an example :

————

“Oh Master Takashi, you’re back” Hein smiles, looking up from where he was leaning over.

Takashi stands frozen in the doorway. His eyes fixated on where Ishida’s hand rests on Hein’s shoulder and how Hein is pressing up against Ishida’s chest. The shadow of laughter on their faces.

“You can put the wood over by the fireplace,” Ishida instructs, nodding his head in the direction. He doesn’t move his hand.

Takashi grips the logs in his arms. “What are you two up to?” He asks, setting the logs down on the stone floor.

“Hein was helping with dinner. I did not know your Essence was such a culinary artist,” Ishida praises, giving Hein’s arm a gentle squeeze. “I’ve been testing his knowledge of spices and he really knows his stuff.”

Takashi watches as Hein beams under Ishida’s praise.

“Ishida was telling me a story about how he swindled a merchant out of his entire catch of fish!”

“I did not swindle him!” Ishida protests flicking some spices at Hein.

“He traded it to you for a rock.”

“Which he thought was a rare crystal,” Ishida corrects.

“But it wasn’t,” Hein giggles, “it was a rock.”

Ishida shrugs. “He should have inspected it more.”

“Swindled,” Hein confirms.

“Hush!” Ishida says, flicking more spice powder at him.

Hein laughs, free and unmasked. And something in Takashi cracks like the breaking of a branch. He stomps up to the counter, looking over the spices.

“So how does this testing game of yours work? I have some knowledge regarding such things.” He spots a shot glass full of a brownish-red liquid and reaches for it. “You just throw it back and try, yes?”

“Oh, Master Takashi I wouldn’t-“

“Your highness that’s-“

Ishida and Hein’s warning overlap, but Takashi swallows the mysterious liquid whole before they can finish.

The second the brownish-red sauce hits Takashi’s tongue, he realizes he’s made a mistake. The liquid burns as he swallows, setting fire to his esophagus. He tries to stifle a cough as he sets the glass back down on the counter.

“Mmm yes, that’s. Mmm that’s…” He chokes, a red color filling his cheeks.

“Capsaicin-based extract” Ishida finishes staring at Takashi like a parent who’s watched their child do something stupid. “One drop is as hot as the desert sands.”

“Ah.” Takashi breathes, stifling another cough. His eyes are wet with tears, but he’s desperate to keep composure. “Well, us Dimians can handle the hottest of spices. You should add it.” He gestures to the pot, holding down another cough, “To the stew,” He strains. “I’ll uh, go wash up for dinner.” He smiles and rushes out of the cabin towards the river, not willing to look at Hein.

Ishida sighs. “You should go make sure your Prince doesn’t explode.”

“Will drinking all of that extract do that?!” Hein asks, genuinely concerned.

“No… but the embarrassment might.”

Hein runs after Takashi, leaving Ishida alone in the kitchen, looking sadly at the empty glass. “This was expensive…” he pouts.

Tag list : @littleturtle95 @phoenix-and-dragon @khaleesiofalicante @my-archerboy @clumsyowl-in-a-fandom @radisv @raziyekroos @magnus-the-maqnificent @spotsandclawsthings @sassybookworm2020 @shadowhuntingdemigod @elettralightwood

[fruitcoops]

Hey so umm in your Talker pov fic it had a line where it said these pics made him sick so I had an idea! If you could do you think you could do a pic where the pics make loops physically sick or something?

Oof, it’s been a hot minute since I wrote legitimate angst. Someone else asked for prompt 22 from the mixed prompt list, so I incorporated that as well. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Prompt 22: “Everything is okay”

TW for throwing up/ dry heaving, forced outing, and lots of crying

Remus broke down just before they reached the car, crumpling against James’ side with a strangled cry as he unlocked the door. “Woah, hang on, buddy,” James muttered, pulling him back upright and opening the passenger side.

“They know,” Remus whispered as tears coursed down his face. “They know, they know, they all know.”

“I’m so sorry, Remus.” He pressed their foreheads together and handed him the seatbelt buckle. “Just—just hang on for me, yeah? I’m going to take you home now.”

James could feel people’s stares prickling the back of his neck as he started the car and drove out of the parking garage, doing his very best to ignore the horrible, gulping sobs coming from one of his best friends. “Everyone knows and he left me.” A fresh wave of tears slammed into Remus and he slumped against the window, burying his face in his hands. “He left me, oh, god.”

And I’m going to kill him for it. James ground his teeth. After I find him and make sure he’s alright, I’m going to chew him out for ditching you without a word. Then I’m going to hug him and never let go again. “Everything is okay, Remus.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not going to be okay, I’m gonna get fired and—and my parents are going to hate me and Sirius is going to hate me—”

“Sirius is not going to hate you,” James interrupted, taking Remus’ hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Then why did he leave?” Remus choked out.

“He got scared. That’s what he does when he’s scared.” I thought he was going to a girlfriend when it was you all along. “I’m so sorry.”

Remus didn’t appear to have heard him. “This is all my fault.”

“What? How?”

“I should’ve been more careful. It was my idea to meet up on New Year’s, and it was so stupid to think we could get away with it. Any of it.”

“Hey. Hey.” James glanced over for a half second before turning back to the road. “Remus, none of this is on you. You and Sirius should be free to kiss on New Year’s like everybody else without some asshole sticking their nose in your business. This is not your fault.”

“He trusted me, James.” Remus sounded fragile and sharp, like broken glass. “I told him I’d be careful. He trusted me with everything.”

“I know he did.” How could I have been so blind? “Did anyone else know?”

Remus shook his head, then paused and nodded. “Leo figured it out. Logan knows. Talker almost walked in once. Dumo—” he faltered. “Dumo was the one who got us together.”

“When?”

“November.” His lower lip wobbled. “Sirius’ birthday dinner.”

Months. They’ve been together for literal months and I never knew. “Jesus.”

His desperate clutch on James’ hand loosened and he looked over, pale and shivering. He swallowed once, twice, staring at James in sudden and paralyzing terror. “Are you—are you disappointed?”

“About what?”

“That I’m…that Sirius is—” He couldn’t even get the word out and James felt like he was going to throw up.

“No. No, Remus, I am not disappointed.” He fought the lump in his throat, lacing their fingers together tighter. “This changes nothing, okay? Sirius is still my best friend. You’re still my best friend. I am so proud of you for finding happiness with him and I will personally fight anyone who says differently.”

Remus’ whole body shook with silent tears as he gripped James’ hand like a lifeline. His palm was cold and sweaty, but James kept his grip and turned off the freeway.

“What this person did was wrong, plain and simple. The only thing I’m disappointed in is that I didn’t do enough to make you feel safe coming out to me, and that is not your fault either.” He took a side road to avoid the main streets of Gryffindor, following the path to Remus’ apartment building through muscle memory.

Neither of them said a word for the rest of the drive, but Remus’ gasping, cut off breaths filled the silence well enough. James parked on the street and got out of the car after a quick look around—from what he could tell, nobody else was watching. He had to practically carry Remus up the main steps and into the elevator, slamming the button for his floor as hard as he could, like that would make it move faster.

“Do you have a key?” he asked as they hurried down the hallway. Remus nodded and pressed it into his hand with trembling fingers; it opened, and they all but collapsed inside as James shut and locked the door.

“Excuse me for a second,” Remus said, eyes glazed over and face as pale as the moon. He walked steadily to the bathroom and closed the door; not three seconds later, the muffled sound of dry heaving came through the thin wood.

James grabbed a half-drunk waterbottle from the kitchen and knit blanket off the back of the sofa, then knocked gently. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” his miserable voice replied. James closed the door behind him—it wasn’t like anyone could follow them in, but it was the thought that counted. Tears continued to streak down his cheeks as his shoulders lurched, though nothing came up.

“Deep breaths, Re,” James murmured, rubbing his back in slow circles. “Deep breaths. You’re going to be alright.”

“It hurts so much.”

“What does?”

“Everything.” Remus’ voice was louder than before and transitioned into a cracking sob as he leaned against the bathtub and wrapped his arms around himself. “Everything hurts so much and I don’t know why.”

James scooted over and sat next to him, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders; Remus curled into his side, dampening his shirt with tears and snot. James could see his phone lighting up every half-second out of the corner of his eye and resolutely ignored it. There was one person and one person only whom he wanted to talk to right now.

“You should go see him,” Remus croaked, as if he read James’ mind. “Sirius—he needs you. He doesn’t say it often but he needs you.”

“I’m going to call Lily and have her come over. Are you cool with that?” When Remus nodded, he took his phone out and swiped past all his notifications until he reached the one labeled Lils.

At Re’s apt, going to see Pads. Pls come over and keep an eye on him asap. Love you

Mere seconds later, a response pinged: on my way.

He ran his hand up Remus’ arm to get his attention. The uncontrollable sobbing had tapered off into a vacant stare and the occasional wracking shudder. “Lily will be here in a few. I’ll stay here until she—”

“No. No, you have to go see him.” Remus blinked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Please, James, just keep him safe for me. I can be alone for a bit.”

After a moment of deliberation, he sighed and rose into a crouch, taking Remus’ icy hands in his own and making eye contact with him. “Everything is going to be okay, Remus. Trust me on that.” He kissed the top of his head as he stood up, then hesitated at the bathroom door.

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

“Everything is going to be okay,” James repeated once more before walking back out and heading for the door. It’s going to be okay. They’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s not.