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gutsby · 14 days ago

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Too Close for Comfort

Pairing: Joel Miller x Babysitter!Reader

Summary: You’ve been babysitting Sarah Miller forever. One day, you’re surfing the web on her dad’s computer, and you find some…unusual things in his search history.

Or, Joel likes to jerk off to your lookalike on PornHub. It’s time you showed him what the real thing is like.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Oral (m!receiving). Creampie. Mommy/Daddy Roleplay (HEAR ME OUT!!) Brief boot humping. Squirting. Perv!Joel. Breeding kink.

Note: ‘Just call me if anyone else checks in…and by anyone, I mean any swingin dick’ is a line from No Country for Old Men

Word count: 12.7k

Purple slime had been Sarah’s idea.

It was an innocent thing, really. The four-year-old had practically been bouncing on the balls of her feet, eyes wide and shining with excitement when she’d begged—‘Can we pleeeeease?!’—and who were you to tell her no?

You’d only be breaking one small rule of Joel’s, after all. One silly little admonition he’d made before leaving for work the first day you’d started babysitting for him. That had been over a year ago, and he hadn’t even sounded that serious when he’d said it. He probably wouldn’t mind if you bent the rule this one time at Sarah’s behest.

‘Don’t go in the computer room, please.’

Don’t use Joel’s desktop. Don’t rifle through any of the drawers in Joel’s office—it was a mess, but everything was in its place, according to him. Just don’t go in there.

But in exchange for Sarah agreeing to take her nap that day without protest, you’d promised to order her slime.

Purple, gooey, glittery, sticky stuff for her new collection.

You weren’t sure when the fuck putty had become the plaything of choice for kids in Pre-K, but you hadn’t been in a place to judge; whatever Sarah wanted to do, so long as it was safe for her to play with, was totally fine by you.

It was just one rule.

Surely if Mr. Miller knew how badly his daughter wanted the slime, he’d be fine with you booting up his computer once. That was what you kept telling yourself, anyway.

What kept humming through your mind as the desktop came to life and you toggled straight for Google Chrome.

Be quick, be quiet, it’s fine. It’s fine.

Purple goo—it was safe. Innocent. Completely justifiable.

What could the sweet, old, forty-something and forever polite Joel Miller possibly have to hide on this machine that made it wrong for you to buy this one simple toy?

You reached for the keyboard and inhaled a quick breath.

Then you typed one letter, and your heart nearly seized.

P…

…ornhub.com

It was the very first thing that appeared in the search bar.

You couldn’t unsee it. Instinctively, your hand clamped over your mouth, and your eyes widened. You couldn’t help but read the four URLs that immediately dropped down below the first; they were just so garishly inviting.

Hot, Naughty Babysitter gets POUNDED by her Boss!

Slutty Babysitter Gets Railed from Behind and Loves It

Big Dick Boss Gives Babysitter a Passionate Raw Fuck

‘I’ve Never Done This!’ Babysitter Deepthroats Cock

“Oh…my gosh,” you said, words muffled by your palm.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. It was just too bizarre, too far out of character, too unlike your boss.

The man had scarcely said ten words to you altogether that didn’t relate to your job in some way or another. He rarely ever engaged in casual confab, and he certainly wasn’t the type to flirt, or make you uncomfortable in the slightest. Frankly, in all the time you’d been babysitting, you always thought you were just…invisible to Joel Miller.

Not this. Never this.

You were still staring at the screen when you realized that you’d missed one URL title from the list. It was long.

It was the most unnerving one of all, you came to see.

Babysitter Lounging Poolside in Hot Red Bikini Gets a BIG Surprise—Her Old Boss Teaches Her How to FUCK

Your hand lowered from your face. It trembled, contemplating, before coming to rest atop the mouse.

Something about this seemed familiar. Strangely…off.

You couldn’t explain it, but your head and your heart and your hand gravitated to that one odd link in particular. You hadn’t even meant to move the mouse. Or press it with your finger. But there you went, following your instincts like some dumb, brainless ditz, and then the screen was changing. Going dark with the shift to an adult site before brightening anew with the thumbnail.

It was paused on one frame. Your jaw slackened.

The girl staring back from the scene was you.

Or looked exactly, uncannily like you anyway.

It was then that you noticed what she was wearing, too—what you guessed wouldn’t be on her body for long—and you glanced down to your own shoulder. Just like your on-screen doppelgänger, you were wearing the same bikini in a bright, cherry-red hue beneath your tank top.

You wore it under your clothes damn near every day, indulging in the Millers’ backyard pool more often than not, and even being allowed to swim there on the days Sarah had summer camp—Joel had been so obliging.

So accommodating and sweet.

You never thought he’d be seeking your fucking twin online on a porn site after watching you traipse around his property wearing it. Your gut clenched; you clicked.

“Hey, sweetheart! Everything go OK?”

The voice that rumbled through the speakers was low. Male. Vaguely paternal and with a hint of a Southern lilt.

You swallowed, knowing exactly where this was going.

You weren’t sure why you were even watching when you could already predict what would become of it. The camera panned over a body identical to yours; it landed on a face that was smiling and sweet and so like your own you almost had to question whether it might not be you after all. Had you somehow forgotten this secret porn alter ego in a bout of amnesia? You kept watching.

The girl bit her bottom lip and let out the phoniest giggle.

“Yes, sir. Perfectly fine. Do you like my new bikini?”

Be so fucking serious, you thought, critically.

Then you remembered it was porn, not an Oscar-winning film. You saw the camera tilt down to her tits, and you had to admit, she had a great rack. A bit nicer than yours.

For a beat, you wondered if Joel had thought the same.

You had to batter those thoughts away, because the next second brought a big, burly hand onto the screen. It reached for the girl with her perfect, perky breasts and it kneaded them softly. No further pretense or prelude was needed—they just jumped right in and let it happen, like this was a normal thing for a babysitter and a boss to do.

Maybe in some other universe it was. In a world where a girl your age could just smile, and bat her eyes, and let them roll back gently as a whimper crossed her lips and she begged him, ‘More, daddy, more!’ this was all okay.

The man squeezed the flesh harder. She whined, and he proceeded to push the red nylon aside and expose the whole expanse of her breast—and holy shit, even the nipple looked like yours. Your mouth opened wider, and for a moment, it was like you couldn’t breathe as you watched that old, sun-kissed hand fondle the breast of a girl who looked just like you. Who was peering up at a man who sounded almost like Joel, murmuring, ‘Attagirl.’

You’d heard your boss say that once.

It had been such a silly, off-handed thing that you doubted he even remembered saying it. But one time, you’d struggled to open the passenger door to his truck before he drove you home. Once you’d narrowly managed to pry it open and slide into your seat, he’d laughed and rumbled: ‘Attagirl.’ Your face had warmed.

Just like your cheeks were doing now, all hot and bothered and desperate to hear more. Presently, the man slid the top off of the girl’s chest, and her breasts hung freely. You could hear him groan behind the camera at the sight, and not too long after that, before he could reach to touch her tits again, she was crawling on her knees toward him. Shuffling easily and expertly across the lawn chair and undoing the belt, button, and zip of his pants in a matter of seconds. A hand smoothed over her head, and you could see her preen beneath his touch.

Before she’d even wrapped her lips around his cock, your stomach was churning. Your fingers were stirring from the mouse and moving gently—again, of their own volition, it seemed—toward the waistband of your own bottoms. It was sick, admittedly. So wrong to be wanting to touch yourself to the very same video your boss had indulged in himself, in the very same chair he had done the deed. But you couldn’t help it. Your fingers slipped under the the fabric of your shorts, then your bikini, then your throat let out the tiniest noise upon seeing a cock appear on-screen. It was abnormally large, of course.

Silently, you wondered if Joel’s might not look the same. Your stomach flipped as soon as the girl took it in her mouth, and your index and middle fingers landed on your clit. You barely needed to touch to feel a jolt of pleasure.

Her head bobbed up and down. You felt powerless to do anything else but rub. And circle. And moan the slightest bit when you saw her coat his length with her shiny spit.

You heard that your noises mirrored hers. You didn’t care. Really, it felt as though you were in a trance, and you couldn’t stop watching, or touching, until you’d had your fill. Like Mr. Miller had done himself. It was all too much.

Before you even realized it, five minutes had passed, the man and woman on-screen were shifting from oral to raw, penetrative sex, and you were nearing your peak. Right before the cock that had been lodged down the girl’s throat could slide into her wet, glistening cunt, you felt your stomach lurch. You rubbed harder, watching the fat and leaking tip of the man’s cock tease through her folds, and just as he was about to slide in and you could finally find your release…a door banged open downstairs.

You almost screamed.

As quickly as you could, you yanked your hand out of your pants and clicked out of that browser even faster. The second you heard footfalls on the steps, you scampered out of there. Half-sprinting, half-tip-toeing down the hall and toward the bathroom, before halting at the door. You made your presence known with one light stomp of your foot, pretending to be turning and walking out, and as soon as you did, Joel was right there. Staring.

Sweating.

Scrubbing at his face with one weary hand, before taking a rag and wiping it through his beard. He sighed heavily.

“Long day?” you chirped while trying to mask the panic.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Joel answered, voice wan, “How’s my little terror? Asleep? She give ya any trouble?”

Just asked me to buy her a toy online and inadvertently led me to find your internet Spank Bank archives full of women who look like me. Other than that, it was fine.

“I put her down about an hour ago. She was great.”

You forced a smile, and Joel seemed to believe it.

“Perfect. Need me to give you a ride home?”

“No, no, you should stay here with Sar—”

“‘S’alright. Tommy’s right downstairs.”

Of course he’d brought him home.

“No, really, I can walk. It’s fine—”

“Don’t be silly. C’mon, kiddo.”

Kiddo.

The man had been jerking off to the thought of you for who knows how long, and now he called you ‘kiddo’?

You hated how arousing the nickname sounded from him

You despised yourself for rubbing your clit in his office.

Most of all, you loathed the way your panties had gotten wet the last time you’d climbed into his truck and heard that word crawl off of his old, drawling tongue: ‘Attagirl.’

Reluctantly, you nodded your head. You followed him downstairs and hoped the car door wouldn’t stick again.

He had to stop.

It was no longer a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ his dick would lead him straight off a cliff, and today, Joel was starting to think that precipice was looking extra nice. Tempting.

Almost as inviting as the divot he could see at the small of your back, glimmering with a couple hot beads of sweat under the midafternoon sun. He swallowed.

Sarah was at camp today. You’d had the time to yourself, and the weather was blistering hot, and of course, where else would you be but his backyard? He’d told you ad nauseum, ever since you started babysitting his kid, that his pool was open to you whenever you so chose to go.

Presently, Joel wished he could revoke that invitation.

Seeing how you were flipped on your stomach, body all soft and warm and splayed out on one of his deck chairs—wearing that fucking red swimsuit, of all things—Joel was left to ogle from his office window, and inside, he felt like a certified pervert. Arguably, he was. His old, worn hands had all but glided to find his mouse as soon as he’d sat down at his desk and saw you out there, and no sooner had his cursor found Chrome than his cock started to stir. He’d wanted to watch. If not you in all your bare, sun-baked glory, then surely the woman he could see getting her throat and cunt stuffed on his screen.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Was he really that much of a gooner he couldn’t let his kid’s babysitter lounge outside without stroking his dick?

Shit. He had the bottle of lotion in one hand and the box of tissues in the other in no time at all. He ripped three free Kleenex aside and reached for his mouse once more.

He was pissed at himself. He toggled over to the Hub with a grunt, and in no time at all, had you pulled up.

Joel liked to pretend it was you, anyway.

If he couldn’t have the sweet young thing every swinging dick in this town would’ve killed to have himself, he could rub one out to a girl exactly like you. He could fantasize.

He could skip the video to 8:53 on the dot, as he always did, and he could rub himself raw. It wouldn’t take long.

He always fast-forwarded to that exact part, without fail, because she moaned like you then. He’d never forget it.

It had almost been six months since it happened, and he still remembered that sound as clear as day. You’d been hauling your backpack off the couch in the living room, having stuffed the thing full with more school supplies than you could feasibly carry, and Joel had been in the kitchen, unseen. You’d lifted the bag with effort, and once you had, you let out a soft but audible whine. You dropped the bag back down to your feet, and when you bent to try again, you’d moaned fully. It was like the stretch had made you feel good, or something. You’d huffed and managed to get the weight slung over your back with modest success, then left, but Joel had been changed. Too quickly had he retreated to his office and swore to find any clip where a moan sounded like that.

“Please! Feels like a fucking dre-e-e-e-e-eam—oh, OH!”

Granted, the dialogue was cheesy, but the sound after it was identical to the one you’d made. Joel repeated it.

He hadn’t even noticed, but he’d already lathered his hand and cock with lotion. He was scrubbing vigorously while your twin wiggled her hips and begged her co-star to put it in, to quit teasing her pussy like that, can’t you see I’m practically dripping for you, daddy? Look at it!

Unfortunately, Joel’s head was turned the other direction—away from the screen, and toward the window—watching you where you sat out on the lawn.

He stroked harder. He groaned.

You had just turned onto your back. Your tits looked incredible. Joel reckoned they’d look even better with his dick pushed up between them, and at the thought, his mouth watered. His lips were slightly parted, and he feared he might drool. What a sight he must have been then: jaw slack, lids heavy, cock in hand, and moan after moan bubbling out of his throat. He got closer to climax.

“Gonna teach ya, honey. Teach ya how to please a man.”

It wasn’t long after that that Joel heard the girl whine in pleasure—the man behind her had notched in the first inch and told her to behave—and meanwhile, he watched your chest rise and fall, rise and fall outside. It was calm. Unlike the girl being taught how to fuck poolside, you remained untouched. Spotless. Placid and serene while your hands picked up a magazine and began flipping through it. While Joel’s orgasm crested inside him, he wondered if you’d ever want to try something like that. Roleplay. Or would it be fake at all? Had you ever been touched by a man, shown the best ways to give and receive pleasure, or was it all brand new, like it was supposed to be for the woman on his screen? Joel panted, and he fucked his hand harder. He groaned.

“Oh, daddy, it’s so big! Feels so good going inside me!”

“You love gettin’ fucked by an older man, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy, yes! Please don’t stop—oh, OHHH!”

Joel wanted to be the only older man you had.

If he wasn’t the first, he sure as fuck could be the last. Give you all the dizzying, euphoric feelings your body deserved and stretch you open gently for the taking.

He could teach you so much, ruin you for any oth—

Shit.

What the fuck was this asshole doing here?

At the back gate, he saw his neighbor Dieter.

The man strolled across the lawn, and Joel’s orgasm receded in a blink. He was walking right over to you.

No. No, no, no. Joel released his dick from its vice grip and felt the thing twitch in indignation. Meanwhile, the sound of skin on skin continued to flood his eardrums from out of the computer speakers, where the happy babysitter-boss duo was hitting a brutal pace. The girl let out one over-the-top shriek of pleasure, and Joel clicked pause. He toggled out of the browser. Then he redirected his gaze out the office window, where his own girl was being accosted by Dieter. His blood boiled with anger.

Who did this creep think he was? The man never so much as looked Joel’s way or approached his property unless it was to ask to be ‘lent’ some booze or else ask after some friend, relative, or coworker Dieter wanted to be introduced to—he was perennially unemployed and a fuckboy bachelor to his core. The last Joel had heard, he’d spent the last year in Los Angeles, or Paris, or some other too-big city to chase his singing and acting dreams

And here he was now, hitting on his poor, defenseless babysitter. Joel wouldn’t stand for that in any world.

Though his dick was still erect, it had softened some, too. His rage facilitated that, and him shoving his length back in his jeans, zipping it up, and all but punching the desktop off made it spongier still. He walked like he was mad at the floor beneath his boots. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so defensive—he had just been rubbing one out to the sight of you less than five minutes ago—but now wasn’t the time for thinking. He had to act.

Protect, if he had to.

What if his neighbor wanted to go for a swim, too?

Joel would drown the man with his two bare hands if he so much as reached for your bikini-clad form. He stalked loudly down the hall and searched for a less sweaty shirt to wear, then some deodorant, then a comb. He peered in the bathroom mirror and saw his black-and-grey locks all out of sorts, and for a second, he contemplated taking a shower. You’d probably be able to smell his unsatisfied desire from outside. He looked, and felt, a bit unhinged.

Joel decided he didn’t care, before plodding downstairs.

Outside, you lay in the same position he’d seen you last. Your hand was shielding your face. You were smiling.

And beside you, Dieter was grinning even bigger.

Joel made a beeline down the porch steps, then across the lawn, like his life might’ve depended on it. Scowling.

“—but getting cast in Gladiator II would’ve been wild—”

Of course Dieter was yapping about his failed acting career. Of course. Joel could hear him drone on as he approached, though he didn’t register a word of what he said. Instead, he waved a hand. He feigned a calm tone:

“Dieter! How’s it going?”

And he slowed down, too.

Just as he drew in, his neighbor volleyed a look his way. Joel couldn’t miss how his smile twitched down a little.

“Joel.”

Accepting a cordial hand in greeting.

“Doing alright, how ‘bout yourself?”

Joel nodded fine, just fine and offered some offhand remark about not having seen him since last summer, and Dieter couldn’t resist the chance to puff up and mention a school he’d been attending. Joel didn’t hear it, or give a shit. His gaze was already trained on you. Your own flitted from Dieter, to Joel, then to Dieter again, and your lips were smiling kindly enough. You seem humored.

“Mr. Bravo just got back from Berlin,” you beamed.

Then Dieter met your look and shook his head.

“Dieter, sweetie, Dieter. Or Dee, if you want.”

Joel almost wanted to vomit in his mouth.

“Germany, huh? What brings you here?”

No sense in beating around the bush.

Joel meant to ask why Dieter was here, in his backyard, with his babysitter, of course. Why the fuck he was eyeing you like that, like your tits were two Emmys and the only way to earn it himself was to stare as long, and as hard, as possible. Joel cleared his throat instinctively.

Dieter blinked and cast a glance back to him.

“Oh, here. Yeah. I, um…I just wanted to see if you had that— that—” He snapped his fingers, “That leafblower.”

Leafblower?

He was so full of shit.

“My leafblower,” Joel repeated.

It was fucking July, for crying out loud.

Evidently, his neighbor didn’t seem to care. He met Joel’s gaze with an even look, and he nodded his head.

He doubled down: “Yeah, the leafblower. I’ve had some debris pile up in my yard since I’ve been gone, y’know.”

“Are you gonna be in Austin long? Or are you going back overseas once you’ve had that casting call?” you asked.

You cocked your head with genuine curiosity. Joel grit his teeth, but he tried not to let his discontent show anyplace else on his face. A muscle might’ve jumped when he saw how smugly Dieter smirked at your intrigue.

“Oh, I’ll be here long enough, don’t you worry,” he said.

That was it.

Joel gestured to the shed in the back corner of the yard, about to tell Dieter that the leafblower was in there, go knock yourself out, when his neighbor cut in once again.

“In the meantime, maybe I’ll have you babysit for me. I hate to steal Sarah’s pal, but maybe you can split your time between my place and Joel’s. What do you think?”

You blinked a little quicker, like you weren’t quite sure what to say at first. Joel took the chance to interject.

“You don’t have any kids, Bravo,” he practically growled.

“I know. I’ve got cats, though,” Dieter just grinned back, flitting a cheeky look to you. “And you have no idea how naughty those pussycats can get while a man’s away.”

That was really all Joel could take. He didn’t even let you answer; he just pointed to the shed and made a fist with his other hand at his side. His chest was heaving breaths.

“You and her can chat when she’s off the clock, how ‘bout that? Leafblower’s in the shed. Door’s unlocked.”

His words didn’t invite protest of any kind. Dense as he was, Dieter probably sensed that he’d ticked his neighbor off with the suggestive comment to his babysitter, and he backed away, both literally and figuratively. He bid a quick, cavalier goodbye with a shit-eating grin stretching his lips, and then he went to the storage shed and left.

You were still blinking, still creasing your brows tight, by the time the back gate had slammed shut behind him. You watched after him, teeth gnawing at your cheek.

“He seemed like a funny gu—”

“What do you think you’re doin’?”

Joel’s words appeared to sting like a slap in the face. You jerked your head back to him, seeming to say, ‘What?’

“You know what. Don’t play innocent now,” Joel griped.

You continued to stare, then started to shake your head.

“Mr. Miller—”

“Don’t Mr. Miller me, either,” he snapped, far shorter than he’d ever spoken to you before. His nostrils flared, “You’re old enough to know better. You did all of that.”

“All of what?” you shot back.

“Attracted men like Dieter into my yard.”

“He’s your neighbor! What do you expect?”

Offense marred your tone. He didn’t entirely blame you.

“No, no—he never sticks his nose over here unless he sees something he wants. You were flaunting yourself.”

At that, your mouth fell open.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Miller? Are you serious?”

“Language, young lady—”

“I don’t give a shit.” You stood up from your chair. Your eyes flashed with ire. Just like his hands had before, yours curled into fists. You stood your ground with him. “You invited me to come swim here whenever I wanted to. You did that, asshole. What did you expect me to sunbathe in, army fatigues and fucking combat boots?”

Joel blinked hard at that. He didn’t like being mocked.

“Still shouldn’t be that damn skimpy. And I said lang—”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, dad. Don’t act like you’re mine.”

Don’t act like you’re mine.

Joel’s chest tightened. His gaze seared into yours, almost as though he were as angry as you were now, but deep down, the man only felt remorse. Resentment. Whatever rage he harbored now was reserved for himself

He shouldn’t have gone there.

He shouldn’t have masked his own jealousy with pseudo paternal scolding. He looked like a dickhead doing that.

And you weren’t shy to let him know it in the slightest.

Presently, your finger was jabbed in his face. You were planted less than two feet from where he stood, and though you were noticeably dwarfed by his size, your next words had him beat by a foot, if he’d had to guess.

“I watch your kid, Joel. I am not your daughter. If you don’t want me hanging around here in my hot red bikini, then you can just say that. But don’t blame me for him.”

Joel bristled at your words, though he wasn’t sure why. When he opened his mouth to speak again, you added:

“And don’t blame me for that, either.”

Suddenly, he realized your finger was pointed at his legs.

Or, rather, what was poking up stiff between them.

Joel’s cheeks heated up to a thousand degrees.

You’d just caught him. You’d seen his arousal.

And you were turning on your heels again.

Before Joel could even try to summon the words to his tongue, you were grabbing your things. Shoving your shoes onto your feet. And Joel had only to stand there.

Feeling stupid and inert beside you.

As you went to the back gate, he somehow managed to call that you didn’t have a car, let him drive you back.

You didn’t even dignify his words with a verbal response.

You just raised your middle finger over your shoulder.

And then the gate crashed shut behind you.

You would be walking home that day.

Two big eyes and round cheeks were all you could see.

Then, they darted beneath the covers and were gone.

“Oh no, where’d sweet Sarah go?” you wondered aloud. Sitting at the edge of the bed and pretending not to see where she’d just dipped her head under the blankets, you furrowed your brows and proceeded to pat around you.

Everywhere you felt with your hands, you completely ignored the big lump under the duvet. It was a game.

A silly one at that—hide-and-go-seek was generally best left to places where you couldn’t figure out her location in the blink of an eye. But you played along. You heard a soft giggle. You continued feeling around the twin-sized mattress like this was the most bewildering puzzle of all.

“Whe-ere’s Sarah?” you sing-songed.

You heard a shuffling of limbs, a sniffle.

Your palm tapped right by those little feet.

And as soon as you did, she screamed. At four years old, Sarah hadn’t quite mastered the art of being stealthy.

You’d cut her some slack. You always had.

Blindly passing where her body lay, you glided to the opposite side of her bed and tapped inquiringly there.

“Is she…here?” You got a pillow.

“No!” Sarah shrieked back.

Such a helpful, obliging kid. She’d make a terrible spy.

“Is she…up here?” You rapped the headboard twice.

“No!!” she squealed.

You glanced over at the clock on her nightstand. It was approaching bedtime. Taking note of this, and knowing you couldn’t keep up with the charade for much longer, you let out a sigh. You stood from the bed, looked around the room with dramatic éclat, then started to walk away.

“Okay…I guess if Sarah’s not here I’ll have to leave…”

The second you said that, Sarah threw the covers back. She jumped up in bed, and she stomped her little feet.

“No! No! I’m here! I’m here!”

You spun on your heels, eyes wide with faux surprise.

“Sarah!”

And then you rushed back over, just in time to watch her drop to the bed and flash you a wide, exuberant smile.

“Your Sarah,” she corrected.

She adored it when you called her that. Your Sarah.

You nodded your head in agreement, “My Sarah. Sorry.”

She nodded too, like she’d just reminded you of the most important thing, and then she slipped back under her covers. She let you drag the purple duvet over her frame, all the way up to her chin, and when she was all snug inside, she gave another smile. She kicked her feet again.

“Stay,” she commanded, tone still sugar-sweet.

“I will, baby. ‘Til your daddy gets back, I’ll be here.”

“I mean forever!” Sarah dragged out the last syllable, and, not yet content with the answer you’d proffered, tried swaying you again, still more emphatic, “For-ever!”

If your daddy wasn’t such an ass, I might consider it.

Instead, you smiled back at her and shook your head. You smoothed the hair away from her face, then you leaned in and kissed her forehead with a gentle peck.

“Then my family would miss me. I gotta see them.”

“Says who?” Sarah’s pout was unmistakable.

Before you could reply, she cut in again.

“You can be my family. My mommy.”

Your throat constricted at those words. You weren’t sure what to say, or how to assuage your sweet Sarah then.

Again, you were about to open your mouth to speak, when your pint-sized companion piped up again. This time, her voice was softer. Surprisingly delicate and low.

“I want you to be my mommy,” she told you quietly, “Then you’ll live here. With me and daddy. And you’ll never have to go home again and we can play all day!”

Your heart ached. You kissed the tip of her nose and turned away, momentarily, to hide the hurt on your face.

Sarah Miller deserved much more in a mother than you.

When you looked up again, her grin was big. Hopeful.

“Don’t you wanna be my mommy too?” she asked.

“‘Course I do, baby,” you answered without hesitation, “But…don’t you think your daddy should have a say too?”

Somehow, her face got even brighter.

“He will! He— he…”

Sarah trailed off a second, as if considering her words. She didn’t understand what marriage meant. You’d help.

“Your daddy,” you finished for her, speaking slow and soft as you leaned in close, “is a good man who deserves a good woman to make your mommy. Don’t you agree?”

She bit the inside of her cheek.

“Yeah, but—”

“And a mommy’s gotta be someone he really loves.”

“But he…”

She was thinking again. You could tell. You pressed on.

“He is gonna find someone great someday. He’ll love you and her to bits, and y’all will get to play together all day.”

“But he loves you!” Sarah cried, at length.

A beat.

Your breath faltered.

The girl’s words had scarcely hung in the air for more than two seconds, and their meaning hardly registered in your brain before your own were coming out fast. Certain

“Your daddy doesn’t love me, baby. I’m just his friend.”

“Yes, he does! He told me so himself!”

Again, you shook your head.

“You misunderstood him, sweetie.”

You tried to smooth her hair back again, but Sarah’s head bucked away. She scrunched up her nose in clear protest and refused to let you cradle her face until she’d spoken her piece. When she did, her voice was pleading all over:

“Daddy loves you, he told me. You can be my mommy.”

And for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, you felt your heart balloon in your chest. Your gut clenched—but not for the reasons she or you wanted it to. The truth was that you didn’t have the words to tell a four-year-old girl that her father didn’t love you like that at all, that his head and his heart were anywhere but with you, and that, if you were being honest, you were furious with him. How he could so much as hint at such nonsense was beyond you. His little girl dreamed of having a mother. It was stupid and senseless and cruel to even suggest that that woman could be you. You sighed.

But, despite your every thought and feeling to the contrary, you knew you had to soothe the girl with some small semblance of hope. Something to hold her over for the night, so she didn’t cry herself to sleep thinking that you didn’t want to be her mommy. Gently, you leaned in.

You lifted the covers back up from where they’d fallen. You tucked them snug around her torso, and you paused.

Your tone was measured and soft when you spoke next:

“I don’t know about your daddy, baby. What I do know is that I would be the luckiest lady alive to get to be your mommy, alright? I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

And you meant it. You saw one look light up her face, and every ounce of anger that had been provoked by her father was forgotten in an instant. Her grin ensured it.

“Anywhere,” she parroted back.

“Anywhere,” you said, again.

Then you kissed the crown of her head, wished her sweet dreams, cut the little light off. You left the room quietly.

It was only when you were out of there and far enough away down the hallway that your skin started to burn.

You couldn’t help it. Anger was fast to trickle back.

This feeling was only compounded when the next moment brought a sound to the landing on the stairs. You glanced over down the hall, muscles all tensing at once, and when you saw him there, it was as though your rage just bubbled over. Your jaw clenched; your stomach flipped in a way so decidedly unlike how it had done for him two days ago, in his office, and suddenly, your throat was working again. You kept your voice low this time, keen not to draw Sarah’s attention out there, but the words you used were clear. Quiet. Doubtlessly effective.

Even in the dark, you saw his brows jump when he heard:

“Joel, we need to talk.”

It had been two years since he’d had a woman in here.

Joel wished it were under any circumstances but these.

Presently, your eyes were ablaze. The two of you had just stepped into his room and shut the door behind you, and with the click of a latch, you hadn’t thought to hold it in:

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

He blinked.

Well, many things.

Joel wouldn’t have had the space to explain it all if you’d given him a week, and still, he had to say something. He blinked again, made a sound in his throat as if to clear it, then shook his head. His shoulders sagged in his jacket.

“I…I’m sorry.”

For the other day. For getting caught up in his own anger and taking it out on you. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was apologizing for now, or what he should say, but he thought it best to start there. He shrugged his jacket off and set it over the back of the nearest chair. He turned to you again, where you were standing with a warning look.

“Don’t say sorry to me,” you said. “Say sorry to Sarah.”

Sarah?

Before he could speak, you went on.

“You’re just setting her up for heartbreak, you know that? I mean how selfish— how stupid could you possibly be?”

You pursed your lips like tears might threaten if you didn’t. This caught him off guard—his daughter? What could he have said or done to hurt her in any of this?

“What are you talking about?”

“You said I’d be her mom, Joel!”

He winced. You furrowed your brows and set your mouth in a line—really trying to fight the emotion behind it—and, while all the rest of you bristled in anticipation for what was to come, Joel softened. He didn’t mean to. He didn’t want to be the guy who lost his head at the thought of seeing you cry and forget the whole reason you were upset with him in the first place, but he couldn’t help it. Though you looked like you wanted to kill him right then, Joel drew closer. He shifted toward you.

“Did— did she, uh…call you…mommy?” he said, pained.

“Yeah. And you let her believe she could,” you spat.

He hadn’t meant to do that, either. Sarah had been calling you that for a while when you weren’t around to hear, and after enough times telling her otherwise, he’d just stopped correcting her on it. Sarah wanted a mother. You were the closest thing she had, and who was he to sabotage that? At the time, he’d just wanted to…pretend.

That was a running theme he had going with you.

Right now, you didn’t seem to care about that.

You just rolled your eyes in that cool, juvenile way when you didn’t hear a response from him, and he had to bite his tongue from saying something worse. He hated when you did that. It made him remember your age—the reality of you being his kid’s babysitter and how guilty he should feel for wanting to do something more about that eyeroll.

He wasn’t your father.

You weren’t Sarah’s mother, either.

You most certainly weren’t the girl on his computer screen, as much as he would’ve liked to see you that way, and even though you were standing here in his bedroom.

That was all fantasy. Make-believe. This was his reality.

You were visibly pissed and wouldn’t budge an inch.

“Is it really so bad if she says it?” he grit out.

Your eyes widened. You scoffed.

“Of course it is, Joel!”

You backed away.

He hated seeing that, too. He hated having you move from him, not toward him, wearing that scowl on your lips as you did. His fingers twitched—itched—at his side.

“Sarah’s young. She doesn’t…mean anything by it. She’ll grow out of it soon enough. And I don’t want to hurt her.”

“You’ll hurt her even worse by not telling her the truth!” you snapped. You sounded exasperated saying it now. “We’re not a family. I’m the goddamn babysitter, and— and— you’re Sarah’s father. Act like it, for Christ’s sake.”

That set his teeth on edge.

Joel felt the urge to fight back, but narrowly refrained. He flexed his fingers, and he bit down hard to keep the vitriol at bay. Because that was exactly what fathers did. They controlled their anger; even when faced with a smart-mouthed babysitter who wore his patience out.

Even when your arms were folded over your chest in that impossibly tight, white tank, and your tits looked like they might spill from the fabric at any given moment. Joel swallowed and refocused his gaze before going on.

“Don’t tell me how to be a father.”

Something flared in your eyes.

“Why? I’m fucking right.”

“Language, young lady.”

That only seemed to irk you worse; your hands flew up.

“Yeah, well,” you started, accusing, “If we’re playing house, I might as well be allowed to say what I like.”

“We are not playing hous—”

“But you want to, right? That’s why I’m always here.”

“No, I need a—”

“Maid? Mommy?”

You paced closer. Joel’s jaw clenched.

“Obedient little housewife?” you sneered.

Your eyes were shining like two derisive pools. With every blink, you seemed to mock him more. Goad him on and beg for your reward, though you hardly knew what it was.

“C’mon, Mr. Miller,” you chided, voice low, “What is it?”

What he was, or what he’d stand to take. It wasn’t this.

“Keep runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth, I’ll show you what.”

The words flew off his tongue before he could stop them.

It was a reflex—something that had been stewing in his mind since the second you’d set foot in his room and went on provoking him. But it was wrong, of course.

He was wrong for even thinking it, much less saying it.

Now your eyes were round, and your mouth was slightly agape, and your brain was likely working a thousand miles a minute to process what had just been said.

Joel had to fix it.

“That— that ain’t—” he began, already hating himself.

To his surprise, and embarrassment, a laugh rang out.

Its sound was explosive and short. It split the air with such hot, bitter force that his words dropped off. His gaze had no choice but to remain plastered on yours.

“Oh, I bet.”

You grinned, humorless.

You didn’t appear shocked in the slightest. In fact, his remark seemed only to embolden you then, as you teased that smile wider, drew yourself closer, and tipped your chin up. You looked doubly enlivened by his last admission. Vindicated in some strange, inexplicable way. Your breaths were warm, and the swell of your breasts came to hover just inches from his chest when the last thing he needed to happen, happened between you next.

You pointed again. Joel didn’t need to look down.

“‘Don’t tell me how to be a father,’” you repeated his words from before, voice taking on a low, faux baritone.

Your amusement was clear. His cock was hard.

It seemed you’d never let the latter slip past you.

“Is that what we’re gettin’ at here, Mr. Miller?” you asked, tone now precocious. Probing, “You showing me what a great daddy you are, and me being the mommy you al—”

“No.”

Joel pushed off. He didn’t want to hear another thing.

He headed straight for the door, prepared to usher you out of it. This conversation had taken an irreparable turn.

When he reached for the handle, though, he had to stop. Your voice made him stop, echoing from the opposite end of the room. Joel turned, and he saw you on his bed.

“I’m just curious. Is that really what you meant?”

You were sitting at the foot of it, legs casually hanging off. Your look was innocent, and still more knowing than Joel could bear. The heat left to swirl in his groin nearly suffocated him below the waist, and he inhaled deeply.

“Mean what? I didn’t…mean anything.”

His touch fell from the doorknob all the same.

Your feet were swinging when he faced you completely.

“Just like you didn’t mean for Sarah to call me mommy?”

Maybe he had meant it more than he let on. He couldn’t answer. Joel felt every bit the creep he knew himself to be—decades your senior and letting you rest on his bed, soft, smooth legs kicking back and forth as he watched.

He was good at that, wasn’t he? Watching. Waiting. Aching from the comfort of his home office while he watched those filthy clips on repeat, images of you flitting through his mind at every stretch, moan, and whimper. His will was powerless to his perverted needs. He had only to defend himself against their influence by planting his feet firmly in place and refusing to move.

“You wanna teach me, though. Don’t you, daddy?”

It was as though your words reached him from another place. Somewhere deep within the recesses of his mind—his memory—and the tone of it stirred him. It was familiar, in ways you couldn’t have possibly understood. Unless you were living in his head, there was no way in hell you could’ve known what those lines meant to him.

‘Gonna teach ya, honey. Teach ya how to please a man.’

It made him ache.

Joel still wouldn’t move, but you could come to him.

He blinked once, and you were there. Off the bed. Walking to him. Down on your knees in front of him.

This had to be the work of his own sick imagination.

He groaned at just the sight of your smile, curving slow.

And then you peeled off your top, revealing the bright, nylon, cherry-red fabric he’d seen far too many times on his computer screen and off it—on you, by his pool. Joel sucked in a breath and shook his head, gaze darkening.

“Thought you didn’t wanna play mommy,” he growled.

If this was all just in his head, he could talk as he wanted.

“I don’t,” you answered him soberly. Suddenly, your chin was in his hand. Your eyes were still glistening up at him. “But you need to get this out of your system. Just once.”

Out of his system.

Joel was out of his fucking mind with desire.

“Just once?” His voice cracked as he said it.

Only one time. That was alright. Forgivable.

From what he half-believed to be a figment of his own perverted mind came the word from your lips: ‘Once.’

The next had the thumb that was cupping your chin slipping between those same lips. Still smiling while your mouth slid down to his knuckle. You sucked him gently.

And in just one glimpse, one fleeting second on that lone, thick thumb, the sight below him had every other obscene thing entrenched in his memory beat by a mile. You were better than everything else he’d seen or tried to dream up. You were real, he hoped, sliding your shiny wet lips up and down the surface of his skin, and when you pried them off, and you asked for his cock, he had no choice but to oblige. He had to rack his brain for words.

This was his babysitter, his daughter’s companion, his—

“Sweet fuckin’ girl,” he said when he first felt you there.

Before he even knew what became of his belt, buckle, and zip, the base of his cock was in your hand, and your lips were hovering precariously over the tip. Your breaths were soft and hot. Your graze drank him in with curiosity.

“Should I kiss you here, daddy?” Your mouth lowered.

“Right there, sweetie,” Joel breathed out.

He truly couldn’t believe it when the warmth of you enveloped his tip. When the first lick of your tongue came to collect the bead of precum sitting at the slit and he damn near bucked his hips up. You licked at it again.

And again. And again. And again.

You whimpered lightly, enjoying the taste.

The second you pulled your mouth away, Joel hissed.

“Baby, please—” he started, tone strained.

“What? Where does daddy want it?”

The question was so innocent.

It was clear you wanted to hear him guide you through it, as evidenced by the way your lips twitched at his hand smoothing down and over the crown of your head. Joel held it like he might never get this chance again, and, at once, his voice lowered along with it. He scarcely recognized himself with how gently he spoke then.

“Let daddy show you,” he said, “Open your mouth.”

And you did.

Your jaw fell slack, your lips split apart, and your eyes peered up with a wide and open stare. In a look, you seemed already to say that you trusted him to fill it.

No sight on a screen could’ve made him so hard.

He fed you an inch, eyes locked with yours as he did. His cock slid in another, and another, then stopped. He pulled back. The wetness and the warmth of your mouth nearly did him in, and the way you whined for more had him fisting your hair tight. Trying to keep his composure.

“That alright, honey? Feel…nice goin’ in?”

“Yes, daddy,” you hummed obediently.

Your mouth opened wider.

“More, please?”

Your tongue was flattened in a second. Joel slid back in, and his shaft was greeted by the slick, shiny cushion of the muscle underneath. He sank in. He invaded every inch of your mouth he could find, and he breathed out.

“Just like that, sweetie. Takin’ daddy so well.”

What little gurgles he heard stifled between your lips at that, spit drooling gently from either side, he only found more endearing. When he pulled back and saw strings of your spit trail after its path, he felt delirious. You were real, coating the whole throbbing length of his cock with your saliva and your precious soft whines, and you were sweet for him. Pliant for his cock. Jaw obliging and inviting and hanging wide open for him to fuck again.

He let you have it. He slid in once, grazed your throat, slid out again. He cupped your face in his hands and thumbed your cheeks. He coaxed your lips wider for him. You took it all well; you responded to every tender little directive from the man who was stuffing your mouth, ‘Faster now, atta girl’ and ‘Take daddy deeper’ and ‘Keep that pretty mouth open and those eyes on me.’ Joel was so caught up in the feel and the friction and the intimacy of every passing moment that he almost didn’t see when you started to shift your legs. Parting them.

And, right when the head of his cock had reached the back of your mouth and was teasing down your wet, open throat, he felt it fully: your whimpering plea.

You grinding your cunt against the toe of his boot, and peering up at him with eyes all wet, wide, and needy.

You rutted your hips. It looked like you couldn’t help it.

It seemed as though it were a mere spasm of the body that you couldn’t control—like his cock down your throat was too good for your sense or your oversexed mind to handle. He’d scarcely stirred in place when he felt you humping him, whines rippling down his length with every bob of your head as you keened for some kind of release.

Joel had never seen anything like it. He didn’t know what to say or do except stroke his hand over your scalp and pin you with a look. His cock twitched in your mouth.

“Is that how we ask to get fucked in this house?”

His tone surprised him with how steady it stayed.

Your mouth still full of him, you tried to shake your head.

What came next was more instinct than logical thought; Joel pulled you off his cock and onto your feet. His touch on your body was soft. He couldn’t pinpoint a reason for his being so gentle, but every second that elapsed now seemed to demand it. He was teaching you to please. There could be no better place for kindness than here.

He’d lead you to the bed and guide you down himself. He’d tell you to open your mouth and then he would kiss it, and lick inside it. Maybe spit inside it, too. He’d tug at your bikini straps, watch your breasts give way to the pressure of the pull before bouncing right back in place. He’d take off your top. Latch his mouth around a nipple, swirl his tongue across the skin, and he’d kiss you again.

Joel did all these things, and you let him. You met him with whimpers, with wide open legs, and eventually, with your feet digging into the covers beneath you, begging, ‘Daddy, please put it in.’ Your gaze was febrile as you did.

Whether you meant it, or were simply pretending for him, gave Joel pause. Just as you’d tried to yank your jean shorts down your legs, he dropped his hands to your own. He stopped them in their path. He leaned closer.

“Do you know what you and me are about to do, hm?”

His question was barbed but sweet. Testing the waters.

Were you game to keep playing house? Did you want it?

These things mattered to Joel; whether the wetness between your legs was meant for him and him alone. Whether you needed him there, like the breath in your lungs. He wouldn’t fuck you if he wasn’t. He might feel lonely at times—desperate to feel your cunt squeeze his too-old cock like your life depended on it—but he was a man who wanted to be wanted, too. An instant of clarity hit, and suddenly he was asking it, plain and in your face:

“Do you wanna do what mommies and daddies do?”

Your mouth fell slack. Again. You nodded.

Either you were the single best actress, or you wanted it. Hoping desperately for the latter, Joel kissed the side of your face. You turned your head, quickly, and captured his lips in yours instead. You pulled him down to you.

“Like this?” you murmured, words muffled against him.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and then ground your clothed lower half with his—Joel’s cock was tucked haphazardly back in his boxers, and his jeans, unzipped, hung just underneath them around his hips. He felt like a teen again, clothes thrown askew and hormones all wild.

Except he wasn’t. He was a grown man, in his own bed, with his child fast asleep down the hall. He thanked his lucky stars that their rooms were as far apart as possible, and that he no longer had to worry about the prying eyes of his mom or dad trying to catch him out after curfew. This wasn’t high school, or a night out in college, or the time a condom had split and Sarah had been conceived.

Now if he could just make sure she didn’t get a sibling…

Kidding.

“Pill,” Joel choked out, just as your legs drew him in to meet your movements, “Are— are you on the pill, or—”

Am I going to have to hit up a Texaco at 10 PM to get some rubbers and admit I haven’t gotten laid in a year?

You grinned.

“IUD.”

That works, too.

Joel probably shouldn’t have seemed so eager. He probably shouldn’t have taken your face in his hands and kissed you so hard, either. But his skin was ablaze; his eyes were wild; his limbs were molten; and his head—you didn’t want to know where it was. What he was thinking.

What he wanted to tell you while he tugged his cock back out and started working his hand up and down it. It felt too intimate, too depraved, to be spoken aloud.

Then, to his shock, you said the words yourself:

“Show me how you’d make me a mommy anyway.”

If not for protection. If not for common sense. If not for that thrumming, pulsing, warning repetition in his head: Do not get her pregnant. Do not give your kid a sibling.

But this was all pretend, wasn’t it?

Joel yanked down your shorts, practically tore them from your legs, and situated himself between them, breathing hard and fast, before he nodded his head and kissed you. With his one free hand, he held the base of his dick, and he guided it closer to your slick, puffy, aching entrance through the barrier of your red bikini. He rutted his hips.

You were bare beneath him, save for that one scrap of fabric between your lower half and his. You smiled, and you wriggled your body against his, and you drew him in. Joel groaned when he felt you slide your bottoms to the slide and let him feel, for the first time, how wet you were. How warm, inviting, and tight that cunt must be and how badly he needed it. How desperately he had to be buried inside that heat—he all but panted the words:

“Can daddy put it in?”

You spread your legs wider. You nodded.

Then he did. Without one breath of a thought to the contrary, he pushed the head of himself past the fabric, through your folds, into that wet and precious spot he’d only dreamed he’d ever feel, and he let out a full-throated moan. He felt your walls contract, heard the tender little squelch of your body making room for his length, and he damn near blew his whole load right there. You felt good.

Your chest rose with a breath, and your eyes widened.

Like you hadn’t just had him down your throat, drenched in your spit and gliding in and out: “He’s so big, daddy.”

Joel’s lips kissed your cheek. His tip kissed your cervix. You whined a little, and he pulled you in closer to him.

“I know, honey, I know,” he cooed, rocking you with the softest motions, “Ain’t that what mommy likes, though?”

Your lips parted again. A strangled whine of assent slid out, just as his hips withdrew himself back to that shiny, bulbous head, and then he fucked back in. Back and forth, back and forth, Joel sent your body bouncing with every thrust. He felt you clench, and the strokes sped up.

The bed creaked underneath. It seemed to shake the whole room. In truth, there wasn’t a thought in Joel’s head except for the ones relating to you and how good you took his cock, but somewhere, not far off, there was the instinct of a father idling too. With every stab of the headboard against the wall and every moan of yours under him he had to smother with his lips, he was reminded you two had to be quiet. He leaned in.

Grazing your ear with a stubbled chin, and fucking you gently into his bed, Joel sank his weight even lower.

“Can mommy stay real quiet for daddy? Can she try?”

From the way your eyes were glazed, he expected you to nod. And you did, just barely, heels digging in the mound of his ass and your fingers finding his sides. But then you slid a touch up his ribs; you squeezed the flesh. You let him pound your cunt for a few more precious seconds, and just when he thought that was the end of it, you tilted your head to him. Your nose bumped his, and you grinned, flashing the single most pretty, fucked-out look.

“Feels like a fucking dream, daddy,” you breathed.

Joel balked. He almost stopped right then and there.

Please! Feels like a fucking dre-e-e-e-e-eam—oh, OH!

Oh.

You couldn’t have known that.

There was no shot you knew where the fuck those words were from. Or what they meant. Joel furrowed his brow and kept rutting his hips, hands tightening in the sheets beside your head as the scene from his naughty all-time favorite film flickered briefly through his mind. No shot.

Then your legs wound around the backs of his even tighter, and your eyes were all but shining with a fresh, twisted glint. With a measured tone, you went on for him:

“He’s so big, daddy. Feels so good going inside me.”

You even mimicked her tone. Joel paled above you.

His hips stalled a moment, and your cunt hugged him tight. Your teeth nipped at his chin, playfully, and before he could even try to speak again, your lips were there.

At his ear, whispering what he’d dreaded hearing most.

“You should really clear those PornHub searches after you’re done. Or at least lock your office while I’m here.”

Joel’s thrusts stopped completely.

He was about to search for his voice again, when your walls clamped down around him, and his vision went swimming. His cock pulsed inside you, and he groaned.

Then his hips picked up; it wasn’t a conscious decision. He just needed to fuck, needed to finish, needed to see the light twinkle and burst behind your eyes while he stuffed your cunt full. It didn’t matter what you knew—your lips were curled in such a sweet, smug smile below him, there was likely no use in trying to explain himself now. Joel just gritted his teeth, and he tried smiling back. He fucked you faster, and harder, than he’d done before.

When you clawed at his back, the pace grew merciless. Every inch of the space around him, it seemed, was filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin, whimpers, and moans. As before, Joel almost didn’t recognize his voice.

‘That so?’ was all it could manage to get out at present.

With your cunt fluttering repeatedly, hips rolling with his own, and those lips letting moans spill out one after the next, it was all he could do to try to keep his composure.

Joel kissed you, and then he flipped your body around. He moved back to find the headboard and rest himself against it, got your legs straddling his, and slid you down

Down, down, down on his cock. Stretching you out. Then moving you back up again. Making you bounce in his lap and have your hands fumble to find his shoulders. You squeezed his biceps and moaned, and at the same time, his slick-smeared lower half rutted to greet yours. Your essence drenched him; he could feel it soak straight through the black-and-gray hairs at the base of his cock.

You looked perfect like this—better than any girl on camera could’ve been. Your hips rolled, and you moaned while sliding up and down on his dick, again and again. Joel felt the trembling pulse through your body and his, groaned at the grip of your cunt around him, and helped you ride him. With one hand at the small of your back and the other cupping your face, he held you close to him. Your pace quickened, and the hand at your chin made its way to your throat, to hold you firmly there.

Joel had a thumb on your pulse and his eyes raking over your writhing form when he felt compelled to talk again.

Share a truth, since all the rest was coming out anyway.

He didn’t think so much as feel it flow from there, like the blood rushing through his veins. Joel winced at a fresh influx of pleasure and let you grind on him twice more. Then he was gripping you tighter, fucking up into you harder, and he was skimming his teeth along your skin. As a knot coiled deep within his stomach, he let it out:

“Wanna cum inside this pussy, baby. Fill her up with me.”

The head of his cock struck a dizzying blow to someplace close to your cervix, and you held him tighter.

“Yeah, Mr. Miller?” You couldn’t help the teasing tone.

You fought a breathless laugh, then were forced to suck in a gasp of air just as quick; his length sheathed itself inside you completely, and Joel’s grip constricted on your throat. He kissed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth while he fucked up into you, again and again.

You whined, and he mumbled against you, “That’s right.”

You hissed at him deep in your guts, and he went on:

“Gonna stuff her full. Make her wet and messy and drippin’ with me. Show mommy how much daddy lov—”

He cut himself short. His balls were heavy, full, and ready to paint you white, but that line was a touch too far, even now. He couldn’t say it outright and not sound like a fucking creep, no matter how deep in this roleplay you happened to be. Joel squeezed your hips and grunted.

And, for what felt like the fifteenth time that night, you surprised him. Your chin tilted to his, your lips brushed against his mouth, and you smiled, again. It was tender.

“How much does daddy love me, hm? Show me.”

Your walls clenched at the end of the last sentence, and Joel couldn’t help but groan in your mouth. His eyes lifted to yours, and in your gaze, he found anything but incredulity—you already knew what he felt, somehow.

“Sarah tell you that, too? That I love you?” he growled.

He’d said it once. At the time, he hadn’t thought he’d meant it at all, but the words just sounded so good when it came to you. Sarah had asked him if he’d wanted you to be her mommy someday, if he loved you like a daddy loves a mommy, and he’d said he did. Looking back, it hadn’t felt half as good as it did right now: peering into your eyes, feeling your warmth swallow him whole, and sensing you were nearing your climax, all because of him. It made him want to say it over again, now face-to-face.

Be it roleplay, fantasy, fixation—he needed to say it now.

“Daddy does love you,” he went on, before you could even respond. His pelvis rutted against yours, and his gaze stayed steeped in desire as he felt you grip harder, “Loves you so damn much he wants to stuff a big load in that pretty little cunt. Make you his. That alright by you?”

Your gaze went blank in an instant. Your lips twitched.

Something delectably wet, tight, and far too tempting shuddered someplace inside you, and with pride, Joel sensed the remnants of it leak out and smear his tummy. You liked that idea. Still, you seemed hesitant as your teeth snagged your bottom lip between them. You drew one steadying breath, and you slowed your movements.

“I’ve never…had that,” you admitted quietly.

Then that sticky-sweet embrace your cunt held him in got even wetter. Like your mind wasn’t fully on-board, but your body was all in. You were close, by the feel of it.

But Joel would only give what you were fully ready to take. At length, he lowered one hand to the small of your back, and his thumb rubbed at the skin. He let you feel him in only the shallowest of strokes, bouncing you softly

“Ain’t gotta be inside, then,” he murmured, assuring, “I’ll shoot this load wherever mommy tells me to go, alright?”

That made you whimper.

From there, your mind seemed to be decided all at once.

“Cum inside. I-I want it.”

Joel swallowed thickly.

“You sure, sugar? I can—”

Suddenly, your hips were stirring. They started up quicker than before, and your hand was swift to plant itself flat on his chest, as though to stabilize yourself.

“Cum. In. Me.”

It was the most decisive, and desperate, you’d sounded all night. Your gaze flitted to his, and in it, he saw a plea.

With a look like that, Joel knew he couldn’t make you wait. He wouldn’t make you wait. Trying not to smirk as he did, he leaned in and kissed you, and felt you drip more arousal as something knotted in your belly. He smoothed your hair away and delivered the gentlest thrusts from below—he knew it wouldn’t take much.

“Mama goes first,” he prodded. He felt you tense, and clench, and leak a little more down his front, and when the head of cock nicked a soft ridge, he groaned, too. “Cum for daddy now and he’ll give you his load, OK?”

Then his touch slipped between your legs. You keened.

“Daddy, I—” you hiccuped, grip tightening like a vice when his thumb found your clit and started rubbing.

Joel circled faster.

“Breathe, baby. Breathe.”

“I can’t,” you cried, “Feels too—”

Good. Your body seemed to finish for you.

It started with a pulse. Then a pinch. A trickling warmth. Joel hardly knew what else to do but keep rubbing that little pearl between your folds, even when you started to gush around his hand. It wet his tummy; it drenched all the hairs around the base of his cock, and still, he kept thumbing your clit and rocking you back and forth above him. He let you cry out and bite his shoulder while your climax tore through you, and though he knew you had to be quiet, he couldn’t help but relish the sound. He smiled

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Give it to daddy.”

And, while he also told you to keep breathing and let him have it all, he was right here—in a matter of seconds, he was slipping off, too. He couldn’t hope to try and stop it. With one more pulse of your walls, you groaned and got your wet, spent, needy hole stuffed full of him, just how you’d asked. Joel flooded your insides with his seed and kept you fucked straight down to the hilt so he wouldn’t see a drop of himself escape. He hugged you tight and heard you whine at that primal sensation, getting pumped with rope after rope of his cum, then he felt your limbs go limp. Joel kissed the side of your face. He cradled you, held you securely in place, and let the last of his spend paint your walls in a couple more gentle spurts

When it was over, he stroked your back. He sensed the aftershocks of your climax pass through your tired frame, and he made sure not to rock you too hard against him. He just wanted you to feel that he was there, if the heft of his cum and his cock still deep inside you wasn’t enough.

His head grew clearer, too. While still drawing short, ragged breaths in time, he managed to find the words that had evaded him before—what he should’ve said.

“‘M’sorry,” he mumbled into your hair.

You just nuzzled your face deeper.

“Don’t be.”

“But I—”

Then you tilted your head—enough for your gaze to meet with his, briefly, and tell him all that he needed to hear.

“You’re a good dad, Joel.”

He opened his mouth, but you were already pressing on.

“And I don’t…mind if Sarah calls me what she wants for now. I’m sure you’ll find someone great to be her mom someday, and then this whole thing won’t even matter.”

For some reason, the sound of it made Joel wince.

He couldn’t quite place the feeling, but he knew he didn’t want you thinking that. His grip constricted around you.

“No,” he muttered, indistinct. Defiant.

“No?”

You almost laughed.

It was insane, admittedly—just last night he’d been dreaming of the feel of you in the grip of his fist, wishing for nothing but his own release and a fleeting thought of your body underneath him, and here he was, doing this.

You’d said it was a one-and-done deal, and maybe it was.

But for him, maybe, it wasn’t. He’d be remiss not to try.

If you shot him down and left him to pine and meander through the manifold archives of PornHub for the rest of his horny life, that would be alright. At least he had tried.

With these thoughts thrumming through his brain, Joel was about to pull you closer and venture to speak again, when, for the second time, his words were cut short. His voice was presently supplanted by a sound that startled you both, and in a moment, he recognized what it was.

A knock.

“Da-a-a-a-a-a-addy?”

Shit.

He nearly caught a knee to the gut with how quickly you tried scrambling off his lap, limbs revived and frantic and desperate to get your clothes back on before that tiny voice could resume its speech—or get a hand to the door

“Yeah, sweetie? Give— give daddy a—” ‘Fuck!’ he cursed under his breath as he tripped over your shorts on the floor, “—a minute. I’ll be right there. Just gimme a sec.”

Joel fell. You floundered. His hand snagged the edge of the bed before he hit the ground fully, while you set off across the room to fight the strings of your bikini top and wrestle the thing on. The second you sensed that battle was lost, you grabbed your shirt instead. You were just yanking it on, and Joel was just regaining his bearings and about to chuck your shorts your way, when a voice through the door stopped the two of you cold—again.

To your horror, it was hopeful. Too sweet to be real.

“Can I sleep with you and mommy tonight?”

You could’ve soundly beat Joel’s ass with that pretty, skimpy swimsuit in your grasp and not regretted a thing, if he had to guess by the look you were flashing him now.

He didn’t blame you. His hands shot up in silent defense.

“Mommy— mommy’s not here, honey. She went home.” Joel shortly tried, and failed, to keep the pretense of innocence alive, all while dodging the first swing of your bikini’s bra at his head. He ducked; you struck a lamp.

He jumped back, a wordless grin stretching his lips as he righted that fixture fast. With one look, it seemed to say:

I’m so, so sorry, baby.

But inside his head, he couldn’t help but admit this was a little bit funny. Probably sensing this, you swung again.

“Yes, she is! I heard her,” Sarah huffed outside.

Joel was sliding up his jeans. Apologizing with his eyes and also trying not to crack an even bigger smile at you.

“Don’t be silly, Sar—”

“You’re having a sleepover!” she accused.

Well, in a manner of speaking.

Joel had just buckled his belt and redid his zip when a flash of red nylon smacked him in the face. Playfully.

You were evidently beginning to fight a grin like his, dropping the feigned indignation and pacing closer.

“Sleeping my ass—” you started in a whisper.

And you were about to chase him again, or else propose jumping from the window to get out now and save face, maybe, when Joel felt an old, familiar feeling crop up inside him. Like before, it wasn’t the kind of urge he could fight; his instincts took over, and he did it swiftly.

Admittedly, the timing was terrible—but he kissed you.

He pressed his lips to your own and relished the feeling. He grabbed both sides of your face and walked you back to the bed—the same one drenched in sweat and your release, which he’d definitely need to change in a minute—and for a fleeting moment, it was all he needed. Your mouth was on his, grinning a little and promising silently that if Sarah ever does walk in on us, I’m gonna kill you.

Against his better judgment, he pushed you back on the bed. He dropped his weight over your body and kept the kiss ongoing, feeling need surge inside for something far beyond the physical. It couldn’t be ‘one-and-done’ here.

But for now, at least, in spite of his feelings, it had to be.

Joel didn’t want to let go or stop kissing, but the next second left no room for much else, unfortunately. His daughter’s voice returned, and the words that followed proved impossible to ignore, for either one of you then.

All color drained from his face, and your eyes widened.

“I heard mommy screaming before. Is she alright?”

#THE WAY I’VE NEVER WRITTEN A NCFOM-INSPIRED FIC IS INSANE #IT’S ONE OF MY ALL TIME FAVORITE MOVIES AND THE TITLE IS SOOOOO FITTING FOR JOEL 😪#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller tlou #the last of us fic

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seungfl0wer · 7 months ago

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Bangchan As Your Boyfriend

Contains Smut 🩵

•He’s such a cute, giggly, bushy mess. He’s so giddy about everything.

•Finds everything you do just so damn cute.

•One of his favorite things is when you get to talking about something you love.

•The way you’re so excited about it just makes him smile while listing.

•The sparkle in your eyes just makes his heart do flips.

•Another thing he absolutely just melts at is you in his clothes.

•He finds it so cute and attractive just seeing you in his shirts/hoodies.

•The day he finds you all curled up in bed in his hoodie snuggling up to his pillow.

•Ugh man feels like his heart is on fire.

•He’s such a sweet Clingy man.

•Wants to always be touching you in some way.

•Is he slightly possessive or is he just doing loving boyfriend things?

•The answer is yes. Yes to both.

•He always has a hand on you. Either on your thigh, holding your hand, touching your arms. Anything.

•He’s very thoughtful.

•Remembers all the things you tell him.

•So when he’s traveling and sees your favorite animal, snack or favorite character in that one show you guys binge watched.

•He’s buying it for you.

•Speaking of buying things.

•Loves buying you both matching clothes.

•Finds it so adorable.

•He’s getting you both a whole wardrobe of couple outfits.

•Just loves showing you off.

•Talks non-stop about you.

•”y/n loves those!” “Omg those are y/ns faves!”

•“Y/n and I come here all the time” “y/n did this funny thing today”

•Plans out time for his schedule to make sure he has time to spend with you.

•Does in fact cry when he’s away from you for too long.

•He gets you to wear one of his hoodies for a while before leaving so he can snuggle it.

•Also cries into that.

•He’s just so head over heels for you it hurts being away for so long.

•When he does eventually come home.

•He’s all over you.

•You’re not leaving his sight for at least a week straight.

•He’s gonna be glued to you.

•Arms wrapped around you.

•Telling you how much he missed you. How much he wants to take you to the places he was.

•Giving you all the things he found for you.

•Also apologizing for leaving you for so long.

•Which you always playfully smack him telling him

•“I don’t mind, I knew when we started dating this would happen. At least at the end of everything you come back to me.”

•Your words always bringing tears to his eyes.

•Mans has a whole folder of songs he’s made for you.

•There’s some he’s shown you but a lot are special.

•For special occasions like birthdays/anniversaries.

•He also has a whole folder of pictures/videos of you.

•A lot. A LOT. Of unflattering ones.

•Has those saved in a special folder so you can’t delete them.

•He thinks they’re cute but you think they’d be perfect blackmail material.

•He really enjoys your input on things.

•Music, style, life. He really likes to hear what you have to say.

•Always checks up on you, just simple “did you eat today?” Or “Did you drink water?”

•Sends the sweetest good morning texts

•And you know something?

•The spark yall have never dies.

•The longer you date, the more he knows he’s gonna marry you.

•He falls more and more in love with you every day.

•Truly heart eyes for you constantly.

•Chan is really just the best, he’s so caring, compassionate and just.. the man you want forever with.

•And nothing would make you happier than to spend that forever with him.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•As loving as he is normally that transfers to love making.

•And that’s what it is.

•Love making.

•He’s so sensational, and passionate.

•You both definitely sit down and talk about what you both like.

•Chan always wants to make sure you’re comfortable.

•But god does he just lose control sometimes.

•His mind goes as he’s fucking you.

•He looks like a dog with his tongue basically hanging out.

•The noises he makes are so hot-

•This man’s vocal on a daily you think he’s not in bed?

•If he’s not making noises he’s talking.

•Big into talking.

•”Baby, you feel so good” “ah you’re taking me so good”

•”My love your milking my cock-“ “you’re so good for me baby”

•Ugh-

•Definitely loves interlocking hands.

•He can get a little rough sometimes.

•Spanking, Choking, hair pulling, probably has a daddy kink.

•I said what I said.

•We all know he does-

•He’s such a softy though.

•Soft dom for sure

•Always. Always makes sure you cum.

•You could have been an absolute brat.

•And yeah he’s gonna punish you but honestly.

•He’s gonna let you cum.

•Even if he says he won’t.

•He will.

•He always does.

•Also listen-

•This man’s going down on you often.

•So often.

•He just can’t get over how you sound.

•Can’t get over how you look when his tongue is lapping at your hole.

•Really just drives him crazy.

•So much aftercare. Ugh dude-

•Cleans you up, cuddles you, gets you a snack and a drink.

•”You did so well baby” “it’s ok baby I’m here I’m not going anywhere ever. I love you”

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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yandere-romanticaa · 11 months ago

Text

⚘ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

m. - "forevermore" typically refers to something that lasts for an indefinite amount of time or for eternity. it implies a sense of permanence or lastingness.

You've ran away from your husband, the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia himself. However, have you truly escaped his grasp?

yandere! tartaglia x fem! reader.

The shimmering rays of bright morning sunlight made the living room come to life as you sat in a classic wooden chair, a steaming cup of tea in your hand. It burned your fingers ever so slightly but you could not be bothered to remove them from the cup.

The pain made you not focus on the massive bouquet of flowers which were placed on your pretty white table.

From the corner of your vision, you could see the card which clung onto the fresh bunch of blooms, the handwriting on it disgustingly elaborate but oh so familiar.

"Blood red roses." The card said.

"I always knew that you fancied roses, and I couldn't resist to get you these specific ones when I saw you looking at them."

Bastard. How he had managed to track you all the way to Mondstatd was beyond your comprehension, but in hindsight, you really should have known better. The Fatui could sneak in anywhere they damn well pleased, be it the hustle and bustle of the city of Mondstatd, to the dirty cracks of the Chasm.

It was only natural that the many agents which were stationed in the city would start to talk upon seeing the wife of a Lord Harbinger so far from home.

You concealed yourself at first, obviously. Most unfortunately, word started to spread like wildfire that you had fled in the dead of night, never to be seen by anyone. And, due to the fact that your husband did not possess a single shred of decency in his body, he proudly showed you off wherever he could.

Just the mere thought of the memory made you shudder.

Your good husband was - is - a wealthy man. He made sure to spoil you in the finest of silks known to man and the endless sea of jewelry which was sent your way, if it were to be sold, could feed an entire army.

Although, he was always particular about your arms. He didn't like seeing anything on them except for the, surprisingly, simple wedding ring he got you.

It was a promise, he had told you.

His eternal promise to you, until the end of time. He would love you, in sickness and in health, there was no force in the universe that could separate him from you.

In a way, he was keeping his promise. He made the trip from the homeland straight to the City of Freedom all on his own.

... He probably didn't even need to hear the reports from anyone of your whereabouts. Knowing him, he tracked you down all on his own, using nothing but his wit and sharp senses.

He was a terrifying man. A man you ought to stay away from, a man who had the blood of countless innocent people on his hand. And yet, those same hands would keep you warm during the cold winter, his soft and pale lips would pepper your body with gentle kisses, making you feel as if you were the most beautiful woman in the universe.

Archons, he'd whisper to himself, his breath hot on your neck, making you blush. He would just say whatever came to mind, completely lost in his blind passion.

I want no one else but you - You are my everything - I will make you mine -

Frankly, you did not know how to feel. In those private moments he was less a man and more a lovesick little fool. He could not keep his paws off you, even if he wanted to. As the evening would go on the kisses would evolve into something more, something primal, carnal even. Tongue and teeth would mesh together, leaving a thick string of saliva between him and you, to which he would always let out that darling boyish laugh of his.

You loathed the fact that in those moments, he truly was ethereal, no different than a star.

What made your skin crawl was the effect his touch had on your mind and body. He became something akin to a drug, even now as you felt the sweetness of freedom with your own two hands you still felt the urge to hold something tight at night because your husband had spoiled you rotten with his presence.

Finally, you turned to look at the flowers as the horrible realization dawned on you - you loved him. You loved that man and it was putrid.

You cannot go back. You would not go back to him.

Jumping off a building would be a smarter thing to do.

As you pondered on and on about your predicament, you failed to notice the lingering shadow in your hallway. Deep blue eyes monitored you like a hawk as he toyed with a switchblade he had in his pocket. What should he do with you? He was furious, naturally. You were the last person in the world he wanted discord with. You broke his heart a little when you left and the fact that you didn't even care about his feelings only added insult to injury.

Even so, he could not help but to feel overjoyed by the fact that you hadn't thrown out his gift. He was half expecting you to burn whatever he sent you to the ground, not to mournfully contemplate in deep thought like this.

That was how he knew you loved him. It was crooked and wrong, but he had you. He had you and you didn't even know it. He'd bring down the heavens themselves if it meant that you could feel a fraction of the love he held for you. His lips curled into a sly grin but his heart pounded like clockwork in his chest. This waiting game was so horrible.

But the hunter in him couldn't resist, cornering you like this was just in his nature.

Victory was so close, he could practically taste it. Soon enough, his wife would be in his arms, weeping and apologizing and he would soothe her, like a good husband ought to. Yes, that was how this scenario would play out.

He was too clever to let it happen any other way.

It would be just him and you, perhaps even with a bundle of joy if the Tsaritsa blessed him. Even so, with you here, he had everything he could ever dream of.

Him and you, against the world, standing by each other's side, forevermore.

💋 TAGLIST: @genshinarchives, @saturnalya @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @alatusprinz @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @lakxcpsta @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

This fic was born out of my own pure passion and love for Tartaglia, apologies for the Cringe™ I put you all through.

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t1ny-untitled · 4 months ago

Text

TILL X GN!READER

「 ✦ ‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

- in this au, Till is in love(?) with the reader!yn and sang a different song in Round 2 in where he thinks you like (the aliens don't know it was someone else's song). He feels unsure of his feelings for gn!reader until he sang the song. -

- Warning; Till might be ooc(out of character) so I apologize if it is. If anything, feel free to give me some tips or things to improve this or any of my future fics, thank you! -

「 ✦ ‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

날 스치는 그대의 옅은 그 목소리

(That faint voice of yours that grazed me.)

내 이름을 한 번만 더 불러주세요

(Please call my name one more time.)

얼어버린 노을 아래 멈춰 서 있지만

(I'm standing still under the frozen light, but)

그대 향해 한 걸음씩 걸어갈래요

(I will walk towards you, step by step)

Still with you

0:01 - 0:18

Still With You - Jungkook

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ✦ 」

[Reader] has always been the person that Till admired a lot. Watching them from afar with admiration. Through his journey of learning the guitar, they were his inspiration and motivation to continue on. For him, his education, and for them.

You were his childhood best friend he never wanted to let go. You were too kind to him. To people. To everyone. He likes that about you. He couldn't even believe that he met someone so caring like you. It felt so unbelievable.

He just wishes to at least hold your hand, wipe your delicate tears when you cry, let you sleep on his shoulder for as long as you can, and talk to you for countless hours.

It breaks his tiny heart whenever he sees you with someone. He had always tried to impress you. He wanted you to be proud of him. To notice him. To care about him. He had always dreamed about that.

And this is finally the time that he can impress you. And he won't mess it up. He can't mess it up.

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

Till was now against a guy—Acorn. A short brown haired boy who is just the same age as he is. He looked at the audience with confidence. He knew he was gonna win this round. With this song he prepared. For you.

Surely, the music started to play, giving a somewhat soft but electrifying memory with his guitar. He tried to do it as softly as possible but also enough to maybe impress you.

He struck a few tabs and some chords, bringing the microphone to his mouth as he sang, giving a slightly blocked sound to impress the audience as well

"날 스치는 그대의 옅은 그 목소리."

"내 이름을 한 번만 더 불러주세요"

"얼어버린 노을 아래 멈춰 서 있지만"

"그대 향해 한 걸음씩 걸어갈래요"

"Still with you"

He sang in a soft tone before striking a slightly louder and improvised melody. The boy looked at him, not even knowing where to start singing until he continued.

"어두운 방, 조명 하나 없이. 익숙해지면 안 되는데 그게 또 익숙해"

("Dark room, no lights. I shouldn't get used to it but I'm used to it again.")

He sang, looking at the ground for a brief moment to think about all the things he had with you before when the two of you were still kids.

"나지막이 들리는 이 에어컨 소리. 이거라도 없으면 나 정말 무너질 것 같아. 함께 웃고, 함께 울고. 이 단순한 감정들이 내겐 전부였나 봐"

("This quiet sound of the air conditioner. I feel like I'd really fall apart without this. Laugh together, cry together. I guess these simple feelings were everything to me.")

A gentle smile creeped up to his face, looking up. He felt conflicted by his unknown feelings for you. And he wanted to be sure...

"언제쯤일까 다시 그댈 마주한다면? 눈을 보고 말할래요."

("When will I ever see you again? I want to look you in the eye and tell you")

"보고 싶었어요"

("I missed you")

Suddenly, he felt a switch in his heart turned on. A feeling of his heart racing as he continued on the lyrics with passion. He hasn't felt something like this until now... It felt so nice, even.

The brunette looked at him, slightly panicking as he looked at his score compared to the gray haired one. He looked back at the gray haired, seeing how he was smiling genuinely. His collar was green, showing his positivity. Or even, motivation..

He really hopes you like it...

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

"Till!"

A young child said, running towards the young boy—Till "Look what I made!" The young child said, showing him a little bouquet of flowers. You were smiling like a little kid, giving the bouquet to him. "It's for you!"

Till looked at the bouquet, feeling his cheeks burn beet red by the sudden gift. "W—why me?!" He exclaimed, looking up at you with surprise.

The young child looked at him, confused but also upset, thinking he doesn't like it "Why? Is it ugly?" You asked, looking a bit saddened as you looked down at your bouquet. He didn't like it when he saw you like that. He quickly patted your head, trying to calm you down "I—I'm just asking! I didn't say anything negative about that!" *He protested, hesitantly grabbing the bouquet and hiding it up to his chest "H—happy?!" He says, looking down at you and hoping you would be happy again

The little child looked up at him, and your face brightened. "Sing me a song" You stated, looking at him with a smile. You knew he couldn't say no... "A—ah... Hrgh..." Till grunted, feeling his face heat up and looked away, looking timid. "Fine...!" He said making you smile brightly and jumped up and down.

You sat on the floor beside him, looking at him as if waiting for him to sing. He couldn't concentrate properly on how focused you are to him but eventually, he started to sing.

"황홀했던 기억 속에"

("In the ecstatic memories")

"나 홀로 춤을 춰도 비가 내리잖아"

("Even if I dance alone, it rains")

"이 안개가 걷힐 때쯤 젖은 발로 달려갈게"

("By the time this fog clears, I'll run with wet feet")

"그때 날 안아줘"

("Hug me then")

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

He didn't even realize that he was zoning out and his opponent—Acorn was already singing while he was distracted. He felt angered to the point he slammed his guitar on the floor. He wanted it to be him he's impressing you. Not the flat haired guy.

It still made him mad despite him still winning over the brunette. Now he had just killed his alien guitar. Ahh... But all he wanted to know is if you liked it or not.

He goes back to where he was, trying to find you to see if you paid attention to his performance. He just hoped that you weren't sleeping that time since you are a heavy sleeper... But luckily, when he came back, you instantly greeted him with a soft smile and waved at him. The only thing that filled his mind is that you liked it based on your small interaction with him.

Till looks at you, his face burning and his lips curling into a nervous and awkward smile before waving back. Now he finally knows what his feelings for you are now.

He wants to stay still with you

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

#till x reader #alnst x reader #till alien stage x reader #alien stage x reader #alien stage #alnst #alnst till

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ghettogirly · 9 months ago

Note

how do you think armando would react if he is in love with the reader, but she shows no sign of feeling the same way, (he's so devoted when it comes to the reader) And he'd like to know if she feels the same as him, I wish it would end in a passionate way (you know what I mean) 🔥

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 .

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-> synopsis: Armando was obsessed with everything about you. Yet, you never showed him the same energy back. Until one night.

-> theme: one sided love, smut.

-> format: drabble + story?

-> warning: hardcore smut, slight mention of dacryphillia, armando is a little rough and cocky asf, mature language, mention of guns, mention of alcohol, he does not understand the meaning of personal space, i think if he wants something he’ll go after it!

-> authors note: 2 updates back to backkk! thanks for requesting! Hope you enjoy it! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃!

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[🕷️] 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

᯾ Ever since he first noticed you when meeting the team, it was love at first sight for him.

᯾ He would definitely show how much he’s obsessed with you in implicit ways, not fully going for you as that’s not his personality.

᯾ Would definitely prefer to do things that make you notice him, however, he could chase you if he wanted to.

᯾ He would definitely stare at you in the locker room or on the plane, on the way to whatever location you guys are needed.

᯾ His eyes would start at your legs before slowly glancing up to your lips.

᯾ You already know he’s a playboy just like his dad.

᯾ However, regardless of his obvious interest in you, the feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.

᯾ Nevertheless, he wouldn’t tease you too much on missions. Not loving you enough to the point where he wants his life to be compromised.

᯾ He always has his eye out for you. Need more ammo? he’s got you.

᯾ Need a cover? He’s got you on that too.

᯾ You couldn’t even hate him, skilled in his fighting he was an excellent addition to the team. The way he effortlessly handled any weapon that was given to him, effectively killing anyone in his path. Giving assistance to anyone within the team, you really couldn’t hate him.

᯾ He knew he was good at what he does too.

᯾ And sooner then later, you’d realise he’s good in bed too.

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[🕷️] 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄:

᯾ You hardly talked to him, always avoiding his path.

᯾ Celebratory drinks? On the other side of the table.

᯾ Group talks? You’re never next to him.

𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐎, until you guys saw each other at a club. Neon lights were flashing as people danced and drank excessively. There was you, with two friends, dancing within the crowd. You rolled your hips with the flow of the music, this being an escape from your fast-paced life of being a law enforcement agent.

That was until you saw him, surrounded by men looking like him. Armando’s tan skin and beard being the main thing that stood out. He wore a simple black shirt with tight, slim black jeans. There was a fresh slit in his left eyebrow while his gold cuban chain hung off his neck, slightly longer than shoulder length.

He looked back up, and smirked. Shaking it off, you went back further into the crowd and continued to dance with your friends.

“We’re going to switch it up now, introducing some dancehall! Ladies get ready to whine up yuhself! Men, get ready to catch that whine!!” The DJ shouted over the music before switching up the song.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 & 𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐂𝐇 - 𝐉.𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢 & 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊.

Cheers and woos erupted in the building, more people coming to the dance floor as ladies bent their legs and arched their backs, ready to whine their life away.

Your friends started whining and dancing, screaming the lyrics as their body began to move with the music as if they were in a trance.

You decided to do the same, letting loose, you began to put your hands on your knees. Whining along to the music by anyone who pressed up behind you. That was until you felt those hands.

Looking up , you noticed Armando holding your hips, a suggestive look on his face as he controlled every circle and buck of your whine. You hated to say it but he was really skilled.

He didn’t even say anything, just focused on you and the music. Slowly pushing your hair on the left side of your face, his hand creeped up to your neck while the other one was still rested on your hip. His touch igniting a flame of zeal within you, the air between the two becoming hot and heavy.

This was forbidden, two co workers were not supposed to have any sexual relations with each other. Yet, you both did not care. Too overcome with lust and desire.

“Volver a casa conmigo..” Armando whispered in your ear, causing a tingle to happen down there.

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𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌. Symphonies of groans and moans escaping the two lovers’ lips as they engaged in a heated kiss, fighting each other with their tongue, burning passion radiating off them. The white, satin sheets barely covered the male as he was focused on thrusting into the woman below. His cock pistoned in and out of the woman’s leaking pussy as her legs were up in the air, rocking backwards and forwards as she jolted up and down due to the roughness of her lover’s actions. Her wetness causing a thin coating on his dick.

“Te sientes tan bien amor..” Armando whispered, gently biting on the woman’s earlobe as she moaned in his ear, hypnotised by the feeling of his thick clock filling her up.

The male noticed and withdrew from her earlobe, still continuing the same pace as he held onto her hips but instead he could see the pleasure in her face. Tears of pleasure slowly slid down your face, to the point where you tried to push the male back, to no avail. “You got to take it mamí.”

“It feels too good.. i can’t.”

“Oh yes you can.” Armando grunted. Randomly flipping you over, your face was roughly met with the pillow. The man then started pounding with even more passion as you gasped and whined underneath him. “Just like that Armando..”

Your little comments turned him on more, feeling the reach of his peak coming. Your quiet nature before this now contradicting the lewd activity commencing now. And he loved it. He knew you would eventually come around. “Ah.. ¿Así que tu bonita boca puede hablar?”

Too dazed by the pleasure to understand the sarcasm dripping off his voice, you just nodded. Your hand slowly crawling down to your clit as you rubbed it in desperation. The overstimulation forcing your orgasm to come crashing down before you could even warn him. “Oh my god!”

This caused Armando to absolutely lose it. Your own impulsive decision to coming back to bite you caused him to begin chasing after his own orgasm. Still thrusting while you tried coming down from your own, before pulling out and releasing his seed onto your stomach.

“estás loco.”

“Estoy loco por no amarte antes.”

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[🕷️] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“Volver a casa conmigo” : Come home with me.

“Te sientes tan bien.” You feel so good.

“ ¿Así que tu bonita boca puede hablar?”: So your pretty mouth can speak?

“estás loco.” - You’re crazy.

“Estoy loco por no amarte antes.” - i’m crazy for not loving you sooner.

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[🕷️] 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@milliumizoomi @thedarkworldofhananerea @5tarlan7 @deadpool15 @wizewhispers @amplifiedmoan @loakswifesworld @sarcasticbitchsblog

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mimicmimikyuwrites · 7 months ago

Text

Who You Belong To - Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You and your professor share what could barely be called a relationship, but what's there is tricky and difficult to put a positive label on. When a fellow classmate successfully asks you on a date, Dr. Crane decides to make one thing clear: who you belong to.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Age Gap (Reader is in her early 20's, Crane's in his mid 30's), inclusion of original male character, student-professor relationship, unprotected sex, P in V sex, toxic relationship (?), creampie, semi-clothed sex, mentions of masturbation, degradation, semi-public sex (they fuck in an office), SMUT, MDNI

Other Notes: You can read part two here.

Some people say there's over four hundred estimated phobias, others say that number can be even higher at five hundred; no matter the number, you were sure Dr. Jonathan Crane knew every single one of them by heart. Your slightly off-putting psychology professor with a passion for fear and its workings shared a relationship with you that had breeched its professional expectations long ago. You couldn't tell what he was to you, exactly, but it certainly wasn't just your professor, not when he had been inside of you more times than either of you could count.

It wasn't uncommon for him to ask you to stay after class, leading into an invitation to his office before you found yourself bent over an expensive, wooden desk that had already been cleared off in expectation of you being pressed to it while you took him. Sometimes if he wanted to strike a bit of fear of getting caught into you, he'd fuck you right in the lecture hall, always letting you know how terrifying the consequences would be if someone else did something as simple as come back for a forgotten pen.

You may have been his favorite teacher's pet, but you were sure there were others. Jonathan was an attractive man who taught an already difficult class, it'd be no surprise to you if he had other women lined up for a chance to recieve a better grade from him in exchange for a little "extra- credit" assignment, as much as you hated to admit it to yourself. He was never yours to begin with.

"Care to tell me why you're staring down at your closed text book instead of listening to my lesson?" Your professor questioned, breaking you out of your thoughts. Shit, how had you gotten so immersed in your little daydream that you had forgotten you were in class? You could feel the sympathetic stares of your peers burning into you as Crane loomed over you, a gleam of mischievous satisfaction in his blue eyes. You didn't respond.

"Stay after class," He said plainly, heading back to the front of the room. He'd still ask you to stay back regardless of how things went, the little show he had made out of you was his way of toying with you in just the way he liked. It was more of a tease at this point, you weren't scared, not of him. Still, you shrunk back into your seat in faux embarrassment to entertain him.

"To those who were paying attention, unlike a certain someone," he paused, gaze drifting over to you as he quickly took in the sight of what you were wearing.

While it was nothing out of the ordinary for you, you did choose to wear a skirt today, a favorite of his to see on you. How easy would it be for him to pull it up, bunching the fabric over your hips so be could get acess to what he was really after? He also took note of your gloss-covered lips, mind drifting onto how great they'd look wrapped around his cock or wide open as you moaned for him. He shifted, moving to be further behind his desk as he felt his pants tighten. He would wreck you after everyone was gone.

"You have a test on the topic of agoraphobia this upcoming Monday; today is Friday, which means you have the weekend to review the notes, which I hope you've been taking, for your own sake." He continued. "You're all free to go, except who I've already asked to stay." He really wouldn't stop rubbing that in, would he? Maybe he was trying to rile you up to make your usual "meeting" more exciting today.

As your classmates rose, you stayed seated, putting your stuff into your bag as you did. It was all routine, except for the man who had approached you before making his way out. He stood over you with a friendly smile, one that you had to admit made him look handsome. He didn't look too different from Dr. Crane in terms of basic features; dark hair and cornflower blue eyes. He was your type on the level of looks.

"Hey, I'm Ryan," He introduced himself, friendly smile remaining on his face. "I heard that you're pretty good in this class, making straight A's. I was wondering if you could help me study this weekend if you're free? Maybe we could grab a cup of coffee, too?" You looked over to where Dr. Crane was standing, the man in question observing your interaction from his desk, making it subtle by acting like he was sorting through papers.

You and your professor weren't exclusive, and if he had others lined up and waiting for him, then you could, too; it'd only be fair. Your classmate wanted to study and get coffee? He'd get what he wanted and more. "Sure! I'm free tommorrow at twelve if that works out for you," You finally replied, smiling up at Ryan. You had just met the guy and he was already doing something that Crane never did: asking you out on a date.

Ryan grinned, grabbing a notebook out of his bag and ripping out a piece of paper, writing his number on it before handing it to you. "I'll see you then!" He exclaimed happily before waving goodbye and leaving. After he had left, you stood up, pulling your bag over your shoulder before you made your way to where Jonathan was at the front of the lecture hall. He did ask you to stay after class.

"Throw it away," Crane stated plainly, moving the small, paper-filled trashcan that was under his desk to be in front of you. You looked down, not realizing you still had the slip of paper with Ryan's number on it in your hand.

"Do you even know what it is?" You retorted, shoving the paper into your bag.

"He gave you his number. You don't need the number of someone you turned down," He responded, moving the trashcan even closer to you. "Throw it away." He repeated.

"Except I didn't turn him down." You replied, watching his brows furrow in a mix of confusion, and then annoyance once your words sunk in. "We're not exclusive, you and I, are we?" Part of you hoped he'd prove you wrong, telling you that he was yours and you were his, while another part of you wanted to tell him 'fuck you" to his face. How many simultaneously lucky and unlucky women did he have waiting for him? Many, you were sure of it.

"I'm sure you have someone else in another one of your classes that you can spend your evening with, Dr. Crane." You smiled, trying to ignore the growing pain in your heart. "If you can have others, then it's only fair that I can as well."

"What makes you think that I have others?" He inquired, looking up at you with curious, blue eyes. "Do you think I'm the type of man to give out straight A's in my class in exchange for a fling or two? I don't even up your grades, darling." He chuckled lightly.

You rolled your eyes. He had to be lying to you... right? Were you really the only one and he just didn't see you as more than someone to have sex with? You didn't know what idea hurt you more, but the end result was the same: you meant little to him, and your body was all he wanted.

"I'll see you on Monday, professor." You mumbled out, feeling defeated. You already knew why he had asked you to stay after class, but the thought of him touching you while he wanted nothing more than just sex sickened you. What did you expect? That's all things had ever been. You shouldn't have caught feelings.

He watched you leave, letting out a long sigh once you were gone. You had always been a pain in his ass, but not one he'd ever get rid of.

Saturday at Twelve left just as quickly as it had come, and before you knew it, not only had you had your date, but you were also back in your Psychology class on Monday, a test on agoraphobia in front of you. Being nearly sixty questions long, it was intimidating to look at, even more so when the majority of questions were statistic-based. You were far from worried, however, having studied the topic extensively over the past few weeks.

Any confidence you had left you once you received your score later that same class period. You had failed by a large margin, the bright red ink in the corner shamefully exclaiming '34%' seeming to mock you as you stared back at it. You had yet to fail any assignment in your Psychology course, let alone one on such a common fear as agoraphobia. Your professor did this on purpose.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Crane asked, not bothering to look up as he shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk. You placed your failed test in front of the man, an angry frown on your face as you did so.

"Did you intentionally fail me because I went out on a date this weekend, you prick?!" He finally glanced up at you, his neutral expression not faltering a bit despite your obvious discontent. Then, he stood up, making his way over to his office door in the corner of the room.

"Come on, let's take this to my office so you can shout at me without embarrassing yourself as easily." The condescension in his voice only served to upset you further, much to his sadistic delight. You were the first one inside, Jonathan making sure to lock the door behind you. Before you could even open up your mouth to yell at him once more, he spoke.

"Did it feel good?" He asked nonchalantly, catching you off guard.

"What? What are you—"

"Did it feel good when he fucked you?" He finished, watching calmly as your eyes widened in shock. "You have a hickey on your neck under all that makeup you used to try and hide it. You've done the same to the ones I've given you in the past. It's just barely noticeable."

He stepped forward, closing in on you like a hungry animal would their prey, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Did it feel good? Did he manage to fuck you better than I ever could?" His arm wrapped around you, a hand placing itself on the small of your back as he leaned into you. "Or did he leave you wanting more? Did you go home and grab that vibrator of yours, just wishing it was me that had been the one with you while you were forced to make yourself cum, because he couldn't?"

He moved, lifting you up so he could sit you on the desk. Of course, like always, it was cleared off ahead of time in anticipation of your visit.

"Maybe I need to show you who you belong to, hmm?" His hands moved down under your skirt, one resting on your inner thigh while the other gave an experimental touch to your clothed sex. You were already wet, your arousal felt through the thin cotton of your panties. "Soaking already, my dear? He must've left you worse off than I imagined." Jonathan purred.

"H-He barely touched me," You stuttered out, feeling Crane tug your underwear to the side, his deft fingers finding your clit. "All we did was make out." You let out a soft moan as he began slowly rubbing at the sensitive bud.

"I don't believe you." His hands left you, beginning to undo his belt. The prominent tent in his black slacks let you know just what was in store for you; he was starving for you. "Not when you admitted you let him touch what's mine." He continued, motioning for you to take your soaked panties off.

"What's yours?" You breathed out, slipping off the clothing in question, letting it fall to the ground below.

"You need to know who you belong to." He stated, pulling his cock out; hard and leaking pre-cum at the tip. Your pussy grew even wetter at the sight. You spread your legs on instinct as he came in closer, putting himself in between them, a hand resting on your hip while the other lined himself up with your eager cunt, the head of his cock teasing your entrance.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked staring into your eyes with his half-lidded, sultry ones swimming with lust and need. "Answer me correctly and I'll be nice and give you what you want."

"You. I belong to you. Dr. Jonathan Cra— oh, fuck!" You gasped out, feeling him thrust into you without warning. He set a quick, almost animalistic pace, wasting no time; not when he needed you so much. Every drag of his thick cock inside of your desperate cunt sent pleasure coursing through you.

"I bet he didn't fuck you as good as this," he groaned, a tight grip on your hips as he slammed into you, the lewd sounds of your shared pleasure filling the small space of his office. It had only been a few days since he had last fucked you, but with the way you were already trembling beneath him it felt like it had been months.

"You're the best I've —Oh!— ever had!" You managed to get out between your moans. It was true, too. Out of every man you'd ever been with, no man had made you feel as good as Jonathan did. "Harder– baby, please!" You begged, gripping the edge of the desk like your life depended on it.

"Look at you, begging like a slut," He growled, pounding into you even harder. "That's okay, darling. You're my little slut. Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin." He let out a loud groan as your pussy clamped down on him at the sound of his words. "Oh? Does that turn you on? The thought of me ruining you? Trust me, you're not going to want a single person other than me after I'm done with you, darling." You pulled him down, dragging him into a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue moved against his, just like you were made for each other.

"I love you," you whimpered out, feeling him nip at your neck. "Please— I want to be all yours. Only yours." You pleaded, your mind too clouded with the intense pleasure rocking through your body to fully process the potential impact of what you had just confessed.

"You already are." He responded, hips snapping against yours as he lost his rhythm. "I love you, too. I don't care what trouble I'll get into for what we've done. I don't care if I lose my job, as long as you're with me at the end of it all."

That sent you over the edge, along with the tip of his cock grazing your sweet spot. You came around him, your orgasm crashing over you as your legs shook with the force of it all. He spilled into you not long after, thick, warm cum shooting deep inside you and leaking out to drip down your thighs as he let out a long, loud groan of ecstasy.

You slumped back against the desk, feeling the cold wood against your warm, hot skin. Jonathan buried his head into the crook of your neck, pressing soft, chaste kisses to it as you both came down from your orgasmic highs. You stayed like that for a long moment until both of you calmed down, a blissful exhaustion filling you.

"There's a new restaurant that opened up in the town center," he smiled, caressing your cheek. "I hear it has some of the best Chicken Alfredo the city has to offer. Good wine, too."

You chuckled tiredly, not catching on to his offer. "You fucked me silly just so you could tell me about some Italian place?"

"I'm sure it's a better first date than whatever that guy got you," He said, letting out a chuckle of his own. "I'm free later tonight if that's not too short notice."

Your eyes shot open as the realization set in. "Wait— You're asking me out? What if someone from the University sees us, Jonathan? You could get—" He cut you off with a short, sweet kiss.

"Arkham always needs new doctors, darling. There's never a shortage of the need for psychiatrists. I'm tired of grading papers, anyway." He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. "You heard what I said earlier, didn't you? I love you. You belong to me."

You had finally learned who you belonged to, and you couldn't have been happier.

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feyascorner · 1 year ago

Text

wish you would look at me

summary. convinced that you’re in love with another, when you approach him with a serious expression, he readies himself for the inevitable—rejection. but is it ever that simple?

pairing. astarion x GN!reader

warnings. light angst, fluff

a/n. this is inspired by the ppl who have love triangles w gale and astarion in act 2 and what he says if you pick him bec when I saw that I almost cried pls let him be happy

If you asked him a few weeks ago, he’d laugh at the mere suggestion that he could ever be jealous of someone like Gale. That blasted wizard couldn't go four steps before begging for a magical shoe or pathetically limping his way behind the rest of the group while you frantically searched for the said shoe. And when he found out the wizard was a few errors away from exploding, somehow Astarion felt even more pity (not really) for the lad.

Yet here he was.

He’s not sure when the hell you and Gale had gotten so chummy, but it rubbed him the wrong way. Even if his expression would never show it. He sips at his wine while Karlach and Wyll continue to chat about God knows what, too busy peering from the corner of his eyes as you lean into Gale’s shoulders to look closer at the book he was holding.

Perhaps the tadpole had finally made you lose your mind. He'd almost dropped his goblet when you denied his invitation to his tent tonight, spouting the excuse that you'd asked Gale to help you with something, and now this?

God knows why you ever found the wizard charming. If Gale could do something, he could too—much better, in fact. He was sure of it.

His grip tightens around the goblet when he hears you laugh.

Sure, his original intentions for approaching you had been less than noble…and he might have seduced you for more selfish reasons than you originally knew, but as much as he hated himself for it, he'd grown rather fond of you. In his own way, of course.

He’d only realized that the anxious squirming in his stomach was not of fear but of affection when you'd defended him from that vile drow at Moonrise Towers. He'd half expected you to ask him to throw himself at her, yet you stood your ground, showing nothing but respect to his own boundaries while you failed to realize that he'd deceived your own.

He truly had no reason to feel this way. He was selfish, he knew, for feeling so possessive because not once had the two of you established being exclusive. Though you'd respected him, you saw him for just that. A friend to respect, and nothing more. Sure, you'd spent a few nights together, but it was a mindless night of passion and he knew he'd continue to be your fling until you found another to truly love. He had just hoped it wouldn't be someone like Gale, of all people…or Wyll…or Shadowheart…or anyone for that matter.

He shakes his head. The wine must be getting to him. Serious relationships aren't a luxury he can afford, he reminds himself, relaxing his shoulders. He’s perfectly okay with being your ally—nothing more or nothing less. Ecstatic, even.

But when Gale flips a page of the book and both of you lean closer again—this time dangerously close—he feels a sharp pain shoot up his hand.

“Uh, Fangs, you alright there?” Karlach stares at the cracked glass in his hand and even he blinks at it in disbelief.

Apparently not.

He sighs irritably, dumping the glass elsewhere. “I’m quite alright. Seems I just need a nice comfortable mattress than a thin bedroll on the ground, but it’ll do for now.”

“Need help patching that up? You're bleeding.”

He almost laughs, if it weren't for the giggle coming from your direction. “Blood’s my specialty, darling, remember?” Without another word, he paces into his tent, closing the flap behind him for the universe signal that screams ‘don’t bother me.’

So when half an hour later, when he no longer hears the crackle of the campfire, he sees your shadow emerge from the other side of his tent flap, he squints.

“Can I come in?” He fails to respond, and hears you shuffle. “Ah, are you asleep?”

At this, he can't help but snort. You instinctively peek inside, and he runs a hand through his hair, sighing in defeat. “If I'd been asleep just how would I answer that question?”

He motions you closer and you take it as a sign to step inside, careful to avoid stepping on any of his belongings before situating yourself in front of him. “It was rhetorical, obviously!”

“Of course,” he doesn't seem convinced, lips curling into a teasing grin. “Now tell me, what brings you to my palace this late at night? Surely not for a cuddle. I'd thought you declined my offer earlier?”

Usually, you'd smile, but instead you only look down at your clasped hands, seemingly in thought. “I needed to talk to you—without everyone else watching.”

The usual brightness to your tone is missing.

Oh, he thinks. You've come to end things with him.

“Ah,” is all he says. He can tell his smile hasn't dropped, but it doesn't feel that way. “I hear you've found a new lover. Perhaps you want to keep yourself for this one, true love? How romantic, darling.”

You frown at this, and he wonders if he’s done something wrong. But it does little to stop his defense mechanisms from springing into action, because he’s immediately slipping into his usual mask, grin stretching wider but never reaching his eyes.

He hates the words coming out of his own mouth as if they taste of poison. Still, his voice is steady, almost teasing. Perks of the 200 years spent shamelessly lying, he supposes. “So, is this the end of our late night trysts? Even though they were an awful lot of fun?”

He doesn’t think he could stand watching you with that damned wizard. He doesn't even want to think about it quite frankly, because all he feels is his chest tighten when he imagines someone else holding you the way he does. And gods, if had to watch Gale’s poor attempt at flirting one more time…

But then again, you'd be with someone who doesn't manipulate you. Someone who doesn't toy with your feelings, or someone who doesn't seduce you for protection.

His smile twitches, and he just braces himself for your response.

“I’d rather be with you.”

He stares at you, eyes wider than its ever been since he'd gotten this damn worm in his brain.

“What? Why?” he blurts, embarrassingly so, before he composes himself again and clears his throat. “I mean, well, I know why—but I thought you'd had something more…with Gale.”

As much as he despises the idea, he'd seen the way you'd laughed with him. And while it was a new experience for him to be fond of another person, he'd found that these feelings had led him to rather you be happy than dragging you down with him. If it meant you wouldn't regret your choice, he’d been willing to deal with it.

So why?

“I want something real with you, Astarion,” you say softly, eyes meeting his. “I don't know if you feel the same way, but Gale and I are better off as friends, and I told him before I came here. And besides, it’d be cruel of me to lead him on while my heart is with another.”

He thinks he might have died again just now. For the first time in decades, he’s actually at a loss for words. “I—if that's what you truly want—we can try. Be lovers, I mean.”

You finally smile at his words, and Gods above if that doesn't lift the excruciating weight of the past few weeks off his shoulders. He feels the warmth of your lips when you lean forward to give him a peck on the cheek, everything happening so fast that his mind is spinning. He snaps back into focus when you pull back.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

You could have—should have, done it earlier. With a smile of his own, he leads you back to him, this time planting a soft kiss on your lips. It’s short, and not nearly enough, but it’ll do for tonight.

“Well then, consider yourself wholeheartedly taken then, my dear.”

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending

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grapejuice32 · 3 months ago

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Delicate

masterlist here JJ Maybank x Kook!reader

Warnings : smut (brief), both of them being scaredy cats Notes : bring him back pls

What you and JJ had was delicate. Were you attracted to each other? Obviously. Was the sex good? Incredible. But were you friends? Maybe? If him pretending that you didn't exist in public counted as being friends then sure, you are friends with added benefits. You couldn't find it in you to call your relationship for what it appeared to be, because it wasn't a simple friends with benefits relationship, it was more than that. It was delicate. The way in which you both cared for each other surpassed the level that friends are supposed to care about one another.

If something happened with his dad, you were the first person he would go to, he wouldn't even call you ahead of time because he knew that if you were home, you'd drop everything for him. If he needed something, anything, he knew he could simply just call you and you would find a way to help him as soon as humanly possible.

Sometimes you got worried that he was using you, but you knew that those were just stupid thoughts that would come to life to haunt you when you tried to fall asleep. You knew that he cared about you as much as you did him, he just didn't show it as much as you because he was scared.

The two of you couldn't have been more different. You loved on Figure Eight, he lived in the Cut. You had a stable and loving family, his dad was an abusive addict. Yet you were so perfect for each other.

The two of you had met at a party, you'd shared a joint with him and one thing had let to another and before you knew it you'd woken up the next morning with him naked in your bed. The day had been spent with the both go you laying in your bed talking, getting to know one another and finding out that despite your vast differences, you both had an unexplainably deep understanding for one another.

That was a year ago, since then the two of you'd had a strange relationship. After parties you'd go home together. JJ was no longer the 'ladies man' he was once considered to be, you'd remained faithful to each other and yet the relationship between you remained secret and unlabelled. In public, he would barely acknowledge you, at first you'd been hurt, worried that maybe he was embarrassed of you, but that wasn't the case. You never brought it up to him, you knew that he didn't do it on purpose and that he didn't mean anything by it, so you never really let it bother you.

"Fuck JJ," you gasped into his ear, breathing heavily as he moved deeply and passionately in and out of you. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and your nails were digging into the skin of his back. The sound of his grunts were like music to your ears, one of his hands sliding between the two of you to trace fast circles on your clit, your back arching as the action pushed you over the edge. You threw your head back as he helped you ride out your orgasm, his face falling into the crook of your neck as he let out a low groan, spilling himself inside of you. The two of you were still as you caught your breath, one go your hands moving from his back to push back his hair, strands of it matted to the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

You closed your eyes, a ghost of a smile on your face as you listened to JJ's breath and felt the small puffs of air against your neck. The way that you loved him was all consuming, you wanted nothing more than to tell him how you felt, but you couldn't. So you settled for loving him the was you always had, silently.

JJ knew he loved you and he was sure that you loved him just as equally. No, he knew you did. He knew it from the way you ran your fingers through his hair and the way you lightly traced patterns on his back with your fingers. But he couldn't tell you, he was too afraid. What he had with you was too delicate, one small slip and he was afraid he'd ruin everything he had with you. So instead, he lay there, cherishing your unspoken confessions of love and he pressed three soft kisses to the skin of your neck, bathing in your presence.

There was another party, you got there late and when you arrived you found yourself immediately searching for JJ. But when you did, your heart fell to your stomach. There he was, his arm around another girl and she was beautiful. You knew you weren't technically anything, but it hurt. You stood and stared, frozen for a minute. Your lips downturned and you blinked away the tears that lined your eyes, swallowing deeply, you exhaled and turned away, walking to the table of alcohol.

You snatched a bottle of, you didn't even know what, and you walked to a secluded part of the beach with high intentions of getting shitfaced. About three quarters of the way through the bottle, you felt someone sit next to you, you didn't need to look at them to know it was JJ. "I was lookin' for you." He murmured, leaning his head closer to yours.

"Didn't look like you were trying too hard to find me." You shot back, taking a long swig from the bottle, wincing after forgetting how strong it was.

He scoffed, shaking his head, "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Biting the inside of your cheek you shook your head, "Doesn't matter," you sniffled, wiping a stray tear off of your cheek in an attempt not to let him see.

His eyes squinted and he frowned in confusion, "Yeah, yeah it does if its gonna make you act like I'm not even fucking here."

"It didn't seem to bother you too much when you were flirting with her." You quipped, still not turning to face him. Maybe you were being petty, but you didn't care.

His lips curled up at that, " S'that what this is about?" he asked, chuckling teasingly, when you didn't answer he tilted his head, "What? You jealous?"

"Should I be?" You raised your brows, finally turning to face him properly. He didn't say anything, his eyes just looking into yours intently. A scoff left you and you got ready to stand, but his hands finding their way to your jaw stopped you. You looked at him expectantly, holding your breath and waiting.

His eyes glanced to your lips and back up to your eyes before he slowly leaned towards you and gently pressed his lips to yours. When he pulled back you searched his eyes for something, anything. He sighed, pressing another soft peck to your lips and leant his forehead against yours. "What?" You whispered, hoping that he would give you some sort of inclination that he felt the same way as you did.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you felt him shake his head against yours, he whispered, "I can't."

"Why?" You asked, your eyes opening again and your voice breaking, "You know that I- you know how I- right?" You had continued shakily.

"I know," he responded quietly, one of his hands sliding from your jaw to run through some of your hair and push it back from your face.

Tears lined your eyes, "Then why? Do you not- you don't feel the same?" you questioned downheartedly, you could feel your world slowly shattering around you when he remained silent. Your breath hitched as you waited for a response, ready to pull away from him when his thumb rubbed along your cheekbone soothingly and he gently whispered a small 'hey.'

Instead of answering, you just looked at him, waiting. "I do," he murmured, "you know I do, of course I do."

"Yeah?" you exhaled, and he nodded causing a wide smile to light up your face. You let a tear roll down your cheek and you let out a deep breath of relief, tearily laughing happily as he pressed his grinning lips to yours in a brief kiss.

"Then the girl, what-why?" You asked perplexed, only for him to shrug nonchalantly.

"Wanted to see what you'd do, didn't think it would work out like this, but I'm glad it did." He told you, pulling you into his arms, holding you like you were something fragile. Was he scared? Of course he was, but he felt safe in your arms as you did in his, because the both of you were just so delicate.

Please lmk what you guys think, I'd love to hear from you! I'll also be happy to try and write any requests you may have <3

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #obx #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank one shot #outer banks imagine #obx jj #obx fic #obx jj x reader #obx imagine

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haikyuubby · 2 months ago

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you ; k. bakugo

“i’d rather be with you and all your bullshit.”

syn: studying with bakugo until your mind distracts you…

✭ , ❀ - suggestive themes, katsuki being annoying, black female reader

“FOCUS, DUMBASS!” katsuki says as he throws a pillow at my head.

“i’m trying to, i swear! i just don’t understand this equation.” i reply, taking my pencil off the paper.

katsuki walks over to the desk in studying at, and places himself behind me.

while i’m sitting, i feel his body close to my back.

“here, idiot; to solve this equation you just multiply x by 50. then there’s your answer.”

i stare at my paper, writing down the answer he gave me.

i doubt he’s recognizing the forced proximity that he made between us at this very moment.

“a simple “thanks” would suffice.” katsuki replies to my silence, snarkily.

“katsukiiiii, it’s just too hard. can’t we take a break from studying?” i ask.

without waiting for an answer, i throw myself on top of his bed.

“bro. c’mon, y/n. once you lay down, you don’t get up for anything!” katsuki says as he tries to drag my body off of his bed.

taking this opportunity, i pull his arm, making him fall on top of me.

i look at his face, pink hues flooding his cheeks.

“i guess you’re just now realizing the position we’re in, katsuki?” i say, placing a hand on his face.

katsuki and i aren’t together, but we both like each other.

sometimes, we have heated moments like this one right here, and it’s more of a test to see who can fold first.

“don’t pull me on top of you like this unless you’re planning to do something, y/n.” he says.

quickly, i kiss him, wanting to show him that i had other things on my mind for today instead of just studying.

he pulls me back in by the neck for another kiss, this time it’s more passionate and needy than the last one we shared.

i grab his waist, feeling his built physique.

as i’m feeling up on him, katsuki moves to start kissing my neck and groping my thighs.

“fuck, y/n, you really know how to distract me.” he says, leaving marks along my neck.

“no, no hickies, ‘suki.” i say while squirming, he knew my body so well and never failed to make me feel amazing.

“too late.” he responds, getting up from on top of me.

i sit up, getting a good look of my neck.

“ughhh, katsuki! do you know how much concealer this’ll take to cover up?!” i exclaim, not wanting to even think about how long i’m gonna spend covering this up tomorrow.

“whatever, stop freakin’ out. everyone already knows that we’re basically together, so what’s it matter?” katsuki says, nonchalantly as ever.

this time, i throw a pillow at his face.

“the fuck was that for?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“you serious, katsuki?”

“…yeah?”

“i swear to god, i’ve never met anyone more irritating than you! do you even know what you just said?”

“…”

“i don’t care if we’re “basically together” or not, the thing is that we aren’t yet.”

silence falls upon the room.

i wasn’t exactly mad at his statement, but it’s annoying, he knows how much i want to be together so why’s he teasing me like this?

“okay, that’s my fault. i should’ve asked you out a long time ago, y/n, before we started doing freak shit too. i’m sorry.”

as katsuki says this, he looks away, no doubt in my mind that he’s feeling embarrassed right now.

i sit on his bed with my arms crossed, brows furrowed.

am i genuinely pissed off? no, but i’m gonna milk this moment for everything that it’s worth.

he comes close to me, uncrossing my arms for me.

“go out with me. you actually don’t get a choice so we’re going out first thing tomorrow.”

i smile, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“oh katsuki, i’ve been waiting so long to hear those words from you!” i exclaim.

“don’t be getting all mushy on me now!” he responds.

i guess me being a distraction paid off in the end.

#bakugo x reader oneshot #bakugo x reader smut #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha smut #mha x reader smut #mha x reader #mha imagines #bakugo x black reader

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buckyownsmylife · 10 months ago

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out of the woods (chris evans x famous!reader smut)

the one where Chris watches an interview of you on the Ellen show

Warnings: mention of small stature in comparison to Chris, smut thoughts, Ellen Degeneres trash talking/thinking, cursing, mention of prescription medicine, talk of age gap (reader is younger than Chris), jacking off, daddy kink

WC: 3k

A/N: this doesn't really have an ending, so if you all like it, I might make a series out of it - the idea is that you are also famous (for acting, singing, writing) and have been friends with Chris but there's always this underlying tension between the two of you. It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: no, he's not married in this story nor do I intend to feature Alba in any part of it whatsoever.

Chris’ P.O.V.

I was scrolling through Twitter when I realized some fans were tagging me in a short video of Y/N on Ellen DeGeneres’ show. I knew she had gone there by herself, mostly to promote her new album, but also to give some publicity for our movie, so I was aware that she would probably talk about me at least a bit… Curiosity got the best of me and I clicked the link to check the video for myself.

She looked gorgeous as always, her hair down in that way I loved so much and her skin seemed to be as soft as ever under the mini dress she chose to wear, her legs stretching out and making her look taller than she actually was. I chuckled, remembering just how small she looked by my side.

I remembered one time when I lifted her up, bridal style, and spun her around the pub we had close to the set, after the Patriots had won a game. Despite not understanding the game, she tagged along and celebrated every time I got excited, like the cute person that she was. I got so transfixed by her giggles back then. They were the sweetest sound and the only thing I heard, despite the fact that we were in the middle of a very loud bunch of dudes.

I found myself imagining again, as I had then, what it would be like to have her under me, trapped by my arms in bed, or better yet, against a wall, only my thighs securing her in place while I made her moan with my touch. How would she sound? Or, better yet, how would she feel?

Christ.

Shaking my head, I tried to gather my thoughts so as to not let them stray too far in that direction, something I didn’t have much success in doing, despite the fact that I had been practicing that simple habit every single day since I met her. But it was proving to be a nightmare. She was just far too tempting.

Shaking my head once more, I focused on the video in front of me. My heartbeat had sped up as soon as it started, but I tried to tell myself it was because I was scared for her, since I knew how Ellen could get invasive sometimes.

“So, Y/N…” She started, eyeing my co-star. “You have just finished working on a movie with someone we’re very familiar with, isn’t it?”

Y/N giggled, nodding at the blonde woman. “I suppose so. We have just finished the promotion for it, maybe you guys have already seen it?” She asked the crowd, who went nuts at her. It was sweet to see this kind of feedback, I truly believed in our movie and the fact that I got to know her was just an added bonus.

“For those of you who don’t know what we’re talking about, it’s called ‘Be Here Now’ and it’s currently in a theater near you. Y/N stars alongside Chris Evans, who we love so dearly here, and they play brother and sister as they try to reconnect after their parents' passing.”

More applause at that. I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes at her idea of love. Last time I was there, she made me pretty uncomfortable, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“So, how was the process for you? We know you’re familiar with the filming process, since you star in your own series ‘Evermore’, that sent you to stardom, along with your songs, but you had said before you’d never act outside of it, since your true passion relies on music. What changed your mind?” Ellen sat back as she said that, already comfortable with the fact that something good would come out of this interview, since Y/N had been pretty vocal about what made her decide to do the movie, even with me.

“Chris did, actually. Or, in fact, the fact that he was cast in it.” A chorus of “aws” echoed around the room and there was no way to know if they were real or prompted, but they were quickly interrupted by the host.

“So, you were a fan?” She instigated, as to what Y/N nodded again.

“Of course. Well, my mom more than me, but I was the one who introduced his work to her, so…” She poked her tongue out at the camera, to which my heart (and my cock) jumped in response. “Ever since I got into this, when I first had the idea for Evermore with James, I told him time and time again I would never act outside of this, because I had no intention whatsoever on becoming an actress. I have always been in this for the music. Well, the writing. I’m a writer, I like writing scripts and songs, I’ve fallen into this performer thing by accident. But I’ve always been adamant about the fact that if I ever had the opportunity to act alongside Chris, I’d take it. It doesn’t matter that I don’t think I’m good enough. It didn’t even matter if the script was terrible, which thankfully wasn’t the case, I just really admire him and his work and I would never live with myself if I turned this opportunity down.”

Even though I knew most of this, I couldn’t help but to gloat at the fact that this incredible woman actually admired me. She was so much better than me in so many things, even acting, and she still thought I was great enough to get her to participate in a movie.

“So, what I’m hearing is, you have a little crush, that’s right?” And there it was. The coup. Of course. That evil wench…

“That’s what you took out of everything I said? Jesus, Ellen, has anyone ever told you that you listen like a man?” Ouch. That one was perfect. Being the ambassador for females and lesbians everywhere, it couldn’t not hurt her, especially coming from someone as angelical, sweet and universally-loved as Y/N. I appreciated the quick second her smile faltered before it became plastered on her again.

“No, I haven’t heard that before… But tell me, have you met any of the other Marvel actors? I mean, granted, there are a lot of them now, but especially those who have worked closely with Chris?” Y/N shrugged at that.

“I have been friends with Elizabeth Olsen for a very long time, we’re very close, but other than that, no. I haven’t had the chance to properly meet, or rather, hang out with any of them.”

“Who’s first on your list?”

“Anthony Mackie,” Y/N promptly responded, getting a few laughs and claps from the audience.

“My, you had that answer ready” Ellen teased, to which Y/N simply shrugged again.

“We talk through social media sometimes and I know for a fact he’s hilarious. I hope we get to meet sometime. I might just have to bug Chris about it.” She had already, in fact. I couldn’t wait to introduce them to each other and I was already planning my next party just to be able to make that happen.

“What about Sebastian?” Ellen asked, a glinter of something extremely suspicious in her eyes.

“Sebastian Stan? No, we haven’t met, but I’d love to get the chance to someday. He seems extremely sweet and I know he’s very talented and Chris loves him, so I think it’s a matter of time until it happens.”

“I heard somewhere you had a bit of a crush on him, right? Even if you don’t admit that you have one on Chris?” This fucking woman. I could fucking kill her right now. But, to my surprise, Y/N simply laughed.

“Truly, you have got to check your hearing sometime soon, because that is absolutely false.”

“Really?” Ellen pushed, to which Y/N beamed even brighter at her.

“Positive.” A beat as the two women stared at each other down. “I think what you meant is that I have had a huge crush on his character, Bucky Barnes.” Y/N explained, laughing at the host. “I admit that only happened after I saw Sebastian’s portrayal of him, but my attraction to a fictional character can’t be really connected to him.”

Ellen nodded, obviously not paying attention to anything she was just saying. “Well, let’s figure out who do you actually feel attracted to, shall we? Let’s play fuck, marry or kill!”

The audience screamed and, to my surprise, Y/N didn’t even blink, a patient smile painting her lips as she calmly watched the interviewer. “So, Y/N, between Anthony, Sebastian and Chris, who would you rather fuck, marry or kill?”

Y/N shook her head, still smiling at the older woman. “I couldn’t possibly answer truthfully to this question, Ellen, mostly because I am not capable of feeling carnal attraction to people I have never met, but I can 100% assure you that I would marry Chris without blinking twice if there was a choice.”

My heart skipped a beat at her words. The crowd went crazy, obviously satisfied with the answer.

“And you’re sure you don’t have a crush on him?” Ellen’s eyes glistened with mischief, as she stared at the younger woman.

“Ellen, I think the question here is… Are you sure *you don’t have a crush on him?” The laughs from the audience was the last thing to come from the video before it stopped, and I found myself echoing them in the silent living room. Oh my, how I missed this girl.

I tapped my fingers nervously on my jean-clad thigh, looking around the room. I had been staying in Boston with my family for the last few weeks, since the movie premiered and we had finished promotion, and I had found myself constantly calling her to share funny stories from my nephews or to hear about her day. I knew she wanted to meet my family, she had always said she admired the fact that we were so close, despite there being so many of us.

My mom obviously loved her, having been a fan of hers long before I even heard about her existence. So what if…?

Before I could second-guess myself, I pressed call in the name of the woman I had been thinking about. The phone rang three times before she picked up, stopping me from giving up on this crazy idea.

“Hey, Chris! How are you? I missed talking to you, it’s so weird seeing you everyday for four months and then suddenly not at all anymore.” I know I was literally forty, but I literally melted at this girl’s words.

“Did you now? Is that because you wish we were married, so we could see each other everyday?” Her breath hitched as she realized I had seen the video and I could just imagine the cute little embarrassed expression she was probably sporting right now. I tried to ignore the fact that my words and tone of speaking had suddenly become way too similar to when I was flirting with a girl.

“Fuck, you saw the interview.” I had never heard Y/N curse before, so the fact that I suddenly had no control over my mouth could be explained by the unavailability of blood in my head, since it had all gone south.

“Come stay with me for a while,” I spilled suddenly. Silence was the only answer I got from the other side of the call and my heart sped up in a way that only happened when I was truly anxious. I was already cursing myself out for scaring the poor girl when she finally answered.

“Are you serious?” She asked, her voice barely over a whisper. It was obvious how vulnerable she was feeling, and a sense of overprotectiveness overcame me. “Please don’t joke about this, Evans. This better not be a prank. ‘Cause I really do miss you a lot.”

Fuck indeed. There was no way something good would come out of this idea, but there was no way I would go back either.

“Of course I’m being serious. Come to Boston. You can stay with me, but I think my mom is going to steal you before you even settle in.” A large breath came from the other side.

“Okay. Okay! I’m going to pack my bags. Yay! I’m so excited!” She was clearly jumping up and down with the perspective of what was to come, and I couldn’t help the smile that painted my lips not only at her cuteness, but also due to my own excitement at her arrival.

“Great! I’ll be waiting.” My heartbeat still hadn’t gotten back to a normal speed. “Text me the details of your arrival, I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Chris, I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” I knew what she meant. If someone caught sight of us together at the airport, or even the fact that she was here in Boston, all hell would break loose in the press.

“Shhh, don’t worry about it, baby girl. I’ll take care of it.” I froze, only then realizing what I had just called her. A few seconds ticked by while I silently freaked out, wondering how I could brush this over, when she intervened.

“Thanks, Chris. That was pretty much the best thing I’ve ever heard. I just might forgo my prescription medicine while I’m over there, because you’ve been able to completely relax me with just two sentences.” She giggled and if I was at first leaning towards thinking she was sarcastically teasing me, just by the nature of her words, the tone of her voice made it clear that she actually meant what she had just said.

Once again, I was at a loss for words, especially because I couldn’t help but to allow myself to imagine that this was her, flirting with me a little bit. The blood I so desperately needed in my brain had once again left to pump another organ full of life. I was saved from having to answer, though, as Y/N quickly wrapped up the conversation.

“I’ll text you the details of my flight in a little bit. See you soon, angel.” She hung up before I could process the nickname she had given me.

“Fucking hell,” I whispered, finally relenting and getting up from the couch to take a shower to rub one off.

I had found myself in this situation more times than usual after meeting Y/N. Normally, I’d only do it out of boredom, preferring to fuck someone whenever I’d get sexually frustrated. But the last few times I had taken girls from parties into my bedroom, I could only see her. Y/N. And I hated how disgusting I felt after it was done, the fact that I didn’t care about the girl I just fucked and the fact that I imagined my younger friend.

So now I resorted to this kind of activity. As the warm water started to hit my body, I allowed my right hand to travel the extent of my body until I found my hardened member. “Fuck,” I found myself whispering into the bathroom as I tugged on my cock. Images that I had spent a lot of time concocting in my head flashed in front of me, all of them starred by Y/N.

I imagined her nude body here with me, under the falling water. How her breasts would heave with every breath she took. Would she be as filled with desire for me as I was for her? I imagined the path the warm droplets of water would run across her skin and how I wished I could lick its remnants.

Maybe she’d fall to her knees before me, looking up from under her eyelashes with that coy expression that drove me crazy. Her lips would softly kiss the tip of my cock and she’d still be watching me, analyzing my reactions. I would do my best to restrain myself, allowing her to get accustomed to my member, but my hands would eventually find their way to her wet strands, creating a makeshift ponytail that would facilitate my vision of her work while I still managed to control myself and not use it to guide her.

She’d kiss the skin all around my cock, quick little kisses just to tease me before going further down to suck on my balls. I’d throw my head back, begging her to do what I needed, and she’d finally succumb, wrapping her lips around my tip before slowly sucking further down my dick. She’d be relentless, eventually being able to swallow my whole member down her throat, and I would look down again to see her looking up at me with a proud gaze in her eyes.

“Such a good girl,” I would whisper, just before I finally snapped, using my grip on her hair to pull her from my cock until just the tip remained tightly squeezed by her lips, until I pushed her all the way against me again. “Take this fucking cock like the little perfect girl you are for daddy.”

And she’d take it like a pro, a satisfied smile on her lips as I fucked her mouth, eventually breaching into her throat, making her gasp for air, tears in her eyes as her hands flew to my hips in an attempt to slow me down. But she wouldn’t really, opting for simply carving her nails on my flesh as she took every single rope of cum I’d deposit between her eager lips.

Fuck. I let the water wash away the sin I had just committed while sending up a prayer for better control when Y/N arrived. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in the bathroom, touching myself while she was at my house.

#my fics #chris evans smut #chris evans #smut #rpf #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader

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luxxid · 2 years ago

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"why do you love me?"

characters : ayato, albedo, al haitham, kazuha, tartaglia, tighnari, venti, scaramouche, heizou.

warnings: tooth rotting, cotton candy fluff, gn!reader, kissing, teasing, reader being a bit too curious.

☆ ayato who gently smiles, his eyes avert to your orbs, holding intense gaze withing the depths of your pupils. "well darling, your the only one who made me feel a certain way, your the only one who showered me with the riches of love and the true meanings of life." his soft curve still drawn onto his youthful face. his hand reaches out, a gesture of warmth and comfort. he holds your warm hands in his, and you feel the love and passion between the both of you. he leers and speaks once more, "i'm glad i found you." his words linger in the air as if they were a sweet melody, and you can feel the intensity of his emotion seep into the depths of your soul. he looks deeply into your eyes and you can feel the warmth of his love reaching out to you and protecting you in his arms. so this is what true love felt like.

☆ albedo who looked up from his notes, his face showed no trace of doubt on why you were asking this question, but his mind was in question. he set the feather dipped in ink down on a piece of paper. he looked up and met your gaze, a thousand questions in his eyes. he opened his mouth to ask but no sound came out, just a faint exhale. he glanced away, his brow furrowed in thought. "what can i say? your like a white rose in a bundle of red roses." he stated, he was unsure on what to say. he paused, his eyes searching for understanding. "it's like you stand out from others," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. he cleared his throat and shifted back to his notes, a silent understanding between the two of you. his heart was thumping. oh god he loved you so much.

☆ al haitham furrows his eyebrows in response to your question. confusion runs wildly in his green spheres. "your more bearable than kaveh and anyone i've met." he responded calmly before diverting his gaze into the book he held. you were taken aback by his response, not expecting that answer from him. he seemed to sense your surprise and managed a small smile before he looked away again. you found yourself smiling in response as you realized he wasn't as bad as you thought he was. his finger tracing on lines of the pages, ocassionaly shifting his concentrated gaze to you.

☆ kazuha who gently takes your hand in his, his other hand brushing a strand of your hair to the side, "it's simple dear, i love you more than others." he speaks out like the wind, his words loitering in the air, a crimson hue powdered your cheeks, he emitted a gentle chuckle in return to your bashful form. he really loved you. really. a soft kiss was pressed onto the crook of your neck while he squeezed your hand, transporting pure love to you. his voice resonated with sincerity, pouring out love as sincere as it was deep, letting you know that his love was something one of a kind, something that would never be replaced.

☆ ajax feels as if he had stopped breathing. why would you ask him such a question? "i love you because..." he muttered anxiously, unable to end his statement. a warm hand folded against his cold ones, a forced smile returned to his spry face. "i don't know how to explain it love. did i ever tell you that true love can't be explained unless you actually experience it? it's like that." he stammered, his heart racing faster than light. only you could make him feel like this, only you. he felt his heart flutter as the realization of what true love meant sunk in, and he knew that only with you could he truly feel this way.

☆ tighnari stops in his tracks. the forest ranger was surprised by the numerous amount of questions you had up your sleeve. he turns around to meet your hypnotizing orbs. "i don't think now is the time to be asking such foolish questions y/n." he states without concern. yet, something in his guts were pulling him to give you a proper reply. he sighs, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "you taught me how to use a spade correctly, that's one reason maybe. his mind wanders off to collect words to reply your oh-so-curious question. "i love how you keep me entertained during forest ranges, just like how you did now." you blink once, twice, thrice. he slowly turns away, a small smile playing on his lips. you watch as he slowly walks away, each step growing further away from you. you really loved him, so did he.

☆ venti smirks like a madman, his soft giggles were soothing to say the least. "i love it when you lend me mora to buy wine!" he obviated loudly, "venti you still owe me 400 mora from last week-" your words were cut off by the bard himself. "uh-uh we don't talk about that windblume." a large grin present on his face. archons, he was so childish. "but i also love it when you listen to my lyre" you sighed, shaking your head. "venti, you really need to be more responsible." he chuckled, taking a step closer. "but I'm so much more fun when I'm not!" he winked, his smile widening. mhm, he was never meant to change.

☆ scaramouche appears agitated with your question, his purple optics staring daggers into yours. "i only love you because your the only one i can handle-!" he blurted out, his face was covered in a pink palette. "i don't love you because i have to," he added, the intensity of his gaze increasing, "i love you because i want to." his tone softened as he finished his statement, the intensity of his gaze fading away. he meant it, of that you were sure. his expression was sincere, he wasn't just saying what he thought you wanted to hear. a small smile tugged across his lips, of course he wouldn't allow you to know his soft facade that only appears for you.

☆ heizou smirks menacingly, almost as if he was amused by your question. "you've been a bit too influenced by me, hm? he jived, his slender fingers petted a branch of your hair, "well.. i love you because you're the only one who can understand me, even when i don't understand myself. you challenge me, never letting me remain the same and you make me feel stagnate." he spoke like a breeze flowing abundantly. his breath washed over you. "and that's why I love you," he concluded, a determined glint in his eye. "oh and i also love you for this," he added before grabbing your face towards his before moulding his warm lips against yours. oh well, seems like he's got his way.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #ayato x reader #albedo x reader #al haitham x reader #kazuha x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #tighnari x reader #venti x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #heizou x reader

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waliminium · 2 months ago

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Fires We Can't Control

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader Warnings: adult language, strong sexual content, angst, drinking, intense physical tension, mature themes Word Count: 1.8k Summary: Harvey shows up at your door, half-drunk and burning with curiosity after receiving a cryptic text from you that has been driving him wild. He’s done playing games, and he’s here for answers—no more waiting. What begins as a heated confrontation quickly spirals into something far more dangerous. Passion ignites between you two, and suddenly, the line between teasing and something more blurs into nothing.

Harvey Specter had a lot of things on his mind, but for the past few months, you had been one of the things that he couldn’t shake off. It wasn’t just your sarcastic remarks or the way you both kept the banter sharp—it was the way he couldn’t help but notice how his heart skipped a beat when you were near. And he hated himself for it.

You had never shown any signs of wanting to take things further, so he kept it light. Teasing touches, playful flirtation, just enough to keep things interesting without ever crossing that line. He didn’t want to risk ruining the one thing he knew was perfect—this thing between you that wasn’t defined, but was always there.

But then you sent him that damn text.

It was simple, cryptic, and the kind of message that left him staring at his phone for a few minutes, trying to read between the lines. What did it mean? What the hell were you really trying to say?

And just like that, Harvey was on a mission. Not to win a case this time, but to track you down. To find out what the hell you were playing at. He was ready to chase you down, through every street in New York if he had to, until you gave him answers.

But he quickly realized that the chase might not be about the message at all. Maybe it was about figuring out how much he was willing to risk to turn all this playful tension into something real.

And you? You’d never been one to give him easy answers. So, when he showed up at your door, half-drunk, eyes burning with curiosity, and the same cocky smile he always wore, he knew he’d finally found something he wanted more than just a game.

You were just about to shut off the lights and call it a night when the sudden, unmistakable sound of knocking echoed through your apartment. It was fast, almost urgent, but somehow still carrying that familiar, cocky rhythm.

You opened the door without hesitation, and there he was—Harvey Specter, looking disheveled, a little off-kilter. His usually pristine suit was slightly wrinkled, his tie a bit too loose, and his perfectly styled hair was a mess. He was standing there in the hallway, eyes burning with a mix of frustration and something else—a raw, unspoken desire that you hadn’t seen in him before.

"Harvey?" You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask the shock in your voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze was locked on you, scanning every inch of your face as if trying to figure out what you were really thinking. And just as you were about to ask again, his lips quirked into that damn smirk of his, though there was an edge to it that felt different tonight.

"I got your message," he finally said, voice low, the words slurring just slightly. "You know, the one that made me lose my damn mind for the past two hours trying to figure out what it meant."

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe, keeping your composure even as your heart picked up its pace. "So you came all the way here just to ask about a text?"

He took a step closer, his presence filling the space between you. "I came here because I need to know," he said, his voice dropping, soft and dangerous. "And you’re gonna tell me."

A shiver ran down your spine as he reached up, brushing his thumb along the edge of your jaw. His touch was light, tentative, like he was testing the waters—but you both knew it was more than that. You could feel the electricity between you, the pull that neither of you could ignore anymore.

"And if I don’t?" you challenged, tilting your head slightly, just enough to test his resolve.

"Then I guess I’ll just have to figure it out the hard way," Harvey muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took another step forward. The space between you was almost nonexistent now, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was dangerously close, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart was pounding, but you held your ground. "What’s the hard way, Harvey?"

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, and in the silence that followed, you both knew exactly what was about to happen.

Harvey took the final step, closing the distance, and in one swift motion, he kissed you—hard, demanding, a kiss that sent a jolt through your entire body. It wasn’t a question anymore. He wasn’t asking for permission, wasn’t waiting for a response. It was the culmination of all the tension, all the unspoken things hanging between you two, crashing down in that single, heated kiss.

When he pulled back, both of you were breathless, his hands still lingering on your shoulders, his thumb gently tracing the edge of your collarbone. His voice was rough when he spoke again.

"So, tell me. Was that the answer you were looking for?"

You couldn’t help but smirk, even as your pulse raced. "Maybe it was the answer I needed."

He let out a soft chuckle, leaning in again, but this time it wasn’t about pressing for answers—it was about something else entirely. You both knew it. And neither of you were willing to back down.

Harvey’s lips lingered just inches from yours, his breath a tantalizing mix of whiskey and something darker. His eyes were locked on yours, smoldering, like he was waiting for something—waiting for you to say something, to make the next move. But you didn’t speak. You let the silence stretch between you, charged with a thousand unspoken words.

He groaned low in his throat, his hands sliding down your arms, pulling you even closer. The space between you felt like it didn’t exist anymore, like your bodies were magnetized, drawn together by something neither of you could control. His lips brushed against your neck, the faintest of touches, but it was enough to make your skin erupt in goosebumps.

"I’m done guessing," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough. "Done wondering if you feel it too." His hands slid to the back of your neck, tilting your head back slightly, exposing the soft line of your throat. "I need to know. Right now."

You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you tilted your chin up, just enough to meet his eyes again. The question was there, hanging between you two, in the tension, the way you were both breathing a little too fast. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darkened further.

“I’m not asking for permission anymore, you know,” he continued, his fingers trailing up your back, the touch almost burning. “I’m just gonna take what I want.”

His lips crashed back to yours, more desperate this time, the heat between you building in a way that felt like it was about to explode. There was no more teasing, no more waiting. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, feeling his heartbeat pulse in time with yours.

His body pressed into yours, and you felt the unmistakable heat of his desire. Your breath was ragged now, mixing with his as your mouths moved together, kissing and tasting, pushing and pulling. You couldn’t get enough of him. It was as if everything else had faded away, and there was nothing left but the two of you—locked in a kiss that was messy and hungry, but oh so needed.

When he finally pulled away, just enough to catch his breath, his lips were wet and swollen, his expression a mix of frustration and something deeper—something more vulnerable.

“You still haven’t told me what that text meant,” he said, voice hoarse.

You smirked, running your thumb along his bottom lip, feeling the faint trace of a smile tugging at the corners of your own mouth. “Maybe you’ll figure it out,” you whispered, a challenge in your voice, “if you stick around long enough.”

Harvey’s eyes darkened even more, his hands moving down to your waist, gripping you like he was never letting go. “I plan to.”

With that, he pulled you back into a kiss, more demanding this time, his hands exploring the curves of your body as if he was marking you, claiming you in a way that felt irrevocable.

And you didn’t stop him.

The kiss didn’t stop. It was the kind of kiss that pulled you under, like a tidal wave crashing over you both. Every second felt like it was stretching out into eternity, but in the best way possible. The heat was intense, almost scorching, as if neither of you could get close enough, couldn’t touch enough. You wanted more, he wanted more—your hands were tangled in each other’s clothes, fumbling, eager, desperate.

Harvey’s lips left yours only for a split second, but his mouth was everywhere else: your neck, your jaw, the sensitive skin beneath your ear. The sounds between you two were raw—breaths, murmurs, the heat of your bodies pressing against each other. You felt him against you, hard and unyielding, a physical reminder of the desire that had been simmering between you for so long.

And then, just like that, the world outside your apartment ceased to exist. All that mattered was the way his hands were tracing the curve of your back, the way your body was reacting to every touch, every movement. The taste of him lingered on your lips, intoxicating, and you couldn’t get enough.

Harvey pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his pupils blown wide, face flushed with the aftermath of the kiss. He was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling beneath you. His hands slid down to your hips, squeezing just hard enough to leave a mark, a reminder that this—whatever this was—wasn’t going to be easy to forget.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, voice thick with desire, but there was an edge of something else. Maybe it was the vulnerability that crept in when he let his guard down, even for a moment. “The kind of trouble that makes me want to do it all over again.”

You smirked, knowing exactly how to push him. “Maybe that’s the point, Harvey. You wanted answers. But I think you’ll have to work a little harder for them.”

He raised an eyebrow, but the smirk on his face told you he was up for the challenge. “Don’t tempt me.”

And that’s when you saw it—the moment when he realized that this wasn’t just about the text anymore. It was about you. It was about both of you, tangled in this mess of passion, desire, and something that neither of you wanted to admit—that something more.

#harvey specter #harvey specter fanfic #harvey specter imagine #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter x you #suits imagine #suits series #suits tv

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fallen-w1ngs · 1 month ago

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'' BLINDSIDED ,,

|| pairings: dabi x gn!reader / touya todoroki x gn!reader

|| warnings: dabi is in rehab, i explain it later. reader is blind.

|| oh my god, achilles writing about someone who's not a hero birdman? crazy. dabi's gonna be ooc since idk how to write him

|| word count: 1.7k

|| Touya Todoroki, more commonly known as Dabi. In this small dabble/fic, the League of Villains were caught and detained. However, through the power of fanfiction, Dabi and the others were allowed to go through rehab (in the prison first), be let out in small time increments while being watched over by some hero or guard, and lastly they were put under a heroes care to make sure they don't.. Y'know, get worse. Dabi was put under, you guessed it, Endeavors care. And, lastly, if they so choosed, the former villains could become heroes, or at least sidekicks.

|| He absolutely hated it, what's worse was that he wasn't able to use his quirk for a year since he had a quirk anklet thing, he didn't know what it was called. Was he happy he wasn't in prison anymore? Yeah, of course. Did he act like it? Hell no. He hated Endeavor with a burning passion, and he stole his credit card more times than he can count with the help of Shoto and Natsuo. Fuyumi was against it, though.

|| He got to visit Rei as well, which was.. Nice enough. He didn't really care much for his mom. He did care, but.. It was weird, whatever, he doesn't care about anything. All he wants is to be able to use his quirk and be free of Endeavor. At least he could laze around the house most days, it was, obviously, nicer than the old League of Villains place.. At least he didn't have to scrap for food. He could have cold soba with Shoto everyday if he wanted.

|| Gah! Whatever. Plus it's not like he could go anywhere without people flinching away from him everytime they saw his face. I mean, it made sense. Notorious villain, ugly set of scars. Makes sense why people flinched away. He understood, honestly if someone didn't flinch from him, he'd think they were a psychopath. Who wouldn't be scared of a known villain who's murdered people??

|| But then there was.. You. Dabi had met you in front of a small cafe that is the only place Dabi didn't feel like he was hated, or cast aside. Again, people hating him was totally valid and he understood why they did, he just needed a break. But, I digress. When he first met you, you were sipping on your beverage of choice and, at least appeared, to be looking out the window. You seemed so... Soft as the light hit your face. But, Dabi being Dabi, he just ignored you every time he saw you. Well, acted like he ignored you, in reality he glanced over to you a few times.

|| This day was different, you left before he was going to leave and you knocked over your.. Cane? How did he never notice that before? You tried to find it, using the table as a crutch but it was too far. So what did Dabi do? Look confused for a moment as you struggled before scoffing and helping you out. Why he did? He didn't know, god maybe the rehab wasn't getting to his head.

|| "Think you dropped this," He lifted the cane and handed it over to your, very very VERY grateful self as you thanked him profusely. With that he left you alone as you used your cane/walking stick to help you leave the cafe. And that's your official meeting!

|| The next few days were pretty typical, however you did say hi to him at times after you found out his usual table. With much failed attempts. You never knew his name so you were just like "Hiya stranger!" or just a simple "Goodmorning" or something along those lines. He enjoyed it but never showed it, always grumbling a small "Hello" back. He hadn't told anyone about you, not his siblings, definitely not his dad or mom, definitely not the League they'd make fun of him, the only one who he'd be somewhat willing to say to is... Oh god, the damned bird.

|| Ever since rehab, him and Hawks had gotten on good terms, the only guy Dabi would begrudgingly call a friend outside of the League. They'd text.. Quite frequently, tbh, they'd trauma bond about their pasts so it was semi easy to talk to him. I digress, Dabi's mentioned you to Hawks once or twice. And he doesn't know how to talk more to you.. He doesn't know why he wants to talk to you.

|| "Sounds like you're just touch starved and want a friend?" Hawks stated, but sounded like more of a question as he snacked on some chips lazing about on his couch while Dabi was out on his balcony having a smoke. "Just say hi to them? Or sit at their table or something"

|| "Sitting at their table huh?" Dabi muttered that, actually taking that into consideration as he blew some smoke out of his mouth. The two of them stayed in silence for a few moments, the only noise was the tv, Keigo's crunching and Dabi blowing out more smoke. That was their friendship, and Dabi actually enjoyed it. Especially since he uh... Didn't have to betray him or whatever, ahem.

|| He left Keigo's place, giving his lighter back and saying bye to him. By now it was dark, like.. 11 pm? He'd like to say, he didn't know, his phone died a while ago. He kinda regretted not asking Keigo for his charger but whatever, it was a nice enough night to walk around, taking a small detour through the park. He could actually enjoy the city without having to worry about getting arrested or.. Hey.

|| He saw you on the park bench, just chilling there. You didn't have a phone out, not like you could stare at it. You just had your head tilted up to the sky. Damn, you looked so.. Peaceful. Dabi didn't wanna interrupt whatever the hell you were doing, but he could just... Talk to you. And he did. He sat on the bench beside you as you kept your head up to the sky.

|| "Hey, stranger," He muttered. You knew that voice! Your ears perked up the second you heard his voice and turned his direction, a small smile on your face as your gaze bore into his.

|| "Hey.. Uh.. Never caught your name, friend." You said, as you let out a small chuckle. The cold air around the two of you showed your small breath. Is this what peace felt like?? Is this what being a normal person felt like? Dabi didn't know, but he sure as hell isn't going to let it go. But.. What was he going to say for his name? Dabi? And let you know he was a villain and he'd never talk to you ever again? Or Touya? The name he so hated and renounced long ago.

|| ".. My name's Touya." He said quietly. He decided if he was going to befriend you, might as well not screw it up before he could even hear what your name was. He watched as you nodded, quirking your eyebrow up as you tapped your chin. What the hell were you thinking about that made you seem so.. Amused?

|| "You sure it isn't Dabi?" You asked with a small smile, a bit of mischief in your tone as Dabi froze. You knew?? Since when? For once in his life, he was speechless. No witty comeback, no insult to throw, nothing. He just sat there as you laughed in amusement.

|| Once you've finished your fit of giggles and chuckles you introduced yourself. Huh, now he knows your name. He repeated it quietly with a nod. He still didn't understand.. Why weren't you running in terror? Or insulting him for being a terrible person? Why did you just smile at him.. Like he did nothing wrong?

|| You admitted you asked the cafe owner who he was a few weeks back. Ever since the day he helped you with your cane, you were always.. At least interested in becoming friends! Sure, it freaked you out when you found out Dabi was a villain, but after learning he'd gone through rehab, you were more.. Relaxed? Afterall, he seemed nice.

|| You and Dabi- no, Touya, stayed on the bench for a long while, talking. For once! Learning about each other, and the more Touya learned abour you.. The more he wanted to let you into his life. Let you learn about his family, learn about his past.. Not be Touya, not be Dabi, but just.. Well, he didn't know. But, whatever.

|| Now! He offered to walk you home which you happily agreed, it was only a five minute walk though, you'd already memorized the way. He wondered why you only had a cane instead of a guide dog, you were saving up for one... Hmm..

|| He bid his goodbyes, promising to see you (haha) the next day and getting scolded by Fuyumi for being out late. After she learnwd WHY he was so late, oh she was ECSTATIC to find out Touya made a new friend!! Especially the one from the cafe! (He's told her about you before.)

|| Time skip to around a few weeks later, you and Touya had breakfast together at the cafe. You've met Fuyumu, Natsuo, and Shoto!! They were so nice! Shoto was really funny, really blunt! Fuyumi was so kind and soft spoken and Natsuo was entertaining! Much to Touya's dismay, you ended up close with all of his siblings. He wanted you for himself- wait what?

|| Ah, well, your friendship with Touya grew as the two of you kept hanging out. He'd talk about his home life, how he's going through rehab and that by the end of it he'd work as a hero. More of an underground one, but still a hero. And everytime he'd speak, you'd be there to listen.

|| When you would talk, oh you know that all of Touya's attention would be on you. Wether you knew it or not, he'd stare at you, all wide eyed as he listened to every word you said as if it were the law. He never did that with anyone else..

|| The two of you grew close as time went on, when he debuted as a "Rehabilitated Hero" (that wasn't his hero name), you were his first and number one fan! And don't think his family didn't notice! They had grown close to you, especially Fuyumi. She absolutely ADORED that you were Touya's friend (he.. didn't have much friends.).

|| Though, she could tell.. Your relationship was shifting. Touya was falling for you, and unbeknownst to anyone else, you were falling for him.

|| i had an idea and ran with it! idk how good this is, might make a second part but idk! js needed to cope from doing finals with this <//3

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wordsarelife · 9 months ago

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𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: theo and you get your happy ever after

warnings: i don’t think there are any! let me know if that’s not true :)

note: here it is!! finally the epilogue is here! i loved writing this series so much!! please let me know what you thought of this chapter and/or the story in general!

!!!make sure to keep your eyes on the extras that are coming tomorrow (and feel free to request drabbles/ fics on future or past situtations in the don’t blame me universe, or questions you still have!! i will be thrilled to answer them!!)!!!

word count: 3.9k

note: not really happy with the outcome of this chapter, but whatever..

previous chapter | masterlist |

"mommy?“ a voice called and your head snapped to the side. "can you give me one of those paper towels?“

you rolled your eyes smiling at his antics and nodded, before you threw one in his direction.

"mate, you know i love you, but please stop acting out your mommy kink on my girlfriend“ theo hit mattheo's shoulder.

"well, y/n is the closest thing i have to a mother right now" mattheo argued dramatically "she takes care of me when i'm sick, she cuts apple slices for me—"

"—we've been on tour for two months" theo shook his head "it's not like you're never gonna see your mum again, get a grip"

"it's alright" you smiled. "i don't mind"

mattheo nodded "see?"

“yeah, whatever” theo shook his head “just get ready, please? we start in ten”

after the concert a few months ago, cursed legacy had gotten their record deal. dave had been impressed by their show, he wanted them to play opener for the rest of the following tour leg.

as soon as the school holidays began you joined them, traveling around the country.

theo and you couldn’t be happier. everything was going great and you were ready to tackle life together.

since the concert, theo had not stopped writing songs and they were only a month away from releasing their second album, soft death.

he was always talking about how you were the muse behind most of the songs. and you had to admit that they had never had so many love songs played (or written) before.

during the tour they had made many new fans, their followers growing while were getting more and more attention. they were already playing a few songs from the new album constantly and about you was a fan favorite. your favorite was echoes of devotion, which theo had written for you. it was the second song they played every night.

“see you later” mattheo took a look to his phone, checking the time, before he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek and quickly walked away.

theo rolled his eyes before he turned to you and gave you a long and passionate kiss, before he too took off after mattheo to get on stage.

you collected your things, before you started walking. you already knew that it would be hard to feel normal again once you were home in a month and college would start. how could you ever live a normal life after being treated like royalty?

you took your stage pass and walked in the direction of the tents. you hadn’t seen the rest of the band in hours. the reasons were simple enough. draco and blaise had made it their personal chore to walk around the venues before every show, claiming something about a good luck charm they absolutely needed. they had asked you to accompany them on a few occasions, which you did but quickly regretted after they spent the entire time talking about their hook ups from the night before.

they had already adopted the rockstar life style.

quite the opposite of that was enzo. he spent hours in the back of the bus, or in his hotel room, talking to april on his phone. she had come to a few shows, but she couldn’t be there constantly because of work and so they had decided to face time or text in any given moment. you rarely saw the boy without his phone.

april had been scared that their relationship would not last. she had feared that enzo would quickly realize how limiting a relationship was when there were a few hundred girls basically licking the ground on which he walked.

you had told her that enzo wasn’t like that, but you could still understand why she was feeling that way and promised to keep your eye on him.

enzo had done nothing more than proof the both of you terribly wrong. most of the time he did not even look into the direction of other girls, let alone talk to them.

that the rest of the band was busy could’ve been to your and theo’s advantage, making it possible to enjoy time for only the two of you, if there hadn’t been matt, who made it his personal task to follow you around like a lost puppy.

you loved him, you really did. during the time the both of you had only grown closer, going back to the sibling like relationship you had once had, but at times you wished he was anywhere else.

especially that one time when theo and you were making out on the couch of the tour bus and mattheo came barging in and acted like he didn’t know that he had just interrupted something, before he planted himself in the middle of theo and you and started playing star wars on the tv.

"good evening!" enzo's voice roared through the microphone, after they had come out and played only angel. the crowd cheered. "the next song we're gonna play is about a very special someone. our front man's girl to be exact. he's a very smitten man, so naturally, this is a very emotional love song, feel free to hold up your flashlights.. here is echoes of devotion!"

the crowd cheered once again, while you clapped your hands, your cheeks as red as the curtain next to the stage. theo's voice was always what started the song, he looked just as cheesy as you did, even if enzo had made it a habit to say the same lines every night, you and theo were still flustered about his words.

my love, like orpheus, i'd come,

to tread through shadows, my body numb,

but truth be told, in my hearts embrace,

i fear i'd falter, lose the race.

the music only set in after that. a steady and slow beat that was always responsible for your shiver as it guarded his voice through the chorus.

for i'd turn back, just like him,

my gaze would brake, our future grim,

your fading form, in shadows deep,

my love, too strong, my soul to keep.

the song was balancing right between breaking the crowds heart and animating them to sing along. it was the perfect mix of love and heartache, often making your eyes swell with tears, when you saw theo react the same way.

the song had a special place in both of your hearts. for one part, it was comparing you and theo to your favorite myth, which theo had done knowingly. and second, it reminded you both of how hard love could be, how even loving people deeply could led to hurting them.

it was one of the first songs theo did not sing entirely on his own. the second verse was accompanied by background vocals of the rest of the boys, making it sound almost dreamy and ethereal.

like orpheus, with his lyre's song,

i'd sing to you, all night long,

but in that moment, with fate's cruel twist,

i'd choose your eyes, and lose what's missed.

the second chorus was a little different to the first one, deeper, as theo had said.

for i'd turn back just like him,

the current stronger than we swim,

i'd face the darkness, lose my way,

for one more look, i'd gladly pay

"i don't understand" theo's voice was only above a whisper, making sure no one could hear you both in the treehouse. it was far too late for both of you anyway.

"what?" you had asked, looking up from the ipod in your hand.

"orpheus, that's his name, right?" the boy brushed his hair back, revealing his forehead. he hadn't gotten a haircut in ages, exclaiming something about girls finding him more attractive that way. you had spontaneously laughed at that prediction, considering you were the only girl he talked to. but the boy was fourteen and suddenly very interested in appealing to the opposite gender.

"what about him don't you understand?" you had the same tone in your voice your mother did when she would explain something to you and your brother.

"well, why does he turn around?" theo shrugged his shoulders, as he turned, facing away from you, to continue to paint doodles on the wall of the tree house. "he could've saved her if he had been stronger, if he had loved her enough he could've made it"

"it's not about that, theo" you had mused "orpheus looked back because he loved her so much, because the only way he could've saved her was if he had loved her less. but he didn't"

"i don't know, pixie" you send him a look upon the name, which he obviously couldn't see, your annoyance bouncing off of the back of his head. "i would be able to save you" his simple statement made the air freeze between the two of you, hitting deeper than it had been meant.

"then you don't love me enough" your voice was only a faint sound, but loud enough to make theo stop in his tracks.

without him noticing the irony of the situation, he turned around to look at you, his blue eyes crashing into yours. the softness in them almost made you shudder, asking yourself if the way you were feeling about him was totally normal. you did not have much experience with boys, but theo was different anyway, he was not like them, he was yours, without any requirements.

"no, i think i do" he whispered back, realizing that the quick act of him turning around had come right after you had simply doubted his love. he knew in that moment that it would never take much for him to turn around for you.

maybe it was the quiet of the night, or teenage hormones mixing up in the air, you weren't really sure later, but theo leaned across the space between you, gently grasping your lips with his, connecting them in a featherlight kiss.

there was no sound in the little room. there were only theo and you. and only your lips were touching.

for you're the melody that guides my soul,

through tempests wild and rivers cold,

i'll brave the depths, defy the night,

to hold your hand in morning light.

so here i stand, before your eyes,

with trembling heart, and no disguise,

to say, my love, in honesty,

i'd turn for your like orpheus for eurydice.

later that night, after the concert was finished and the band was saying their goodbyes, ready to leave the stage, you were waiting for theo behind the stage.

blaise and draco came down first, each of them ruffled your hair, before they walked away to find snacks.

enzo winked at you, holding his hand up for a high-five, which you gladly accepted.

matt plastered both of your cheeks with kisses, laughing deeply as you tried to slap him away.

all of the boys (except for theo of course) had grown to be like your brothers, but enzo and matt stood out the most. enzo was like the little brother you never had, especially because of his relationship with april.

mattheo had been protective of you ever since leo had brought you with him the first time at the age of five. he had looked out for you ever since, often joining forces with leo, when he forbid you from doing something.

even if you sometimes acted annoyed at him, you knew deep down that you needed matt, just as much as you needed your organs to survive. he had been (unlike theo at certain times) a constant in your life, you had never quite managed to get rid of. matt had made it clear to you that he wouldn't leave you alone. both of you were everything that was left of leo for the other.

you could see it in the way matt acted, when he would text you the most random things or when he was lifting you off the ground after he had predicted you would miss the single stair in front of your feet.

and he could see it in your face, as you scrunched your nose when you found something disgusting or when your eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. or sometimes, in the rare moments when his heart ached the most, when you would laugh, and immediately stop, as you both realized how much it sounded like your brother.

it was impossible for either of you to forget leo, if you had still so much left of him.

the cologne was the first thing that entered your nose and just a second after, theo rumbled down the stairs, heavy footsteps echoing over the instruments that were already being played on stage.

he was wearing a white shirt, he had gotten it himself, your name written over his heart with a cursive lilac thread. his hair was messy and a little bit sweaty. you remembered the heat of the stage lights from the night of the concert months ago and your skin burned.

his jeans were dark and loose, you had joked that he needed to wear skinny jeans, because he was in a boyband. you had to search for a picture of harry styles, for him to believe that that used to be a thing.

his face lit up when his eyes fell on you. he pecked your lips, as he threw an arm across your shoulder. another kiss to your hair following.

"my dad messaged me" you said as you walked further behind the stage.

theo perked up at that "will he meet us for dinner?"

"yeah, yeah" you rolled your eyes, uninterested in talking about the boring information. you grinned, as you halted in your step, taking his hand in yours, as you almost jumped up and down from excitement. "we will probaly see a whole lot of him in the future"

theo raised his brows, confused what you were hinting at. your smile grew bigger as you could see the realization set in on his face.

"cadence?" he asked, not quite believing it.

you quickly nodded your head, your excitement resulting in a giggle, as he threw his arms around your body, pulling you close to his chest.

theo had applied to the college months ago. your father had just texted you to tell you that he was in. the mail was only being sent out the coming week and he wanted theo to know. that's also why your father had a lot of connections in the music world and was friends with dave fraser, the guy that had given the guys the record deal. he had worked at the college for the past twenty years, it was a big one, similiar to juilliard, but stationed in england.

while theo would go there, you had applied to many schools close to his (which included, but was not limited to oxford and camebridge). the acceptance letter for camebridge had come last week and the joy on theo's face had been incomparable.

"so it's happening" theo muttered in your ear "we'll both stay"

"i'm going nowhere" you assured, as you intertwined your hands, leading theo back to the tour bus, that would start driving to it's next destination in only a few hours.

"me neither, for now we have seen enough of the world to last us for a few years to come"

"are you joining in?" matt asked when the two of you entered the bus. the rest of the boys were sitting around the table, matt sorting poker chips and enzo's phone was propped up in the middle of the table, april's laughing face on it's screen.

"hey guys!" april smiled.

"hey stranger" you giggled.

"mate, could you please grab the cookies y/n's mum send her?"

"hey, those are for me" you protested.

matt shrugged "well the bus was only for us and i'm still sharing it with you"

you sighed, before you gave theo the okay to get them.

"only two more weeks and you're coming home" april was close to screaming of excitement "it's so boring without you guys. i even began missing blaise"

"hey!" blaise protested, as he grabbed the phone and turned it in his direction, so april was able to see the offended expression on his face.

"yeah, sorry" april muttered "now turn me back"

actually, even if you enjoyed all the special treatment you were receiving on this tour, you couldn't wait to go back home. you couldn't wait for life to be a bit more normal again, even though you were sure that it wouldn't take long before the boys would have their own concerts.

you couldn't wait to watch them grow, but for now, you savored every moment, as long as they still belonged solemnly to you.

"who's gonna start?" mattheo threw the last of the chips down, looking between the rest of you for help.

"i thought you read the rules" draco exclaimed confused.

"well, no" mattheo shook his head "blaise was supposed to"

blaise shook his head repeatedly, claiming to not have been part of mattheo's scheme. the boys began fighting, pointing at each other accusingly.

theo and you exchanged a glance, before you suggested to play a few simple rounds of uno, which everyone agreed on and quickly quieted down.

now everything was finally right and if you could talk to her, you would like to tell your younger self that everything would be alright one day and that she didn't have to be as scared of the future.

a few weeks later, when you were back home, theo helped you pack your things up in your room.

the rest of the tour had gone by in a breeze, and even if all of them decided to concentrate on studying at their respective schools, the band still existed and even dave fraser promised that the career of cursed legacy was far from over. soft death had already been recorded and was coming out in two weeks.

"what's that?" theo asked as he fished a folded piece of paper out of your backpack.

"oh" you furrowed you brows. "i thought i had thrown that away" you shrugged.

"well, what's on it?"

"after i first listened to pixie dream girl, april made me write down my feelings and burn the papers. she was scared that i would do something i would regret" you send him a look.

"okay..but why do you have it if it got burned?" he pressed.

"because i wanted something to remind myself how i felt about all of this"

"am i allowed to read it?" theo asked expectingly "it probably won't be nice"

"i don't care" you shrugged "go on"

theo unfolded the paper, his breath hitching as he read the words you had written. he looked up in surprise and you smiled. "that's—" he mumbled, but couldn't find the right words, surprise and love making it hard to concentrate.

"not mean?" you helped.

theo grinned, before he folded the paper up again and put it in his pocket "i want to keep it"

you smiled and nodded.

and after all this, you stupid stupid boy, you had written that day, you are still the only one my heart wants to know.

you and theo kept your eyes on each other, not one of you daring to look away. you could see every version in him, every stage of his life was readable from his eyes. even that night was readable and you wondered if the was thinking about the same thing you were.

"what was that?" you had asked, your voice raised above the normal whisper.

"what?" theo muttered, feigning innocence. you would've almost believed you had imagined the kiss, but the lipgloss on theo's mouth was telling a different story.

"you kissed me"

"ugh, no?" theo shook his head, crossing his arms defensively.

"ugh, yes?" you outstretched your hand, pointing to his lips. "there, cherry lipgloss"

theo rubbed his mouth in a quick gesture, getting rid of the evidence "where?" he asked, fluttering his eyes.

"right there!" you insisted, fighting back a laugh at his attempt to play it cool.

theo smiled softly, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of fondness and mischief. "okay, fine. maybe i did."

your heart raced as you struggled to find the right words. "why?"

his expression softened, and he reached out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "because... i wanted to."

"okay" you nodded, your voice only above a whisper. "but friends don't—“

"i know" theo had interrupted you. "i'm sorry"

something had shifted between you that night in the tree house, or at least for theo it had. it was like you were the only girl that mattered, like you were the only one that mattered. something about that scared him immensely.

you waited for him to say something. to explain to you what it meant for you, for your friendship. but his eyes were as big as yours and his mind wandered twice as fast. "we are friends" he muttered finally, as if to remind himself.

you nodded, taking it as answer enough.

the years turned faster than the pages of a book, you grew older, stayed inside your rooms when it got dark outside and you and theo never spoke of the night in the treehouse again.

neither of you had known what to say so you rather said nothing.

theo's last words to you that night, replayed themselves over and over again in your mind for the years to follow, even if both of you continued being friends normally.

"i couldn't help it" he had muttered, right after both of you had climbed down the ladder and were ready to go your separate ways.

you smiled at his honesty, as you held back a giggle. you couldn't see his face in the dark, the candle in the lantern you had brought with you had burned down completely, but you had a feeling that he felt the same mix of awkwardness and simple happiness you did.

"will you do that again?" you asked, feeling brave now that he was unable to see your face in the darkness.

air escaped from his nostrils, as he stifled a laugh at your question. "i'm not sure" he said.

"okay"

the air between you was quiet and still and you turned around before you softly walked the path between both of your houses in the direction of the balcony you had climbed down a few hours ago.

the sound of his voice had you stop in your tracks.

"but if it some day comes over me, and maybe it will.." he paused, seemingly searching for the right words.

you listened to him attentively, as your heart fluttered at his implication. it was like you could almost see the colour of his eyes, even if he was standing a few meters across from you, his body standing out against the light of the lantern down the street.

he was standing, his body facing in your direction and simply knowing that he was looking at you made your tummy churn. was this what friendship was supposed to be? or was it something different? was this love? did love really feel like that or where you going crazy?

theo cleared his throat, as he raised his voice so you could hear him clearly over the distance between you "just... don't blame me"

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