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#he would never have taken that offer guys
tsuyoiqueen · 2 days
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Peaceful Property EP 6 Analysis: Why Didn't Peach Take The Money
Alright, I've seen a lot of criticism towards Peach's decision not to take the money offered by Home's family lawyer to buy his silence and do damage control after the footage of the accident got leaked. Now, I'm all about bashing GMMTV for their mistreatment of TayNew and other actors under their label, as well as for their lazy storylines and plot holes on the final episodes of their shows, but for once I don't think you guys are seeing the whole picture. Yes, GMMTV is notoriously bad at depicting poor characters, but Peach's decision is not out of pocket. It's actually very characteristic of him and the progression of his friendship with Home.
Hear me out: First, in the beginning of the series, we see Peach and Home fight about money many times – From Home accusing Peach of trying to sabotage his Real State business by faking a paranormal event in Best's house for the sake of going viral to Home later on trying to hire Peach to exorcise said properties even though they'd just met.
Peach sees Home as a spoiled, privileged rich kid who was raised to believe money could buy anything. This conflict is explicitly shown on Episode 2, during Rak's exorcism when Home repeatedly attempts to buy his way out of a bad situation and Peach confronts him about it. First, when Home makes fun of Peach's attempt at making Rak a sandwich based on the manager's instructions and questions his abilities, then buys a feast for the ghost after Peach quits the job, arguing that she must've refused to pass on because the food wasn't to her liking. The second time it happened it's a more pronounced attempt, with Home slapping a pile of cash on the table during the commotion and Peach becoming outraged at it.
But this conflict is brought to light again, on Episode 3, when Peach and PangPang sign the ghost-hunting contract and Kan tells them they've essentially sold their souls to Home in exchange for a paycheck, as they need to heed all of his orders from now, which Home takes full advantage of right away. Now, PangPang is fine with the deal – as she's been since the start. She was the one who got Peach to agree to the exorcisms in the first place and it was her idea to go to Home and ask if he could lend them one of his properties. As long as there's something good coming out of it, she doesn't mind. Peach, however, is reluctant to agree to Home's unreasonable requests but eventually caves in and swallows his pride.
Yet, on Episode 5, we see him once again stand his ground. It doesn't matter that Home will cut his paycheck, he refuses to go back into the restaurant where his former mentor passed away (seemingly by his fault). Home has to push him to the brink, remind Peach of his current living situation – He has no place to stay in, he's sleeping under Home's roof – and consequently hurt him to convince him.
But by the end of Episode 5, Peach knows Home never cared about the money or intended to demolish the restaurant to build a 50 million baht condo out of it. Home confesses to Peach that he only acted the way he did because he knew Peach wouldn't have come otherwise and he really wanted to help Peach overcome his fear. So when Episode 6 rolls around, money is no longer a point of conflict in their friendship, right? Wrong.
Money (as well as influence) is the reason why Home is able to make Peach's dream come true in a heartbeat, after barely a day of knowing about it. He does it in grand style, in a palace, with cameras broadcasting it live and even getting Peach a do-over with Chai-Un as a bonus. But Peach doesn't feel like he owes Home, like he has to bend to his will, anymore because he knows where they stand now: they're family and family looks out for each other. Peach knows Home went through all this effort to make him happy and he rewards Home with his full trust. First, by leaving him on charge of the trickiest part of the dish that could ruin his career all over again. And second, by showing his gratitude and considering Home part of his and PangPang's family (They're the parents and Pang's the baby, as said by her).
So, he asks about Home's dream and when he realizes it's something that he can give him, Peach doesn't hesitate to do so. Home, who's grown up in a mansion, never had to fry an egg or find a job to survive, simply craves the love and comfort of a family and Peach welcomes him wholly.
So, then I ask you, why would Peach refuse the money Home's family lawyer offered him and give back what he got from the exorcisms? Well, the moment Peach found out (or rather assumed) that Home had been lying to him all this time, their friendship left a sour taste in his mouth. What Peach was led to believe Home had done out of care had turned out to be just an attempt at relieving himself of the guilt of the hit-and-run situation. Peach could be thinking Home sought him out on purpose with ulterior motives from the start, that it was all a game to him.
That only escalates once Home's family lawyer, and not Home himself, walks in with yet another contract for him to sign and an order of eviction. That is what puts up a wall between Home and Peach again and reminds Peach of their class disparities: he is poor and Home is rich. Three years ago, Home hit him with his yellow sports car while Peach was on his way home from work. Home's family took care of everything, bribed the police and buried the evidence while Peach was left with pain, guilt and trauma. Home was sent abroad to lay low while Peach lost his mentor (and mother figure), his job and his self-confidence. They couldn't be more worlds apart than they are.
One of Peach's fatal flaws is his pride. He doesn't care if he's going to have to go back to the "rat hole" he came from. He doesn't care if he's losing the chance of living a comfortable life. Peach went his whole life without generational wealth, he can continue to do so now.
So of course, not only doesn't he take the money but he goes even further and intends to give back all that he got from Home's family. Peach wants to be far way from Home and that includes his money. He doesn't care about being reasonable right now, he's just protecting himself.
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K!nktober day 4
Followin @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day four: food play; biting/marks; drunk sex (they were all too good to not make a story with all of them). You can find all my stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!
(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)
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Simon Riley x reader
(Husband! Simon)
cw: Simon is obsessed with his wife (as he should), oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected piv, creampie
word count: 2628
a/n: this is my longest one yet, but trust me, it's WORTH IT
No one would've ever pinned Lieutenant Simon Riley for a romantic, not even you when you had first met him, really, yet you couldn't deny that your husband was full of surprises. The day you said "I do" at the altar, you didn't just get married to Simon, but to his job, too. And now, said job was the culprit behind your delayed honeymoon.
A dangerous mission had taken Task Force 141 somewhere in South America for two whole months, eight weeks in which you had barely received any updates from your husband from burner phones that made him sound like he was talking through a brick. Still, Simon never thought he would be grateful for a near-death experience, but apparently there's always a first time for everything. The mission had taken place in Costa Rica and, even though he was sent to the nasty part of it, he had been able to catch a glimpse of the crystal clear water, beautiful beaches, and the opportunities that the country had to offer to civilian tourists.
As soon as he came home to you, he had bought two plane tickets, but since his trip-planning skills were fairly limited, he hoped to make it up to you by booking the honeymoon suite at the fanciest all-inclusive resort he could find; also, he couldn't risk having you seeing the same atrocities he had while on mission.
Simon wasn't exactly the most tactful guy, so he didn't really provide any explanation when he tossed onto the bed the envelope with the two tickets inside, just a gruff "we're leaving in two days" and then he was out of the bedroom, leaving your confused, half-asleep form babbling like a fish out of the water.
You never pinned your husband for a romantic, but you couldn't have been any happier when, as you walked down the hotel's hallway to your suite, he picked you up bridal style, his heart melting at the sound of your sweet giggles, your arms wrapped around his neck as he carried you over the threshold of your room. Lucious, spacious, opening onto a small living room, an arched entryway led to the bedroom - and you wondered just how many people could fit in that gigantic bed - which was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, a wooden balcony extending outside, with an opening onto your very own personal pool, and the ocean right next to it. There was also a bathtub in the bedroom, and your heart clenched with sympathy for the cleaning ladies, what they had to see- and definitely what they would see after your stay.
The staff had left a fruit basket on the bed, a little note that you were now cradling between your fingers where they expressed their gratitude for choosing their establishment and wished their best to your marriage, and a bottle of expensive champagne. "How about we wait tonight to celebrate?" Simon asked, his voice a low purr next to your ear as he encircled your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "How about you put on one of those sexy bikinis you packed and we go enjoy the free bar, hm?" You didn't have to be told twice before eagerly agreeing, "free bar" was possibly your favourite combination of words in the English language.
You decided on a plain black bikini, with two small golden chains that ran along the underside of your breasts, and a small golden pendant that hung off the side of your bikini bottoms. Simon was wearing matching black swimming trunks, his sculpted chest carrying battle scars, tattoos lining his left forearm, ink-stained skin that you ran your fingers on countless times, memorising every line and curve. You loved Simon's body, just like every other part of him, but sometimes you forgot that he didn't exactly look like a civilian, with his crooked nose and the silver scar cutting over his bottom lip. He didn't care about the dirty side-eyed glances he received from the people that crowded the beach; as long as he had those big eyes of yours looking up at him with love, like he hung the moon and the stars, he was happy.
"How much did you pay for the whole thing anyway?" You asked, sipping on your second - perhaps third - margarita, sitting at one of the high stools that surrounded the beach bar, your feet dipped in the water. "Eh, don't even remember," Simon lied. "But I had been saving a small sum on the side for our honeymoon." Your lips curled up in a warm smile, eyes twinkling and filled with love, even as you watched your 6'4", 250+lbs husband sip on some pink fruity cocktail.
The sun was setting, so you decided to head back to your suite to get ready for dinner. How you were going to achieve that was still unclear, since you were both fairly tipsy, your arm secured around his as you couldn't stop giggling. The moment the door closed behind you, Simon picked you up effortlessly, a small squeak leaving your mouth as the room started spinning around you. "Simon, we should-" your thought was interrupted by Simon's lips, catching yours into a scorching kiss, tongue impatiently running along your bottom lip, seeking entrance, which you immediately granted, letting him delve deeper, coaxing a moan.
A growl rumbled in his chest, fingers digging in the supple flesh of your ass, pressing you against his chest impossibly closer. "Fuck the dinner," he whispered against your lips, his breath still carrying the liquor. "I need my wife." Before you could realise what was happening, your back hit the mattress, and soon Simon's weight followed as he settled himself between your thighs, caging you to the bed with two large hands on either side of your head. "And since the hotel staff was so kind..." he reached for one of the strawberries that laid in the fruit basket. "I have everything I need right here. A tasty meal," - he ran the strawberry down to the valley of your breasts, making you gasp - "and dessert." He said, sporting a cocky smirk as he brought the strawberry to his lips and bit into it.
He placed the unbitten part of the fruit between his lips, now tinted a faintly darker shade of pink, and he lowered his head. You met him halfway, snatching the strawberry with your own teeth before letting yourself fall back against the pillows. Simon watched you eat, brown irises almost eclipsed by his pupils, dilated by lust and the desire to fuck you stupid, the alcohol making his fingers itch to touch you even more. "What?" You asked, amused. He shook his head. "Just thinking about the ways I'm going to ruin you, my love." He whispered, running a hand over your bikini top, catching the small golden chain with his index finger, making you shudder with anticipation.
You never stopped being his good girl, so pliant under his touch as he undid the knots of your bikini top, discarding it onto the floor, and moved to remove your bottoms, so you lifted your hips to help him slide them down your legs. The both of you were still a little hazy, drunken giggles mixing with your breathy gasps, every touch of his fingers making your skin come alive with goosebumps. Simon took a moment to lean back and admire your naked form, the dips and curves he's memorised through the ears with every part of his body. He reached for the basket again. "Now I need you to stay still, love." He ordered with a purr, fetching some grapes, placing them in a neat line from your collarbone to your lower abdomen.
You kept your head and neck movements to a minimum, your eyes carefully following the way his fingers placed the little green grapes with care across your bare skin. A small chuckle made your chest stutter with mirth, causing one of the fruits to fall onto the mattress. Simon's eyes darkened in warning. "I said don't move, love. Or I'll have to punish you." Your eyes widened at the quietly-spoken threat, lips pressed together to suppress any unwanted sound or twitch of your body. When everything was in place, Simon slowly started to eat the grapes, lips closing around it and leaving a wet, warm mark on your body.
Once he'd caught the one that laid between your breasts, your chest suddenly caved as he proceeded to pepper the sensitive, supple flesh with more kisses, lips closing in on one of your erect nipples, making you hiss in pleasure. "Simon-" you called out with a moan. "Don't. Move." He growled, giving your other nipple a gentle pinch with his teeth, coaxing a whimper. As he continued his path down your torso, you couldn't help the giggle that involuntarily slipped past your lips when he caught the grape he'd placed on your navel, the swipe of his tongue tickling you. His large hands secured around your spread thighs, he gave them a punitive, bruising squeeze. "S- Sorry!" You squeaked meekly, earning a displeased hum from him as he chewed.
Finally, he reached the last one, and you almost bucked your hips upwards, body sizzling with anticipation. "Patience, my love," he whispered, hot breath fanning across your hooded clit as he swallowed the final grape. "Fuck..." you mewled, back arching away from the bed when he pressed his tongue flat onto your drenched slit, lapping up the arousal that had collected between your folds. He moaned, the vibration he sent against your pussy making you see stars. The alcohol in your system made you even more sensitive, your hole weeping with juices that leaked onto Simon's face, covering his lips and chin with a glistening coat.
"You taste so good, my love...fuck," he murmured, peppering your puffy lips with kisses. "So wet already, I can't wait to stretch that tiny hole with my cock." His words made you shudder, an incoherent babble leaving your mouth. "Hm? What was that, lovie?" He prompted, a wolfish grin on his face as he looked up at you through hooded eyes and bushy blonde brows. "Need...cock..." You managed to utter, hands fisting the pristine sheets as he kept his assault onto your sensitive cunt.
"Such a desperate little girl, you." He chuckled, circling your needy hole with the tip of his finger. "I know that you turn naughty after a few drinks but Jesus, baby, you're filthy tonight." His dirty talk made you chase his teasing finger with your hips, and he cooed, finally obliging to your silent plea and pushing his fore and middle finger into your needy entrance. You gasped, eyes wide open before you squeezed them shut again, He kept sucking onto your swollen and sensitive clit as he scissored against your gummy walls, stretching you out to accommodate him later. You were a squirming, moaning mess, leaking onto the bed sheets, leaving wet splotches, as you felt the heat coil in your stomach, bringing you closer to the edge.
"Simon...'m gonna..." A frustrated cry followed, as Simon withdrew his fingers and pulled away, making you prop yourself up on your elbows, brows furrowed in a scowl as he got up from the bed. "What the f-" you were silenced when he shoved his cock past your lips with one long thrust, balls hitting your chin as he buried himself in your throat. "That's it," he praised. "Good girl, take it all in that pretty mouth of yours." Hand fisting your hair in a makeshift ponytail, Simon fucked your face with deliberate thrusts, making sure you would coat the whole length of his shaft with your saliva. He grunted your name, chest heaving with ragged breaths, and he had to stop before he accidentally came in your mouth; he was more sensitive when he was drunk, but he wanted to enjoy the night to its fullest
Your lips made a soft 'pop' when Simon unsheathed himself, a string of drool still connecting your tongue to the tip of his cock. You looked up at your husband, doe-eyed, as he caught his breath. "Good girl, y/n, look at this," he held his member with one large hand. "Can't wait to fuck you stupid, love." A giddy grin grew on your lips, and you settled back onto the bed, eagerly waiting for him, but you saw him move away instead. "Si-"
"Easy, love, I'm just putting these in a safer location." He reassured you, a hint of amusement in his voice as he placed the fruit basket and the bottle of champagne onto the desk. "Though I like seeing you like this, so desperate for my cock." You merely suppressed a pathetic whimper, cheeks glowing red at his filthy words. He made his way back, putting one knee after the other, mattress dipping under his weight as he ventured one again between your thighs. "Sorry for the delay, my love," he whispered, lips skimming the sensitive side of your throat. "But I wanted our honeymoon to be perfect, to make sure I could show you exactly how I'll treat you for the rest of our lives."
His teeth sank into the thin flesh, just as his tip entered your weeping hole, your breath taken away inch after inch. Simon growled, biting down harder until he kissed your cervix, fully buried inside you. "Oh fuck, Simon-" you hissed at the delicious ache caused by the stretch, the heels of your feet pressing down on his ass to somehow get him even deeper. "What a greedy little thing you are, y/n," he murmured, chasing away the sting of his bite, running a flat tongue over the deep red mark. "Already full of my cock yet you want more, hm? We'll see about that."
You weren't sure if sex could get you drunk, but it surely looked like you were drunk off your husband's relentless fucking, his merciless thrusts making your pussy release the the filthiest squelching sounds, his lower abdomen covered in your squirt, the room filled with your voiced pleasure as he held you in a mating press, knees bent at your ears. Simon had his hands secured on the back of your legs, hips angled so he could drive his hungry dick as deep inside you as possible, a proud smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes roll back into your skull, your neck and breasts covered in red and purple-ish marks. He wasn't exactly thinking about the fact that you would have to walk around practically half naked for the next two weeks; clearly, it wasn't really one of his concerns right now.
"Simon," you called out, your hands curling around his forearms, neatly manicured nails sinking into his skin. "Please, please, please, 'm gonna cum...please!" Simon welcomed your plea, keeping the exact same pace that was driving you over the edge, and felt your gummy walls clenching his length almost painfully as the orgasm wrecked through you, making you scream out his name. Your muscles were squeezing him so tight Simon couldn't really hold on much longer, his own orgasm finding release deep inside your warm cunt, the spasms of your womb drinking his cum greedily as he grunted your name.
Silence fell once you had both rode out your high, a low, pleased hum leaving his lips as he unsheathed himself, consequently collapsing onto the bed next to you. You were both sweaty and spent, yet too tired to get up to wash yourselves. "Simon?" You called out softly after a couple of silent minutes. "Hm?" He replied lazily. "Are we going to spend every day like this?" You asked. "Oh, for sure." He chuckled, snaking a hand around your waist to bring you into his chest, nuzzling his nose in your hair. You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. "Good."
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•This is an original work of fiction, please do not copy, translate and/or share on this on another platform without credit•
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Old Flames, New Wounds (Kinktober 2024: Day 4)
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SUMMARY: Years after a bitter breakup, you find yourself face-to-face with Jake “Hangman” Seresin at The Hard Deck, reigniting all the anger and unresolved feelings you'd buried.
PROMPT: "I could help you feel better."
KINK: Hate Sex
WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT. (P in V sex)
WORD COUNT: 4.9k
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The last thing you ever told Jake Seresin was that you hated him. And you meant it.
That smug, cocky pilot had taken what little spark your short-lived relationship had and snuffed it out with his dismissive attitude. He called you “too much,” oversharing, saying you revealed more about yourself than a “new girlfriend” should. The accusation still stung every time you thought about it, as if wanting to connect was a crime in his world. You, in turn, made it clear that he was nothing more than a flirt—a man who couldn’t resist checking out other women right in front of you, even on dates. You told him off, and before he could toss another patronizing smirk your way, you let him have it, “I hate you, and I hope I never have to see your stupid face again.”
And for years, you didn’t.
That is, until tonight.
You were settled at The Hard Deck, your favorite spot at the bar, engrossed in the latest thriller you’d picked up, occasionally chatting with Penny between chapters. It was a quiet evening. The salty sea air was soothing, and the bar’s familiar warmth offered a welcome break from the world outside. At least, it was peaceful, until you heard that voice.
That same, infuriating drawl you’d spent years trying to forget. Your stomach dropped as you turned in your barstool and saw him. Sure enough, there was Jake “Hangman” Seresin, laughing it up and playing darts with his buddies like he hadn’t left a trail of bitterness in his wake.
You turned back around, pulling your book closer, determined to avoid him. You had no interest in rekindling any form of conversation with him, let alone acknowledging his presence. But of course, you weren’t that lucky.
You could feel his eyes on you before you heard his footsteps. When Penny rang the bell after an older guy made a fool of himself, Jake approached the bar to order another round. His gaze zeroed in on you, like a predator stalking its prey.
“Well, well, well,” came that smooth, too-familiar voice. “If it isn’t the woman who swore she never wanted to see my face again.”
You clenched your jaw, your eyes narrowing as you met his smug grin. “And I meant it,” you muttered under your breath, trying to focus on your book.
Jake chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Still sticking with that story, huh? You sure you're not just a little happy to see me? Admit it—missed this face just a bit.”
You scoffed, setting your book down and looking at him, deadpan. “I’m serious, Seresin. Seeing your face again is like getting hit by a truck I didn’t see coming.”
Jake smirked, leaning against the bar with casual arrogance. “Aw, c’mon, sweetheart. That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”
Your blood boiled at the way he called you "sweetheart." He hadn’t earned the right to use nicknames, not after what had gone down between you two.
“What’s harsh,” you shot back, “is the fact that you’re still under the impression I care about anything you have to say.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “That a challenge?”
Before you could snap back, Penny interrupted, sliding him his drinks and giving you a look that said Don’t let him get under your skin. You took a breath, trying to calm the fire building inside you. But Jake wasn’t done.
“Still got that attitude I see. No wonder things didn’t work out between us,” he teased, his voice just loud enough for some of the others to overhear.
Your patience snapped. “You’re right, Seresin. It didn’t work out because you couldn’t go five minutes without checking out some random woman while we were out. I guess commitment wasn’t your strong suit.”
The mood around the bar shifted as people started to pick up on the personal nature of your jabs. Rooster, sitting nearby, exchanged glances with Coyote, and even Penny gave Jake a warning look.
But Jake, being Jake, didn’t back down.
“Funny,” he mused, “I don’t remember you being the poster child for a great girlfriend either. A little too eager to unload all your baggage on date number two.”
That stung. Hard. The words hit you like a slap to the face, and for a moment, you were speechless. But the hurt quickly morphed into anger.
“At least I wasn’t a shallow, self-absorbed asshole who could barely hold a conversation unless it was about himself,” you shot back, your voice sharper now.
Jake's smirk faltered, and for a moment, something more than cocky amusement flickered in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that infuriating grin once again.
Before things could escalate further, Phoenix stepped in, laying a hand on Jake’s shoulder.
“Cool it, Hangman,” she said, her tone firm. “We’re here to have a good time, not start a bar fight.”
You crossed your arms, glaring at Jake, who simply shrugged, looking like he was enjoying every second of getting under your skin. “No fight here. Just some honest conversation between two... old friends.”
“Yeah, old friends,” you muttered bitterly, grabbing your book again, though your mind was far from the words on the page. The tension lingered, thick in the air, as Jake gave you one last glance before heading back to his game of darts.
But you knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
You tried to focus on your book, but the words blurred on the page, your mind still spinning from the last encounter with Jake. How could he waltz back into your life like nothing had happened, that same irritating smirk plastered on his face? The memory of his smug tone and condescending remarks gnawed at you, making it impossible to concentrate.
You took a sip of your drink, trying to shake it off, but his voice and presence lingered in the back of your mind. It didn’t help that every so often you could hear his laugh—loud and obnoxious—coming from across the room as he played darts with his friends. You gritted your teeth and forced yourself to keep reading, anything to ignore him.
For a while, it worked. He left you alone, and you tried to convince yourself that he wasn’t worth the space in your head. The bar around you carried on as usual, people laughing, talking, music playing. But peace was short-lived.
About half an hour later, you heard him again, this time back at the bar. He was ordering another round for the guys, and you kept your head down, praying he wouldn’t notice you. You didn’t want to deal with him again, not after the way the last conversation went.
Just as you turned the page of your book, you heard a giggle next to you. A girl, clearly tipsy, leaned over the bar, swaying a little as she tried to catch her balance.
“Oh my god,” she slurred, her eyes wide as she whispered to her friend. “That guy... he’s been looking at me all night. He’s so cute.”
Curious, you glanced up and followed her gaze, and sure enough, it was Jake. He was standing at the end of the bar, waiting for his drinks, casually leaning against the counter as his eyes swept over the room—apparently landing on the girl next to you.
Your stomach twisted with irritation. Of course, Jake was back to his old tricks.
The girl’s friend giggled back, but you couldn’t help yourself. Before you could think it through, the words slipped out.
“Trust me,” you muttered under your breath, just loud enough for the girl to hear, “he’s not the kind of guy you want to go home with.”
The tipsy girl blinked at you in confusion, her smile faltering slightly. “What do you mean?”
You leaned in slightly, your voice low. “I mean, he’s a flirt. He’ll sweet talk you, charm you, but once you’re hooked, he loses interest. He’s not worth the trouble.”
Unfortunately, you underestimated how close Jake was. He clearly overheard you because the next thing you knew, he was standing right behind you, his voice dripping with faux innocence. “Oh really?” he drawled. “That what you think of me?”
You turned in your stool, and there he was—his green eyes glinting with amusement, that same cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Of course, he’d heard you.
“You’re eavesdropping now?” you shot back, refusing to let him intimidate you.
Jake raised an eyebrow, pretending to be hurt. “Just happened to catch a warning about myself. Thought I’d see if you still felt the same way after all this time.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Still hate me, sweetheart?”
You crossed your arms, glaring up at him. “That hasn’t changed, Seresin.”
The girl next to you, sensing the tension, awkwardly shuffled away, leaving you and Jake alone at the bar. He took her place, casually leaning against the counter again, his smirk never wavering.
“Funny,” he mused, “I don’t remember doing anything that terrible to deserve all this hate.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “That’s because you’re too self-absorbed to notice.”
Jake tilted his head, a faux-thoughtful expression on his face. “Self-absorbed, huh? Are you sure you weren’t just a little too sensitive back then? Maybe reading into things that weren’t there?”
You could feel the heat rising in your chest, his words poking at an old wound. He was doing it again—dismissing your feelings like they didn’t matter. “Sensitive?” you repeated, your voice sharp. “No, Jake. I wasn’t being sensitive. You were a walking red flag. You couldn’t even keep your eyes on me during a date without checking out every other woman in the room.”
He chuckled, not taking you seriously. “Come on, you’re exaggerating. I was just being... friendly.”
“Friendly?” you shot back, incredulous. “You were flirting with other women while we were out together. Hell, you probably flirted with the waitress the night you broke up with me.”
Jake’s smirk wavered for a split second, but he quickly recovered. “Oh please,” he muttered, his voice low, “You’re acting like I was the worst thing that ever happened to you.”
“Well,” you said, your eyes narrowing, “you weren’t exactly the best.”
Jake’s playful grin faltered for real this time. Something in your words hit a nerve, and you could see the flicker of irritation in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Penny stepped in again, sliding a drink in front of him.
“That’s enough, both of you,” she said sternly, giving you both a look. “This is a bar, not a battlefield.”
Jake took the drink from her, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped back. “We’re just having a conversation, Penny,” he said, his voice deceptively calm.
Penny wasn’t buying it. “Sure. But keep it civil, alright?”
Jake nodded, but there was still that glint in his eye. He downed his drink in one swift motion before setting the glass back on the bar. “Well, I’ll leave you to your... reading,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. “But don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll still be around if you decide you need a little reminder of what you’re missing.”
You clenched your fists, biting back the retort that was on the tip of your tongue as he sauntered away, that damn smirk back on his face. You hated how he could get under your skin so easily, how he made you feel like the years hadn’t changed a thing between the two of you.
The bar had thinned out as the night wore on. Most of the pilots had already left, and only a handful remained—unfortunately, Jake was one of them. You were doing your best to ignore him, nursing your drink and pretending he didn’t exist. As long as he stayed on his side of the bar and you stayed on yours, everything would be fine.
After a trip to the bathroom, you came out into the dimly lit hallway, wiping your hands on your jeans. That’s when you saw him—the guy who had been hovering around you all night. He’d tried talking to you earlier, hitting on you with a few drinks in hand, but each time you politely turned him down. You weren’t interested, and you’d made that clear.
But now, in the narrow hallway, there was no way to escape him.
You felt your chest tighten as he stepped closer, his eyes glinting with something darker than the casual flirting from earlier.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and slurred, “you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder all night. You don’t have to play hard to get.”
He moved in, his breath heavy with alcohol, his hand reaching out to touch your arm. You recoiled, pressing your back against the wall, but there was nowhere to go. Panic surged through you as he pinned you there, his body looming over yours. You wanted to scream, to fight, but your body was frozen, your mind struggling to process what was happening.
His grip tightened on your arm, and you felt the walls closing in. You opened your mouth to shout, but no sound came out. Fear had swallowed your voice, leaving you powerless.
Just then, the men's bathroom door swung open with a creak, and you turned your head, desperately searching for help. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him—Jake Seresin. Of all the people who could have walked out in that moment, it had to be him.
He caught your eyes instantly, and something in your expression must have set him off because his face shifted in an instant—from his usual cocky smirk to a look of deadly seriousness.
Without a second’s hesitation, Jake crossed the hallway, his eyes locked on the man pinning you against the wall.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jake’s voice was ice-cold as he grabbed the guy by the shoulder and yanked him off you with surprising force.
The man stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden intrusion. “Hey, man, back off. This one's taken,” the guy slurred, trying to square up to Jake, but Jake wasn’t having any of it.
“She said no,” Jake growled, stepping between you and the drunk. “So I suggest you take the hint before this gets ugly.”
The guy laughed, clearly not understanding the danger he was in. “What, you her boyfriend or something?”
Jake didn’t miss a beat. He stepped forward, his chest puffed out, radiating that cocky, intimidating confidence you had always hated but were suddenly thankful for.
“Yeah, I am,” Jake said, his voice calm but lethal. “And I don’t take kindly to assholes like you thinking they can put their hands on her.”
You blinked in surprise, your heart still racing, but Jake’s presence was grounding, pulling you out of the fog of fear. He slid into the role of your protective boyfriend so seamlessly, like it was second nature. And for once, you weren’t going to argue with it.
The guy looked between you and Jake, finally realizing he was outmatched. Jake towered over him, his jaw clenched tight, and for a moment, you thought the guy might try something, but then he backed down. He mumbled something under his breath and turned to leave, but not before Jake grabbed him by the back of his shirt and shoved him toward the door.
“Get out,” Jake ordered, his voice low and dangerous. “Before I make sure you never step foot in this bar again.”
The guy stumbled out, muttering curses under his breath, and with a final glare at Jake, he disappeared into the night. You stood there, still pressed against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest.
Jake turned to you, his expression softening now that the threat was gone.
“You alright?” he asked, his voice gentler than you expected.
You nodded, though you were still trying to catch your breath. “I—I think so. I just… froze.”
Jake’s eyes softened, a hint of concern flashing through his usual bravado. “Hey,” he said, stepping closer, his tone low and reassuring. “That guy was a creep. None of this is on you.”
You managed a weak smile, grateful for the fact that he didn’t push for more details, didn’t make you feel small for freezing in that moment. Jake Seresin, of all people, had been the one to step in when you needed it most, and it was throwing you for a loop.
As if sensing the shift, Jake tilted his head, his smirk returning just slightly.
“So,” he said, a glint of playfulness back in his eyes, “still hate my guts, or am I back in your good graces for the night?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, despite everything. “You’re still an ass, Seresin,” you muttered, but there was no real heat behind the words.
He chuckled, leaning against the wall beside you. “Fair enough,” he said, looking a little too pleased with himself. “But for tonight, I’ll take being your ass over letting that guy get away with anything.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was a part of you—however small—that was thankful for him tonight.
As the night began to wind down at The Hard Deck, the bar had mostly emptied out, leaving just a few stragglers nursing their last drinks. You were still on edge from the earlier incident, even though you tried to push it to the back of your mind. You told yourself you were fine, but the knot of anxiety in your stomach said otherwise. Jake had gone back to his friends after the confrontation, but every now and then, you caught him glancing your way, keeping an eye on you.
You finished your drink and set the glass down with a quiet clink, deciding it was time to head out. As you stood from your stool, you felt Jake’s eyes on you again. He was still with the last few pilots who hadn’t called it a night yet, but you could tell he was paying more attention to you than to them. You waved Penny a quick goodbye, thanking her for the company, and made your way toward the exit.
Just as you reached the door, Jake caught up with you.
“You heading out?” he asked casually, but there was an edge of concern in his voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, trying to brush it off. “Just gonna get home before it gets any later.”
Jake glanced around, then looked back at you, his expression unreadable. “Let me walk you to your car.”
You hesitated, feeling that familiar mix of annoyance and gratitude at his sudden protectiveness. “Jake, I’m fine. It’s not far—”
“I know,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not pushy. “But I don’t want to take any chances. You’re still a little shaken up, and I don’t trust that guy from earlier.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but something in his eyes stopped you. He wasn’t being smug or cocky—this was different. He was genuinely concerned. Reluctantly, you nodded, letting him follow you outside.
As soon as you stepped into the parking lot, you spotted him—the guy who had cornered you earlier. He was lingering near the far end of the lot, leaning against a beat-up car and lighting a cigarette. Your heart skipped a beat, and your body went tense as you instinctively took a step back.
Jake immediately noticed your reaction and followed your gaze, his expression darkening when he saw the guy. Without missing a beat, he stepped in front of you, shielding you from the man’s view.
“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Jake muttered under his breath. He turned to you, his jaw set. “You’re not driving home tonight. I’m taking you back to my place, and we’ll come get your car in the morning.”
You blinked, surprised by his sudden decisiveness. “Jake, that’s not necessary, I—”
“It is necessary,” he interrupted, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I’m not letting you drive home with that asshole lurking around. What if he follows you?”
Your heart raced at the thought, and despite your instinct to argue, you knew he was right. The guy hadn’t exactly backed down earlier, and who knew what he was capable of, especially after a few more drinks. You sighed, your frustration ebbing as you realized Jake was just trying to keep you safe.
“Fine,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “But only because I don’t want to deal with him.”
Jake smirked, though the usual cockiness was tempered with something softer, more serious. “Good. Let’s go.”
He led you to his truck, unlocking the door and waiting for you to climb in before he got behind the wheel. As he drove, the hum of the engine and the quiet of the night settled between you. For once, Jake wasn’t talking or cracking jokes. He kept his focus on the road, glancing over at you occasionally, making sure you were okay.
The ride to his place was quicker than you expected. When you pulled up outside his apartment, Jake turned off the engine and gave you a soft look.
“I’ll grab you something to wear,” he said, opening his door.
You followed him inside, feeling a little out of place. His apartment was surprisingly neat for someone you used to consider a mess of a person. Jake disappeared into his bedroom for a moment, then returned with a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.
“Here,” he said, handing them to you. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Make yourself comfortable.”
You took the clothes and nodded, retreating to the bathroom to change. Once you were in his clothes, you felt a little more at ease, the comfort of the soft fabric and the faint scent of his cologne oddly soothing. When you returned to the living room, Jake was already setting up the couch for himself.
“You can take my bed,” he offered, tossing a pillow onto the couch. “I’ll crash out here.”
You shook your head, feeling a twinge of guilt. “No, Jake, you don’t have to—”
“Not gonna argue,” he said with a grin. “Bed’s yours for the night.”
But before you could protest further, a strange feeling settled over you—one of safety, of knowing Jake wasn’t going to let anything happen to you tonight. And despite everything, despite how much history lay between the two of you, you found yourself unwilling to sleep without him next to you.
“Jake,” you said softly, your voice almost catching in your throat, “can you just… stay with me?”
He paused, clearly surprised by your request, but the seriousness of your tone seemed to strike a chord with him. He nodded slowly, tossing the pillow back onto the bed.
“Alright,” he said quietly. “I’ll stay.”
You both settled into his bed, the tension from earlier fading into something softer. As you lay beside him, the weight of the night began to lift, and for the first time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could trust him to look out for you.
As you and Jake lay side by side in the dark, the tension that had built up throughout the night refused to dissipate completely. The silence between you felt heavy, and though you’d initially felt a strange comfort in his presence, the weight of old wounds still lingered beneath the surface.
Jake shifted beside you, his usual cocky demeanor slipping back into place as if he couldn’t help himself.
“You know,” he said, his voice breaking the quiet, “you’ve really got to loosen up.”
You blinked, staring up at the ceiling, not quite believing he was starting this now. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, come on,” Jake replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. “You’re always so wound up. It’s like you can’t let go for even a second. What’s the matter? Been a while since anyone helped you relax?”
You clenched your fists beneath the covers, anger flaring inside you. “Excuse me?”
Jake shrugged, seemingly oblivious to how close you were to snapping. “I’m just saying, when’s the last time you got laid?”
You turned your head to face him, your eyes narrowing in the darkness. “That’s none of your business, Jake,” you said, your voice low but biting.
He raised an eyebrow, not backing down. “Oh, come on, it was a joke.”
But it didn’t feel like a joke. The frustration of the past two years, the unresolved anger and tension between the two of you—it all bubbled to the surface. 
Before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out, quieter than you’d intended, but they carried the weight of a confession you hadn’t wanted to make. “The last time I was with someone was you.”
Jake went still beside you, the cocky smirk falling from his face. For a moment, he said nothing, clearly not expecting that. The air between you grew thick with the sudden shift in mood, the flippant nature of the conversation disappearing.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he finally muttered, his voice low and disbelieving.
You shook your head, looking away from him. “Why would I joke about that?”
Jake chuckled and said more to himself than you, “That explains so much. I could help you feel better, you know?”
The silence that followed was almost unbearable, the tension in the room intensifying. Jake shifted again, this time turning toward you, his eyes searching your face in the dim light.
“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I didn’t—” he started, but whatever he was about to say was lost as his gaze locked onto yours, something unspoken passing between you. 
The anger, the resentment, the desire—it all came to a head, and before you knew what was happening, you were reaching for him, your lips crashing into his.
The kiss was messy, heated, full of everything you’d both been holding back for far too long. It was like all the pent-up frustration and unresolved feelings had been waiting for this moment, and now that the dam had broken, there was no stopping it.
Jake groaned against your lips, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, his touch rough and demanding. You matched his intensity, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him harder, your body reacting to the fire igniting between you.
The years of distance, the bitterness, it all melted away as your bodies pressed together, the heat of his skin searing against yours. His lips moved from yours to your neck, biting and kissing with an urgency that sent shivers down your spine. You gasped, arching into him, your fingers digging into his back as if trying to ground yourself in the whirlwind of emotions that had taken over.
“You’re so goddamn frustrating,” you whispered against his ear, your breath hot against his skin.
“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” Jake growled, his hands slipping under your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His lips found yours again, and this time, the kiss was even more intense, a clash of lips and teeth that left you both breathless.
Whatever restraint had been holding you back was gone now, replaced by raw, undeniable need. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head before he did the same to you, his hands roaming over your body with a possessiveness that left you wanting more.
The tension that had been simmering for years exploded into something hot and primal, your bodies moving together with a desperation that neither of you could control. The sheets twisted around you as you shifted, Jake’s weight pressing down on you as he kissed you harder, deeper, his hands exploring every inch of your skin.
It wasn’t soft or sweet—this was pure, unfiltered passion, all the emotions you’d buried over the years coming to the surface in a heated, almost angry release. You couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get close enough, your mind clouded by the intensity of the moment.
When he finally pushed into you, it was like the culmination of everything you’d both been holding back. You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he set a relentless pace, his lips finding yours again in a bruising kiss that left you breathless.
The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the slap of skin against skin, and the occasional growl of his name as you both lost yourselves in the moment. It was fast, rough, and full of the tension you’d both carried for so long. Every thrust, every kiss, felt like years of frustration finally being unleashed.
You didn’t know how long it lasted, but by the time you both collapsed onto the bed, spent and breathing heavily, the tension in the room had shifted. The anger and frustration were still there, but now they were tangled up in something else—something raw, unresolved, and far more complicated than you’d expected.
Jake lay beside you, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. You stared up at the ceiling, your mind racing, wondering what the hell you’d just done.
“Well,” Jake finally muttered, his voice rough and still a little breathless, “guess we got that out of our systems.”
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dollfacefantasy · 2 months
Text
can't get started ♡
older bf!logan howlett x fem!reader
logan can't get it up one night and is humiliated. but that just means he'll have to prove he can still satisfy you.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, age gap (reader in 20s)
a/n: the part in dpw where he said he's got whiskey dick with the claws turned me on too much tbh
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This had never happened to Logan before.
That wasn't a lie he was telling you to make himself look less pathetic. It wasn't an affirmation he repeated in his own head to feel like he was still hot shit. It was the truth. One he would swear to on anything.
He'd never had a problem getting it up before.
Not with you, not with anyone. He thought the healing factor made him immune to whiskey dick or any kind of down-there dysfunction. But apparently not. Because the two of you finally had some time alone after being amidst the chaos of the mansion all day and his body was stalling.
The second he had the bedroom door shut, you were dragging him over to the bed and climbing into his lap. You were doing everything like usual. Your lips pressed against his, and then moved to his jawline and down his neck. Your hands glided across the firm muscles of his chest. Your hips rolled down against his lap, beckoning the appendage between his legs to reciprocate your desire.
But it just wouldn't. He tried to make it because it wasn't a matter of not wanting you. He wanted you bad. 
He grabs your chin and brings your lips back up to his mouth so he can communicate his passion wordlessly. He digs his fingers into your hips, feeling the beginnings of where your flesh swells into your ass. He envisions how you'd been prancing around the whole day, cute tits pushing against the fabric of your t-shirt and calling out for him to grab.
You're so soft and warm. The little mewls that leave your lips sound like calls of angels up above. It doesn't matter though. His cock had clocked out for the night.
"God damnit," he grumbles before brushing you off his lap and bringing his fist down against the mattress. He sighs and his head hangs.
He can already sense the look on your face. Worry, hesitation, and affection swirling into one humiliating look. He feels your hand find his shoulder, the touch tender and accepting.
"It's ok, Logan. We don't have to," you say. Your tone is so soft and gentle, and it just drives him fucking nuts.
"But you want to," he says and looks over at you. The look in your eyes kills him. He knows you don't mean it, but it looks so patronizing. As if he's an old dog about to be taken out back and old yeller'd.
"Yeah but I don't want you to force yourself. We can just cuddle," you offer, sweet as can be.
"It's not forcing, I want to do this. I want you so bad," he says and cups your cheek. He pulls you back onto his lap and nuzzles your neck. "Been thinking about this all day."
You let out a little sigh as he lays some kisses on the column of your throat, and that gives him a spark of hope. Maybe he can do this. Maybe he doesn't have to be put out to pasture just yet. The two of you make out and grind and feel each other up some more. But eventually your tits are all but in his face and his dick still doesn't have a pulse.
He huffs and pulls back. 'Fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart," he says.
You watch him, the gleam in your eyes as adoring as ever. It was the same look you gave him when you'd have to explain a basic function of a cell phone to him.
"It's ok. You don't have to be embarrassed," you reassure and lean in to peck his cheek.
He groans and gently brushes you off. "Don't. I don't need you coddling me."
"I'm just saying. I understand," you say with conviction, hands splaying on your chest to physically convey your empathy, "It happens to lots of guys when they get older. You don't have to be ashamed of it with me."
And in that moment, he wishes he didn't have his mutation so he could just die on the spot from being utterly mortified. He'd actually have preferred if you laughed in his face and called him an old man. A sad, old, perverted fuck who decided to date some half his age even though he couldn't keep up with her appetite. If you'd told him you were gonna find someone who could satisfy you, it probably would've stung less than being talked to like a patient who doesn't know their cancer is terminal.
There was no chance in hell, you'd ever do any of that though. As much as he hated that fact right now, it was part of why he loved you.
All he does is mumble a thank you and kiss the corner of your mouth. He doesn't just cuddle you after though. He gets you off on his thigh. You were still going to cum even if he couldn't. When you're done, he holds you close and rubs your back till you're sleeping curled up to his side.
His night isn't very restful though. It's haunted with the prospect of future incidents like this, of your perception of him changing. The look in your eyes changing from admiration to pity.
He can't live with that. The next day for the two of you is super busy, but he makes sure there's a spot at the end of it for him to secure his redemption.
This time around it's him carting you away from the others once the sun is down, mouth on the curve of your neck before you even reach the bedroom. His hands grope your waist and paw at your tits. You stumble into the door, bumping it loud enough that you'd be worried about someone hearing you if they weren't all downstairs.
"Logan..." you giggle. You push your ass back against him and glance at him out of your peripheral.
"Not what you're gonna be calling me before the night is done, sweet thing," he grunts and boosts you up.
Your legs press into his sides to support yourself as he opens the door. He takes the two of you inside and kicks it shut behind him before heading to the bed and tossing you on the mattress.
You look up at him with a coy smile, arms propping you up and one of your legs extended to entice him.
"You know... you don't have to prove anything to me, right?" you say.
"Oh, I don't?" he asks and grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed so your hips meet, "You're too easy to please, babydoll."
Another laugh bubbles through your lips. Your legs drop to lock around his waist. "I'm just saying. It's like totally normal, and I don't want you to get all grumpy about it."
"Oh, I get grumpy, do I?" he asks as he leans over you. His large body envelopes yours on the mattress. He ducks down further to swallow your words up with kisses.
You hum into the exchange but pull back a little to finish your thought.
"Mhm, you do. And I just don't want you to feel that way cause I knew when we got together what I was getting into," you say.
Your confidence is so cute. You talk with absolute certainty, like you understand all there is to be understood about him. Like you'd known him forever and he hadn't been doing things like this for decades longer than you walked this earth.
His mouth crashes against yours again, his body weighing down on you and crushing you into the mattress. 
"You did, hm? You knew what you were getting into? You got with me thinking I wouldn't be able to give it to you how you need all the time?" he mutters against your skin.
"I didn't mean it like-"
"Didn't mean it like that? How'd you mean it then, sweetheart?"
"I dunno..."
"Doesn't sound like you knew what you were getting into to me," he breathes.
That little sentence that you'd said in an attempt to comfort him unlocked something between the two of you. He felt his cock waking up and pressing against his zipper, eager to get out and slide home. It's hard to register your clothes being pulled off when he's got his tongue in your mouth and his fingers playing with your clit. In no time at all, he's got the both of you bare and his cock nestled between your thighs.
Like he already knew, the issue last night had never been about lack of desire. And he intended to prove that to you, fuck you so good it wiped your memory of any placating word that fell from your lips.
He ruts into you hard. The mattress rocks on the bed frame and threatens to slide off. His dick is big and even though it's not a new sensation for you, each time you take it is a stretch. It's even more so when he pushes you up by the back of your knees. You whine as you're folded in half. His thrusts hit your sweet spot every time at this angle.
"Thought you knew what you were getting into?" he teases as he pistons himself in and out.
You mewl and bob your head, though you aren't sure if you're shaking your head or nodding.
"Fuckkkk, Logan. 'm sorry," you pant. Your walls squeeze tight around his shaft as your eyes close up. He made every part of your body contract and feel like it was moments from exploding.
He simply laughs at your apology. "Don't gotta be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just showing you what happens when I get older."
His balls hang heavy and swing with each motion, clapping against your ass. The heat between your legs is enough to make you squirm. Constant whimpers pour from your lips as he fucks into you without mercy.
"I know," you moan, "You fuck me better than anyone else."
"That's right," he grunts, "Nobody else could fuck you like this. Just me."
"Mhm, just daddy," you slur and cling onto him tighter. Your arms hook around his neck and keep his sweaty skin flush against yours.
"Just daddy," he repeats, his tone smooth like silk despite his raspy voice, "You don't need anyone else. Not when I can take care of you like this."
His tip prods at your cervix, making you yelp and buck. He doesn't stop though, just keeps battering into you, hammering into your warm, wet hole.
"You don't need any little boys thinking they know how to handle you," he breathes and nuzzles your neck, "Your old man can handle you just fine, make you cum whenever you need."
A strangled cry leaves your lips. Your nails dig into his back so hard that it seems like you wanted to draw blood. His words just make you melt for him. Reduce you down to a compliant jumble of flesh for him to mold and play with how he wants.
"Needa cum right now, daddy," you whine.
"I know you do, spoiled girl. You act so understanding, but I know that little pussy is aching to cum around my cock. To get filled up with my cum," he murmurs.
You nod wildly.
He chuckles at your eagerness and snaps against you even harder.
"Hold on tight, baby," he whispers.
His hips ricochet off your ass, clapping against you with intensity that borders on violent. You squeal and hang on as directed. Your whole body rocks with his momentum. Your head bobbles around like it's empty, which it is. Empty of everything but him.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," you whimper.
"Let it out for me. Let me feel you burst, pretty girl," he grunts as he continues plowing into you.
Your body rolls. Your hips vibrate with the ecstasy release brings you. It crashes over you in one intense wave, like a gallon of liquid euphoria being poured over you. Your eyes flutter, and you bury your face in his neck like he has his in yours.
He fucks you through it. Coos in your ear too. "That's my baby. My sweet girl. Always sound so pretty when you're cumming."
One of your hands flies up to clutch at his thick, dark hair. Keeping him close keeps the words flowing.
"Getting so tight for me, fuck. No one can make me cum like you, honey. Drains me dry every fucking time."
Moments later he spurts into you, unloading thick ropes of his spend inside you. You let out another moan from that sensation alone. He growls and pants against your skin, his hands locking you in place as his hips pummel into your cunt and make sure every last drop has been released.
He lingers on you for a few moments before pulling out. His body feels loose in the afterglow. He stands at the edge of the bed and looks down at himself and then you. He knows he's gonna have to clean you up. Your inner thighs are shimmery with a mix of fluids, and the bush of dark hair at the base of his cock is in the same condition.
"Time to shower, baby?" he asks and pats your leg. You don't respond at first and he smirks. "Or did I tire you out too much?"
You whine something incoherent and shift to turn your face against the blankets. His smug look grows. He crawls over you again and nips at your jaw, rubbing his nose against your cheekbone.
"You know, it's ok, sweetheart. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's totally normal for pretty little things like you. I knew that going in."
His tone mimics your soft and understanding one from earlier. You make a little growl and swat at his bicep.
“Shut up, old man.”
5K notes · View notes
thewispsings · 2 months
Text
please date my sister in law | max verstappen
pairing: max verstappen x reader
summary: the one where charles won’t rest until he gets his fiancée’s sister a boyfriend.
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liked by maxverstappen1, yoursistersuser, 806,026 others!
charles_leclerc: are you a hot and single guy OR woman in monaco looking for the perfect lady? well boy do i have good news for you! here we have yn ln, my sister-in law, she’s VERY single, likes long walks on the beach, napping, eating, and knitting. if you are interested please comment below! SERIOUS OFFERS ONLY.
view comments below!
yourusername: what the fuck is this charles
charles_leclerc: this is me getting you a boyfriend?
yourusername: NO CHARLES THIS IS JUST NO. @/yoursistersuser TAKE HIS PHONE?
yoursistersuser: I HAVE BUT HE JUST KEEPS BUYING MORE
charles_leclerc: i cannot be stopped
user1: i’m interested?
charles_leclerc: no you are too ugly
yourusername: cha please stop
charles_leclerc: i will stop once i get you a nice PRETTY boyfriend
yoursistersuser: love, please delete this
charles_leclerc: i would do anything for you… except deleted this. yn needs a bf, she’s been to lonely lately
yoursistersuser: but this doesn’t help her get a boyfriend charles
charles_leclerc: but it will!! have faith
user2: he’s trying to sell her like she’s a dog?? 😭
user3: “likes long walks on the beach, napping, eating” IS SHE A DOG CHARLES??
user4: this is borderline weird and thoughtful at the same time
user5: charles get engaged and goes crazy
user6: i’m interested!
charles_leclerc: no you are far too short
yourusername: what’s the point of this if you’re just going to reject everyone
charles_leclerc: i need to pick someone suitable, i don’t need someone ugly or short ruining my wedding pictures
yourusername; then how about you delete this and don’t have to worry about “someone ugly or short ruining my wedding pictures”
charles_leclerc; but i don’t want you alone and sad in the pictures either!
user7: yn doesn’t have a bf?? she’s gorgeous
user8: charles you work with 19 perfectly rich, fine, and tall?? (not really, depends) men, set her up with them
user9: girl half of those men are taken
user8: okay so like 8 rich, fine, and tall (??) men, those are still lots of chances
oscarpiastri: what is going on?
charles_leclerc: are you interested oscar? because you’d be my top pick.
oscarpiastri: i’m too busy with racing for relationships right now, sorry!
yourusername: i just got rejected in front of the whole world through my brother-in law. CHARLES PLEASE STOP THIS
user9: hey so this is crazy!
user10: it’s cute that he cares enough about this too make a whole post
yourusername: charles please stop i’m getting so many dick pics
user12: gross
user13: oh that’s not…
user14: #freeyn
user15: why is he trying to sell her like a dog
user16: if this actual works, i fear we will never hear the end of it from charles
charles_leclerc: all those who are sending dick pics to my sister-in law WILL be reported for harassment. you are lucky my fiancé is holding me back from posting your small dicks all over social media.
user17: POST THE SMALL DICKS CHARLES, DO IT
user18: STOP HOLDING HIM BACK!! LET HIM BE FREE
user19: when he’s protective over his soon to be family >>
user20: three days into summer break and charles has gone crazy
yourusername: i gave you permission to propose to my sister and this is how you repay me?
yoursistersuser: we’re stuck with him for this rest of our lives 😓
yourusername: please, don’t remind me.
user21: “guy or woman” is yn gay?
charles_leclerc: yes! she is half homosexual :)
yourusername: jesus charles
charles_leclerc: what? it’s true!
danielricciardo: can you do one of these post for me?
charles_leclerc: you are rich, tall and buff. no.
charles_leclerc; @/maxverstappen1, @/georgerussell63, @/oscarpiastri, @/carlossainz55, @/alex_albon, @/danielricciardo, @/landonorris who’s interested? 😁
alex_albon; nope
danielricciardo: this weird mate
oscarpiastri; i’ve already said no
landonorris: no thank you
carlossainz55: no thank you
georgerussell63: shakes head
yourusername; kill me now
charles_leclerc: okay. whatever. i don’t care.
carlossainz55: he cares
charles_leclerc: on a completely totally unrelated note @/maxverstappen1, join me for coffee tomorrow morning?
maxverstappen1: sure 👍
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— cafe near charles house, 9am, on the dot.
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— max verstappen has posted a new story!
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[caption: nice cafe 👍]
story responses:
charles_leclerc: hehehehe 😈
user22: SO YOU AND YN WERE HANGING OUT??
user23: that twitter user wasn’t lying??!?!??
user24: charles set you and yn up huh 😼
danielricciardo: who goes to a cafe and gets tea?
maxverstappen1: yn does. and then i felt awkward ordering something else.
danielricciardo: it’s been years and she still makes you nervous?? 🤣
maxverstappen1: shut it
landonorris: i’m surprised you didn’t run away in fear when you say her instead of charles
maxverstappen1: so does everyone just know about charles plan or what?
landonorris: pretty much yeah!
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 501,026 others!
yourusername: july and august photo dump 👍
view comments below!
charles_leclerc: my wedding is in a week, why are you posting on instagram and not freaking out?
yourusername: i can multitask
charles_leclerc: maybe you having a bf was a bad idea, you are too distracted 😑
yourusername; lalalala can’t hear you
user23: boyfriend you say? 😏
user24: 2 months and shes been seen "hanging out" with max more then 10 times, AND she justs posted jimmy or sassy (i cant tell the difference) what are you tryna say yn?
user25: man i can’t believe charles actually got yn a boyfriend
user26: and it’s MAX. like his max.
user27: how do yall even know theyre dating?
user25: context clues babes
user28: this is the closest we’ll get to yn and max making it “official”
user29: i feel like if they go to the wedding together, that’ll be them making it “official”
user30: oh definitely
maxverstappen1: puzzles are hard
yourusername: they’re easy when you focus on
maxverstappen1: how can i focus when i when i have a gorgeous woman should as yourself near me?
landonorris: that was smooth man 👏
maxverstappen1: thank you, i’ve been practicing
user31: and people are still saying they aren’t together??
user32: people want them to post a story wirh the caption “this is us making it official” 💀 like babes this is the best we’re going to get
user33: i can’t believe the wedding of the century is in ONE WEEK??
user34: it feels like just yesterday when charles accidentally told the whole world he was engaged
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourisistersuser, and 1,026,027 others!
yourusername: today, my sister married an idiot
view comments below!
user35: that wedding was so fucking gorgeous
user36: charles and yn planned the whole thing?? fuck f1 we need them as party planners
yourusername: planning this wedding was the most stressful thing in my fucking life. i never want to plan anything ever again
user37: well the wedding was beautiful so, worth it?
user38: i was expecting a much more emotional caption
user39: she got all her emotions out during her speech 😭
user40: OMG HER SPEECH WAS THE CUTEST THING. “charles you have changed mine and my sisters life for the better. you have introduced me to someone who makes me feel like i’m on cloud 9.” THE CAMERA PANS TO MAX??? “i know we joke and what not, but… i don’t know, just…thank you for making me feel like family.” TEARS ARE STREAMING DOWN MY FACE “i love you both so much,” I CRIED, CHARLES CRIED, EVERYONE CRIED
user41: we will never get that amount of emotion from yn ever again
user42: i will enjoy it while it last
yoursistersuser: i did indeed marry an idiot.
yourusername: it’s okay tho! we still like him
charles_leclerc: awwwww 🥰🥰
user43: charles just ignoring the idiot part
user44: it’s been a good day. yn and max made itt official, charles got married, and the wedding was gorgeous
user45: f1 twt has never been so peaceful
user46; RIGHT??? everyone’s just celebrating the marriage
maxverstappen1: will we have a big wedding?
yourusername: absolutely not. unless charles plans it by himself, we’re getting married in a courthouse
charles_leclerc: are you serious? you’ll let me plan your wedding?
yourusername: you proved yourself with this wedding so yes
charles_leclerc: AHHHHHH OMG OMG OMG I HAVE TO GET STARTED
user47: first it started with him trying to get her a bf, now he’s planning her wedding
user48: i feel like a proud mom watching her kids grow up 😢
. . .
notes; pls pls pls send me blurb or smau request!! i have 2 weeks left of vacation and i must make the most of it
5K notes · View notes
simpjaes · 6 months
Text
EROTIC EMPATHY (s.jy)
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Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Nope. Are you about to? Yep. or the one where jake has a streak of bad luck in bed and his friends make fun of him for it, you find him advertising himself on a dating app and decide to help him out. 
minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it
WORDCOUNT― 12.7k
PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader 
CONTENT― virgin guy who lives with his parents!jake, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that, facetime-sex, real life sex
SIDE CHARACTERS― jay as reader’s best friend and roommate, heeseung briefly as jake’s friend.
NOTE― if you've read this before it's because im the person who wrote it [ncteez] and im revamping it for jake, pls don't send me messages on either account about stealing a work that's already mine!
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags―big huge dick jake, phone sex (ish), face time sex,  masturbation, pet name: baby, making out, he eats you out twice, fingering, whining and whimpering, deep throating, premature ejaculation, desperate man wants his dick wet lmao, grinding, tit fondling/licking, clit stimulation, he bites the fuck out of his tongue to try and distract himself from coming too soon again,  no condom aka cream pie, jake gets feelings like immediately when u touch him
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Check this shit out,” you laugh, presenting your phone to Jay with a chuckle. “yes or no?”
Jay snorts, nearly spitting out the bite of food in his mouth as he reads the bio of the man you’re showing to him.
“Depends, you trying to take his innocence or are you trying to get railed so hard that the entire building can hear?” He narrows his eyes at you, making a point to call you out for keeping him awake last weekend. 
You wave him off with an apologetic look. To be fair, the dude from before knew how to make a girl moan, it’s not your fault that you managed to find a decent lay in this city. Even if he ghosted you, you assume you may have been a bad lay for him, if anything. 
“I wouldn’t mind trying something new, dude seems desperate.” You swipe through his photos, seeing that he appears to be just a normal dude with normal interests. “He’s cute too, so I’m gonna say yes.”
Jay groans this time, slapping a hand to his forehead and glaring at you. 
“You’d better warn me if you end up bringing him home, I’m not about to listen to some guy start crying over a blowjob.”
You nod to him, sending a message to the eighty-two-year-old Jake and feeling delighted at his near-instant response to you. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure you’re out of the apartment if I invite him over,” You wiggle your brows as you stand to your feet and turn toward your room, eyes now glued to the open dating app’s messages. “Maybe you should go out and find a nice girl to rail to get back at me.”
“You’re so fucking weird.” Jay laughs but feels kind of shitty because it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to get back at you for the loud sex. Guess he just doesn’t have the magic dick to make girls moan the same way you do.
Not that he wants to make you moan or anything, he definitely doesn’t. If anything, he wishes you were more like the girls he brings home.
Fucking quiet.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You: i’ve never seen a virgin grandpa on this app before 
Jake: ….i’m 21, it says that in my bio
You: I think you’re lying. 
Jake: do u know how to change it, my bitch friends won't tell me lol
You: why would i help you lie to other women
Jake: i’m not lying!!1
You laugh to yourself as you text the new sex interest in your life, wondering if he’s lying about his presumed virginity. 
You: ok, twenty-one-year-old “jaeyun” who is five miles away from me, you’re actually a virgin? Like for real?
Jake: yea….are u here to make fun of me for it too? all the girls here just turn me down even if i offer to cook for them after
Jake: maybe it's the playlists idk
You: send me the playlist
Jake: [spotify link to a playlist titled “NUT”] 
You try not to snort, but you do. Given, he does have decent taste, but why anyone would have dynamite by bts and never say never by justin bieber on their sex playlist is beyond you. 
You: surely it’s not your playlist…….
You: anyway
You: you’re really just looking to get laid for the first time, like, ever? and you’re offering to cook dinner too?
Jake: yea
You: you’ve never had a blowjob or anything like that? you can’t seriously think I can believe you’ve never been laid, it’s not like you’re ugly or anything
Jake: u don’t think im ugly? :) 
Jake: and yea I’ve had a blowjob before
You: why didn’t you sleep with her then?
Jake: can we stop talking about why im a virgin
You: sure but you know im gonna bring it up again, right?
You’re smiling at your phone, finding him charming and awkward in how he communicates with you via messenger. Of course, you’re curious as to why he’s a virgin, even more, curious as to why he’s on a dating app looking to lose said virginity. 
You: do you want my number? it’s embarrassing to have the app open in public if i wanna talk to you.
Jake, on the other hand, is quite literally kicking his feet and checking your profile every few minutes just to look at you. He didn’t even think too hard about you calling him attractive then not following up on it, because the fact that you just offered your number to him in case you want to talk to him? Butterflies. Given, it’s juvenile for someone of his age to still be experiencing the typical high-school crush feelings, would anyone blame him? It’s just how he is, with or without having had sex. He can’t imagine not feeling giddy inside when he’s talking to someone that he thinks is pretty. 
Jake: yea :) u can text me whenever [redacted phone number] 
You respond to him by texting his number rather than using the app messenger, screenshotting his contact info, and sending it to him with a sly smile. 
You: [screen shot// contact name: grandpa jake] 
Grandpa Jake: :| 
Grandpa Jake: im 21
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Okay so, here’s the thing. Jake is undeniably funny, witty, and kind. Another thing, he’s wildly attractive. Especially upon fulfilling your request for a workout selfie from him. So, what gives? You read the texts he’s sent that made you laugh out loud, you look at his pictures, stare at the workout selfie, and you genuinely cannot understand how he doesn’t have women waiting in line to have at him. 
You: it’s been like four days since we started talking
Grandpa Jake: yep, almost five
You: four days of being friends but no mention of your bio on the app, yknow, where you’re begging to have sex for the first time ever?
Grandpa Jake: right, yea. you wanna do it? i didn’t wanna assume lol
You: not answering that til you explain why. i mean, it’s totally ok that you are but like, you’re a green flag all around so im a little worried you might have like a micropenis or something
Disclaimer, if he had a micropenis, you’d still let him use it on you. After all, hooking up is something you enjoy doing regardless of size.
Grandpa Jake: i do NOT have a micropenis
You: prove it
Grandpa Jake: right now???
You laugh to yourself but also like, it’s the first time the two of you have done anything more than bully each other. Or rather, you bully him and he defends himself constantly. 
You: answer my question first
It takes a few minutes for him to respond, but you’re doing coursework anyway so it’s not a huge deal. Totally not like your ears perk up and a smile creeps across your face every time your phone goes off or anything. Definitely not. 
Grandpa Jake: um… i still live with my parents and before u make fun of me for that pls understand that its not like i wanna be here 
Grandpa Jake: i have a job and everything!!! im not a mooch!
He’s getting off track again. You could honestly care less if he still lives with his parents. You wish you still lived with yours, to save money at least. 
You: they won’t let you have anyone over? 
Grandpa Jake: well, that too but 
Grandpa Jake: listen this sounds real stupid but it just never happened? even when i tried or things almost happened, it never did
You: damn, you’re unlucky. so what happened with the girl who gave you a blowjob?
Grandpa Jake: her boyfriend walked in
You: WHAT
You’re trying to pity him, honestly, but damn. Did he go for a taken girl? Yikes. You hate to admit the ick that just flooded your mind. 
Grandpa Jake: its not like i knew she had a boyfriend
You: phew 
Grandpa Jake: so yea. do u wanna help me out or not? 
The whole reason you started talking to him was specifically to help him out. Now that you know he’s not some weirdo, and is definitely super hot and funny, hell yes. 
You: yeah, sure. 
You: about the micropenis though, 
Grandpa Jake: right…um
A few minutes of silence, your coursework is long forgotten in the anticipation of receiving your first dick pic from Jake. You wait, and you wait, and you wait.
You: i mean if you can’t prove it that's ok 
Grandpa Jake:  just give me a sec damn
He’s doing his best to get the most attractive angle. It’s not like he’s never sent nudes to anyone or anything, but like– this is you. The first person to actually agree to take his virginity. Should he hold it? Put a remote next to it for size? Should he have his face in the pic? Take a mirror pic? 
Of course, as he’s taking several pictures of his length to try and impress you, he had to get hard first. He can’t imagine you’d want a flaccid cock pic in your inbox, and that would also mean that he’s working himself up with the amount of touching, holding, and groping throughout the past sixteen photos he’s taken and deleted. It’s at the point that now it’s actually hard to care about taking a photo, pre-cum already dripping out of him as he continues to try.
He’s entered the realm of his regular horny self, only this time he’s texting you. Someone who wants to see what he’s packing. Taking a dick pic is insanely easy once he stops thinking with his brain, and he’s quick to send you a photo of himself this time. His chin at the top of the picture, face entirely hidden, hand wrapped around his thick and leaking cock, sweatpants shoved down. 
Grandpa Jake: [image attachment] 
In all fairness, you’ve never actually cared much for dick pics. Men always look too confident even with the smallest of girth being offered through the pixels. Jake though. He looks a bit desperate even with his face hidden. His cock looks desperate, his fingers wrapped around it look desperate, the way his sweatpants hug against his thighs look desperate. And now, you feel desperate. You keep your cool though.
You: oh, you were jerking off, got it. 
Grandpa Jake: sorry can’t help it 
Then he doesn’t text you back. Which is kind of a drag because he looks to be quite big in the photo alone. Maybe you’d be okay just this once to look like the desperate one. Mostly because you’re about ten seconds from trying to figure out which direction five miles away he resides so you can go palm his cock for him. Plus, the idea of an absolute simp virgin like him seeing you act a little desperate would probably be one for the books. 
You: you know i can help you out with that, right? especially since you definitely don’t have a micropenis
You’re still being ignored. The silence from your phone makes your belly flip around inside of you at the image of him doing it too. He probably does it a lot. He’s probably desperate to feel good and watches porn like 24/7. You can imagine how he’d act if you were in front of him right now, the very idea of taking his virginity becoming entirely too attractive.
Shrugging, knowing full well what he’s doing right now that’s causing him to ignore you, you press the call button and wait. You’re a little bit nervous, mostly because you’ve never actually heard his voice before, or better yet how he sounds when he’s getting off. You’re shocked that he actually answers. 
“Hello?” He says, muffled through the phone and trying to sound not-so-out-of-breath. It’s not like he looked at who was calling him anyway. With his luck, it’s probably Heeseung or some shit.
“Don’t hello me,” You gripe, narrowing your eyes at yourself in your mirror. “You’re just gonna jerk off without me after I agreed to help you fix your little problem?” 
The silence on his end is a bit nerve-wracking until you hear the frantic sound of his palm clearly wreaking havoc on him. You smirk, leaning back on your chair and sighing. On his end, processing that it’s you on the other line sends his entire body into a state of burning with arousal. Your voice is sweet even when you speak with the same sarcasm as you do via text. 
God, this alone is enough for him right now. 
“Were you at least thinking of me?”
He hums into the phone, indicating that yes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His voice is kind of soft despite only hearing one word and a hum, you want to actually hear him talk to you, or moan, whichever he decides. 
“Were you looking at my pictures?”
He nods his head, forgetting that you’re not able to see him and instantly responds with a small and breathy yes instead. It’s a bit difficult for him to talk right now, especially now that he can put a voice to the photos he’s been jerking off to. It’s a bit overwhelming, actually.
“Do you want better ones?” You ask, encouraging him to speak a bit more. 
“Oh god, really?” He asks through the speaker, his hand pausing on his length as if to hold off until you confirm. “Like, nudes?”
“Mhm, yeah. If you want.” You smile as you speak to him, already standing to shimmy your pajamas off of you and stand in front of the mirror. “Or, you know what would be better?”
“Letting me come over and actually do it?” That’s what he wants to say to you, but he doesn’t, he simply raises a brow and bites his lip, trying to contain his excitement.
“What?” He asks, still keeping his responses short because despite how into this he is, he’s a bit shy about it. 
“I can facetime you.” 
He panics. That means you’ll be watching him too, right? Sure he’s sent nudes, he’s received nudes. He’s sent videos too, and received them. But never has he like, you know, live masturbated on facetime so someone else can watch. 
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” You backtrack at his silence, but you’re cut off almost immediately. 
“No! no, we can facetime–”
Your stomach flips again as you fix yourself quickly in the mirror before setting your phone against your desk and rolling back a bit in your chair to determine if it’ll work this way or not. It’s not like he’s expecting you to do it too, he probably just thinks you’re gonna sit here naked for him to stare at. You’re kind of excited to see him in action, to hear him in action for you.
You hit the button to switch the call over to facetime and once again adjust your phone as you stare at yourself in the camera. Then you’re needing to catch your breath at the image of him.
Oh fuck.
There he is, his camera angled towards his face and not at all toward what's going on below his waist, but you don’t mind at first. Looking at him, the lighting clearly shows that he’s a fan of mood lighting. You watch his eyes briefly, staring through the screen at you before moving your eyes to his arm, the one that clearly isn’t holding his phone because you can see it moving as he continues to jerk himself off. It’s an interesting feeling to have only seen him in photos until this moment, and it’s insanely attractive for some reason. Seeing him in motion, knowing what he’s doing, knowing that he feels good right now because of you.
“Let me see,” you say quietly, adjusting your bra strap and preparing to slip it off of you if he so much as asks. “Prop your phone up somewhere like I did.”
He nods, his eyes still staring straight through his screen at you as he moves around and the image becomes a blur of movement rather than his face. He settles in quickly, somehow looking even more attractive with the way his eyes no longer stare at the screen. You can almost sense a hint of shyness from him at this moment and it kind of floors you, given how easy he is to talk to and how easily he sent a dick pic to you.
“Feeling shy?” You ask, spreading your legs wide and cupping the seat of your panties, hiding the small spot of wetness forming there. “You act like I’m not going to be touching you at some point soon.”
You see him perk up, his eyes looking to you on the screen with more fondness than arousal. At the same time, his hand grips the base of his cock as he holds it straight up, erect and glistening proudly for you to look at. 
“You look pretty big, bet you could fill me up so nicely,” You try to compliment, boosting his confidence and ego as best you can simply because he looks pretty with a smile on his face. Especially when his cock twitches at the words. “Would you want to do that for me, Jake?”
“Oh god,” He groans, hearing his name come from your mouth for the first time. His hand jerks up his length once, almost aggressively as he winces at it. “This is going to be so embarrassing.” He admits now, sliding his palm up and down shamelessly as he watches between your spread legs. 
In a way, he wonders if you can see how desperate he is. There’s no way you can’t, right? Like, you can see how badly he wants you, right?
“Embarrassing, why?” You chuckle, tapping now at the spot between your legs. “Can you not see that I’m just as turned on right now?”
He groans again with deep breaths, releasing his length and using that same hand to swipe his hair out of his face, then immediately grimacing at the fact that he now has pre-cum in his hair. Embarrassing, all of it. 
“Well,” He tries to avoid you bringing up the fact that he just did that and only shoots his hand back to his cock in order to distract whatever off-hand shit you’re about to say. “You don’t even have your panties off yet, and I could probably get off right now.”
You laugh, not wanting to ruin the mood with the whole cum on his own face thing, so you save that for later. Instead, you instantly slip your panties off and present yourself to him much like he’s doing for you. 
“Better?”
Jake watched with his breath stuck in his throat, now finding it harder to breathe at the image of your pussy and the way he hopes he can touch it one day. 
“Can you–” He pauses, not being used to dirty talk towards anything other than the porn playing on his phone. He thinks hard, and you can see it based on the way he, once again, neglects his cock with an unmoving palm.
“Can I do what?  Go on,” You urge him, running a hand up to your chest and fondling your nipples right there in front of him, but not yet moving the fabric. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”
Baby. You called him baby. Not that he’s into that but the fact that you did it makes him wonder if he is now. Maybe it’s because he wants you to take him for all he’s worth at this point. One, to get rid of the virginity looming over his head, and two, because you sound so fucking smooth when you’re watching him get off. 
“Can you spread your pussy for me?” He whispers at first, uncaring of how dirty it sounds falling out of his throat with a moan. 
His eyes are boring a hole through his screen as he watches one of your hands tease at your hidden nipples, and the other hand sliding up and down the wet folds there. So badly does he want to see it. He wants to see your hole pulsing for him, leaking, needy. Just like him.
His cock twitches wildly the second you do it for him. Two fingers spreading your pussy open and tensing your hips just to move it closer to the screen for him. 
“Is this what you want?” You start, making damn sure he can see every part of your glistening cunt. “You want to fuck this?” You chuckle now, slowly dipping a finger into yourself and pulling it back out to present the wetness for him.
“Oh,” he sighs, now fucking into his fist at a pace that proves he’s most definitely never fucked a woman before. “Fuck.”
You nod at him, urging him to keep admitting his attraction to you. You’re aware he doesn’t see it though, as his hips continue to move quicker and quicker each time you press your finger into yourself. 
“You gonna act like this when I’m riding you?” You ask with a tilted head, studying how hard he’s fucking against his hand. You can imagine how good it would feel if it were you, and quite frankly, this one finger isn’t enough at this point. 
“God. You’re gonna ride me?” He moans, eyes rolling only slightly as he imagines it, mouth falling open at the mere thought of it. 
“Mhm,” you hum, now sliding in another finger and scissoring yourself open with them. “Would you want that?”
Before you can even work yourself up, and before he can even answer that question, you see him release. His cum shooting out in spurts across his stomach and nearly up to his chest. His labored breathing shifts the lighting against his abs and makes him look so entirely delicious. You’ve never wanted to lick a man clean so badly in your life.
You’re not even upset that he didn’t make it into the knitty gritty, considering he’s a virgin and all and you’re literally fucking yourself in front of him while implying riding him. You’re actually flattered. 
His release caused him to see white for several moments, forgetting he’s even on camera for you. When he comes back to reality, watching you continue to finger yourself as your eyes scan your screen, all he can do is feel bashful. 
“S-shit, sorry,” He comments with a half laugh, looking down at his cum covered chest before looking at you again. Honestly, he could probably go again if you let him watch for a bit longer, but he’s embarrassed now. “I uh, didn’t mean to come that fast. It just kind of happened.”
“It’s okay,” You comfort him, slightly out of breath as you wonder if this is all you’re gonna get tonight. “It was cute.”
After a few moments, you sense his embarrassment and slowly slip yourself back into a sobering headspace, closing your legs and trying to ignore how wet you still are.
“Are you, um, done?” Jake says, disappointed.
“Mm, no.” You smile. “But it’s okay, I’d rather make you come first anyway.”
His face lights up despite the disappointment in his gut of not being able to see you get off. 
“You still wanna see me after this?”
You nod with a smile, endeared by his need to give, but inability to do it.
“When are you free?” You ask, wondering if he’s ever going to clean himself up. 
“Whenever you are.” He laughs, scratching the back of his head with, once again, the same cum-stained hand. 
“I’ll text you later then,” You smile through the screen and give a small wave before your genuine smile turns into a smirk. “After I take care of my little problem though.”
You notice him sitting up in protest, but you hang up with a satisfied laugh and head to the shower to both finish yourself off and clean up.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Grandpa Jake: what about 3pm on thurs?
You: you want to lose your virginity at 3pm….on a thursday???
Grandpa Jake: my parents have plans so ill have the house to myself for a few hours
You: or you could just come here? 
Grandpa Jake: if ur comfortable with that? i thought u were supposed to come here lol
You: im comfortable, plus my roommate will kick your ass if you’re weird
Jake contemplates hard on that last part but shrugs over it. Probably a girl thing, and it’s not like he’s an actual creep or anything. You’d be the one with power over him when the two of you are alone anyway. 
You: what about tomorrow, 8pm? 
Tomorrow. Hell yeah, tomorrow. God, he’d show up right the fuck now if you let him. He may live with his parents but he’s got a car. 
Grandpa Jake: send ur address, ill be there :) 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Tomorrow, you’ll be a man.” Heeseung croaks through the speaker at Jake, totally assuming that this whole virginity loss dating app plan was actually just a joke. 
“Why do you have to say it that way?” Jake groans back, slapping his hand over his forehead and rubbing his temples. “I didn’t think anyone was actually gonna come through, she’s the first one.”
“What makes you think she’s actually gonna send you her address?” Heeseung laughs, once again placing more pity onto his best friend than anything else. “She’s probably not even a real person, you’re gonna end up at some old guy’s house.”
Jake laughs, or snorts really. 
“Oh, she’s real.”
Heeseung sits up in curiosity this time, switching his phone to the other ear with interest. 
“Hm? Have you already met her?”
“Kind of. We like, um,” Jake pauses, wondering if he sounds way too excited to tell him or not. “We facetimed a few hours ago.”
Silence.
“She got naked.”
“Oh ho ho!” Heeseung encourages him. “So you guys did some stuff on facetime and she still wants to meet you?” 
“That’s what I said–wait,” Jake smiles to himself, about two seconds from kicking his feet before realizing what Heeseung just said. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
“You’re kind of a loser, we’ve been over this.” Heeseung laughs yet again. “Call me when you get your cherry popped or whatever.”
Then he hangs up. 
Grandpa Jake: do u think im a loser?
You: yeah kinda
You’re laughing at his text as you sit across the table from Jay.
“That him texting?” Jay quirks a brow, watching you smile at your phone and practically ignore him. 
You laugh again at Jake’s string of defensive texts before responding with a short “it’s okay, i like losers”, and putting your phone down to finish telling Jay that he’s gonna get kicked out tomorrow for the night. 
“So,” You clap your hands in front of yourself, glaring at Jay. “You’re gonna have to be gone tomorrow at eight because I'm about to literally obliterate this guy.”
“Jesus, I’m scared for him.”
“You should be scared for me. Because, well…” You trail off for a second, scrolling up your texts to see the dick pic Jake sent before the facetime call. “He’s huge and–”
“I did not need to know that.” Jay sighs, scooting back in his chair and standing to his feet. 
“You act like you don’t ask every time I fuck someone.” You roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Weirdo.”
Jay stands there awkwardly before shrugging and lunging for your phone. 
“How big?” He laughs, not actually trying to see the dude’s dick but always way too curious for his own good despite never wanting to be around to hear what the big dicks do to his best friend. 
“Stop prying, you’ll get jealous.”
He scoffs, brushing off his pants of invisible dust and crossing his arms. 
“I’ll have you know, my dick is perfectly sized.”
“I’m sure it is. Anyway, tomorrow, be gone.” 
He nods, sauntering to the living room and flopping down on the couch. 
“Keep it in your room, please. I don’t want to sit on any cum when I get home.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It’s Thursday. It’s approximately seven in the evening on Thursday and you’re well aware that Jake is probably bubbling with anxiety if his texts are anything to go by. 
So many “are you sures,” so many “you can tell me to leave if you decide you don’t want tos,” and even more “i can’t wait to see yous.”
“Jay, aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” You ask, opening the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. 
You’ve already showered again today, primped yourself up for him really. Everything smooth, soft, and ready to be touched. You wonder if Jake is doing the same, and smile.
“Hm, yeah. But I kinda wanna see him before I leave.”
You turn your head to him with a curious look, glaring only slightly.
“I swear to god if you scare him off, I’m kicking you out.”
Jay laughs, patting the couch as if to invite you to sit with him to ease your own anxiety. He can smell the familiar lotion you use before dates, and he notes that you’ve really tried to look good today. 
“I think you might kill him, if I’m being honest.” Your best friend laughs softly, complimenting you. 
“Thanks, that’s the plan.”
And so, the two of you sit together laughing at stupid comedy shows until your phone lights up at around seven thirty. 
Grandpa Jake: i’m a little early, is that ok? 
“Oh shit, he’s here.” You immediately feel nervous, which is pretty normal for you anyway so it’s easily overlooked by Jay. 
He jumps up, brushing off his clothes and walking toward the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet. 
“Let him in then, I’ll leave when he gets here.”
You give him a knowing look before nodding. 
You: second floor, take a left when you get to the top of the stairs, third apartment on the left.
Within minutes, there’s a very gentle knock on the door and Jay is throwing himself at it to get a look at him. Unfortunately it’s a bit more awkward than he expected it to be. 
Not only did Jake think your roommate was a woman, but he, at the very least, expected you to answer the door. He was preparing himself all day for this moment, to knock on your door and have you open it. At first he thought that maybe he even got the wrong apartment. 
“Oh, I think I got the wrong place, sorry–” 
“Nope, you’re in the right place.” Jay smiles, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for him. “You can come in.”
Jake does, awkwardly. Avoiding eye contact with Jay and barely even looking into the apartment before stepping inside. 
“She got all cleaned up for you.” Jay whispers, throwing Jake a wink before stepping out and closing the door behind him.
Jake still hasn’t really looked up from the floor yet, and you make quick work to make him feel more comfortable. 
“Don’t mind him, that’s my roommate.” You say, making your way toward him and trying your best not to stare because, okay, wow. He’s kind of ten times more attractive in person, which is fucking insane considering how good he looked through a screen. 
“Have you and him ever like…” Jake immediately starts, realizing he might have made things weird. 
“Jay?! Oh, god no.” You laugh, reaching for his arm and feeling him lean into it with relief. “You’re allowed to look up by the way. You’ve been staring at that crack in my floor since you got here.”
Immediately Jake moves his eyes up to you, the eye contact feeling more intense than it should, but you’re locked in too. The awkwardness dissolves almost instantly, he feels no need to question you further about anything really, especially with the way he feels his throat run dry at the very idea of this whole plan actually happening at some point.
When he made his profile on that app, it was kind of a half joke until like, people started talking to him. Given, no one ever followed through but you, he’s happy he stuck with it. Happy you came out of the works from said dating app, happy you picked him. 
Really though, he picked you. Part of you wonders about why you want to take this from him. For power, for control, to be praised, to feel like you’re his entire world of desire for a brief time? All of those things, yes, but you can admit now that he’s in front of you that it’s a bit intimidating. 
He’s not shy at all, just a bit awkward. He seems confident, he seems ready, and you find yourself lucky for being the one to get to do this for him, or with him. If at all, Jake is the type of man you could see yourself hanging out with often, with or without having sex. 
Given, upon seeing him face to face for the first time, the only thing you thought about was how attractive he is. Now though, as you look back at him along with the silence of this apartment offering nothing more than awkwardness, it’s not. Because you’re seeing him for all he is and he appears to not be able to help it. Is this what people mean when they say there’s an instant spark between two people? Despite how attractive he is, you find yourself thinking of how many times he’s made you laugh in the short period of time you’ve known him along with how many times he’s willingly embarrassed himself
And now for the first time, he’s right there and all you want to do is…give him exactly what he wants.
“Okay, listen,” You start, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up at record speed by just having his eyes looking into yours. You know by this point that you’re not going to be keeping your hands to yourself at all. And for his sake, he’d probably prefer it that way. “If I move too fast, just tell me to stop.”
Jake tilts his head with a dopey smile, eyes still fixed on you, scanning you, coming to terms with the fact that you’re absolutely everything he thought you would be and more. 
“I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue,” He admits, feeling his length confined within his pants twitch wildly at the fact that this is happening. “I struggled not to get hard just driving over.” He laughs, looking away from you for the first time with flushed cheeks. 
You find that painfully adorable. No man would ever admit that to you. Especially after just a few minutes of meeting in person for the first time, but this is Jake and in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you’re kind of expecting him to be really forward and say things that will have you frozen in thought.
“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. You’re pretending that his apparent inexperience isn’t getting to you, but you’re not really fooling anyone. “Let’s get you some water or something, I can see you drooling.”
Jake laughs, shrugging because yeah maybe he’s drooling a little bit. You smell fucking immaculate, your hand is small in his but still manages to overpower him, your skin feels soft and slightly cold. Honestly, it’s dangerous just having you stand in front of him right now because he could absolutely blow his load just by you looking at him. Embarrassing? Always.
He follows after you, very nearly crowding up to you as the comfort sets in and the last bit of awkwardness leaves his mind. All he can think about is how you sounded over that facetime call. He’s seen what’s between your legs, and during that night all he could think about was touching you, fucking you. 
Now he’s here, and you’re right there. 
It’s hard not to crowd up, it’s hard not to cling to you, it’s hard not to be excited. Seeing your hand wrapping around that bottle of water to give to him, seeing you lean just before grabbing it– of course he’s staring. Of course he’s crowding closer, almost to the point that he’s up against your ass when you lean back up from the fridge.
You turn after grabbing him the bottle and are shocked by his close proximity when you face him. He looks down at you with a soft face, one that shows he’s not embarrassed by how he immediately attaches to you. His smile is just as clumsy as he is, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing too. You’re glad, because it makes it entirely too easy to drop the water bottle, grab his face, and chase his lips all the way until he’s against the counter and kissing you back. 
He sighs instantly into it, wincing at the way the kitchen counter hits his back, you pressing against him so harshly just to get that first taste of his lips. He’s excited that you seem as eager as him, maybe even as desperate as him. 
For you, a man has never been this eager just to kiss you, nor has a man ever kissed you this good. You can imagine that he’s probably got a lot of experience in terms of kissing, not much elsewhere though. You can tell by the way he moves his hands to all of the right places, but his blatant virginity shows through all of it as he becomes a horny mess almost instantly. 
His tongue is warm and wet, small whining sounds coming from his throat as you press yourself against him briefly. His hands never leave your body and he shows no shame in touching where he wants to touch. Rubbing, groping, and caressing every inch of your waist, ass, and even moving up to your face to deepen the kiss. His hips press forward almost constantly, and all you can do is brace yourself on the counter behind him to try and tame his relentless hips and obvious attempts at rushing what he wants right now. 
If you’re going to sleep with him though, he’s gonna get the full experience, not a quickie. Plus, you agreed to keep it in your room for Jay’s sake. 
“Hey,” you sigh, trying to pull back from the kiss but he isn’t having it. Still kissing against you and running his lips down to your neck when you continue to speak. “We should go to my room, your first time isn’t about to be in my kitchen.”
“Why not?” He groans against your neck, kissing harshly with faint wet sounds, his hands wrapping tightly around your waist now. “I don’t care where we do it, i just want you like, really bad.”
Still, his lips don’t leave you, nor do his hands. You find yourself giggling against him with a shake of your head at the way he protests when you pry yourself from his grip. Of course, though, he’s immediately clinging to you and chasing after you to your bedroom before practically throwing himself at you again.
You barely get the door closed before he’s pressing you against the wall, hand running down again to your waist and easily snaking up your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. You let him, enjoying the way he kisses you for just the second time, enjoying more the way you can feel him lose his composure every few minutes from this alone. 
You’re kind of in love with the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to pull back even for a breath. He seems to love kissing, and you wonder what else he’ll come to love doing tonight too. From the way he moves his tongue and his lips on you, you can imagine he’d be fucking heavenly at eating pussy.
Successfully you push him away again, rushing to your bed before he can make you melt against his lips for a third time, and you’re instantly trying to present yourself to him much like you did over camera. 
“You’re really going to let me?” He asks with a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face and wiping his mouth. His brain malfunctions at your presumed answer to that question, watching you take your panties and shorts off in one go and leaning back to spread your legs for him. 
At this moment, you’re all his and you make it a point to spread your pussy out for him like he asked you to do before. You can practically see his knees buckle that very instant.
“To think I wouldn’t want to do this is insane,” You say, wiggling your hips for him to see. “Look how wet I am.” You pause, studying the hungry look in his eyes. “Do you wanna try eating me out?”
He doesn’t even nod. He’s immediately on his knees against your bed and gripping your thighs to pull you toward his face. You yelp only slightly at the movement, a chuckle coming out shortly after as you sit yourself up properly to take in the image of his eyes sparkling up at you. 
It looks like he’s been wanting to do this to someone all his life, with his needy body proving it time and time again. Your breath is caught in your throat, a small groan coming out at the image alone before you’re able to process words again. 
“Can’t believe how good you look down there,” You say softly, brushing his hair out of his face for him like he did to himself earlier. “Have you ever done this before?”
He shakes his head, eyes shifting from your pussy to your face. You can feel his nervous yet eager breath against you, making your eyelashes flutter at even that slight sensation. 
“Go on then.” You sigh out, trying to prepare for what he can manage with that pretty mouth of his.
You watch him and the way he doesn’t seem to think at all when he does it. Once again, he’s adorable. His tongue goes everywhere, only grazing your clit briefly every few licks, never staying on it presumably because he’s in the process of finding the clit based on how your body reacts. 
He has a general idea of where it is, but the feeling of having your pussy spread out like this on his lips alone is enough to overwhelm him with arousal, to the point he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing. All he can do is taste and smell the mixture of your warmth along with the soap and lotion you must have used before he came here. 
He’s quite literally tasting the entirety of you and loving every second of it. The way his hands grip your legs, both spreading them further open so that he can tilt his head and lick at different angles, and then hugging them to where they almost lock his head in place. 
It feels like he does this for ages, learning your body and what makes your legs shake. He sucks in different places, kissing your entire pussy to the point that it’s almost impossible for your legs not to shake in a reaction at what he’s doing to you.
Dare you say, a man who is inexperienced at eating a woman out somehow feels better than one who knows exactly where to go. 
“Fuck, knew you’d be good at this,” You compliment with a shaky voice, reaching down to his hair and holding his head in place. “Keep licking there, and use your fingers too.” 
He hums without stopping, taking note of where you place his lips and reminding himself that this is the clit, just as suspected. He attaches his lips there, kissing it much like he kissed you in the kitchen. 
You can feel his fingers make their way into you shortly after, each bump of his knuckle sending a delicious sensation throughout your body. You’re tingling from your head to your toes at this point and your face heats up beyond what you thought it would. Your hips move on their own in response, experimentally fucking against his fingers as he keeps his tongue flicking at you. 
“Just like that,” You encourage him, running your hands through his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his head move with each little thrust of your hips is only more arousing in this moment. His eyes half open, watching you, tasting you, almost smiling around your clit when he makes eye contact with you. 
It almost seems like he’s asking if he’s doing well, and goddamn is he. He’s doing amazing.
“So good,” You say shortly, trying to give him the praise he needs while scratching against his scalp as a thank you, still fucking your hips up just to feel his fingers plunge deeper. 
He, on the other hand, is fucking feral right now. Tasting you, dipping his fingers into you, feeling that warmth for the first time, the small clenches— he’s swimming in a fantasy. Every time you move your hips up, he can smell the entirety of you, he can feel your pussy squeeze his fingers, and god. He doesn’t think he ever wants this to end.
All day. He could do this all fucking day. No wonder men make fun of other guys for not giving head. Why wouldn’t they? He can feel your legs tensing up around his head, your gentle fingers running through his hair, the sounds coming from your lips. He’s in love, he’s in love.
He doesn’t stop, tongue flicking your clit so beautifully, fingers slowly fucking in and out of you, not even in time with your jerking hips. Shockingly, you approach orgasm so fucking fast that you can barely warn him, you’re not even thinking when you put pressure on his head, pressing his lips so harshly against your clit— his moan sending a vibration straight through you.
“Faster, with your fingers—“ You choke out in a drawn out and pornographic moan, curling your toes and feeling him do exactly as you say. 
There, you release with his fingers plunging in and out of you, the wet sound of your pussy only sounding more messy by the time you begin to release. In the midst of it all, you feel him pull his lips from your clit and lick around his fingers before coming back up and continuing his ministrations, working you through an orgasm you’re not even sure he knows you’re having right now.
Insane, really, that he needed to taste the messy relief before resuming. 
Strings of curses, little tugs against his hair, legs shaking, all of it happens at once until the feeling of his fingers become sensitive inside of you, until his tongue is flicking a bundle of nerves begging to be left alone. 
You swat him away with a smile, leaning up quickly and grabbing him by the shirt. 
He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on but he laughs with you, being pulled to his feet and falling onto the bed on top of you. You can feel his cock in his pants, so fucking hard, probably leaking and feeling quite neglected.
“Did you…?” He asks softly, dipping his head shyly with his wet chin shining in the light of your room.
You smile at him, leaning up to kiss him square on the mouth before you flip him over and get between his legs. 
“I did,” You laugh in a daze, starting to work on his button and zipper. You’re reeling from the recent orgasm and want nothing more than to let him feel the same way you do right now. “And now, I'm gonna do the same for you.”
He chokes out a nervous laugh, holding your hand in place from pulling his pants down.
“Unless, you don’t want that?” You ask, tilting your head with a bit of a frown.
“N-No!  It’s not that!” He reassures you, cheeks flushing more than they already were. “It’s just that– like, what if I don’t last very long? I’m kind of sensitive.”
His eyes avoid yours when he says it and once again, most adorable man award goes to fucking Jake.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You lean forward, kissing him again. “You just gave me some of the best head in my life.”
The light in his eyes returns and instantly he’s flashing a nervous smile at you. 
“Jake, I’ve never gotten off that fast from being eaten out.” You reassure him again, making a point to use his name loud and clear. “If you don’t get off from me sucking your cock, I might actually cry.” 
Well, he can’t have that now, can he? 
He releases your grip on his jeans, allowing you to pull them down. For some reason unable to look at you despite knowing you’ve seen him jerk off before. It’s the fact that like, what if it’s suddenly not big enough? What if his cock is ugly or curved in a way you don’t like?
Before he can even start to doubt himself more, he feels your lips on the tip and instantly his eyes are looking down at you. You’re the one smiling now, using one hand to hold his base and the other hand already scooping up his balls for added pleasure. 
You make a point to look him in the eye as you let the saliva collect in your mouth when you pull back slightly. There, you let it fall from the tip of your tongue, all the way until you feel the wetness against your fingers wrapped around his base. 
He thinks he’s going to go fucking insane watching you like this, and god, does he. You don’t even show him your struggle of taking in the sheer size of him. Lowering your mouth until you’re taking him in as much as you can. You try to keep eye contact up until you have to close your eyes. 
It’s not shocking that by the point you get half of his length into your mouth, he’s fucking up without full intention and letting out a choked apology. Still, you try to force your stretched lips to smile for him, even through the gag, even through the harsh feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 
How the fuck has a cock this good not been worshiped before? By a mouth? A hand? A pussy? You’ll be damned not to choke on it. You’d rather eat glass than to let him leave this apartment without being completely emptied and praised for every drop. 
He’s actually struggling already not to come, holding himself back but failing each time his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Each time you gag, it stimulates the fuck out of his cock and he nearly wants to cry each time it happens. Even with that other girl who went down on him, she didn’t even attempt to fit this much in her mouth. Most of the pleasure came from her hand jerking him off while she suckled against his head, but you. You’re down there, slipping your mouth up and down on him like that, gagging, tearing up, and still fucking smiling about it. 
He’s in love.
He holds his hands back at least, keeping them against your sheets and gripping them so hard that he fears he’s ripping through them. Everything feels hot, you look hot, you sound hot, your tongue still manages to move against the base of his cock with what little room it does have, and god– your other hand, massaging his balls. 
“Wait, wait wait–” Jake groans, fucking his hips into your mouth once again until you pull off with a concerned look. 
“Were my teeth hurting you?” You ask, gasping a bit for air.
“No!” He heaves out with fluttering lashes, trying to regain sanity. “I was just getting really close.”
“Hm?” You sigh in disappointment, this time going all in at once and not letting yourself stop until he’s releasing into your mouth. 
You feel his shaking fingers brush your cheek when you do it, hollowing it out just to fit more, more, more into your mouth before lapping your tongue against his base again. 
His groaning turns into frantic moans, his hips jerking wildly, unable to escape the clenching muscles of your gagging throat, and he’s honestly in heaven once again. 
“Ah–wait–fuck.” He tries to protest, not wanting to finish so quickly, but there it goes. There he goes.
Never in his life has he felt an orgasm so satisfying. His eyes roll back and his fingers go numb when he releases, pumping himself deep into your throat and not stopping until he’s dizzy. The fact that you kept your mouth on him through it, the fact that he could still feel you gagging, swallowing, and moaning all at once through it– how?
“How–” he takes a breath, pulling you off of him so you can breathe. “How did you do that?”
You shrug with a confident smile, wiping your tears and crawling up to meet his face. 
“I don’t normally do that for guys.” You say with a rasp in your voice. “I certainly don’t just swallow for anyone.”
He feels special, and fucking spent but god does he want to keep going. His softening cock twitching in a relieving way, probably glad to have finally been touched by something other than his own hand. Part of him wonders if you’re done though, because by now you’ve both gotten off and usually that’s the end goal, right?
But he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and when he looks at you hovering above him, he already knows you’re not done with him. 
“We need to let you rest until you can get hard again,” You say, kissing him more easily than before and letting him taste himself, letting you taste yourself mixed with him. “What’s something you wanna do to get you back into the game?”
He sighs out a laugh, fucking amazed that you’re his first. How lucky is that? He thinks hard, watching the way you lift your shirt off of yourself. God, he forgot tits existed for a solid part of this day and that’s a shame because instantly his sensitive cock throbs at the image of them coming into view. 
You watch him stare, trailing your hands down and lifting his shirt off of him as well. 
“I– I don’t even know at this point.” He admits with a stammer, ignoring the fact that his hair is definitely sticking up all over from you taking his shirt off of him.
“I’ll just love on you while you think, then.”
He gives a short nod, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside at the way your gentle hands caress his chest and abs before you start kissing against the muscles and soft skin there.
He relaxes his body, feeling your hands and lips on him. You were right when you said you’d love on him as he thinks about it. The hard part of it is actually thinking about what’s going to get him harder the fastest. You doing this could be enough, but your tits. And fuck, your pussy.
He lets out a whine, one that feels entirely out of character and it causes you to pause your gentle kiss against his nipple and pull back.
“Already?” 
He shakes his head, staring straight at your chest and then down to what's between your legs. 
“I want to, um…” He shifts his eyes away from you. “Can I eat you out again?”
That’s new. Twice in one session?
“Oh yeah? Did that get you going?”
You receive a small nod from him before his hands are reaching out for your tits and warming them up. 
You relax into the feeling of his fingers on your chest only for a moment before you pull back again, this time adjusting yourself onto the bed face down, ass up in front of him. Might as well try a bunch of different positions for him too, right?
“Whenever you’re ready.” You sigh, already grabbing a pillow to hug through this. 
You can feel the bed shift behind you, the weight of his body dipping right behind you before you feel his warm breath against your core. Only now do you realize that you already missed the way he ate you out the first time, you can barely contain yourself knowing he’s going to do it again. 
His hands snake between your legs before his lips get any closer, spreading them before pulling his hand back up and spreading your pussy open with his fingers on his own this time. 
“It’s really the prettiest.” He says in a clear and shaking voice, watching the way your hole pulses at the air that hits it. “And I've watched a lot of porn.”
You’d tell him to shut up, but you’re not gonna because it’s cute how forward he is with his thoughts. If anything, he’s treating you right now by doing this, so he can say whatever he fucking wants right now. 
“Yeah? You just gonna stare at it?” You try to urge him, and it works.
Because of course it works. 
You do your best to contain any rising orgasm, solely because you don’t want to spend yourself before you actually let him inside of you in full. But goddamn, he’s just as eager now as he was the first time…if not more. 
He thinks back to the things he did before, mimicking that and hitting all of the perfect spots without fail. Still, you hold back, pushing and pulling yourself away and toward him just to feel his tongue chase. He eventually holds you in place against him, big hands holding you firmly against his face with a bit of force. And now? He’s licking you deeper than you’ve ever been licked before. It’s a different kind of sensation, and the way he groans into it is entirely too much for you right now. 
You need more, you want more. You want all of him by now, so aroused by every touch, breath, and moan that it’s becoming unbearable to just be eaten out. The thought that he’s doing this to get himself hard again is flooring, and the feeling of his fingers replacing his tongue much like before is intense. 
After just that one time, he knows exactly how to make you cum this way and it’s dangerously attractive to realize that. He goes straight for it too, pulling back to watch his fingers slip into you up to the knuckle. 
He hums out a rumbled moan at the sound of your cunt squelching around his fingers. So wet. More wet than any of the girls in the porn he’s watched for years. You’re dripping around his fingers, and the smacking sound is so fucking arousing to him.
And yeah, he can’t reach your clit with his mouth this time so he thinks hard about how to fix this little dilemma and you’re floored even more by the fact that he solves problems without questioning. You feel his fingers leave you and land on your clit, and right then you feel his tongue again, just as deep, licking into you and all over you. 
The sound of your pussy amplifies when it’s against his tongue, and honestly, he could cum right now if he really wanted to. Already he’s hard again, but god feeling you, hearing you, seeing you like this for him? For some guy who has never once been able to give a girl his all like this? 
He’s so focused on you.
Which for you, is a bit of an issue because he’s really not going to let you hold it in, he’s going to have you fucking unravelling again and it’s too good. Thankfully, when you try to lift to look behind yourself, you take note of his other hand working himself. 
He’s hard again, and god knows how long he’s been doing that. 
You pull your body away from him quickly to let your rising orgasm subside, his protesting moan doing nothing but heating your body up more when you flip over and watch him. 
“You were really just going to get me off again and not try to fuck me yet?”
He looks down at himself and then back at you, smiling and running his hand through his hair. 
“I like doing it, I wanted to see if I could make you–”
“You absolutely could have but I’m going to be honest,” You start, interrupting him and pulling yourself up to crawl over him. “If you’re ready, I’d like to live up to my promise.”
His eyes are much sharper than they were before when you say those words. This is actually it. He would have been perfectly happy just eating you out, getting head himself, or whatever. Over and over again. Any and all of it is better than being in his room alone, but you’re really–
“Really?” He asks, knowing full well the answer.. 
“Lay back, get comfortable,” You instruct with deep breaths, scooting up the bed with him, keeping yourself planted on his legs despite the discomfort. “You still want me to ride you, yeah?”
He nods almost frantically, landing his hands on your tits without hesitation and groping them in a blatant show of how ready he’s managed to get himself for this. 
Not that you want to rush, but you’re so fucking turned on by this point, the only thing you want is to be filled by him. His is cock likely bigger than any you’ve taken before, and to be fair, you don’t even care if you’re the desperate one at this point. You’ve almost forgotten he’s a virgin.
“Wait,” He stops you when you slide over his cock, bare pussy coating his length in a languid grind. “Oh, fuck, wait- no,” He breathes in a sharp breath and grips your hips. ”Do that again.” 
You smile at his frantic thoughts pouring from his lips, sliding against him again, and again, up until he’s leaning forward and attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling against it hard. 
You groan as you grind, feeling the head of his now, fully hard, cock bumping against your previously stimulated clit. He groans with you, almost at the exact same time but continues to try and leave his mark on you. In love with finally getting your tits in his mouth, your pussy on his cock, and most of all, in love with the fact that you’re not laughing at him for any of it. You seem to melt into it much like he does and he can’t help but want to email the creator of that fucking app and personally thank them for this. 
You rub yourself against him until it’s even more unbearable than before. By now, you’ve completely soaked his length and he’s completely soaked your chest in saliva and tiny swollen bite marks. Not that you mind the biting, his little rumbled grow-like moans only made this all the more arousing.
“Ready?” You finally sigh out, deliberately grinding against him slowly now, with almost your entire weight behind the grinds. 
He groans out a “please” before immediately gripping your hips and stopping you. Pulling his head back so hard and so quickly– he kind of forgot to unlatch from your nipple and it sends a sharp pain throughout your body, one that only makes you want to ride him hard. Right now. 
“Hold on, there’s a condom in the pocket of my jeans–”
“Okay, and?” You laugh, sliding forward again and grinding your clit against him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.” 
He looks at you, his sharp eyes falling back into the sparkling doe eyes as his mouth falls open at the very idea that he gets to hit is fucking raw for the first time? 
“Unless you’re lying, and you’re not really a virgin?”
He’s quick to silence your doubt. He’s 100% never had his cock inside of anything other than his own palm and– malfunction. He’s blank again, staring up at you and wincing at the feeling of you pleasuring yourself on top of him. 
“Please?” He manages to get out, gripping your hips so tightly by now that he’s sure it’s hurting you. 
You smile, humming at him when you lift from him, standing on your knees to grab his cock and position him in the right place. 
“You sure you want it too?” You ask, only now realizing that you’re genuinely about to take a man’s virginity, and it’s only fair that you give him one last time to decide if he wants you to take it from him. Despite how turned on you are, and regardless of how badly you want to fuck him, it’s not right to just do it without making him really think about it. 
“Fuck, yes.” His fingers tighten against you, his eyes squeeze shut, and his voice comes out as frantic and quite frankly, a bit annoyed. “Just do it already.” 
You can’t help but smile at him when you do. Lowering yourself slowly on him and feeling the stretch of it. His face is something that you don’t think you’ll ever forget. He appears to be lost in it, eyes rolling back, his chest heaving, his teeth showing through a half-smile as he moans out at the sensation. 
He can’t get over how warm it is inside of you, the constant clenching of your pussy dragging along his entire length. He can’t help it when he moans, he doesn’t care that his voice cracks, or that it sounds like a pathetic sob. 
By the time you bottom out and sit like that for a moment, you almost feel like he’s the one who needs to adjust. Of course, you’re needing this moment to adjust too but god– just watching him makes you that much more wet and it’s insane how into him you are right now. As if you haven’t been since you started talking to him.
“Feels good?” You ask, involuntary clenching around his size, letting out a small sigh yourself at the feeling of his leaking cock inside of you. 
He hums at you and then takes in a deep breath before fully opening his eyes again and looking at you. Technically, he’s no longer a virgin now. It’s fucking happening, and you’re hot? So fucking hot? You feel so good? You smell so good. You sound so fucking good. 
Everything is overwhelmingly good, all he can do now is press his hips up and instantly moan out at the new feeling. 
You take that as an invitation to absolutely obliterate him, much like you knew you would. So, you do. Lifting yourself up and sliding him almost entirely out of you before sinking down again. 
His hands shoot to your waist, then he lifts slightly to grab your ass from behind you, and then he flops himself back– seemingly unable to know what the fuck to do with himself at this feeling. 
You opt to grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his and holding them above his head, all so you can lay chest to chest with him, lips right at his neck. You start kissing, riding him so smoothly and doing nothing but listening to his little sounds that he tries to keep inside. 
“You’re really cute, you know that?” You whisper against his ear, kissing there too before pulling back to look at his face.
That half-smile never leaves his face, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tightly that you actually start to worry that he may break them. Thankfully, he begins to relax after a few minutes. Adjusting to the overwhelming pleasure and now losing himself to the arousal rather than fighting it. 
You nearly squeak when you feel him release your hands and grab your face, pulling you up to him as he kisses you mindlessly. Breathlessly, moaning into your mouth all while moving his own hips now. You can feel him jerk his hips, imagining how he fucked his hand through facetime. This is better than that.
You prop to stand up on your knees, offering him the space to fuck you as hard as he’d like, and god. It’s hard. It’s deep, and it’s so clumsy. No rhythm, no thought behind it at all, you can fucking tell he’s purely running on adrenaline as he plunges into you. 
He’s actually going so hard, that your moans sound more pained than pleasurable, but that’s not the case at all. You actually can’t stop moaning, it’s just the fact that each time he slams into you, your throat lets out a broken sound. 
For a moment, you think you can actually hear him unintentionally growl against your slack lips as he does it. Already he’s lasted longer than you thought he would, especially without a condom, and you’re so fucking impressed by it. 
You slide your hand between your bodies, easily rubbing your own clit and drying out your throat even more with the consistent loud moans of how good he’s doing. After a few moments though, his hips stutter and you take that as a sign that you should take over again.
“I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this to me,” You laugh out of pity for yourself, “I really thought I could last longer than this.”
He barely hears you through his ringing ears and rapid heartbeat, but he chuckles at the compliment. Feeling like he must be doing something right to have a woman say that to him. There’s one issue. He’s about two thrusts from cumming again and he will be damned to ruin this for you. 
You take over, riding him harshly and rubbing your clit even harder. He takes a moment to try and distract himself from how good your pussy feels clenching him and takes it upon himself to bite down hard against his tongue. Something to hurt enough to keep his orgasm from bubbling over, but also not something so awful that he’d lose his arousal entirely. 
You continue, pushing yourself back up from him and watching the way he tries to focus on anything but what’s happening. You ride deliberately to get him off though, knowing that the second he does, you’ll let yourself go too. He doesn’t seem to be picking up the hints. 
“Are you close?” You ask, out of breath and riding him so consistently that it’s becoming more and more difficult to hold your own orgasm. “Let it go, do it with me–”
Instantly, you hear him whimper out a moan as he releases the bite on his tongue. Shooting himself forward and hugging you so tightly that the pressure of your fingers against your clit is entirely unbearable. 
“Oh, god. I’m–” You start, moaning against his hair as he hugs against you.
He’s so fucking relieved, already releasing into you as you say those words. All he can do is breathe through it, feeling your pussy pulse around him as he continues to empty himself into you. 
It’s entirely too intense, his ears popping and heart threatening to send him to a hospital. Never did he think having sex was this intense. 
Little does he know… it’s not. But even you, for some reason, find yourself wondering why the fuck that was so good. 
By the time you pull yourself off of him, both of you wincing and trying to ignore the mixture of cum running down your legs, all you can do is look at him with curiosity. 
He can barely open his eyes to look back at you, but he tries, he really does. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He’s not going home tonight. Of course he’s not. Like, how fucking rude would it be to take his virginity and send him on his way? Absolutely the fuck not.
In fact, you made him some food, wobbling on spent legs throughout the kitchen as he lays on his death bed in your room. (He’s being dramatic.)
All he can do is listen to the sounds of you in the other room and think hard about how he just felt. Physically, it was a lot. Surely if sex is like that all the time, he’d rather not do it as often as Heeseung does. Honestly, his sanity would be at stake. 
But like, you’re kind of amazing. Given, the two of you barely know each other past lame texts and bullying each other. Physically, you know him more than any other woman and that’s a block he didn’t think would be an issue until it became one.
You made him cum twice. And he thinks you did too, unless you’re lying just to make him feel better. There’s no way you didn’t feel the intensity of that though. There’s no way your wobbling legs were lying to him when you got up and told him you wanted to have a snack before bed.
There’s no way you would let him sleep over if you didn’t feel the same way he does right now.
And by the time you’re back, handing him a plate of food, he can’t help but believe that nothing will ever taste as good as you.
The thing is, that’s one of the main reasons you did this. To be praised, to have a man think you’d be the best he will ever have until he eventually meets someone else and they do better than you did. Now though, you feel weird. 
This is a one night stand. A charity-fuck, as it still stands at least. 
“So,” You start, taking a bite of your food still as naked as can be regardless of how stupid it must look to be eating in a cum-soaked bed like this. “I guess you should change your bio in the app now.”
He looks at you, and then at his food.
“Yeah, I guess I should…” 
“I’ll help you fix your age on it. Now that you know what you’re doing with a woman and all.”
It’s silent for a minute.
“Is it too forward if I say that I’d rather just delete the app and keep calling you?”
Thank fuck Jake is forward and embarrassing with it. You’re not ready to give up the single life but on the other hand, after that, you’re not exactly ready to share him with other women just yet either. If he wants to attach himself for a while, you’re going to let him. Purely because, like, look at him. Everything is endearing, and when he’s not being adorable he’s just being fucking hot.
Maybe you will be ready to give up the single life if it’s with Jake. 
You nod with a smile, wondering if he expects you to delete the app too. Because you’re not so sure about that, but also you think you probably would if he asks with those stupid doe eyes. 
Strangely enough, he doesn’t even ask. He just starts eating the food with a content look on his face. Sweat having dried up but left his hair a mess, his skin is glowing– you think…oh no. Why are you looking at him like this?
“Hey, I should probably call Jay and tell him not to come home until late tomorrow or something.”
Jake nods, lifting his eyes to you and watching you take your phone out. 
“I should call my friend too, he told me to let him know when I get my cherry popped.”
You snort at him with a laugh right as Jay answers the phone, and honestly, you’d rather listen to Jake’s friend than Jay whining about having to spend even more time with his overbearing parents. 
“Hey Jay, don’t come home 'til I call you tomorrow, bye.” You say quickly before hanging up. 
Instantly you’re setting your plate on your table and launching yourself at Jake and his phone. 
“Put him on speaker.”
Jake does just that, laughing at Heeseung’s reaction when he hears you speak rather than his best friend over the line. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
4K notes · View notes
yanderenightmare · 4 months
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TW: nsfw, yandere, toxic relationship, friends with benefits, guns, threats of harm and death, name-calling
gn reader
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When you open your heart to your fuck-friend, he sighs with rust.
You still have his cum inside your hole as he tears you a new one—telling you he doesn’t have the fucking time or the fucking energy to deal with lovey-dovey confessions right now—he has enough bullshit on his goddamn plate already without having to consider you and your fucking feelings as well.
If you’re not going to shut up and fuck him, you might as well shut up and fuck off.
So you do. The latter, that is.
Part of you knew it was going to end up this way. You with your heart broken and him with the blood on his hands. But part of you had hoped as well—hoped he felt the same way—hoped your words would soften his edges and wash away all the muck in his head enough to let you in.
You’d read a little too much into those gentle touches he sometimes bestowed upon you in his weaker moments—that soft way he cried when holding onto you during the night, wordless and clingy and begging you not to go.
But the more you think about it, the less you understand why your heart aches. It doesn’t really make much sense after all…
In truth, he’s an asshole. Always been. And you deserve better.
He’s always so angry. Always on something mudding up his blood. Never with anything nice to say. It doesn’t really matter how you’d held him in his nightmares or patched him up when he’d stumbled through your door drunk and bloody. 
Scarred boys in need of fixing aren’t good for your health—especially when all they have to offer you in return are callous words of rejection.
He’d always been secretive. He wasn’t a very good lover—but you're not entirely sure if he was ever even a good man. The wounds he’d dreg to your apartment in the middle of the night always left blood on your sheets. He never agreed to go to the hospital—always insisted your first-aid kit was enough, even when he'd come to you with bullets you’d have to dig out with a pair of tweezers.
You realize he’d been using you. You were convenient and stopped being convenient the minute you wanted more—and upon the realization, you move on.
And then he comes crawling back…
Shivering in the rain like a beaten street mutt—looking starved and sick like one, too. There’s blood on his shirt and a grim darkness in his eyes. He tells you to let him in, and you only barely have the guts to tell him to go away. 
He has this tortured look on his face—as though something’s your fault, as though you’ve wronged him in some way, as though you’re the reason he’s out in the cold with nowhere to go.
Barging in and slamming the door behind him—he locks it and pockets the key—ignoring your questions as you ask him what the fuck’s gotten into him. He looks deranged—water dripping from his matted bangs, eyes reddened, and cheeks streaked. You only now notice it isn't because of the rain.
“You said you wanted me, didn’t you?” he huffs. “Here I am.”
You’re tense. You hadn’t felt like that with him before, it takes you a minute to realize it’s because you’re scared. After all, you’d wanted him all those other times—rough or otherwise. And now you didn’t want him at all. 
“You should leave. You’ve been drinking.”
“What? You changed your mind already?” he accused, then scoffed with a not-so-unamused laugh. “I’m not surprised. People like you, who like danger and bad men, are always so fickle-hearted.” He approaches you too fast for you to back away, his scarred hands curling into your sweater—split skin from recent beatings bleed onto the fabric. “Flighty little slut, you’ve probably already found the next guy who gives you a rush. Isn’t that right?” He’s seething as he pulls you forward, looking like a hostile hound.
You lay your hands on his chest to keep him at a distance—feeling his entire body shake like static beneath your touch. You wonder if he’s taken drugs tonight, but looking into his eyes, you don’t think so. They aren’t fidgety but deadset. Actually, upon closer look, you don’t even think he’s drunk.
But anyway, it doesn’t really matter. You still don’t want him here. “I’m serious. Get out, or I’m calling the police.”
“Oh? Are we slinging threats now?” he jeers, showing no signs of letting go or leaving—he only pulls you in closer, so close you could kiss. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared now.” He breathes out another short excuse for a laugh as you veer away, putting his lips to your ear instead. “You should have been from the start—but no—grinding up on me at the club as though you’d die without my attention. Crying pretty tears when you saw me all beaten and bruised—acting as though you want to save me. Tch—”
He throws you down on the carpeted floor. You wince from the impact, and when you look up again, you see he has a gun pointed at you.
You stop breathing. A dark sinkhole in your gut seems to want to swallow you from the inside, and you think you might just want it to if it means escaping the threat before you.
“I shouldn't have come here…” he mutters—finger resting on the trigger all too calmy. “But I just couldn’t get your face out of my head. Looking up at me with those doe-eyes, wearing my shirt even though it’s got blood on it after I fuck you silly, saying such sweet little nothings as if I’d paid you to.”
He sighs—heavily—as though he’s expelling spirits. His hand remains holding the gun poised and pointed straight down at you even as the other drags down his face, pulling his maw before sliding through his wet locks, raking them away from his face.
“I gotta kill you, you know?” he says, shoulders slumping with the statement. He sniffs—it's almost soft enough to be a sniffle. “That’s the only way to solve this. That’s the only way to get you out of my fucking head.”
He cocks the safety with a click that makes your life flash before your eyes. Faces of your family and friends, people you haven't seen in years, childhood pets long dead, a job interview, the holiday you felt true happiness, the night you went out dancing and met him.
The tears stream silently down your face, and you still don’t breathe. Every part of you, every nerve and muscle, has gone completely still. Unmoving, unblinking as you stare up through the barrel of the gun and wait for the bullet to come through.
His finger curls tighter around the trigger, and you close your eyes with a furl between your brows. And then…
Nothing. There’s a large exhale.
“I can’t do it…” 
You open your eyes to see the gun lowered. The sight brings a fresh rush of air back to your lungs, making you all but wheeze as it fills you, breathing in far too much and much too quickly. You regain some semblance worth of motoric, too—able to scramble backward until there’s no more room to be gained, sitting with your back against the wall. Eyes peeled at him where he’s taken to crouch, holding his head with his free hand and the one still with the gun in it.
He fists his hair and tugs on it frustratedly, muttering to himself. “Dozens of lives on my hands, and I can't kill this one single-” he stopped short.
This time, when he looks at you, there’s something else in his eyes. No malice or scorn, but something sad—pity almost.
“Well… seems like you got what you wanted...”
The pity’s for you.
“This is what having my heart feels like.”
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♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Toji ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
3K notes · View notes
trumanbluee · 2 months
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you're the one that i want - deadpool / wade wilson
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minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!
please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩
based on this request! <3
content: three words, baby! the honda odyssey!
word count: 2.5k
warnings: established relationship, no mention of condom (wrap it b4 u tap it!), petnames galore, deadpool is a warning in of himself lol.
a/n: the deadpool brainrot has been so strong recently so thank u guys so much for all ur requests! my return to my deadpool era couldn't have come at a worse time with my exams happening rn but i will try and write as much as i can! love you!
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You'd been sitting in the backseat of the "fuck-ass Honda Odyssey", as Wade had described it, arm resting on the centre console, your head propped up on your palm lamely as you turn it left to right, half-listening to Wade and Logan argue like you're at a tennis match.
You'd almost flown forward into the front of the car when it came to an abrupt stop, tyres screeching as you let out a soft yelp in surprise. Wade hears you, and wordlessly pushes you back softly. You'd heard something spat out from Logan, along the lines of "You'll never save the fucking world!", followed by Wade's voice saying, "I'm gonna fight you now." and then the sound of a sickening crunch as he punches Logan in the nose.
It's milliseconds before you see your boyfriend's arm reach back and open your door, gently ushering you out with a soft, "Why don't you go for a walk, pretty girl?"
You know better than to argue, especially with Logan seething in the front seat, so you hop out of the car, shutting the door behind you as you trudge off into the trees, half grateful for being kicked out of the car so you didn't have to listen to Logan's grumbles when you inevitably had to ask him to pull over so you could pee.
You could hear the yelling and grunting in the distance, shaking your head as you hear the faint shatter of glass, followed by a - less than masculine - squeal from your boyfriend. You laughed to yourself, not worried in the slightest as you hear the fighting between the two, Logan's growls echoing through the trees as he squelches his claws into your boyfriend's stomach.
You'd told Wade to give Logan a break, and that eventually he would find out about his 'educated wish', but he hadn't listened, instead continuing to push and push and push Logan until, expectedly, he reached his breaking point.
You wandered around amongst the trees for a while, before slumping against a tree not too far from the car, your eyes growing heavy as you listened to the soft rustle of the leaves above you.
You wake up groggily, looking around the room as you rub sleep from your eyes. You startle when a red suit appears in front of you, but it's not the Deadpool suit that you're all too familiar with.
"I'm Elektra, that's Gambit," the woman points to a man in a helmet, who's stood in the corner, playing with cards, "and that's Blade," she points over her shoulder with her thumb to the man in a long, leather trench-coat.
"I.. uhm.. Hi?" you say, taken aback by this sudden bombardment of strangers.
"We're helping you and your friends get out of the void." Elektra explains, offering her hand to help you stand up. You take it gratefully.
"...Oh, cool..." you say, still groggy from being asleep for so long. "..are.. are they around?"
Elektra nods, pointing outside with her head, "Yellow's by the fire, Red's... around here somewhere."
You nod, thanking her and smiling awkwardly at Blade and Gambit as you walk outside, the smoke from the fire consuming your nostrils as you step out. You spot Logan by the fire, but see that he's sitting with someone.
'She looks an awful lot like that X-23 girl we saw at the TVA.' you think, not ruling out the possibility that it is her with the level of weirdness that had already occurred during your short time in the void. You tread on, looking around before you spot the Honda Odyssey. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you walk to the drivers door of the car, opening it to reveal your boyfriend in the back-seat, pulling his katana's out of the passenger's seat next to you as you plop into the driver's seat.
He looks up when he hears the car door open, and the white eyes of his mask visible soften as he sees you.
"Hey baby," he coos, scooching forward in the back-seat to press a soft kiss to your cheek through his mask as you sit in the driver's seat, peeking over the headrest to look back at him, "was wonderin' when you were gonna wake up, sleepy head."
You smile softly, before taking a moment to look around at the damage done to the car. Your eyes go wide and your hand flies to your mouth, the other reaching back to swat at Wade's shoulder.
"Wade! What the fuck did you two get up to in here? Jesus Christ!"
You hear a whisper of 'Baby Knife!' followed by a soft grunt as Wade pockets another one of his knives.
"Just some good ol' fashioned fightin', baby! I'm kinda sad you missed it, that shit got good!"
You tut, leaning around the driver's seat to look at him as he's hunched over, digging for another one of his knives beneath the seat.
You hear him mumble something along the lines of 'Hate this fuckin' car' before he shoots up, and you can sense his smile through the mask. He leans back in the seats that are in the very back of the car, right leg thrown over one seat, with his other leg spread, suit-clad knee pressing into the fabric of the other. His eyes sharpen as he looks at you, before groaning softly, throwing his head back in a circle, and sighing.
"Fuck, princess, that fightin's gotten me all worked up," he groans, chin pressed to the top of his chest as he looks at you, eyes narrowed.
You feel your thighs rub together at the way he looks at you, the manspreading the cherry on top of a very, very, delicious looking dessert. He chuckles, gesturing to your thighs with his head.
"Saw that, baby." He laughs to himself before he lifts his hand, beckoning you to him with two fingers, his other hand resting on the headrest of the seat in front of him, twiddling Baby Knife between his fingers.
You squirm in your seat before not so agilely climbing over the centre console, crawling over the seat and onto Wade’s lap. He pockets Baby Knife, bringing a hand up to pull the bottom of his mask up, the other settling on your ass as you straddle his waist. 
“Hey doll-face,” he murmurs, smiling and giving your ass a playful squeeze, pulling his mask fully off before placing his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you into a kiss. 
You moan against his lips as you kiss back, his gloved hand giving your ass a firmer squeeze. Wade uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips as you gasp into his mouth. Your hips grind down subconsciously and he pulls away from the kiss, both of your chests rising quickly as you both try and regain your breath from the heated kiss. 
Wade smirks up at you, moving both of his hands to your hips, squeezing softly, pulling a giggle from your lips before he’s engulfing them in another breathless kiss. He moves your hips with his hands, grinding you down on his boner as it tents in his suit, causing him to buck up absentmindedly as he groans into your mouth. Your breathy whimpers vibrate against his lips, and he pulls away, leaning his head back against the headrest behind him. 
“…Fuck, doll-face,” he groans, looking up at you, “ look what you're fuckin’ do to me, baby.” 
He nods down to his dick, almost bursting out of his suit, and your mouth nearly drops open. Wade thinks to himself that if you were in an animé, you’d have heart emojis bulging from your eyes. 
He takes his hands off your hips, crossing his arms behind his head in faux-laziness as he watches you undo the buckle of his belt, slapping the sides of his legs softly, signalling for him to lift his hips. 
“Watch it, doll-face.” Wade warns, half-joking, “Ask me nicely, please.” 
You groan, giving him your ‘are-you-fucking-serious-right-now’ glare as you tug at his belt. He’d been on the receiving end of this look many times in the past, so he’s unfazed as he chuckles dryly, planting his hips down.
 “I can wait, Princess.” 
You roll your eyes, huffing. “Please, Wade,” you glare at him, “Will you please lift your hips up so I can get your dick out?” 
You add a pout and a flutter of your lashes at the end, and his resolve noticeably crumbles. He huffs, lifting his hips up off the car seat just enough for you to pull down his pants slightly. You dip your hand into his underwear, giving his dick a soft tug before freeing it from the tight pants of his Deadpool suit. 
You gather some spit in your mouth, looking at your boyfriend through your lashes before spitting onto the tip of his cock, using your hand to spread it along his length, squeezing softly around the base. Wade groans from below you, his hips bucking into your hand.
“Fuck, hotstuff, ya’ killin’ me here.” 
Wade hisses as you squeeze a bit harder around his dick, the pretty ring he’d proposed to you with cold against his skin. 
He almost whines, stopping himself by biting his lip, “Oh, c’mon baby, what’d I do to deserve this teasin’, huh? I fought so valiantly against ol’ Wolvie, didn’t I, princess? Don’t I deserve to be treated nicely?” 
Something about the whiny-ness of his tone sends a pang to your heart, and pussy, and you grind down against his thigh absentmindedly before putting both your hands on his shoulders. 
“Help me out, would ya’, Wadey?” you ask sweetly, shimmying your hips slightly to gain his attention. 
His hands fly to your tights, tugging them down your thighs, lifting your legs softly, one by one, and peeling your pants off, leaving you hovering above him in your prettiest pair of panties. You’d been wearing them as a birthday surprise for him, but you’d both been snagged by the TVA before you could put them to good use… until now. 
Wade’s breath hitches from beneath you as his eyes land on your panties, his lower lip bitten between his teeth as his chest heaves. 
“Fuck, doll-face, what’re you all dressed up for?” he says, tracing a gloved hand over the lacy hem of your white panties, pressing a soft kiss to the little blue bow in the middle, before blowing a puff of cool air onto the damp spot beneath it. 
Your legs wobble softly and a shiver runs up your spine, leaving you grateful for your hands planted on your boyfriend's broad shoulders. 
You muster the breath to say, “They’re for you, baby… Well, they were for your birthday…”
He groans softly, pressing a soft kiss to your mound before pushing the thin fabric to the side, swiping a gloved finger through your slick. 
“Shit, baby.. Y’so wet f’me,” he says, voice breathless. “Fuck those stupid fucking day players, keeping my beautiful fiance, and her beautiful fucking panties from me on my birthday. What assholes, hey baby?” He says, pressing his thumb to your clit harshly as he blows another puff of air onto your slick pussy, causing your hips to buck into the air. 
You whine softly, bringing a hand to pump Wade’s cock once again, nodding mindlessly at his question that he knows you didn’t even hear. 
Wade chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest and shooting straight to your cunt, your thighs squeezing around his hand as he thumbs your clit lazily. 
You shuffle yourself forward on his lap, holding onto Wade’s strong shoulder with your hand, the other slowly pumping his cock as you lift yourself up, breathing hitching as you push yourself down onto the tip of Wade’s dick. 
His breath hitches beneath you, rubbing soothing circles on your hips through his gloves as you sink down onto him. His hands grip your hips tighter as he bottoms out, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamp down on his length. 
“Shit, baby, I could blow my load right now.” Wade gasps, head thrown back as his grip tightens on your hips, moving you up and down on his cock. You follow suit with his movements, digging your nails into the fabric of his suit as you leverage yourself on his shoulders, pushing yourself up and slamming yourself down on his cock, a moan slipping from your lips at every drag of his dick along your walls. 
Your hips stutter slightly, and Wade takes this as his cue, moving his hands from your hips to gain a strong grip on your ass, lifting you up and slamming his hips to meet yours. You whine softly, eyebrows knitting together and biting your lip as the soft squelch of your wetness reverberates around the car, your chest heaving with exertion, skin dewy with a thin sheen of sweat. 
You throw your head back, moaning wantonly, one hand coming off of Wade’s shoulder and pressing against the roof of the car. 
“...Shit…Wade!” you stammer as he moves one hand to your lower stomach, his thumb pressing harshly on your clit through his glove.
You slam your hips down to meet Wade's quicker, chasing your high as Wade slams his hips up to meet yours, his head thrown back against the head-rest behind him, eyes closed, as he groans softly.
"C'mon, doll-face," Wade grunts from beneath you, rubbing cruel circles on your clit as he bucks into you, "...y'gonna cum? Can feel you squeezing around me, princess."
You moan softly, babbling something like a 'uh-huh' as your eyebrows knit together, eyes shutting tight as you feel the coil building in your lower belly, threatening to snap any moment.
Wade feels you clamping around him, looking up and watching as you throw your head back, your grip on his shoulder tightening.
"That's it, baby," he groans from under you, pinching at your clit meanly causing you to whimper softly, your head coming forward, forehead resting against his as you grind down onto his cock.
"C'mon, hotstuff, give it to me..." he grunts, feeling his own orgasm coming as you clench down on him like a vice, a string of curse words sputtering from your lips as he feels you gush around him.
"...Shit, baby... Good girl," he coos, fucking you through your orgasm as he cums, soft grunts sounding in your ear as he bucks into you before stilling, stopping the movements of his thumb on your clit, as he lifts you up gently and pulls out. He pulls his hand away from your clit, but not before collecting a part of the mixture of yours and his cum on his gloved fingers, pushing it slowly back in to your drooling pussy. You whine, overstimulated, and he tuts, pushing your panties back into place and pulling your pants back up your legs, leaning back in the seat as you slump against his chest.
He smiles, giving your bum a soft pat and pressing a kiss to your hairline, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I lied, doll-face, the Honda Odyssey fucks, hard.”
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©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!
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girlbeyondthegrave · 26 days
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THINGS I NOTICED WHILE WATCHING BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE AGAIN:
This is a very Beetlebabes-centric post, so if you don’t like the ship, please feel free to scroll away. <3
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Beetlejuice cut Delores’ ring finger off, and while it was originally a fun joke in the first movie, there’s deep implications about that action when we look at it with the context of the second film. Beetlejuice attacked her after she betrayed him. Anyone would want to kill the person that poisoned them, but the fact that he took the time to find her finger and deliberately cut her ring finger off (and ONLY that finger) reflects how much that marriage meant to him. It also symbolizes that he’s effectively dissolving their marriage. He’s cut off the physical representation of their love and taken the ring, which he tries to give to Lydia hundreds of years later. He held onto that ring for centuries in hopes of finding someone he deemed worthy of it.
He calls his dynamic with Lydia a long-distance relationship, which could’ve been a throwaway joke if not for the fact that when he clearly notices how hot Janet is, he never talks to her or gropes her like he did with Barbara prior to meeting Lydia. Keaton said BJ wouldn’t be politically correct, so this isn’t to reflect the current political climate, but rather to reflect BJ’s motivations.
Beetlejuice was jobless at the start of the first movie, and in thirty years he’s built a company for his bio-exorcisms. Coupled with the picture of Lydia on his desk, it’s possible he did this to impress her. After all, she’s famous and rich now. BJ’s gotta step it up, y’know?
Probably overheard the convo between Lydia and Rory and deliberately bugged her at that time, because if he can possess the phone or whatever, he can probably use it to eavesdrop. This can be further supported by how he got rid of the influencers but kept the people that mattered to Lydia present—Delia and Astrid.
We can also assume he overheard the conversation where Lydia said that Rory loves her and that has to be enough because of the panning to a gravestone. BJ has a special fascination with graveyards, even tiny model ones. If he did overhear them, it explains why he used the truth serum on Rory. He’s testing him. He wants to see if this guy actually loves Lydia or if he’s using her, and then he gives Lydia the means to exact revenge on Rory rather than doing anything himself.
Lydia spends half the movie being strong -armed into a marriage with Rory, and in a way, it’s reminiscent of the first movie’s marriage attempt. Rory dangles their “love” in front of her like a carrot, and if she doesn’t want to be alone, she has to accept his manipulation and agree to get married. Yet she immediately offers it to Beetlejuice, only sounding annoyed rather than terrified. And the movie spends a lot of time proving that BJ has sincere motives this time around, whereas Rory doesn’t. It pushes an underlying message that if one of these guys is going to be a better choice, it’ll be BJ.
Despite Lydia having a tendency to back out of their deals, he still helps her first. He prioritizes saving Astrid even before finding his “runaway bride” again.
Casually calls Lydia the love of his life, looks so sincere when he says he’ll make her so happy. Clearly spent those 30 years planning that dream-dance sequence.
He doesn’t seem to care that Lydia’s sending him away. That coupled with the end scene illustrates how confident he is this time around. Lydia is still stuck with him, and even if he didn’t get her this time, he will eventually. But he also knows how spooked she is by marriage after being a snoop, so it’s possible that he’s just taking it slow on purpose.
In conclusion: Beetlejuice genuinely does want to be with Lydia and care about her. His feelings have evolved beyond permanent residence in the mortal world. If anything, if he still wants that, it’s so he can be by her side.
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sistertotheknowitall · 2 months
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Some guy gets arrested
Inspired by @medium-sized-ghost addition to the Original Post.
Masterpost
“So sorry about this, Mr. Wayne.”
“No, I understand. I’m just glad to see the law doing their job so well.” Bruce continues pleasantly through the police station with Commissioner Gordon leading the way.
“We’ll get this sorted out as soon as possible, but in the meantime you will need to unfortunately be placed in holding.”
“Of course. It’s really no problem, it was my mistake missing my court date like that. Time just gets away from me sometimes, you know?” Nevermind the fact that Bruce hadn’t even known about said court date or the speeding ticket it was for. He couldn’t prove which child had taken his car for a joy ride, but his prime suspects were Jason or Dick. (He would later find out that it was Stephanie upon a dare from Duke. He already attempted to banned them from playing Truth or Dare after Tim convinced Dick to do a handstand on Jason’s bike going 95 down the freeway. Not that Dick really needed any convincing.)
“Well you’re in luck, one cell is mostly empty.” It was a small cell closer to the front. Bruce could see a teenager laying on the bench to the right. Gordon opened the door and stood to the side so Bruce could enter and locked the door behind him. “Would you like anything to drink? Water? Coffee?”
Bruce smiled, “No, thank you.” Gordon nodded and looked past Bruce at the only other occupant in the cell, “What about you kid? Anything?”
Bruce watched as the kid, one he unfortunately recognized, lifted his arm from where it was thrown over his eyes and waved it in the air at the commissioner, “I’m good.” The arm went back down. Gordon grunted, “alright Officer Mitchell is keeping watch, call out if either of you need anything.”
With that Bruce was left alone with the boy who had befuddled and befriended his many children. He sat on the opposite bench and thought about how best to approach the young man. Danny had never responded well to Batman and there was no telling how he would respond to Bruce. According to Tim, Danny actually had some respect for Bruce and the money he dumped into bettering Gotham. (When it was announced that the public library was being renovated Danny had interrogated Tim about it and then offered his own opinions on how to involve more of the general population.)
Bruce didn’t think the time called for his “Brucie” persona and he couldn’t be Batman at the moment. He could approach the boy in a “fatherly” manner but that approach rarely worked on his own kids, he didn’t think it would work on this one.
“Have you called anyone?”
Danny looked out from under his arm and stared at Bruce suspiciously. In hindsight it was a creepy question.
Bruce brought his hands up and breathed a laugh, “I’m sorry, I meant have you been given your one phone call?” Danny didn’t move. “Why? You a lawyer?” He eyed Bruce in his nice suit and watch.
Bruce smiled at the boy, “goodness no, I don’t have the attention span for law school. I actually did pre-med before dropping out.”
Danny seemed too curl a little more into himself. It was the most cautious Bruce had ever seen him. He was locked in a Gotham police cell with a man in an expensive suit who seemed completely unconcerned about being arrested, it was wise on Danny’s part to be wary.
Bruce stuck out his hand, “Bruce Wayne.” Slowly, Danny sat up and crossed his arm scoffing, “why would Bruce Wayne be in a holding cell?” Bruce continued to smile at the kid and shrugged, his hand still in the air, “speeding ticket I’m afraid, missed my court date. I do have to say, though, the updated traffic cameras are a good investment by the police department.” “Wayne Enterprises payed for them.” “We did?” Bruce asked, knowing full well it was to give Oracle better camera footage. “You were at the press release.” “Huh.” Bruce looked thoughtful for a minute, “mm no, not ringing any bells. I go to so many of those press conferences, they just bleed together after a while.” “Mhm.” Danny still didn’t take the offered hand. Bruce sighed and let it drop back to his lap, “I’d offer to show you my ID but I don’t exactly have it on me.”
They sat and watched each other for a minute. Danny shifted and seemed to make a decision, “I work at a coffee shop and one of your sons is a regular.” Bruce slapped his thigh as if a light bulb suddenly went off, “You’re Danny! Tim’s mentioned you! You know he’s the only one with a weakness for caffeine, the others like to tease him but I don’t think he has an addiction. However, he does seem to spend a lot of time at that shop.” Bruce leaned forward as if confiding a secret, “to be honest, I think he has a bit of a crush on you.”
Dropping his own arms, Danny sighed. “Yeah, he’s not really that subtle.”
“No, I’m afraid he’s never been good at that. At least not when he’s interested in someone.” Tim was great at subtlety when it came to the mission but never in his personal life. The funny part was he didn’t even draw that distinction on purpose.
“I called a family friend. To answer your question. He should be here soon.” Bruce nodded, “so you do have people you can rely on in town?” “I could have a whole family I can rely on in this city.” Danny said, catching the older man's slip. He shifts further in his seat and stared hard at Bruce.
Bruce knew Danny had no one in town. He did the background check, Danny's whole family lived in Ohio with the exception of his older sister who was in one of the top psychology programs in the country. They seemed to visit each other often but rarely their parents.
The older man dawned an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, I assumed when you said ‘a family friend’.” Bruce leaned back against the wall behind him, “are you from Gotham?”
“No,” Danny shifted further back in his seat and didn’t take his eyes off Bruce.
It was different from how the boy interacted with Batman. To the billionaires alter ego Danny was defiant and outspoken. He always seemed to say what was on his mind, completely uncaring of the audience he had.
——-
“Mr. Fenton, your god-father is here for you.”
Danny never thought he’d feel this relieved to know Vlad was picking him up. While Mr. Wayne had been nothing but polite, something about the man felt off. Danny also didn’t appreciate the questions. What was it to this man if Danny had family near by or not?
One of the cops opens the door with Vlad in his nice suit and overly polished shoes right behind him.
“Daniel, let’s not make this a habit.”
“I was just feeding the homeless dogs!”
“Strays.” Vlad corrected, “while trespassing?”
Danny rolled his eyes and continued pass his “uncle”.
“How am I supposed to know an abandoned building is considered ‘private property’?”
Vlad just sighed.
——
Bonus:
Stephanie would continue to stick to her story, thank you very much. She had every right to punch the creep and she wasn’t backing down. Not even if “the creep” was apparently the son of a very influential prosecutor. A corrupt one, but he was influential nonetheless. Such is the justice system in Gotham.
Even if it landed her in a police station, handcuffed to a desk while said creep cried about the bloody nose she gave him.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, she crossed her legs and continued to glare at the door way that led to the holding cells. It was her night off and she still had to deal with this godforsaken city’s degenerate citizens. God forbid she have a day off.
It was while glaring at said door that Steph noticed a familiar boy walking out with a gentleman she wasn’t familiar with. He was a little behind Danny but reached out and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him just before leaving the hallway. Steph slid her gaze away but kept her ears open, grateful she was close enough to hear.
“You need to be more careful, Daniel.”
Danny didn’t respond and Steph looked over to see him pull his shoulder away and start walking again.
“You didn’t have to come all this way to bail me out. I could have called Jazz or Sam.”
“Nonsense, it’s good to get out of Wisconsin.”
Steph wrinkled her nose, Wisconsin? The pair continued out of ear shot and shortly out of the station.
When Bruce was released a few minutes later, Stephanie smiled and took great joy in his obvious (to any member of his family) despair and exasperation at seeing her.
Part 8
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d1stalker · 2 months
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I Want You [Logan Howlett]
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Summary: Logan is jealous of you and Scott's friendship, not knowing your true feelings.
Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only please. fem/afab!reader. brief argument, logan being stubborn comme d'hab, making out, oral, riding, you get the idea ;)
WC: 2.9k - MASTERLIST
The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the X-Mansion grounds. You find yourself on the patio, leaning against the railing, watching as the last rays of sunlight dip below the trees. The tranquility of the moment is soothing, a brief escape from the chaos that often fills your days.
Your mind drifts to earlier that day, when you and Scott had been working together in the training room. He's always been a good friend—someone you can rely on when you need advice or a steady hand in a crisis. Scott had patiently helped you fine-tune your abilities, offering encouragement and constructive feedback.
"You're really getting the hang of it," Scott had said with a smile as you both took a break, sitting on the edge of the training mat. "I'm impressed."
"Thanks, Scott," you had replied, grateful for his support. "Couldn't have done it without your help."
He had shrugged, a modest grin on his face. "We make a good team. It's nice to have someone who gets it, you know?"
You had nodded, feeling the warmth of genuine friendship between you. Scott was like the brother you never had, someone who understood the challenges you faced and never judged you for them.
The sound of heavy footsteps approaching breaks your reverie. You recognize them immediately—Logan.
"You and Summers seem to be gettin' pretty close."
You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow at his accusatory tone. "Scott? We're just friends, Logan. You know that."
He crosses his arms over his chest, scowl deepening. "Doesn't look like it from where I'm standin'."
Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you can’t help but let it spill over. "And where exactly are you standing? Lurking in the shadows, jumping to conclusions?"
His eyes narrow, jaw clenching. "I'm just callin' it like I see it."
"You don't see anything," you retort, matching his intensity. "You're too busy looking for problems that aren't there."
He steps closer, his presence imposing but familiar. "I see the way he looks at you."
You roll your eyes, exasperated. "And how do I look at him, Logan?"
"Like he hung the damn moon," Logan mutters, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.
"That's rich coming from the guy who's too stubborn to see what's right in front of him," you snap back, heart pounding.
He pauses, taken aback by your words. "What do you mean by that?"
You take a deep breath, the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you. "I mean, I'm not in love with Scott. I'm in love with you. But you're too busy being jealous and stubborn to notice."
He blinks, surprise flickering across his features. His defenses falter for a moment, and you see the real him beneath the rugged exterior. "Me? Why the hell would you—"
"Because you're you, Logan," you interrupt, voice softer now. "You're gruff and infuriating, but you're also brave and kind. You see through the facade I put up, and you make me want to be better."
He looks at you, his hardened exterior cracking. "I thought I wasn't good enough for you,” he says, quietly. 
You step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. The contact is electric, as always, grounding both of you in the moment. "You don't get to decide that for me. I've made my choice."
He stares at you, a mix of disbelief and longing in his eyes. "All this time... and I was just bein' a damn fool."
"Yeah, you were,” you say with a smile, the tension between you dissipating. 
Logan lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. "Guess I should apologize for actin' like a jerk, huh?"
You nod, teasingly. "That would be a good start."
He takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that makes your heart race. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I was stupid, and I let my jealousy get the best of me."
You smile, feeling the last remnants of your anger melt away. "Apology accepted, but you're gonna have to make it up to me."
Tthe familiar glint returns to his eyes as he smirks. "Oh, I will. Count on it."
A comfortable silence falls between you. The night air is cool and refreshing, and you can hear the distant sounds of laughter from inside the mansion.
"Why didn’t you ever say anything?" Logan asks, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.
"I guess I was scared," you admit. "Scared of ruining what we have, of pushing you away. You’re not exactly easy to read."
He chuckles softly. "Yeah, well, you're not the only one who’s scared. I’m not good at this...feelin’ stuff. Always thought it’d get in the way."
"It doesn’t have to," you say, hoping your words convey the sincerity you feel. "You don’t have to do this alone, Logan. We can figure it out together."
He nods, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. You share a moment of quiet understanding. For once, there’s no need for words. You both know what this means.
"Come on," Logan says suddenly, breaking the silence. "Let’s get outta here for a while."
"Where to?" you ask, curiosity piqued.
There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he shrugs. "Anywhere but here. I hear there’s a nice little spot by the lake where the stars look like they’re close enough to touch."
You laugh, "Alright, lead the way.”
---
The walk to the lake is peaceful, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The sound of your footsteps on the gravel path blends with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. You and Logan walk side by side, your fingers occasionally brushing against each other, only feeding the tension that seems to be growing as each moment passes.
When you reach the lake, the water shimmers under the starlight, a breathtaking view that makes you catch your breath. Logan finds a spot on the grassy bank, and you settle down beside him, lying back to gaze up at the sky.
"It's beautiful here," you whisper, feeling the tranquility of the moment seep into your bones.
Logan nods, his gaze fixed on you instead of the stars. "Yeah, it is."
His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It's a comforting sound, grounding you in the reality of this moment.
You tilt your head up to look at him, meeting his eyes. There's a softness there that you haven't seen before, a vulnerability that makes your heart swell. "I've wanted this for a long time, Logan."
He smiles, a rare and genuine expression that lights up his features. "Me too. Guess I was too stubborn to admit it."
You chuckle softly, reaching up to trace your fingers along the line of his jaw. "I like this side of you."
He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he's not careful. The world around you fades away as Logan leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It's slow and tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but quickly deepens into something more urgent and heated.
You shift closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly as his hand slides up your back, pulling you even closer. Your fingers weave into his hair, anchoring yourself as the kiss intensifies, leaving you breathless.
Breaking away briefly, his forehead rests against yours as he catches his breath. "You sure about this?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
You nod, your own breath coming in short gasps. "Absolutely."
With a growl of approval, Logan captures your lips again, the kiss filled with a hunger that leaves you dizzy. He shifts, pulling you with him as he rolls onto his back, guiding you to straddle his hips. His hand traces down your side, sending shivers of anticipation through you. The world around you feels distant and unimportant, the only thing that matters is the man with you and the way he makes you feel.  
As the kiss deepens, you lose yourself in the moment, the passion and intensity of it all consuming you. Slowly, you rock back and forth, grinding your hot core against his growing bulge. Something akin to a growl releases from his throat, as his hands tighten their grip on you.
Breaking the kiss, Logan trails his lips down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin. You tilt your head back, allowing him to continue his journey, savouring the sensation of his mouth against you. He hooks his fingers into the hem of your shirt, pausing to look up at you. With deliberate slowness, he slides your shirt up and over your head, discarding it with a flick of his wrist. He takes a moment to admire you, his hands tracing the curves of your waist with a gentle reverence.
“Wow,” he breathes, his voice rough with emotion. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
His eyes roam over you appreciatively, lingering on your bare skin. His words and gaze make your heart race and heat flood your cheeks.
“Says you,” you murmur, feeling a heady mix of vulnerability and desire under his gaze.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispers, flipping you over so you’re now on your back as he hovers above you. “I’ve thought about this moment more times than I can count.”
He begins to kiss the valley between your breasts, hands never ceasing their exploration of your body. Your grasp finds the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest. Your fingers trace over his muscles, delighting in the way they ripple beneath your touch.
Logan grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he moves even lower, his kisses trailing down your stomach. Each touch is electric, leaving a path of heat in its wake. His fingers find the waistband of your pants, slowly sliding them down your legs. With your pants discarded, Logan settles himself between your thighs, his hands gently parting them to make room for himself. His touch is firm yet gentle, and you shiver in anticipation as he leans in, his breath warm against your most sensitive skin.
He starts with soft kisses along your inner thighs, teasing you with his lips and the occasional scrape of his teeth. The feeling sends a thrill through you, making your heart race and your body ache for more. Finally, Logan focuses his attention on your centre, his mouth moving with expert precision as he tastes you. The first touch of his tongue is like fire, a sensation so intense that it steals your breath away. You gasp, your hands finding their way to his hair, anchoring yourself to him as the pleasure begins to build.
He works you with a practiced ease, his tongue tracing patterns that have you arching into him, seeking more of the exquisite sensations he’s giving you. He alternates between gentle flicks and firmer strokes, finding a rhythm that leaves you trembling beneath him. Your soft moans and gasps fill the night air, mingling with the sound of the lake and the distant rustle of leaves. Logan responds to your every sound, adjusting his movements, his sole focus on drawing out your pleasure.
As the tension coils within you, winding tighter with each deft movement of his tongue, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release. Logan senses your impending climax, his efforts doubling as he brings you closer and closer to the brink. With a final flick of his tongue at your clit with gentle, firm pressure, he pushes you over the edge, sending you spiraling into ecstasy. The world dissolves around you as the waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you breathless and shaking.
Logan stays with you through it all, his touch gentle and reassuring as you come down from your high. He presses a soft kiss to your thigh before moving back up to lie beside you, gathering you into his arms as you catch your breath. “Logan,” you whisper, feeling a warmth that’s more than just physical spreading through you.
He smiles, a satisfied, tender expression on his face as he brushes a stray hair from your cheek. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs.
You shift slightly, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. The sight of him, hair tousled and eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and desire, stirs something within you. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
Responding eagerly to your initiation, the kiss deepens as your hands explore each other with a renewed sense of curiosity and hunger, as if he didn’t just make you finish with his mouth. You push him gently onto his back, straddling his hips as you trade positions once again, trailing kisses down his chest, savoring the way his muscles tense under your touch.
Your hands make quick work of his belt and jeans, tugging them down to reveal the hard length of him. He’s beautiful. Logan’s breath hitches as you take him in your hand, stroking him with a slow, deliberate rhythm that draws a low groan from his lips.
You lower yourself further, your lips and tongue exploring every inch of him, tasting and teasing until his hands are tangled in your hair, guiding you with a mix of urgency and need. The sounds he makes, the way he reacts to your touch, only spurs you on, and you take him deeper, reveling in the way his body responds to yours.
“Darlin’,” Logan rasps, his voice strained with pleasure, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”
You smile against him, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, the heat in his eyes matching the fire burning within you. “Well, don’t go dying on me now,” you tease, moving back up to capture his lips in a heated kiss.
His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you settle over him. You barely break the kiss as you grab his length and slowly sit down on it. The pleasure of being filled by him draws a gasp from your lips, and a hearty groan vibrates underneath you.
You brace yourself against his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your palms, as you begin to move. The rhythm starts slow and steady, each movement deliberate as you rise and fall, taking him deeper with each movement of your hips. Soon enough, you feel him begin to thrust up into you, matching your pace, pounding into you even deeper than before. 
Logan’s grip on your hips tightens, guiding you as you pick up the pace, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The sound of your breathy sighs and his low groans fill the air, mingling with the gentle rustle of the leaves and the lapping of the lake against the shore.
His eyes remain locked on yours, a dark and heated gaze that stokes the fire within you. You feel the tension coiling tight, winding with each movement until it’s all-consuming, a need that demands release.
“I’m close,” you gasp, leaning forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss. 
The tension within you builds to a crescendo, a tidal wave of sensation that sweeps you away. With one final movement, you tumble over the edge, your release crashing over you in a symphony of pleasure that leaves you trembling in his arms.
He follows soon after, a low, guttural moan escaping him as he finds his own release, his hands finding and squeezing your breasts while his body shudders beneath you.
When the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath you. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, and you smile against his skin, feeling a sense of peace and contentment that only comes from being with him.
The night air cools the heat between you, and you nestle against Logan’s side, feeling safe and cherished in the aftermath of your shared passion. His fingers trace lazy patterns along your back, soothing and grounding you as you bask in the warmth of his embrace.
“Wow,” you whisper, a soft laugh escaping you as you meet his gaze, the stars reflected in his eyes. “That was…”
“Incredible,” he finishes for you, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve got me all figured out, darlin’.”
You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. “I think we’ve got eachother figured out.”
“Yeah, we do,” Logan agrees, pulling you closer, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
As the night stretches on, you find comfort and peace in Logan’s embrace, knowing that this is just the beginning of something beautiful and real. You’ve found a home in each other’s arms—a place where you truly belong.
---------
A/N: this is my first time ever writing smut yikes lol please leave feedback!
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parfaitblogs · 2 months
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risk ❀ s. reid x reader
in which you have the sweetest regular, and it’s probably too soon to tell him you love him!
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pairing: spencer reid x barista!reader genre: fluff tags: s1 spencer. who rambles. biblically accurate career!reader sorry if some of the coffee talk makes no sense to you. reader makes all the first moves. y'all kiss (aww). written in timeskip sorta it's not crazy (like maybe a month). not proofread sorryyy (im not). word count: 2.2k a/n: first instalment of my spencer reid eras tour🙂‍↕️ season 1 spencer reid i freaking adore you. he's so cute. gif!! i thought gifs in this series could be cute lol. envisioned 1x10 spencer bc of his nightmares if that means anything. enjoyyy ily im off to work 🏃 
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There are many reasons you come to work each morning. The money (an obvious one), your coworkers who usually make each day a little bit more bearable. And Spencer. A regular who had become a little notorious for having an odd coffee order, that most of the store workers hated making. 
Except for you. 
It wasn't especially odd. But in a store that thrived on making the perfect cup of coffee, sometimes it meant remaking it three or four times because the shots didn't pour at the right amount of time, and recalibrating the machine was a hassle you all didn't want to deal with in the middle of the morning rush he usually came during. 
You had taken note of him the first few times he came in — always keeping to himself, flashing the most awkward smile you think you've ever seen on a human being, and ordering his old order (a large latte with as much sugar as you could fit in the cup). It was by the seventh time that had you thinking of him a little more often than just while you were at work. 
He looked a lot more exhausted than usual. His usually tame hair now loose and hanging over his face as he took a weary step towards the counter, fingers brushing strands away and tucking them behind his ears. 
"The latte, right?" you had asked him, and he had frozen, and you stood in fear of this not being the Spencer you thought he was, and you had just asked a total stranger about a coffee they've never ordered. 
But then he let out a nervous laugh, shaking his head. "Uh, no. Not today. Um—do you guys have a limit on how much coffee I can have?"
Your eyebrows furrowed. "No... we don't. I wouldn't recommend any more than like five shots in our largest size, though. It'd probably taste gross. But we can add as much as you need."
"Five's good. Yeah," he nodded his head, fingers wrapped tightly around the leather strap of his messenger bag. 
"Just... a five shot latte?" you clarified, and he froze again, shaking his head once more. 
"Do you recommend anything else? I—uh, I want it to be sweet enough still."
"I can do you a mocha?" you offered. "White chocolate mocha if you're looking for it to be even sweeter."
"I'll try that," he nodded his head, and out came his awkward smile, which had you smiling back just as awkwardly. 
Which was how he got to his current usual. It honestly became a test to ensure your coffee machines were actually running well, considering pulling five well-done espresso shots at once was no easy feat. And, again, most of your coworkers hated making his drink. 
Which was why it was palmed off to you. Every single morning without fail. And maybe in another universe you would join them in the hatred for this man's frustrating drink order. But then, in that universe, you wouldn't get to talk to him every morning (and slowly break him out of whatever shell he had locked himself up in). 
"I never asked," you began, staring at him over the top of the coffee machine while putting white chocolate fudge into the bottom of the cup. "Why did you change your order randomly?"
He parted his lips and his eyebrows creased together for a few seconds, as if he was deciding whether or not to tell you. You were kind of grateful he concluded on trusting you. 
"I wasn't really sleeping. When I asked about changing my order," he explained, hands letting go of the bag strap so he could talk with them. "Then I guess I just liked the taste of it? And it kept me awake. Which is a bonus."
"I can imagine it would," you nodded your head in agreement, flashing him a small smile, which he returned, bashfully. "Why weren't you sleeping?"
He went silent, and you almost cursed yourself for asking. Maybe you had gone too far. It was why, when you had begun to busy yourself with making his drink a little faster, you jumped when he spoke up again.
"I was getting these nightmares," he said, and your head lifted from the milk you were steaming. "Because of what I do for work."
"Law, right?" you asked, and he let out a small laugh, tucking hair behind his ear. 
"Sort of. I'm with the FBI."
"Oh, that's right," you replied, nodding your head in recognition. He had said that to you at some point in the earlier days when he first started coming in, because you had asked where he works so close by to be coming in as often as he did. "Can you tell me what part? Or is that confidential?"
"No, no, I can. I'm with the Behavioural Analysis Unit," when your face twisted into confusion, he added, "We use psychology to analyse serial killers and catch them. Well, not just serial killers, actually. But that's what we focus on."
"And it works?" you asked, eyebrows rising as you placed a lid atop his coffee, sliding it out on the pick-up section where he was standing by. His face fell slightly, and so you were quick to add, "Not—I didn't mean it like that. I just mean I'm shocked. That psychology is all you really need to catch a serial killer."
"It's not all we need. There's a lot of other elements that go into finding one. But our primary focus is how their brain works and we use behavioural science to figure that out. Actually, we used to be called the Behavioural Science Unit when it was first created."
He was too busy talking animatedly with his hands for him to have picked up his coffee, and you were too busy watching him with a smile to remind him it was ready. 
When he did reach for it, you could feel the familiar pang of disappointment that had started shooting through you every time he was picking up his coffee and leaving. A weird sensation that left you clawing at the walls of your brain to come up with something to say to keep him there. 
It was probably why you blurted out, "Are you seeing anyone?" Which was followed by stunned silence from him, and regretful silence from yourself. What a question. 
Slowly, he began to shake his head, his lips twitching into a confused frown. "No. I'm—I'm not." 
It shocked you a little. He wasn't jaw dropping, per se. But he was attractive. You had said it a few times to your coworkers whenever they asked why you talked to him so much — there was a running joke that you were already secretly dating him behind their backs. Not funny.
"I was just wondering if you wanted to..." you hesitated. "Go out for dinner? Maybe? I'm so sorry if I'm totally overstepping. In fact, I encourage you to say no, because this is a little weird. I'm so sorry," you rambled when you were met with only silence from him, wondering if you had weirded him out of the ability to talk. 
"With me?" he pushed out, his voice a little higher pitched than usual, and you nodded your head, because maybe he wasn't weirded out. Maybe you had just flustered him. You hoped so, at least.
"Yeah," you said. "Is that weird? Or is it okay? To ask that?"
"It's okay. Yeah. Yes. I would love—like to. I mean, that would be nice. Yeah," he stammered, and you smiled. 
"Here," you held your hand out and gestured for his coffee, taking it back and picking up a Sharpie to write your number atop the lid, before you slid it back to him. "I get off work at one. Call me?"
"I will," he nodded, eyes fixated on the number for a few seconds more, before he returned his eyes to you. "I will. Um—bye!" he took a step back, and you let out a loud laugh when he stumbled into a chair behind him. 
He was sheepish as he waved to you, bidding you another goodbye, the sound of the bell above the door ringing once, and then again when it fell shut. 
And you had, somehow, secured a date with Spencer.
Which turned into two dates. Then three. And then, with some weird stroke of luck and twist of fate, you were spending every evening you could at his apartment, and him at yours. 
But you were yet to kiss. 
Not by any particular reason. Really, nothing either of you did ever really called for a kiss. Which was as frustrating as it was understandable. Frustrating, because you felt like you were simply friends, who sometimes went out for dinner, and had feelings for each other. But he had told you very early on he'd never been with anyone before, let alone ever been on a date. Hence; understandable. 
But frustration was more overwhelming than you had thought, because you were on his couch, blanket draped over both of your bodies, as he read you a book — The Chameleon. A short story by Anton Chekhov (an author whom you were only barely familiar with). And yet, all you could think about was kissing him. 
In your defence, he was very kissable, as you stared at his lips while he spoke, your heart stuttering quite uncomfortably in your chest. You weren't sure what it was precisely about him that made him like that. Maybe it was the natural pout of his lips, or how they twitched in humour at the little jokes Chekhov had written into the book that only made sense in Russian, despite him attempting to translate it for you. 
Whatever it was, it was overriding your senses, and in true Spencer fashion, he hadn't noticed you weren't intently listening to his reading until he glanced down to catch a reaction to something he said. You caught as he closed the book and placed it off to the side, jostling you from your haze. 
"You don't like the book, do you?" he asked, and you were quick to shake your head. 
"No, I do," which was true. The parts you were actively listening to you enjoyed. "Sorry, I'm distracted."
"By what?" he shifted on the couch to face you.
You fell silent at that, the answer hanging on the tip of your tongue, unsure whether or not saying it could ruin things. You didn't think it would. "You."
"I'm distracting?" he asked, eyebrows creasing together and a confused frown pulling his lips down. 
Which confused you. "Yes?"
"I don't think I'm meant to be sorry for that," he said. "But I am."
"You shouldn't be," you breathed out with a small laugh. 
"Right," he nodded his head, laughing too, awkwardly. "How am I distracting?"
You studied his face for a few moments, which ended up being a pathetic excuse for a lip study, because you were fixated on them again, and you decided Spencer probably didn't even realise that that was what you were doing. 
"We haven't kissed yet," you told him, instead. 
"No. We haven't," he agreed. 
"Do you just not want to kiss me?" you asked.
He did that thing he does when he's thinking — furrowed eyebrows and parted lips, eyes blinking a few times, before he comes up with his response. 
"I just don't want you to be disappointed. I've never kissed anyone before."
"I concluded that," you answered. "I won't be disappointed."
"You might be," he mumbled, and his gaze averted from your own, which had another smile stretching across your lips. 
"Only one way to find out, right?"
He hesitated before nodding his head, lifting his eyes back up to look at you. It was then that you learned that, like everything else, you might have to make the first move on him. Again.
The thought made you laugh, and though he wanted to, he didn't get a chance to question why you were laughing, because your hands were on his face and you were pulling him into you, lips meeting his in a gentle kiss that elicited a surprised squeak from him. 
"You've gotta kiss me back," you murmured against his lips, and his response was a quiet 'oh'. 
But he was a fast learner, because soon after he was. Objectively, it wasn't the best kiss you've ever had in your life. But it got better by the second, and he was doing enough to make your heart stutter in your chest, his hands reaching up to cup your own face, palms and fingers covering the mass of your cheeks. 
His hands there provided him the ability to keep you there, and you had to pry them off your face so you were able to pull back for air, breaths coming out in short pants. Only for a short second, because he was chasing your lips again, and you laughed, before letting him kiss you again. And again. And again. 
Until both of you were out of air, and he was glassy-eyed and pink-lipped. Though, you were probably his mirror image of that.
And he smiled at you, crookedly. And you wondered if it was too soon to say you loved him. 
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡
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Text
My Darling
"Who even is that guy?"
"That's my darling"
----
It starts with a post.
Eddie had posted a photo on Instagram holding his acoustic guitar, cross legged on a chair.
Recently he had been front cover of a magazine of 'him' wrapped around a young woman. Living the Rockstar life.
His agent had suggested he show a more domestic side to him, a softer side.
Hence the acoustic.
It was summer so Steve was off of work and sleeping on the couch behind him, blankets up to his ears. The only thing visible was his hair peeking out and his arm hanging over the side of the couch. A sleeve of tattoos running down it all the way to his knuckles. Eddie loved that arm. He loved the way the tattoo curved around his knuckles like water. His nice, big. veiny hand that-
WOAH off topic.
He had done half the tattoos himself and made sure he payed for it all.It was the least he could do for all Steve has done for him.
They met eight and a half years ago, Steve had seen Eddie play at shitty clubs and recognized his mop of hair getting hit in the alleyway.
Eddie thought he was a goner for sure until Steve ripped the guy off him.
Steve just shot him a smile and complimented his guitar skills.
Eddie fell to his knees. He was gone for him.
He invited Steve to band practice as a thank you since he didn't have much to offer.
Two weeks later they were dating and Steve has been their number one fan since.
When Eddie got the record deal he dedicated everything to Steve.
Everything always was for him. As it should be.
Anyways,
Eddie posted the photo excited to promote the acoustic cover of his hit song 'My Hero, My Darling'.
The comments instantly went ballistic asking who the random man behind him was. He definitely wasn't in the band and why would notorious lady killer Eddie Munson have a man in his house...he couldn't possibly have friends.
Eddie responded to one comment only, knowing the rest would sort itself out.
"That's my darling ❤️"
----
"Eddie," Steve was frowning at him, poking his side with his foot.
"Eddie look at me this is serious."
"Yes my love?"
"You outed yourself. You were doing such a good job keeping this a secret. This will change everything."
Eddie turns over until his holding Steve close to him, his face in his hands.
"Good. I'm tired of hiding you my darling. I'm tired of the accusations."
"But Eddie you OUTED yourself."
"I won't say anything about you, I'd never out you Stevie. But I'm done hiding that I'm a simple man in love."
"...me too. I'm done too."
"Darling are you sure? This is a big deal. What about your school? Your principal?"
"I don't care. Everyone important to me knows. My family, my real family, know and don't care. They do wonder why I've been single for eight years but they'll get over it."
"Marry me."
"What?"
"Marry me oh my god that's the hottest thing I've ever heard. I love you so much please I can't live another moment not having you mine. Besides, if you get fired that's definitely a lawsuit and you know I've been pleasing for you to quit so I can take care of you, but you love those damn kids. Just...be mine...please."
"I've been yours. Since the start. Since always." They both have tears in their eyes.
"Yes?"
"YES OF COURSE YES!"
They're giggling through their kisses.
---
"Heeeeyyy everyone thanks for joining my live. I have something super important to inform you on! I'm getting married!!!!!"
The comments instantly flood in questioning him on moving too fast, asking if he's on drugs. The usual.
"Oooooh you guys have no idea."
----
The photo goes up an hour after the live ends.
It's Steve sitting on the couch, glasses on, red pen in his mouth. He's wearing a thick sweater and grumbling grading papers.
He looks so soft, so smooth, it's Eddie's favorite picture. The next picture in the carousel is Steve backstage at his concert. They're holding onto each other like they need each other to breathe.
The last picture is a selfie taken minutes after. Eddie with his stage makeup sweating off his face smiling brightly at the camera. and Steve kissing his cheek. Eyes squinted shut and eyeliner thick, he had worn it as a treat for Eddie.
It was well received.
The caption reads:
"I'm so happy to announce I'm marrying my best friend and partner of eight years! Everyone meet my darling. Steve is a local middle school teacher who has literally saved my life more than once. He saved my heart. God, I love him so much.
P.s. yes the tours are in the summer so Stevie can travel with us. I'd never leave him."
---
Bonus engagement edition:
"YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED TO EDDIE MUNSON?!"
"Yes. We've been over this."
Eddie stuck out his hand to shake, "hi, Eddie Munson, nice to meet you."
"YOU HID THIS FOR EIGHT YEARS?!"
"Yes."
"I'M BASICALLY YOUR BROTHER! HE'S MY FAVORITE CELEBRITY!"
"Yes Dustin and you can't keep a secret."
"...fair...welcome to the family."
*inspired by my friend only learning her cousin was marrying someone famous when he showed up to Thanksgiving and she lost her mind
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vernoniekiss · 3 months
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svt when someone makes their s/o uncomfortable | [ ot13 ]
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[🫧] seungcheol
- protective leader mode the moment he senses something is off. he’s not gonna stand around and let someone make you feel uncomfortable. he’ll make sure to stand between you and the person and make himself known and signal to the guy to not mess with him or you. cause it’ll get messy.
[🫧] jeonghan
- constantly checking up on you, checking if your okay and that he’s not hurt you. nags at the guy to leave you alone and to get out of there. he would never leave your side after. you wanna go home ?? that’s fine, he also wants to go home. you wanna go for a walk ?? that’s also fine, he can do with some fresh air.
[🫧] joshua
- a real gentleman, when he notices someone is making you uncomfortable he’s at your side in an instant. he hopes the dude backs off knowing you have a boyfriend but if he doesn’t get the hint, joshua would make sure he gets the hint “hello darling, is this man bothering you” and eyeing down the man.
[🫧] junhui
- he’ll become a clingy man, never left your side from the start. would give you small kisses here and there to make sure the dude knows you’re taken. i’m afraid he’s also the type to stick his tongue out at the dude in a “haha she’s mine” type of way 😞.
[🫧] hoshi
- they do NOT wanna mess with this man who has a black belt in taekwondo. this man can take it outside. he’ll take you home, no way is he staying there when someone is eye fucking his girl.
[🫧] wonwoo
- on the outside he’s chill but in the inside he can feel a swirl of anger. he doesn’t wanna cause a huge commotion and catch the public’s eye on this so he settles it quietly. bumps his shoulder to the guy when walking past with your hands in his.
[🫧] woozi
- knew it was a bad idea at the start but he wanted you to have some fun. eyebrows furrowed as he made his way to you. he’s been observing for the past few minutes, you declining the mans offer but he doesn’t seem to back off. slides his arm around your waist before nudging you off the seat towards him. he’s taking you home.
[🫧] dokyeom
- if he was having fun before, he’s now not having fun. “uhm excuse me” while he takes you by the hand away from the man and onto the dance floor. “what an asshole” he says which makes you laugh. he smiles the moment you laugh. your smile brightens up his day.
[🫧] mingyu
- this man knows how to take advantage of his height and his build. also would block you out of the persons view and make you hide behind him. tells the person to back off or else. “sorry your making MY girlfriend uncomfortable”
[🫧] minghao
- calm… scary calm… he can be protective over his s/o. so when someone makes you uncomfortable, he makes it known. “you’re making her uncomfortable”. gently takes your arm and lead you out to go on a walk. just you and him with the moon.
[🫧] seungkwan
- throws the person the NASTIEST glare ever. like who the fuck do they think they are ?! can’t they see that you are uncomfortable. shouts at the guy for a good 10 minutes before taking you by the hand and leaving the place.
[🫧] vernon
- he’s very attentive to you so when he notices a slight shift in your mood, he knows something is up. he’ll gladly take your hands and leave the place but not before shooting the guy a dirty look. would make sure you are okay the moment you’re out of the guys sight.
[🫧] chan
- swarms you with questions in-front of the guy. like a lot of questions. makes the guy feel awkward and eventually leaves you both alone. “are you really REALLY sure you’re okay?!” have to reassure him 100x times that you’re okay as long as he’s always there by your side.
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nicksolemnlyswears · 3 months
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COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME
(HAELENA’S TURN)
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STAY WITH US
pairing: helaena targaryen x targaryen! reader, aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader
word count: ~3k
warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, light cursing, angsty helaena, one single mention of sex. dont @ me if you find a haelena instead of a helaena. targaryen names are much too complicated for my brain
a/n: thank you guys for all the love on aegon's oneshot. i was bouncing on the walls when i saw how much love it received and that some people agree with me in terms of alicent being a shit mom. that being said you dont really have to read the first part to read this. it works as a stand alone although it is a continuation.
although the inspiration to write these oneshots was the death of a child i love how soft and comforting they've come out. it's about sympathizing and giving these characters the love they deserve.
helaena deserves so much love even more than aegon. she's an innocent in all of this trapped in the midst of war. hell even rhaenyra agrees and scolded daemon for his misdoings.
im thinking of writing one last part where it is all three of them together: reader, aegon and helaena. i'm leaning towards smut but i never know what my brain will come up with. if you’d rather have some more domestic fluffy stuff let me know and that can be arranged!
enjoy!
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Your fingers close around your skirts as you fly up the stairs to Helaena's bed chambers. One of her maids leads the way. The young girl sought you out as you readied for bed, rambling about how Queen Helaena was in distress. Without further question, you slipped on your robe and followed her.
The Queen has not been well since the night her child was brutally taken from her. She continues to live day by day in constant suffering as her mind has a difficult time coming to terms with that night's events.
As it happens, saying Helaena is 'not well' is an understatement.
She might've been 'not well' after the fact, but the funeral proceedings broke the last thread of sense she was holding onto. If anyone is to blame, it is the Dowager Queen who forced her to attend and Otto Hightower who was the 'mastermind' behind it all.
It was torture to hear the people of Kings Landing shouting for her, screaming vile words about Rhaenyra, and offering condolences about a subject they barely knew a thing about.
Most had never seen the young Prince; his cold body and the gold thread around his neck were their first glimpses of him. They gasped and awed at her child as if he were a spectacle while she had no choice but to sit and watch with composure.
It is only natural she would fall apart under the pressure of such ill-conceived plans. Her overthinking mind couldn't handle it any longer when the carriage got stuck. Her thoughts coming up with the most of wicked scenarios. She had to run.
Then, there is Jaehaera, who continues to ask for her twin brother. The poor girl has never spent a day apart from him since they were conceived. It is difficult for Helaena to hear Jaehaera constantly ask where he is and when he will return. It's a never ending reminder of her loss.
Besides, how is she to explain death to a child when Helaena herself has not accepted it.
The newly assigned guard sworn to protect the Queen opens the door for you as soon as you round the corner. His anticipation worries you to no end, and you fear what lies past those doors.
Maids surround Helaena, attempting to comfort her. She screams at them to let her be, but they persist. The maids mean well. Helaena is clearly distressed, yet they don't seem to realize it's because of their overbearing presence.
The young Queen swats them away. Her fingers thread through her messy hair as she seeks an escape, and sobs rake through her slender body until she collapses on her knees. Her lips move in unreadable murmurs in between each yell.
Helaena barely appears like herself. Dark purple circles line her under eyes, and her hair is unbrushed and knotted. Her signature plump cheeks have hollowed out, indicating that she has lost weight.
"Please," Helaena cries to no one in particular, recoiling from their touch.
You barrel through the maids and kneel on the floor at an arms length from Helaena. "'Laena?" you softly call to get her to look at you, knowing that if you even attempt to touch her, she will shy away.
At the recognition of your voice, Helaena's face whips up. She falls into your arms, hiding from the other females in the room. The tears that stain her face wet your robe as you hold her close. She tucks her face into your neck, hiccuping from emotion.
"Leave us," you command with a stern gaze that borders on anger.
The maids move to leave the room, but only after notifying you that the Queen has barely eaten or bathed in days. Once the door closes shut, you coax Helaena from your arms.
"What is wrong, 'Laena?" You ask softly, cradling her face to brush away her tears. The sight of her red and blotchy face breaks your heart. She must've been like this for a long time.
"It is my fault," she hiccups as new tears follow the path of the others. Helaena hangs her head in despair. She should've fought harder to keep her son alive. There must've been something else she could've done.
"Look at me," you say sternly, forcing her to look at you. It is when her eyes meet yours that you continue, "This is not your fault."
"I was the one to point my finger," she argues while her fists clench and unclench around the fabric of her dress when a new wave of emotion takes over.
Helaena is an overly emotional person. She feels things deep in her chest. She wishes she could control it, but the more she holds it in, the nastier it gets when it gets out of her control. Her body freezes and pleads for her to run and hide.
"Helaena, this was going to happen whether you pointed your finger or not. If you hadn't done what you did, you and Jaehaera would be dead as well."
It's blunt and a bit cruel, but Helaena must understand that she had no other choice. The only way this could've been stopped was if she had been assigned a sworn protector, but the council underestimated their enemy and Ser Criston Cole was too busy getting his cock wet to do anything about it.
"I told them to spare him and kill me instead," Helaena confesses with a weep.
She lets herself go on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around her shaking shoulders. You kiss the top of her head to console her guilty conscience. Helaena did not deserve to be a victim of Daemon's terrible idea. She might just be the most innocent of Targaryens.
"I know, Helaena, you were so brave. You're a wonderful mother. This is not your fault, and nobody blames you. You did what you had to do. Jaehaera is alive and well because of you."
It's hard for Helaena to stop thinking in such a way once she starts. The thoughts cause her to imagine things that aren't really there and doubt her reality. She feels like the staff's glances are not of worry but of resentment for letting those men kill her boy. Aegon's absence makes it all the worse.
"Aegon will not look at me, much less speak to me," she whimpers, wrapping her arms around your waist.
A tear slides down your cheek. You will never compare your sadness to theirs, but seeing them hurt in such a way pains you. Their marriage was arranged, yes, but Aegon and Helaena hold deep affection for each other. They simply have a difficult time showing it.
In this instance, there is no one who understands them better than each other. It is tragic but this should bring them closer together not tear them apart.
"Aegon is grieving. He can barely stand to look at himself because he feels like he failed his family, 'Laena. I promise you he will come around."
Helaena nods with her head on your shoulder. She is not convinced, but your words soothe her for the time being. Tears continuously slide down her face, and there is nothing you can do about it. You much prefer she cries it all out than hold it in.
"Come," you tell her, holding her hand and guiding her to the bath the maids had prepared before they left. "Let's get you ready for bed.”
You keep her close to you, reassuring Helaena you're there to stay as long as she needs. You help her untie the strings of her dress, and as you hang it over the back of a chair, she slips out of her smallclothes.
She accepts your hand to step into the bath. The water has now cooled, but she doesn't complain. It is the least of her worries. Helaena sits in the tub with her arms around her knees and silently cries.
Your goal tonight is to get her to rest. You can tell she hasn't slept in a long time, which will make her feel better.
Settling on the wooden stool next to the bath, you lather soap into the sponge and ask for her arm. Helaena complies, and you gently swipe the sponge across her skin. The maids were thorough as the smell of a calming oils invades your senses. They sincerely wanted to help their Queen.
Scrubbing down her arm, you note her nailbeds, which are red and raw. You're gentle with the soap when you reach her hand to prevent it from burning. Once you rinse it out, you bring her hand up to your lips, kissing her fingertips much like your mother would do when you got hurt.
Her crying calms when she catches onto your gesture, watching you in awe.
It is easy to note how she's thinned out as you continue to bathe her. Her skin presses against her ribs, showcasing each indent, and the bony prominences of her shoulders are much more palpable. It worries you to no end. Everyone has different coping mechanisms, but this is by far the unhealthiest one.
In the morrow, you will make it your goal to get her to eat. For a start, you will ask the kitchens to bake her favorite dessert. There has never been a moment where Helaena has refused a berry tart.
"Tilt your head back for me, love," you whisper, grabbing the pitcher of clean water from the table. Brushing Helaena's hair back, you pour the water, being careful not to get it in her eyes.
As she tilts her head back, she keeps her watchful eyes on you. She is in one of the most intimate positions, yet her lilac eyes reveal the most vulnerable parts of herself. You offer Helaena a comforting smile. Moving on from this tragic accident will be difficult, but we have to start somewhere.
When you lather her hair with soap and massage her scalp, she closes her eyes with a shudder. In turn, her shoulders relax, and goosebumps appear across her skin. A quiet moan slipping past her bitten lips.
Moving on to her face, Helaena watches you closely as you grab a rag to wash her face. You're so careful and tender with her. She has not made mention of it, but your touch feels pleasant against her skin.
You dab her neck next, looking over the wound that was cast upon her. You wish for it not to scar. Helaena needs no more reminders of that night.
After finishing the bath, you help her stand and dry off. Then, you follow her to the bed, where her nightgown lies discarded. With your assistance, she quickly slips it on. Helaena is quiet as she dresses; no more tears well up in her eyes.
"Let's brush your hair," you whisper soothingly.
Delicately, you glide the brush through her silver strands. You tackle the knots methodically to prevent pulling on her hair. A couple of drops of rose oil help greatly with the task as the bristles move smoothly across the long length of her hair.
Helaena sighs softly, and, through the mirror, you can see her eyes are closed. The poor thing must be exhausted.
"How are you feeling?" You ask her, tying the plait you weaved and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. You prop your head upon hers, cuddling her into you.
"Better, I suppose," she nods gratefully, grasping your hand hanging loosely across her chest. "I am tired," she admits.
"Let's get you to bed then."
Before you can slip away, Helaena protests and holds your wrist. "No, please." You're taken aback by the desperation in her voice. Why is she refusing to rest when her body begs for it?
"Helaena, when was the last time you slept?"
Helaena appears guilty. She swallows the knot on her throat, preparing to answer. "Not since that night. The nightmares do not allow me respite."
You sit beside her on the bench, keeping a firm grasp on her hand. "Do you wish to speak about them? It might help."
Her voice is barely above a whisper. "It's always the same. They return when the nights darkest and take Jaehaera."
Helaena is terrified. Many of her dreams have become reality, and this is one she would not be able to bear witness to. The things they do in her dreams are unforgivable. She cannot lose her daughter to those monsters.
Silence takes upon the room. Helaena cannot survive in a sleep deprived state, there must be something you can do. "What if we bring her here? She can sleep with you. That way, you will know she's safe."
Helaena ponders your suggestion, her eyes drifting away. "Will you stay?" Although a question the way Helaena's voice cracks, it's more of a plead.
"Is that what you wish, my Queen?" You ask, caressing her cheek so she returns to you from that faraway place in her mind.
She's quick to nod and squeeze your hand in gratitude. "Please," she whispers, leaning into your touch.
"Anything for you."
Helaena accompanies you to Jaehaera's new chambers. The King saw it fit Jaehaera did not reside in the room where her twin brother was murdered. A wise choice.
If your memory serves you well, Jace used to inhabit the space once upon a time.
Helaena almost runs to her daughter's cot, ensuring she's alive and well. You sympathize with her, it's natural to worry about your child if another was stolen from your life.
"Mama," Jaehaera yawns when Helaena picks her up.
"You're sleeping with mummy tonight, yeah?" Helaena whispers, cradling the back of her head and kissing the crown of her head.
Jaehaera, too tired to reason or even question it, nods and nestles into the crook of Haelena's neck. The sight is eerily similar to that fateful night.
The guard posted to protect Jaehaera escorts you to the Queen's chambers, standing on the opposite side of Helaena's white cloak guard.
Once inside, you slip off your robe and join her and Jaehaera on the bed. The girl is safely nestled between you both, pale lashes fluttering shut.
Helaena reaches for your hand to ensure you do not leave, and you lace your fingers with hers. "Sleep, 'Laena. I'll keep you safe," you promise her.
All it takes for Helaena to sleep is a lullaby your mother used to sing to you. It was of great tales of the people of Old Valyria. It was your favorite growing up, and now it is Helaena's.
By the song's end, Helaena's breaths even out and she succumbs to slumber. Although her face reflects her tiredness, the resemblance between Helaena and Jaehaera is stark.
When your eyes begin to close, eager to follow Helaena and Jaehaera to the land of dreams, the door creaks open. Startled, you sit up on the bed to search for an intruder, ready to scream if need be.
Aegon stands by the door, his chest heaving and his face pale. His hair is in disarray, and his eyes are wild with worry. "Where is Jaehaera?" he asks.
"She's right here," you respond, lowering the sheets and moving your body to reveal her resting upon Helaena's chest.
Aegon sighs in relief, and after a moment of hesitation, he timidly steps closer to the bed, observing the scene in front of him. He has taken to visiting his daughter's chambers throughout the night. He doesn't trust the guards, even if he is the one who assigned them. Aegon needs to see with his own eyes that his remaining child is alive and not endangered.
He had been frightened when the guard who was supposed to be posted by her door was gone, and worse, so was his daughter. Before he could scream, a maid walked in and, upon questioning, told him Jaehaera was in the Queen's chambers with her mother and the Princess.
You lay back against the headboard and observe him. He sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over you to brush a strand of hair away from his wife's face. Then, his hand lowers as his fingertip traces the slope of his daughter's nose.
"You should talk to her."
Helaena's words are clear as day in your mind. After witnessing Aegon in the same position, you reckon it would be good if they spoke to one another.
"I wouldn't know what to say," Aegon responds with a shake of his head.
"Yes, you do," you insist, resting your hand upon his, which lays on the bed. He glances questioningly at you, silently asking you to explain.
Your voice is light and soft. The last thing you want is to wake Helaena, although your instincts tell you it is doubtful. "Nobody understands what you're going through better than Helaena. She lost a child as well and feels just as hopeless as you do. Talk to her and tell her the words you would've liked to hear."
"It is that easy?" He asks in disbelief with a scoff. He looks at you for guidance. You've helped him more than anyone in the council or his own mother.
"Yes," you chuckle, and he joins you, if only for a moment. "Would you like me to go so you can stay?" You wouldn't want to intrude in a moment that can unite a family yet again.
Aegon shakes his head and urges you to stay abed. "It is alright. I will soon talk with 'Laena."
For a brief moment, Aegon presses his forehead against yours to show his appreciation. He stands with a press of his lips to your forehead and one more glance at his family. "Thank you for everything. I hope one day I can repay you for all your kindness."
"There's no need."
He does not speak but shares a glance that says a thousand words. Aegon closes the door behind him and turns to the guards standing by it.
Their backs visibly straighten when he addresses them. "Under no circumstance are you to leave your post. Your goal is to protect the Queen and the Princesses."
After all, his heart and soul are in that room.
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STAY WITH US
came out a little longer than aegon but there was much to do with lovely helaena. queen helaena is a big reason as to why i hate alicent so much. alicent has let her down time and time again. how can she fucking ask helaena not to say anything about her and cole? fuck, alicent, she's not even thinking about that.
did you enjoy this one shot? please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept keyboard smashes, emojis, words of encouragement, praise, virtual hugs and alicent and cole slander) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!
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alisonsfics · 3 months
Text
words unsaid
pairing: carmy berzatto x reader
summary: after months of flirting and unconfessed feelings, you and carmy get in an argument when a customer gives him her number.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: swearing, angst, carmy being completely unaware of everything
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After wiping down your stations for the night, you and Carmy headed to the lockers to grab your bags. You both were exhausted after a hectic night.
“You have any plans for the rest of the night?” Carmy asked, curiously. You shrugged, looking over your shoulder at him as you fiddled with your locker. “You mean besides eating leftover pizza and then passing out from exhaustion?” You joked. You heard a small chuckle from Carmy.
He noticed you were tugging at the locker and the door seemed to be stuck. “Here, let me help you with that.” He offered.
You stepped out of the way and let Carmy take a shot at it. He jiggled the handle a few times and then was able to tug it open. “My hero,” you teased, as he walked back to his own locker.
If you had turned around, you would have seen the pink tint on Carmy’s cheeks.
“Anyway, did you want to maybe go grab a drink. I mean, only if you’re okay with postponing your pizza plans. Those sounded important though,” he teased you. You were one of the few people that Carmy would actually joke around with.
You jokingly scoffed at him. “My commitment to my leftover pizza is none of your business, Berzatto,” you responded, trying to maintain a serious tone. Once again, the sound of his soft chuckle met your ears.
“Hey, guys. Our last table wanted to personally thank their chefs.” Richie said, sticking his head around the corner.
Carmy gestured towards the door, politely letting you walk in front of him. Richie guided you both to the booth that currently seated three women. They were the only remaining customers from the dinner service.
Richie quickly introduced you both to them, and then he headed back to help with clean-up.
You noticed that two of the women seemed to be smirking at their other friend. “The food tonight was absolutely amazing.” One of them perked up and complimented you both.
You politely smiled, letting Carmy take the lead since he was the owner. You saw his posture shift as he went into customer service-mode.
“Thank you very much. Thank you for coming to visit us tonight. We’re glad you liked it.” He said, putting on a polite smile.
Carmy didn’t see it, but you noticed the two women quickly raise their eyebrows at their other friend. She then directed her attention to Carmy.
You knew where the conversation was going, and you hated how it tugged at your gut. You felt a heavy weight on your shoulders, and it took a lot for you to fake a smile.
Carmy was an attractive guy, and he was a chef, which was a pretty good recipe for success. You saw customers fawn over him constantly, but it never got easier.
That being said, Carmy wasn’t technically yours, but he was. He wasn’t your boyfriend by any means, and you weren’t his girlfriend. But, he dropped everything any time you called, and he’d do anything for you.
Your relationship was sometimes flirty, but neither of you had ever taken it further.
“Yeah, the food was really excellent. You’re an amazing chef. I definitely have a reason to come back.” The woman said, coyly.
You forced yourself to bite the inside of your lip, so you could keep your pleasant facade. You noticed their check sitting on the table and decided to use it as your excuse out of there.
“Thank you again for coming,” you said, smiling, grabbing the check, and heading back towards the kitchen. The woman looked like she finally realized you were standing there.
Carmy quickly thanked them again and followed right behind you.
Once the kitchen doors closed behind you, you turned to Carmy. “Being a chef does it every time, Berzatto,” you teased him.
Instead of being met by his usual grin, you saw him tilt his head as he tried to figure out what you were talking about.
“What do you mean?” He finally asked, when he couldn’t figure it out. You waited for a second, almost thinking he was playing dumb. “She was hitting on you, Carmy.” You told him. His eyes widened as he looked at you. “No, she wasn’t,” he argued.
You looked down at the check you were holding, which confirmed your suspicion when you saw a phone number written across the bottom of it.
“Really?” You asked, sliding the check into his hand. Your hand grazed his as you did, which almost made Carmy short circuit. He looked down at the check in his hand and saw the phone number clear as day.
“So, what am I supposed to do?” He asked you. From his perspective, he was asking how he was supposed to let her down and tell her he wasn’t interested. You didn’t take it that way.
“Well, if you’re interested, you call her.” You explained. He was speechless. He stood in front of you, not having a single coherent string of thoughts in mind.
“Wh…what—what do you mean?” He stumbled over his words.
You were practically fuming. You thought that you and Carmy had a thing going on, but he seemed to be pretty interested in asking this girl out.
“Are you interested? Do you want to go on a date with her?” You asked, your tone coming out a little more hostile than you intended. You were just jealous and even more unsure of where your and Carmy’s relationship stood.
“I…I don’t know,” he stammered, taken aback by this whole situation. He was getting love advice from the girl he wanted to be with, but was getting love advice for a different girl.
“Well, you’re the only one who can figure that out,” you huffed and quickly walked away from him. You knew if you continued the conversation for another minute, you’d start crying.
You grabbed your work bag and slammed your locker shut. “Woah, you okay?” Sydney asked from beside you. You hadn’t even noticed she was standing there. You took a deep breath before responding.
“Not really, you wanna go get a drink?” You asked her. She could tell that something had really gotten to you. “Yeah, of course. Is it about Carmy?” she asked, quietly. You just nodded, biting down on your lip and trying not to tear up.
“It’s okay. C’mon, let’s get you out of here,” she said, wrapping her arm around you as the two of you walked out the back door.
Still stunned from the whole encounter, Carmy walked into the office to hopefully clear his head. He sat in there for thirty minutes, continuously replaying his conversation with you in his head. He knew you were mad, but he wasn’t sure why. He was also thrown off by why it seemed like you were encouraging him to go on a date with the other woman.
After wracking his brain for answers, he still had nothing, so he headed towards the back alleyway to smoke a cigarette. He found Richie doing the same thing.
“You okay, cousin?” Richie asked, clearly being able to see how on edge Carmy looked. “Fuck no,” Carmy mumbled.
“Is this about your girl?” Richie asked, having already gotten a text from Sydney that explained what happened. “She’s not my girl, Richie, but I think we’re in a fight, and we’ve never been in a fight before. I just don’t know why she’s mad.” Carmy explained.
“You don’t know why she’s mad?” Richie asked in shock. Carmy looked at him with a confused look and shook his head.
“You two have been flirting and hanging out more and more. Then, you tell her that you maybe want to go on a date with this other girl. You don’t think she’d be hurt by that?” Richie asked him. Carmy didn’t understand why everybody was suddenly an expert on his relationship today and why he was so out of the loop.
“What do you mean, we are just friends.” Carmy argued, not being able to admit anything to the contrary, “wait, how do you know about our conversation?”
“Sydney told me. She’s busy trying to cheer Y/N up because she’s pissed at you.” Richie said, quickly brushing past it, “how does the idea of her going on a date with someone else make you feel, cousin? Like when you watch those customers that stare at her,” he asked.
Carmy hesitated. He knew the answer. “I fuckin’ hate it, but I’m just being protective. We’re friends, and I care about her.” Carmy replied, still in denial.
“Cousin, do you really think colleagues go out for drinks after work and get coffee together before work as often as you guys do? You know all her favorite movies, and her favorite flowers, and the words to all her favorite songs. And that big dinner you made for her birthday,” he told Carmy. Hearing all of it like that made Carmy realize how special your relationship was, but he was having trouble admitting it out loud.
“I’m a chef. I make food for people. It’s what I do.” Carmy argued, not even believing his own excuse.
“Yeah, because it’s like your fuckin’ love language, dickhead. How did you not see this?” Richie asked.
Carmy didn’t know what to think. “So are we like together?” He asked, stunned. Richie shook his finger at Carmy.
“Not until you finally grow a pair and actually make a real move. Ask her out to dinner, tell her how you feel, give her some grand gesture.” Richie told him.
Carmy stood still for a moment, processing what he had just heard.
“Where are her and Syd right now? I need a ride.” He told Richie, desperately. Richie quickly grabbed his car keys, and they both headed out the door.
“I know we’re not dating, but I just don’t understand why he didn’t say he wasn’t interested. Like, surely I can’t be imagining all of the flirting and how sweet he’s been.” You rambled to Sydney, taking another sip of your drink. Sydney nodded along.
“Maybe he felt like he was put on the spot because I’ve seen how he looks at you. He really cares about you but just has a shit way of showing it.” Sydney mentioned.
You looked down at the bar, slowly stirring your drink around. The front door of the bar quickly opened, slamming against the wall. Both yours and Sydney’s gaze went right to the loud noise.
You both saw Carmy burst into the restaurant. His eyes searched around until they landed on yours. He rushed towards the end of the bar where you and Sydney were sitting.
He stopped in front of you and caught his breath for a minute. “I am so fucking sorry. You are my everything, and I really fucked it up. And I don’t even know what I was saying.” He started to ramble.
You were shocked to say the least. “Carmy, you wanna go talk outside?” You suggested, assuming some privacy for this conversation was probably a good idea. He quickly nodded and held out his hand to help you down from your seat.
Sydney gave you a reassuring smile, and then you felt Carmy’s hand on the small of your back as he followed you outside. Now that he had a better grasp on your relationship, he felt much more confident, which made him more affectionate. And you loved it.
He rushed in front of you, so he could hold the front door open for you. You both saw Richie waiting outside. “Syd’s inside. Can you give us a minute, cousin?” Carmy asked him. Richie quickly nodded and headed inside to freak out with Sydney that they were so close to getting you two together.
“I didn’t mean any of that earlier. I was just confused, and it felt like you wanted me to ask that girl out. So, I was questioning if you felt the same way I feel about you.” He apologized. He had to stop himself from grabbing your hands. He wanted to, but he wanted to apologize first.
“Enough of what I want. Tell me before I waste anymore of my time. Carmen Berzatto, what do you want? Do you want to be with me?” You asked him. You felt like you were being harsh, but you wanted everything to be out in the open.
“I want to be with you so fuckin’ bad.” He said. One of his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He used his other hand to cup your cheek and close the distance with a kiss.
Richie and Sydney saw the kiss through the window and had to stop themselves from cheering.
You stumbled forward a little since Carmy had pulled you towards him so quickly. He tightened his grip around your waist, while smirking into the kiss. You let your hands rest on his forearms, feeling his biceps flex under your fingertips.
The kiss was rushed, fueled by months of pent up feelings and the fear of losing each other that you both had experienced. Neither of you wanted to let the other go.
His lips tasted like spearmint as they moved effortlessly against yours. There was a loud clap of thunder above you both, and the sky opened up as it started pouring.
You both pulled out of the kiss in shock at the freezing rain that was hitting your skin. You both just grinned at each other, knowing how picture-perfect this moment was.
“You wanna go inside?” He almost had to yell for you to hear him over the rain. You just shook your head. You wanted to enjoy every single second.
He grabbed your hand and spun you around in a circle, watching as the rain droplets flew off the ends of your hair.
You were smiling and giggling. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back into a kiss. “You are perfect,” he mumbled as he kissed you.
He finally pulled out of the kiss when he noticed you shivering. “This is magical, but I’m not gonna let you get sick.” He said, wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you back inside where you were met by the smiling faces of Richie and Sydney. They both immediately pulled you into a hug.
“You know how hard we had to work for this to happen because you both wanted to be in denial for months that you’re head over heels for each other.” Sydney teased you both. You just smiled at Carmy, and all you could think about was how the rest of your coworkers were going to freak out when they heard.
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