#i gave her tights too because she deserves them

[rraveboy]

hey guys did you know i fucking love Annie Atsuo Hazy River. women likers come get y’all juice

[cuntdevil]

★ TOUCHDOWN ON THAT PUSSY !

a good way to celebrate the victory of a game is to have a sweet little treat right after.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, satoru gojo & geto suguru, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 5905 words !

╰┈➤ football player!gojo satoru & afab!reader (she/her) & football player!geto suguru, college football!au, threesome, some bantering on satosugu's part, teasing, oral through the panties, dry humping and groping, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, nipple play, oral (female & male receiving), cum eating, satosugu kiss, not proofread, etc.

( author's note. ) i had a vision of geto licking the pussy clean right after gojo cums in it, so i had to make it a reality. im a whore & also wanted some boy on boy action so accept this because i feel like that's the only right way to do a threesome. especially with satosugu.

Gojo has a promising future ahead of him as he dashes across the football field on the ten second mark. He can’t hear a thing underneath his heavy football helmet, but everyone’s screaming is getting louder as they stand on the bleachers and egging him closer to touchdown. He’s unstoppable. His teammates back him up as they prevent the opposing team from laying a finger on him and if they get too close, Gojo’s an extraordinaire at ducking and dodging. 

An absolute fiend he is, blazing through the bright green grass like the roadrunner, swift on his feet as he’s so close to victory. His coach was right, the Racers were no joke as they gave them their most difficult game in the season. Now they’re at neck-and-neck, tied at 15. His team is depending on him to break this tie, to keep their winning streak going strong and he’d hate to disappoint.

The audience battles between watching the clock and the field, the six ticking down to a five. 

Five… They’re starting to have their doubts, dread creeping into their bones as they begin to believe he’s not going to make it. Knuckles turning white as Gojo continues to speed with the ball in his hand. 

Four… Someone is gaining up on him, only a few inches away from tackling him down until he’s beat down. There’s a stagger on his feet before he picks up the same moment. Three… Tw— It happens in a matter of a split second. With a force that could cause it to deflate, Gojo throws the ball down with his entire strength as he cheers, screaming through the helmet before the huge buzzer overhead goes off and blaring into plenty of ears. 

Their moment of apprehension is replaced with exhilaration as Gojo pulls off his helmet, revealing his white head of beautiful hair, shaking it as sweat beads down his face. His teammates all come to surround him, his coach getting into the mix as they use all of their strength to throw him in the air. The opposing side mopes, heading to their side as they grab their towels and huddle around each other. While disappointment fills their lungs as their coach tries to give words of wisdom, the other party celebrates.

It’s always been overwhelming, moments like this— especially one so big. Soon Gojo will be drafted, leaving college football to go professional and make it within the NFL. There’s already lots of chatter and noise as many people anticipate it. It feels incredulous, though he always expected it. He worked so hard for it and knew he deserved the best, but for it to become closer to him? It feels immaculate to see your dreams coming true before your eyes. They’ve happened to him aplenty, when he graduated high school and got drafted the first time. It closely resembles this, that tight feeling within his chest that’s suffocating him and close to putting him on the brink of death. 

To get to that spot right into the college he’s been wanting to attend since the moment he figured out what he wanted to pursue in life. Everything he put his eye on and decided he wanted, he got it. To know it was through his hard work and dedication to get here, it brings a huge smile on his face.

However, to say he did it all alone would be a lie and a huge disrespect to Geto's name. His close friend stuck with him through it all, holding the same ambitions simultaneously. He put in the same work as Gojo did, landing them both a spot on the same team.The one to pass him the ball and assisting in their victory. The duo was a force to be reckoned with— undeniably good with each other. 

The crowd slowly dissipated around Gojo, finally giving him the space he needed to catch his breath properly. Though, said friend and his coach stayed behind. Gojo extends his arms to be pulled into a tight hug. A retired player himself, the coach engulfs Gojo in pride and happiness for the youth. A burly chuckle that leaves his lips. “Proud of ya, son. You’re one of the strongest I’ve got blessed to work with—” Gesturing to Geto, he drags him into the hug as well. “— You, too, boy! You’ve both made me so proud.”

“Thank you, coach,” they say in unison. 

Out of the helmet, a few strands of Geto’s raven locks have left the band of his bun, the sweat making it stick to his head as he swipes them away. “We probably would’ve gotten our ass handed to us if it weren’t for you.”

“Well, ain’t that damn right!” his coach laughs. “Your football careers would’ve probably ended before they even officially started.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gojo jests, hands resting behind his head as he grins widely. “I’d’ve been fine without you.”

Slapping him in the back of his head as Gojo winces his pain, his coach chortles. “Your ass would’ve been in the ground, for sure, with that cocky attitude of yours.”

The coach leaves not too long afterwards before someone’s walking past the bleachers and onto the football field. You weren’t easily spotted at first, maneuvering yourself past hurdles of men as you can only muster up so many “excuse me’s��� before you’re tired of the repetition. You’re wearing one of Satoru’s jerseys that he got tailored to fit you just right, it is hugging you and your curves that the football players that want to ogle are immediately deterred they see the number of just who you belong to. Geto spots you first, the white-haired man has his back turned as he grabs a few of his things and is ready to head to the locker room before he’s being nudged. “Your trophy’s arrived.”

Knowing exactly who he’s talking about, Gojo spins on his heel right as you’re easier to make out through the shortening distance. That boyish smile that graces his features as he turns into an absolute fool when you’re in his sights. He goes to close the gap, jogging to close it even sooner. You pick up your pace, landing in his arms as you’re quickly engulfed by his sweaty form. You inhale his scent, accustomed to the sweaty musk after a game. He plants a chaste kiss against your neck, humming as his grip tightens.

“You were great out there,” you breathe, arms wrapping around his neck before he detaches himself from yours. “It’s probably the best you’ve ever played.”

“Thanks, babe,” you murmurs, pulling you into a kiss. “Could’ve done infinitely better if you were out there on the field with me.”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t get tired of that stale joke, do you?”

“Because I’m not joking,” he pouts. “If I got to chase after your fine ass out there, we would’ve beat them much faster than we did.”

Pinching his arm so that he can put you down, you immediately go to fix your shirt. You exhale, “Well, you have Geto out there with you. He’s got a nice bubble butt just for you to chase.”

Grimacing, Geto frowns as you come to approach him. He extends his arms to pull you in his embrace. “I don’t think I like your form of objectification. Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah,” Gojo agrees. “I don’t think I like your admittance that you’ve checked out my best friend.”

The hug between you and Geto lasts a little longer than it should, though shorter than your embrace with Gojo. Pulling away from the heat that Geto enfolds you in, you push at his chest as you giggle, kissing Gojo’s pouting cheek in reassurance. Your hands wrap around his waist, one lingering to his ass as you give it a few pats. “Don’t worry, babes. I prefer yours, anyway.” 

The field is diminishing as the three of you linger, the boys getting their things together. You planned on waiting for them not too far along, hanging with a bunch of your girl friends in a group, so that you can feel safer before you leave. Gojo comes to peck your lips once more. “I’ll message you when we’re ready, ‘kay?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Call or text me if you need anything,” he presses.

“Of course, I will,” you assure him, puckering up your lips some more for more affection that he’s glad to give. With a few more farewells before he lets you leave, you’re throwing Geto a temporary goodbye before you’re sauntering down the field again, your hips swaying with every step you take. The two boys watch you leave before Geto’s glancing at Gojo. “Have you told her?”

He knows his best friend all too well, aware that he can prolong things to the absolute last second. And just as he suspected, Gojo shakes his head. “Nah, not yet.”

However, it still brings him to shock that he’d do it for something like this. Something you might not even agree to. “Why not?”

“Because I thought it would be a nice surprise,” he shrugs, his nonchalance picking at Geto’s annoyance. "Makes it sexier.”

“What if she says no?”

“She won’t.”

“Satoru,” Geto digs, crossing his arms as the two finally make their way to the locker room. He can be such a cocky asshole sometimes, so sure of himself until he’s hearing the word ‘no’ and feeling like a fool. And in this case, Geto can also be one if you end up disagreeing. 

“She won’t! I promise you,” Gojo continues reassuring his best friend. He’s seen the way you interact with Geto. You’ve admitted your attraction towards the long-haired brunette before, when he vaguely tried to get your opinion on the proposition of a threesome with him. He never coined the term exactly, but he assumed that through your attraction, it would be something you’re interested in. “I know my girl better than anything. She’s down.”

Geto sighs as he decides to put his trust into Gojo instead of making the decision to delay things in itself. He’s said it before. I know my girl better than anything. While Gojo’s been wrong on plenty of things, so far, when it comes to you, Gojo’s an expert. Punching his arm to elicit a wince, white eyebrows furrowing before glaring at Geto. He doesn’t have to verbally say it, What was that for? 

Geto points in his face, brown eyes boring holes into Gojo’s blue. “You better be right because I’ll beat your ass if you’re not.”

—

From Gojo: hey, the locker room is empty now. just me and geto. come.

You furrow your eyebrows reading Geto’s name. Typically when the locker room is empty, it’s an open invite for sex. And if another person’s in there, it’s not entirely empty as he says it is.

To Gojo: geto?

Immediately, Gojo’s typing in. Three dots bouncing before your phone is vibrating in your hand once more.

From Gojo: just come. wanna talk about something with u

“Hey,” you call for the attention of the girls that around you at a picnic table. They were all nice to stay with you for the time being. “Gojo said he’s ready. I’m gonna go meet up with him.”

“Do you want us to come with?” one of them asks, eyes brightening up as she comes to stand. However, shaking your head, you stop her.

“No, I’m fine from here. Thank you so much, though!” you bid your farewells, showing your gratitude to them repetitively as you walk off. Then, you’re met with the silence of the night, hearing the chirps of cicadas and crickets deep in the grass and the sizzling of the overhead lights illuminating your path as the sky begins to darken. It’s getting chilly as you hold yourself, the short-sleeved jersey and the tight denim jeans barely doing a thing to conceal you and give you warmth. 

When you arrive at the locker room door, you know in a specific rhythm that immediately lets Gojo know that you’re here. Shortly enough, the door swings open as Gojo’s standing before you, dressed down in a pair of baggy gym shorts that stop below his knees and a muscle tee. He pulls you in by the waist, kissing you quickly and leading a path towards Geto. He sports a similar fit to Gojo’s, just replace the shirt with a regular band one. His hair back in a neater bun as he leans against the lockers, arms crossed and one leg on one of the seats. There’s a shift within the air as Gojo sits down next to his leg, making you cock an eyebrow as you grow nervous. “What’s up? Is something the matter?”

“No,” Gojo denies. “Nothing’s wrong. Just need to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?” The tension in the air nips at your skin, bringing you to a comfort that you don’t like. Noticing this, Gojo puts his hand in yours, pulling you down onto his lap to put his lips on yours to ease it. Geto can only watch, shifting to hide the impending erection just in case this goes left. His moist pink lips on yours are sweet. They always are. Making you addicted to them and has you whining when he pulls away. 

“You trust me, right?” Gojo’s blue eyes stare into yours, searching for something that you can’t quite define. Yet, you nod because you do. You always have. “And you know that if you don’t want this, you can say no, right?”

“Want what—”

“If Geto were to kiss you right now,” Gojo interjects. “How’d you feel?”

“‘Toru,” you look at him in confusion, refusing to look over at Geto. “What are you getting at?”

“Man,” Geto finally speaks up. “I told you, you should’ve—”

However, he’s cut off with a hush from Gojo before his focus is right back to you. He takes a deep breath as you’re trying to get a hold of what’s happening before you. Your mind is going to a few possibilities before you land on the right one. But, in denial, you wait for Gojo to continue speaking. “If he were to touch you—” his hands start traveling all over you, from your shoulders down to your thighs to in between your stomach and to in between the crevices of your breasts. Your heart rate starts to increase as well as your breathing as you finally muster up the courage to glance over at Geto, whose eyes are already on you. “—touch you in the way I do. Make you feel good in the way, er, close to the way I do… Would you want that?”

Your eyes haven’t left Geto’s, mind finally wrapping around the current proposition. “You want a threesome?”

Glancing over at his friend, Gojo nods. “Yeah, we’ve talked about it, but we won’t do it if you don’t want to. If you say no—”

“No,” you say so abruptly before you’re sputtering on your words as Gojo’s immediately caught off guard. “Wait, I mean, yes. I agree.”

It takes a moment for either man to register that you’re agreeing to this. That you want to have a threesome. Gojo chokes out a laugh, a grin gracing his features. “You had me on a rollercoaster for a second.” 

“Sorry,” you apologize sheepishly. Geto inches closer to the two of you, hand pushing at the back of Gojo’s head. 

“Guess you were right,” the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “You do know your girl.”

— 

You never took your attraction towards Geto seriously. He was a sweet guy and often people have told you that you should’ve gone for him instead of Gojo. However, you have a type. And while Geto is an angel and if you were to date him, he’d treat you like royalty, you know Gojo’s the one for you. That’s why Gojo has so much trust in you. Knowing that despite it all, you’ll still run to him after this. That despite Geto’s hands on you right now, your back leans against him and holding onto his wrist as he’s got you secure in his hold.

His cock is painfully hard in his gym shorts, pressing into your back as you’re slouched off the seat. Gojo’s hand is snaked under your jersey, your bra hiked over your breasts as they’re pooled out for his enjoyment. Your breathing is heavy, dark nipples puckered and being played with. You’ve let out breathy moans and squeaky whines as the two men are determined to tease you to death. Despite your pleas, Geto continues to play with your pussy through the fabric of your panties, watching how it darkens as your juices soak through it. His thumb would prod at your clit, pressing down as your arousal keeps on coming and pushing through. Your sweet cunt would throb and clench for more, thighs tensing up as the boys sought after your torture. 

Your back arches as you plead, begging Geto to do more. “Please, Sug. Please.”

Then Gojo moves one hand to play with the band of your panties, the hem continuously snapping against your skin as your boyfriend lets Geto continue his teasing. Geto would be a liar to say he’s doing all of this because he loves to see you whine and writh from what he’s doing, but truthfully, it’s not. While he loves seeing how you get so worked up, he enjoys seeing how your pussy can develop so much slick. The bubbles that it forms as you’re just secreting so much that it comes to mess in between your thighs whenever you tighten them together to the point he has to pry your legs open once more. He should stop, his cock painfully hard and wanting nothing more than to empty himself inside of you, but no. Impatience never leads to anything good. 

It feels so good, having you buck your hips out, pressing your body into Gojo and squirming around. You don’t know what you’re doing to your boyfriend, rubbing against him in your lust-fogged mind as you can’t focus on the erection against your back. He wants nothing more than to have you. Fuck that tight pussy of yours and have his fill, but he won’t dare be too hasty for the sake of his best friend. The one down on his knees messing with your pussy as if it were a toy, resembling a cat. But, he himself is growing impatient and he’s afraid that with you pressed into him like this, he’s going to cum earlier than anticipated. 

“C’mon, Sug,” he emphasizes your nickname for Geto. “Give my girl what she wants.”

“Is that why your girl is such a spoiled brat?” the brunette chuckles. “Always giving into what she wants?”

You whine and pout at him Geto. “‘m not—”

“Yeah,” Gojo agrees, turning your head to face him and planting a chaste kiss on your lips. “Maybe if you were more giving, you’d have a girl already.”

You find it obnoxious how even in a moment like this, they find a way to banter with each other. It makes you frown as you jut your hip out forward. “Stop arguing and do something already.”

Finally does Geto inch in closer to your pussy, fingers prodding at the hem of your panties, but not moving it. You can feel his breath against your covered cunt, breathing steadily while you feel like an erratic mess. “And there you go proving me right,” he chuckles. 

His tongue presses against your core, not removing your panties as you hoped, but he presses into your cunt deep that it tickles your folds and has you jolting in Gojo’s arms. You can hear a soft fuck leave Gojo’s lips as he bucks his hips out. Hooded eyelids with his sapphire blue eyes peering down at you as yours are shut now. 

Your braids tickle his bare skin, and surely a bit disheveled at the naughty actions you’re partaking in tonight. However, he can ignore the scratching as he watches Geto enjoy the taste of your pussy, sucking up your slick through the fabric of your panties. It’s a lewd sight that he can’t help but chuckle at, pushing you more into his tongue as Geto’s arms come to grip your thighs and pull you closer to the edge. 

One hand traverses to press a thumb into your clit while he laps at your panties, sucking at it hard to drag your juices out of it. You never thought you’d have found it so hot for a man to eat you out like this, it's enough being able to have you moaning like this. Your folds feel sticky as you leak and leak into your underwear. However, it’s still not enough, your body begging and aching for more to be done to you. You throw your head back, it nearly bangs into Gojo’s as you whimper out. You manage to maneuver a leg around Geto’s shoulder, bringing him closer to your core.

He’s addicted to your taste already, moaning as he feels you wrap yourself around him, slotted in between you and your boyfriend’s legs. Grunting and groaning, his cock strains inside his pants, his pre staining his boxers and surely to show through his shorts. For a girl that’s not even his to have him feeling this way, addicted off of something— someone— that’s not his. 

“Fuck,” he pulls himself off of you, leaving you unsatisfied and wanting more. He pulls your legs off him rather abruptly as he comes to his feet. He doesn’t have to say a word to Gojo, one of his hands already disappearing into the band of your panties to shove two fingers inside of you. It has you screaming out in the locker room, your cries echoing loudly. They can only hope and pray that the janitors on the night shift don’t come inside anytime soon to stop them. 

The stretch is somewhat painful, Gojo’s fingers are long and they hit deep inside of you, touching at your g-spot. He’s easy on you as Geto shuffles with his pants, pulling at the tie and letting it drop to the ground along with his underwear. His cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. He differs from Gojo, where your boyfriend has more length to him, Geto has more girth. His shaft is darker, a fat cock that is slightly over the average. His balls hang heavy as his happy trail is carefully trimmed and is wavy. The only thing you can say that the two resemble is that they’re both cut, no mushroom head to fill you up. 

He inches towards you. The fingers stuffed inside you start to move, your walls wrapping around them greedily as your pussy is so responsive. Your juices pooling down to the base of his fingers and dripping down at the palm of his hands and trickling his wrists. It’s a reason why he loves your pussy so much, so reactive and always soaked. 

Geto’s hand wraps around his length, using his pre to spread it around as he pumped it a few times. With his free hand, he comes to caress your cheek, pulling your head closer to him as he pets and touches you. Your skin his smooth, feeling the short and soft hairs as you react immediately to his soft touch. You relax in Geto’s hold as his cock’s so close to your face, pumping himself that your eyes flicker from his down to his length and back. 

“Look at you,” he says, his voice always so smooth that it could talk someone into murder. “Such a pretty little thing looking to get fucked by another man, one wasn’t enough.”

Gojo clears his throat, but Geto scoffs. “Don’t ruin the moment. Remember, you’re the one to first suggest it to me.”

That piece of information sparks your attention that Geto notices it. He chuckles, his hand grabbing at your chin and forcing you to look up at him even more. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Your boyfriend here wanted to see you get ruined by another man. He’s just as nasty as you are.”

You clench around Gojo’s fingers, a coil forming in your stomach as you try to look back at your beloved. However, Geto forces you to look at him. “Aht aht, look at me, dear. Look at the man that’s gonna stuff your face full of his cock.”

His tip kisses your bottom lip first, smearing his translucent pre on them before he props to the opening. Your mouth opens, but not enough for it to fit. You look up into his brown eyes, purposely teasing as you lick a small stripe on his tip. He shudders at the sensation, but his voice doesn’t falter when he says, “Don’t be stubborn. Open up some more.”

“Oh, just like you made me wait,” your retort has Gojo chuckling, him moving a few of your braids to whisper in your ear, “Oh, be a good girl for Suguru, babe.”

His fingers press deep into your pussy then, having you immediately dropping the act as you mewl and quickly coming to obey your boyfriend’s words. Opening your mouth wider for Geto, the head comes to rest on your tongue as you lull it out. He tsks at your obedience for your boyfriend, finding it cute yet annoying in a circumstance like this. “If I remember correctly, you were the one to agree to this.”

Then, he shoves his cock inside of you, hitting the back of your throat to make you gag and tear up. Your cry out is muffled as you’re forced to take the whole of him before he’s pulling out completely. “So, like your boyfriend said,” he pants. “Be a good girl for me, babe.”

Shortly after is the sound of squelching heard, Gojo’s fingers starting to rapidly fuck into your pussy, the impact of his fingers inside of you, creating such a lewd sound in the night. In another hour, the lights will go pitch dark, so the three of you better be done by then unless you all plan on fucking in it. Your juices pour from your pussy, sticky strings forming simultaneously as Geto enters your mouth once more. 

This time, he’s easier on you, the bottom of his shaft, grazing your tongue as his balls come to hit at your chin when the base hits your lips. He stays there for a moment, adjusting you to him before he feels your mouth closing around him completely. Your face is becoming teary-stained as you momentarily shut them before they flutter back open, the sting not dissipating, however.

You moan around his length, your tongue flattening out against the bottom of his shaft as it comes to swirl around it. You try to focus on his cock while your boyfriend obliterates your pussy with his fingers, bucking your hips into him while doing so in a visceral need. You grind down into him as one hand comes to hold onto Geto’s waist as you slowly begin to bob your head. Geto hisses at the sight before him, looking down on you as he comes to wipe away some of your tears with his thumb. 

You look so pretty like this. Laid up against your boyfriend who’s got you weak in the knees as he fucks into your pussy with his digits. Your sweet nectar dripping down onto the bench and floor as you make a mess of yourself and him. How you manage to stay so level headed keeping up the pace of sucking Geto’s cock, breathing in through your nose as you moan out and send vibrations that go straight to his cock. You’re a dirty little vixen, taking them both like this. It makes the brunette want to cum inside your mouth and your boyfriend wants this to last forever.

His cock’s grown sensitive under the restraints of his pants, pressed into him and rutting like the needy girl that you are. He’s held himself back for so long that he just can’t anymore. His fingers leave you, making you a needy mess as you whine in an attempt to ask for him back. However, he’s lifting you up, pushing you deeper against Geto’s cock and forcing you to take his entire length in your mouth. Still, you behave so well that you continue to suck at it despite it hitting the back of your throat. 

Gojo pulls down his pants and boxer briefs, letting them pool at his feet in a hurry to have himself completely sheathed inside you. Cock bearing free, the tip is red and angry with need that he doesn’t make haste in pulling you down onto him. First, you feel his length against your folds, how he’s grabbing at your hips and bringing you up and down. He glides his length in between your pussy lips, coating it in your juices in preparation before he brings his tip at your entrance, holding his cock to gently push in.

Geto eases himself, pulling you off his cock to watch you adjust to your boyfriend. Watching how your face twists and contorts in pain as you sink down on his length, taking inch by inch. You whimper and pant at the stretch, still holding onto Geto as your nails dig into his skin. When you’re fully sheathed, taking every last bit of Gojo, you’re taking heavy breaths as your boyfriend plants kisses along your neck. “I know, I know,” he whispers into your ears. “You did so good for me.”

“Feel so full,” you babble out, whining out as Gojo’s hands are at your waist, starting to bob you up and down on his length. It’s then that Geto’s back inside your mouth, taking control as he knows that you’ll now be unable to focus. He grabs a handful of your braids, pulling your mouth onto his cock. Eyes mouth shut as you moan out at both intrusions, you let your body be used for their pleasure. Your body bouncing as both men fuck into you. All that can be heard is their moans against the slapping of skin and your muffled noise. Your hands are digging so much into Geto’s skin that you might draw blood, but he can’t find it within himself to care when you’re making him feel so good. 

“Shit,” he curses, eyes shut as his mouth hangs open, hips rutting into your mouth. Saliva begins to drip from the corners as his fingers dig into your scalp, both hands preoccupied in them. Gojo’s lips are on your bare skin as he uses his strength to fuck you onto him, your pussy clenching around him as the slapping of skin sounds the entire locker room. The stench of your pussy fills their air, your smell so potent that Gojo recognizes it within a matter of seconds. It has his chest grumbling out as if he’s a feral animal, burying his nose deep into your skin as he sucks into it. 

Your pussy clenches and pulsates as you didn’t know it’d feel so good to be used like this, thinking that the videos you’ve seen of women being railed by two men to be an act. However, Geto and Gojo’s doing such a good job, ten times better than what you’ve seen before. Saliva pools heavily in your mouth, escaping it and pouring down your chin as you can barely keep your eyes open. Your mind is filled with everything dirty, not managing to stay focused on a single one as a familiar band reaches you. 

Your moans become more high-pitched and you start slapping Geto’s side. Gojo curses the signs heavily there. “S-shit,” he stutters as he feels himself twitch inside you, his orgasm approaching him as well. “She’s gonna cum.”

Geto doesn’t say anything, only fucking into your mouth harder and egging on Gojo as his thrusts up into you become brutal. Your sounds become choppy as he brings you into a quick release, your cream coating his cock in a matter of seconds as he continues fucking with a vigor. The tears that Geto wiped away are back as your sensitive folds become overworked as Gojo doesn’t stop until he’s relieved himself inside you. 

His leg tenses up before that sweet cunt of yours is milking him, flexing and contracting as your mouth is full of Geto’s load inside of you. He pants heavily as he watches your body convulse the longer Gojo stays inside you. It’s as if the three of your bodies were in sync with each other. Gojo emptying himself in you to the brim that his seed starts pushing him out. He drags you off his cock and pulls you back into him further as he can no longer stay upright. He brings you to lay against his back with him and it’s such a sight to behold that Geto’s cock hardens again in a manner of seconds. Your cunt is open and spread, just his for the taking. He can’t help himself for falling onto his knees and pushing you open.

Feeling him against both of you, you and Gojo bring your heads up to see Geto right at your cunt. It takes you too long to process, unable to utter a word and only able to cry out when you feel his lips enveloping your labia. Your folds were covered in yours and Gojo’s cum, a delicacy he wanted to try and uncaring for the man that laid claim on your cunt with his seed. Take it as him cleaning you up, a thank you for letting him have you in such a vulnerable way. 

You jolt in Gojo’s arms, but he holds you tight, his cock hardening once more himself as he watches his best friend eat away at both of your releases. You’re sensitive, he knows, but fuck is this hot. You thrash in his arms, crying out but never saying no. The only thing Gojo does to soothe you are the sweet kisses and an infinite circle drawn into your skin, telling you that you can take this. Geto doesn’t pull away until your cunt is shining and gets rid of the white.

Gojo’s eyes dilate as he’s back to sitting up and caught into the spur of the moment, catching Geto off guard when he says, “let me have a taste,” before his mouth is on him and he can taste himself and you on his best friend’s lips. You find yourself stuck in between the homoerotic scene shared amongst the two best friends, your body humming back to life that you mewl out. It’s long before they’re pulling away, pink tongues dancing against each other as the flavor is embedded into their taste buds.

Heavy panting and breathing as none of you say a word, simply digesting everything that happened. However, the jingle of keys are enough to have you all rejuvenated with energy as the door swings open. The unsuspecting voice calling out as they still see that the lights are on and a few bags thrown down haphazardly. They must’ve been wearing headphones to not hear the raunchy actions taking place prior. 

“Hello,” a voice of a man in his late forties. “Is anyone here?”

( author's note. ) SATOSUGU MY BELOVEDDDD ‼️

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Past the Point of No Return

Yandere Fae Enemy General x Healer Fem Reader

TW: Yandere themes, yearning, delusional behavior, etc.

Corvin Fausto was never one to believe in fate. He truly believed he’d never find his destined one since he lived a life of war. He was the young general of the fae army and lead them to numerous victories against the invading humans… but their elven brethren that turned their backs on the fae and began to help the humans. Which made this war suddenly shift against the fae. A betrayal the fae could not forgive the once peaceful elves for.

He was able to hold the enemy forces back long enough to escape, but they had damaged his wings beyond immediate repair. He’d likely have to go into hiding for a few months until he’d recover… but how? He was being relentlessly hunted by humans.

Corvin hid himself in a small cave, hopeful he could rest here for a while without getting caught… but his hopes were dashed when he saw the form of a young woman tilt her head at him in curiosity.

“Hello? Is someone there?” Corvin didn’t dare speak when a young elf appeared before him. Her beauty was unparalleled, but her ears were much smaller than most elves… she was a half elf.

(Your name) gasped at his wounds in shock. She quickly reached into her satchel to pull out various salves to put on his wounds.

Corvin made an attempt to try to push her away, but he was so weak from blood loss. The last thing he saw was her smiling face as she reassured him with her soft words, “it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

When Corvin came to, he was shocked to find himself in a warm cabin rather than in the forest. His eyes were wild as he searched around but he quickly winced when he shifted his wings too sharply. Corvin was surprised to be patched up and cleaned… where was his armor?

“Oh! You’re awake!” Corvin whipped his head around to spot (your name) leave her bedroom, a soft smile on her lips. “Are you hungry? I have some soup over the fire-“

“I’m your enemy.” Corvin told her with a glare. “You should have left me to die-“

Corvin was shocked when (your name) shook her head and gave him a smile. “That doesn’t matter. You still needed help and it’s my job as a healer to help the wounded.”

Corvin was surprised when she went over to the hot cauldron to pour him a bowl of soup. The half elf placed the bowl beside him. “You can recuperate here for the time being. I’m helping you simply because I want to.”

“My name is Corvin Fausto. What’s your name?”

“I’m (your name).” She gave him a gentle smile that reminded him of spring. And for the first time in Corbin’s long life, he felt his heart flutter.

Corvin hesitantly drank the soup before he smiled softly to himself. He’s never received such care before… did he truly deserve her kindness?

As the days melted into months, Corvin grew attached to (your name). She was kind yet she was stern. Her care never had ulterior motives yet she also didn’t allow him to disrespect her because of her race. She fascinated him. For the first time in his life, Corvin was enthralled.

Corvin found himself helping her around the humble abode. He’d clean, gather herbs with her, fetch firewood, or help her cook. It was such a domestic life together that Corvin slowly began to wonder if she’d want to continue to live a life like this with him. Would she want an idyllic life?

“It’s been really nice having you around, Corvin.” (Your name) beamed at the fae who blushed. His hands itched to intertwine with hers. “I think you have a week left until you’re fully healed!”

Corvin felt his blood run cold with the words. A week… did she want him to leave? He thought they had a special relationship. No. He wouldn’t let her go! (Your name) was his destined mate. The one he’s waited his whole life for… and he’d be damned if she rejected him.

“If you ever get injured again, my door is always open-“ (your name) is surprised when she’s suddenly pulled into his arms in a tight embrace. “Corvin?”

“Come back with me… no.” Corvin thought for a moment. His people would terrorize her if he brought her back, they could hurt her. He could abandon them right? The fae would understand… a destined one was a rule they all abided by. “Let’s just stay together here, in your cabin.”

(Your name) raised a brow. “What do you mean, Corvin?”

(Your name) felt her blood run cold at the crazed look in Corvin’s eyes. “We can live together here in your cabin, far from everyone… far from the war.”

Corvin glanced around the cabin with eagerness. “I think there’s space for two little ones… we can start our life here!”

(Your name) tried to pull herself away from his grip, but Corvin was latched on like a tick. “Corvin, you’re scaring me.”

“You’re my destined one.” Corvin replied in a breathy whisper. “That’s why you saved me despite me being your enemy… you saved me because you knew we were meant to be.”

[sttm99]

Bakugo understands that he spends a lot of money on you for just being his personal assistant. But he can't help it.

You honestly deserve it. You're smart, responsible, diligent. You're a hard worker with principles, and your work ethic is something he respects.

It didn't matter how many people were against him promoting you from secretary to PA so soon in your career. Your work was top notch, and you kept him organised.

Sure, you were pretty as well, a sight for sore eyes, really. But that wasn't his fault, was it? It wasn't your fault either.

It's not like you came into work every day with full glam, diamond earrings, or elaborate hairstyles.

It had pissed him off at first, when people demeaned you or underestimated your work because of your looks, especially when he knew you worked so hard so you wouldn't be considered some dumb corporate bimbo.

But now? Now he loved it. He loved when he had clients over, and they'd do a double take when he sent for you to take notes or deliver documents to his table.

He'd noticed the modesty with which you'd dressed when you first started working for him, how you tried to dim yourself with drab colours that obviously washed you out, or plain hairstyles.

Not like it stopped anybody from being able to tell how pretty you were.

But after, when you'd started garnering his attention and racking up more bonuses from your diligence, he began noticing you wearing nicer things.

Of course, you had to up your wardrobe once you were promoted to the role of Personal Assistant to one of the biggest heroes in Japan. But that wasn't it.

Bakugo loved seeing you walk in with a new shirt or new shoes or new earrings after he'd rewarded you a bonus or a pay increase. There was a sort of high he got, knowing that you took care of yourself with the money he gave you.

Oh, he spoilt you rotten.

Month end rewards became the norm for you. He just closed a hefty advertising deal? Best believe you were getting a cut out of that. He was given a bottle of champagne as a gift? You're drinking it with him in his office.

Sure, it may have seemed a bit inappropriate to some people; him locking the doors and closing the windows, and having you sit on his lap prettily whilst he poured it out into a flute for you.

Sure, it was inappropriate for him to have his hands up your skirt as you recounted the month end figures for him, but you were comfortable that way. He was, too. Oh, so comfortable with your hands inside his trousers and his teasing at the lining of your panties.

He was just taking care of his best employee.

And maybe he did spend a lot of money on you, but you had to keep up appearances. He needed you looking your best when you were next to him.

It wasn't his fault you were so beautiful that brands reached out to him to get you to model for then after seeing you appear in some pictures by his side.

It wasn't his fault that he couldn't get anyone else to come with him to the Hero Gala. Besides, you're meant to be with him during these things to take notes for him. So having you as his date was basically killing two birds with one stone.

"Your assistant's fucking sexy," Kaminari whispered into Bakugo's ear, both of them watching you go to order a drink for your boss.

Bakugo smirked to himself, his eyes raking over your body, clad in the tight fitting dress he'd bought for you to wear. He'd also bought the earrings you had on, and the shoes and the necklace. Sure, it cost him quite a lot, but he just couldn't help it when you looked so good.

"She's single, isn't she?"

Now, that had him snapping his head in Kaminari's direction. "Don't even fucking think about."

Kaminari whined, "But why? She's your assistant, not your sister or your girlfriend."

"She's my assistant," Bakugo seethed, standing up from his seat. "She's my employee, and I won't have you lowering her efficiency." He murmured as he made his way to where you were.

You smiled brightly as you turned around to see him, handing him the second glass of champagne in your hands. "You look like you'd rather be somewhere else." You laughed softly.

He grinned down at you before downing the drink quickly. "I would," he said before dropping his glass back on the bar. "Come on."

He spoilt you rotten, but he couldn't help it. You looked so beautiful in your tight dress and pretty hair and beautiful face.

Sure, being seated on the sink and having your legs spread before his lips in the bathroom at the Hero Gala may have been a tad inappropriate, but how could he stop himself?

You were quivering for him, thighs pressing down and shaking on either side of his head, and your fingers gripping harshly at his hair, pulling him even closer as you rutted your heat against his lips.

He let out a desperate groan, burying his face deeper into your cunt, eating you out shamelessly, hungrily.

"Fuuck..." He growled into you.

You'd been so shy the first time he had his way with you, refusing to touch him, grind on him, behaving so meek and cute.

Now look at you, so selfish and desperate, almost suffocating him as he feasted. He spoilt you rotten, sure, but you deserved every morsel of it.

"Katsuki..." You whined desperately, your back arching off the mirror, the hand not pulling at his hair tightly gripping the edge of the counter. "Katsuki, I'm so close... I'm so fucking close, baby-"

His hands dug into the flesh of your ass, pulling your harsher into him, your clit pressing against his nose as his tongue made a meal of you. He was always so desperate for it, digging the wet muscle so far into your pussy you saw stars.

And he was messy too, his saliva and your arousal staying your thighs, dripping from the marble counter unto the ground as he ate from you.

Anyone who came in after would probably be able to tell from the smell of the bathroom alone. The cum leaking unto the floor would only solidify it.

But the thought of someone finding out that your boss had his face buried deep in your pussy wasn't exactly what you were thinking about when you came for him, hard and rough, your hips shaking and raising off the counter as you rode out your high.

"We shouldn't be doing such during events, sir." You whispered to him as you both walked down the corridors back into the hall where the gala was being held.

He had his large palm over your ass, groping you just in the dark of the hallway, letting go just as you stepped into the crowded hall.

"Just be a good girl and wait for me to fuck you on the way home, hm?" He smirked at you, a small sheen still visible on his lips.

He never cleaned his mouth properly after eating you out during such events. It was inappropriate, sure, but he just couldn't help himself.

[wosohours]

not close enough - alexia putellas x reader

word count: 1854

“Alexia, I told you that I wouldn’t be able to hang out today because I needed to focus on my work,” you say in a serious tone toward the blonde standing in your doorway.

“I know that mi amor but I missed you so much. I feel like we haven’t been spending much time together because of our schedules,” Alexia gives you a cute pout as she raises two bags, “but look I brought you food and snacks and these pretty flowers you like.”

Biting back a smile you stand to the side signaling that she can come in. You knew that if you did not let her in now she would find her own way in, whether that be crawling through your window, again, or calling your mother who would convince you to let her in.

“Thank you. I appreciate it, baby,” you tell her as she speeds past you towards your kitchen.

“I just want to take care of my girl, bebé. I don’t like it when you work too much and stress yourself out,” she states while grabbing your waist to pull you into a tight hug.

“I only work so much so that I have more free time to spend with you, and also money to spoil you. You deserve to be catered to as well.”

Alexia can’t help but smile at your words as she kisses your neck. “While I really appreciate that amor, you know that just being in your company is more than enough for me.”

“I’m glad that you feel that way but I still have to work, these bills aren’t gonna pay themselves,” you tell her as you tickle the sides of her stomach, making her giggle and release you from her tight grip.

“Move in with me and I’ll pay your bills,” Alexia states. “We’ll talk about that later, but I’m not letting you pay my bills,” you roll your eyes as you open one of the food boxes she brought which was filled with some of your favorite pastries.

“We’ll see,” she shrugs, coming up behind you to take a bite of one of the pastries already in your hand.

____________________

“Thank you for breakfast, but I really need to get back to work. I have two more meetings today and then I’m all yours,” you tell your girlfriend as you pick up her plate to bring to the sink.

“I don’t want to leave you here alone,” she says, grabbing the dishes from your hand so she can wash them. “I’ll be fine, but if you really want to stay you can watch TV in my room or the living room,” you tell not really paying attention to her as you grab your computer and headphones.

“I’ll be in my office if you need anything just text me, okay?” you tell her while blowing her a kiss from the door of your office. As you are closing the door you catch her pretending to grab the kiss from the air and place it on her heart.

____________________

Though your relationship is not even a year old Alexia can’t help but be absolutely obsessed with you. She always wants to be around you, always thinking of you, and everything she sees and does can all be traced back to you.

This feeling was so new and different to Alexia that it scared her so much that she called her mother panicking. Of course, Eli calmed her down and gave her reassurance that this was a good feeling but told her if it bothered her that much then she should talk to you about it and take it slow.

A couple of days later when Alexia sat you down and told you how she felt she was relieved to know that you felt the same way and that you were more than happy to continue the relationship at whatever pace she needed.

It turned out that Alexia did not need to go as slow as she thought. Soon after your talk she was bringing you over to meet her mother and sister and hinting at you moving in with her, but you kind of talked her out of the latter, at least for now.

You two have been nothing but in love and happy and that is all Alexia could ask for.

____________________

After about an hour of laying around your living room and tidying up things here and there, Alexia gets bored and decides to go into your room. She flops on your bed on what she has claimed ‘her side’ and lays there in silence, basking in the atmosphere of your space.

The smell of your perfume she loves so much lingers in the air making her take deep breaths. As she turns over to your side she can smell the scent of the new shampoo you are trying out in your pillow making her smile.

She looks at your nightstand to see a framed picture of you two. The same one she has at home on her nightstand. As she reaches over to grab it she notices that you have one of her captain’s armbands. Alexia laughs at the thought of you stealing it from her bag. She holds it up to take a selfie and sends it to you.

To: Mi Reina 💕

“You are a little thief.”

*sent attachment*

Alexia gets up from the bed and into your walk-in closet. She can’t help but smile at the two different spots you have cleared out, one being a drawer for her clothes, and the other being her jerseys that you have bought or ones that she has given you.

From: Mi Reina 💕

“technically I didn’t steal it. i remember being told ‘take it off of me.’🙃”

After reading your message Alexia closed her eyes and let her head fall back with a deep sigh as she remembered that intense intimate night after the Champions League Final game.

Shaking her head out of thought she sends a reply back.

To: Mi Reina 💕

“Get back to work.”

From: Mi Reina 💕

“😭sorry baby. i was just getting the facts straight.”

Alexia rolls her eyes and smiles, putting her phone in her pocket before going back to look around your closet.

She reaches up to take your favorite hoodie off the hanger and brings it up to her nose, inhaling more of your perfume. Even though she is at your house, in your room, and you are on the other side of the wall she still can’t help but feel you aren’t close enough, so she strips off her FC Barcelona Nike jacket and tugs your hoodie over her head.

Ale lays down in your bed once again, this time on your side, and when she realizes that you aren’t going to be done with work any time soon she decides to just take a nap.

____________________

After both of your meetings, you get up from your desk to stretch and check on Alexia. You walk past the kitchen and living room when you notice she isn’t there and go straight towards your room.

When you open the door you see Alexia sleeping peacefully on her stomach with her face shoved into your pillow.

“Hey baby,” you whisper quietly, as you gently rub her back coaxing her out of her nap. Her eyes flutter open and she gives you a sleepy smile. “Are you done with work?” she whispers.

“No, I am done with my meeting though and I’m taking a break. Do you want to make some lunch?” you ask her.

Alexia nods her head as she sits up and stretches, letting out a small yawn.

“I see you stole my hoodie, who’s the thief now?” you tease, making her let out a little laugh.

You grab her hand and pull her out of the room towards the kitchen where you pull out ingredients to make sandwiches.

Alexia sits at the kitchen bar where she watches you with a loving gaze. When you are done making the sandwiches you pass Alexia her plate and a water bottle.

“Are you done with work?” she asks before taking a bite. “No, I still have emails to answer but I can probably get through those quickly,” you answer.

“Can you answer them on the couch and I sit with you?” she asks.

“I could, but you might be a little distracting,” you smirk at her as you take another bite.

“I am not distracting,” she pouts, crossing her arms which makes you laugh. “You can be sometimes, but it’s not always a bad thing. I like that you always want to be around me.”

“I just love you very much. Since we met, I have always wanted to be around you,” she tells you in an almost shy tone.

You walk around the bar to turn her chair so that you can stand in between her legs. Putting your hands on her cheeks you tell her, “You’re such a lover girl. I love you so much.” She leans in and pecks your lips multiple times.

“Go sit on the couch I am going to go grab my computer and I’ll meet you there,” you tell her pulling away.

____________________

“Alexia I cannot sit in your lap and do my work,” you tell her trying to pull away.

“And why not?” she asks.

“Because I said so,” you finally get free from her and sit on the other edge of the couch where you stretch your legs out and set your computer on your lap.

“Put a match on the TV or your ‘Love is Blind’ show,” you tease her knowing that she doesn't want to admit to liking that sort of show.

“I do not like ‘Love is Blind’ Don’t tell anyone that,’ she demands like she has been caught doing something wrong.

You can’t help but let out a loud laugh at the panicked expression on her face. “Oh really? I’ve caught you watching it multiple times, and did you forget we share a Netflix account? I can see everything that you watch.”

She lets out a puff of air and you can hear her mumble a ‘whatever.’

“You literally like to tell me all the red flags you see in these people. It’s okay baby, you know I’m not one to judge,” you say, raising your hands in a ‘surrender’ position.

Lifting your computer off your lap you motion for her to come lay between her legs. Alexia immediately replaces her pout with a big smile as she moves to lay her head on your stomach. “Is this close enough for you baby?” you ask her.

“It’s okay for now, I wish I could be in your skin,” she replies.

“Um. Okay,” you whisper to yourself a little stunned.

Still needing to work you place your computer on her back like a little table.

“Let me know if it gets too hot on your back,” you tell her as you kiss her head.

Alexia nods her head as she grabs the remote to turn on the TV…to ‘Love is Blind.’

[paigeluvvr]

happy birthday

paring: paige b x reader

warning: sumttt dom paige, fingering, strap on sex, squirting

summary: you let paige fuck you good and hard on her birthday…

you and paige are on y’all’s way to the bar, where she decided to go for her birthday. “i know i told you like 6 times already but, happy birthday baby.” paige laughs at that “thank you baby i love you so much.” “i love you too!”

yall make it to the bar and paige gets out to open your door. yall walk to the door hand intertwined with the other. yall walk in to see azzi, caroline, kk, and ice. yall walk you to the and greet one another. “ happy birthday p.” azzi says and so does caroline. “p, come do some birthday shots.” kk says. (kk is not drinking underage!) “baby i am going to go with kk, ok.” “ok baby have fun.” now it is just you and azzi and caroline. ice decided to you with kk and paige. “y/n you should come to our first game.” azzi says and caroline agrees. “i would love to but i can get tickets, sorry.”

yall have been at the bar for two hours now and you are sure paige is very tipsy. “imma go look for p.” you say “ok” caroline answers for them both. you soon find her by the bar ordering like her third dirty shirley. “hey, p you having fun.” “sooo much fun!’’ she slurred her words together. “i’m glad you are so just tell me when your ready to leave.” “otay”

after another two hours you said that yall left. but it was your girlfriend’s birthday she deserved a night out. “baby can you help me take a shower.” you laugh at how tipsy and whiny she sounded. “yeah baby just one second.”

“ok can you wash me please?” she asked “since you ask nicely, i can.” you grab the lavender body wash a gift you gave her, and lathered it up on her towel. soon as you start washing her she relaxes under your touch.

“ok baby i am done bathing you and me so we can get out now.” you help her out, because if she did it herself she would have fell. “baby come on, do you think you can dress your self?” you asked “yeah” you are already dressed and is just setting up the bed for sleep and just putting the extra pillows on the floor. “baby do you brush your teeth like i told you to?” “ma, you never told me to do that.” she pouted and went to go brush her teeth.

she finally makes it to bed and you notice the strap in her hand. “your planning on fucking me with that again?” “yeah i don’t see the problem. you loved it the first time.” she said all confused “i not saying it in a bad way i was just asking.” you tell her “oh sorry” she say and you remember all the air in your lungs was being suck out.

paige starts to move on you. she then takes your shirt off “so beautiful your all mine yeah?” “yes paige i am all your nobody except you.” you moan as she sucks on your nipple.

she takes the rest of your clothes off so your bear in front of her. “i want to give you another gift.” you say “what is it?” you pretend to think to tease her. “you can fuck me however you want.” her eyes lit up at this and she ask “are you sure?” “yep, happy birthday!” after you say that she wasted no time to shove her fingers in your dripping cunt. “oh fuck!” you yell and she immediately speeds up her fingers.

“you like that huh?” she says “yes, you do you love mommy’s fingers in the tight pussy.” she then starts to lapping at your clit.”oh go-d.” your voice is shaking. you are literally on the brink of crying because is feel so good. she starts to slow her finger down “don’t stop, keep going.” she laughs at how needy you are being. “baby i thought you wanted me to fuck you with my strap?” “i do, but i want you to let me finish off your fingers.” you pouted. “ohh baby why didn’t you just say so.” she asked “i just told you.” you says as you rolled your eyes. at this she grabs your chin to make you look at her “don’t be roll your eyes, and might want to watch that attitude.” she tell you and she is right you just told her that she could fuck you how she wanted to. “yes ma’ma” at that response she shoves her finger back in you dripping hole again.

you are on your second orgsam because of her fingers. “paige g-gonna cu-m!” you tell her “come on baby cum for me.” your orgsam feels different this time. you screamed so loud you knew the neighborhood knew what yall were doing. then you noticed you just squirted all over paige. “aww baby look at that.” she tells you. you cover your face in embarrassment put she quickly pulls them away. “no reason to be embarrassed baby i know i am that good.” you then sit up to suck her boob. she then pushes you back on the bed and says “no i am fucking you tonight remember?” you nod your head.

“god paige y-your so big.” you says as she has been fucking you with the strap for ten minutes. “you like it right.” you nod your head but she doesn’t take that. “talk or i will stop.” she says so you say “yes i love it.” you moaned out as she speed up her pace. you feel the same band in your stomach start to form. “gonna cum again.” but soon as you say that she said “hold it.” you look confused “yeah i said hold it love.” after she says that she flips you over so you on all fours.

she then fucks you long and hard your fear you might stop breathing. “ how is that.” she ask you as she fucks you from behind. “s-so good.” you surprised yourself with be able to talk after she already made you cum 7 times. “you gonna cum for mommy?” “yeah” with that your cumming and you feel you are going to pass out.

“you okay baby?” paige asks all nicely. when she was just wrecking you. “yeah better than ok” yall are cuddled up in the bed ready to sleep. “happy birthday again, i love you.” you tell paige. “thank you baby, i love you more!”

i was supposed to have this out at 10:00 but i took a long break…and this is my first long fic so…

taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @p0rtaled @paigestrap @bbydoll18xx @bueckersstrap @pbnbucks @pb524830 @ohbueckers @cosmopretty

[punkshort]

Roommates | 10. just us two

Pairing: (ex)pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel settle into your new lives together.

Chapter Warnings: language, alcohol and food consumption, massive quantities of fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex (reader is on BC), oral sex (f!receiving), spanking, pussy pronouns, multiple orgasms, some sex tape action 👀

WC: 7.1K

A/N: Okay, we've reached the end of the road for these two! I can't believe I'm wrapping up another fic, jfc. Thank you so much for sticking around and expressing so much love and excitement for this story. It means so much to me that I'm able to share this part of myself with people who are just as happy as me about these characters. This chapter wasn't really necessary, most loose ends are already tied up but they deserved to be happy, so this entire chapter is just love and fluff and smut. Shout out to @txtattoostark for listening to me yap and for the watermelon moonshine inspo. Enjoy, and thanks again ❤️

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Joel smiled to himself as he watched you in the kitchen with his mom from his spot in the living room. The old radio next to the sink, dusty and missing two buttons, was softly playing jazz music while you both worked on dinner. It wasn't the trailer park he grew up in. The small ranch house his mother bought with the life insurance money she received after his father passed away wasn't too bad. He begged her for years to let him give her some money, to buy her a place closer to town, to pay for new appliances at the very least, but she always refused. Instead, he found himself visiting her whenever he had a few days off so he could fix the sink or the washer or cut the grass.

He didn't mind. It was a good excuse to come visit. He enjoyed catching up and spending time with her.

But now, with you? Watching the way you seamlessly moved around the kitchen, laughing with his mom and stirring things in pots while swaying your hips in those tight denim shorts... yeah, this was different. This was much better.

"Hey, brother," Tommy said from behind, startling him out of his rosy daydream. Joel stood with a smile to engulf Tommy in a hug once he kicked off his shoes.

"You look tan," he remarked, then reached for Maria and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"New Orleans was sunny," Tommy said, holding some bottle of clear alcohol in his hand. "Brought back some moonshine. Watermelon. Mama's favorite."

"Oh, Tommy! Maria! You're back!" their mother cried from the kitchen before wiping her hands on a towel and hurrying over to the front door, her worn out blue slippers catching on the rug as she walked. "How was your honeymoon?" she asked after she squeezed them both within an inch of their lives.

"Amazing," Maria said happily. "We had such a great time. Have you ever been?"

Mrs. Miller shook her head. "Maybe James will take me one day."

"Is he here?" Tommy asked, handing his mother the liquor.

"No, he's visiting his daughter out of town this weekend. Come on, I have some snacks out."

The four of them entered the kitchen and you swiveled around with a big smile. Setting down the wooden spoon you were holding, you threw your arms around Maria's neck, then Tommy's.

"How was it?" you asked them, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

You and Maria fell into an animated conversation about some haunted ghost tour when Tommy cleared his throat and propped his hands on his hips.

The pair of you stopped talking to look at him questioningly, then realization dawned on you. You smirked and shook your head before digging into your back pocket to pull out a folded bill and slapped it into his palm.

"You were right, Tommy."

He laughed and tucked the money into his shirt pocket.

"Thought you mighta forgot."

Joel frowned and looked between the two of you curiously, but Maria seemed to know exactly what was going on because she was already chuckling to herself.

You glanced over at Joel, who was eating a cracker with cheese, and your expression softened. "Best hundred bucks I ever lost."

"The hell you givin' him a hundred bucks for?" Joel asked incredulously, but you just slipped your arms around his waist and rested your chin against his chest with a smile.

"I lost a bet," you told him.

He practically melted into a puddle under your touch. He couldn't get enough. After a year of denying yourselves or sneaking around, it felt so good to be open. He refused to ever take it for granted, so he tilted your face up and pressed a tender kiss against your lips. He felt your mouth twitch into a smile when Tommy groaned in fake disgust.

"Thought we were the newlyweds here."

You broke the kiss to shoot him a look over your shoulder.

"Try and keep up."

Joel tossed his head back and laughed, then released his hold on you so you could return to the stove. Maria washed her hands and picked up a knife to chop vegetables and Tommy reached for the bottle of moonshine their mother left on the counter.

"Let's crack into this," he said, and Joel nodded. He weaved through the kitchen to open up the cupboard where the glasses were kept, grabbing five tumblers. You were swaying again with the music and you gently knocked into him with your hips, just enough to tease him, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"Watch yourself, baby," he warned with a wink before placing the glasses down next to Tommy so he could pour.

Joel couldn't remember a time he had seen his mother look so happy. The five of them sat around her dining room table, a table made for four but you all squeezed in, knees knocking together underneath, arms brushing against one another, and it felt perfect.

He leaned back in his chair after finishing his food, one arm draped along the back of your chair, his other hand loosely holding his glass of moonshine and he smiled. He tried to pay attention to Maria and his brother tell stories about their honeymoon, but he had a hard time looking away from you. Eventually, he stopped trying. His gaze slid down your face, admiring your smile and the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed.

He was so fucking lucky.

Tearing his eyes away to bring his glass to his lips, he caught his mother watching him across the table with a knowing smile. She winked at him before giving Tommy her attention once again and Joel felt his face warm.

Once dinner was over, he and Tommy stood to clear everyone's plates. A habit that was formed early on in their lives. Whoever didn't cook had to clean up.

After the dishes were done and the leftovers were packed away, the two brothers refilled their glasses and wandered out to the back porch where their mother, you and Maria had ended up.

Maria and Mrs. Miller were strolling around the yard, their mother pointing out plants and flowers and telling Maria some long winded story about each. The deer hate this one. Cindy up the street cut a chunk of this out of her garden for me, can you believe how big it is now? I got this from Home Depot on clearance half dead, look how good it's doing.

"Better go save her," Tommy murmured before jogging down the steps. Joel plopped himself next to you on the porch with a sigh and clinked your glasses together.

"Lucky you already got the flower tour earlier," he told you.

You bit your lip and chuckled. "She really loves her garden."

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes. The sun was setting and you could hear the crickets coming to life all around you. Birds swooped anxiously overhead, rushing back to their nests for the night. A cool breeze floated through the air, rustling your hair and making you shiver.

"C'mere," he murmured, patting his thigh. You smirked and shook your head but put your glass down and stood to perch on his leg, wrapping your arms around his neck lovingly and giving him a chaste kiss.

He hummed in approval and licked his lips. "Taste good."

"Like watermelon?" you asked, fingers twisting around the long strands of hair on the back of his head.

He nodded. "And you."

You kissed him once again, lingering a bit longer that time so you could fully appreciate the softness of his lips between yours and breathing in deep the scent of soap still stuck to his skin.

Then voices began to grow louder behind you, indicating your alone time was coming to an end.

Tommy stumbled on the stairs leading up the porch and you turned around on Joel's lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you right where you were, before teasing his brother.

"Better take it easy. You been out for two weeks at work, you ain't callin' in tomorrow 'cause you're hungover."

Tommy rolled his eyes and took your abandoned chair.

"Yes, boss."

"How are things at the bar, Joel?" his mother asked, sitting down with a sigh. "I'm so glad you found some work I can actually tell my girlfriends about without lying."

You stifled a giggle and glanced at Maria, who was also trying to hold back her laughter.

"Good, Mama," Joel said, ignoring her other comment. His chin came to rest over your shoulder as he spoke. "The remodel is done. Opened up the room so there's a place to dance. Easier for customers to move around. Everyone's been real excited to see the changes. Been busy."

"He's been working so hard, too," you added, twisting to your side so your fingers could lovingly rake through the hair on the back of his neck. "Some days I don't even see him."

Mrs. Miller gave you a sympathetic look but you could tell she was proud of her oldest son for venturing outside his comfort zone and applying himself.

"So you're all moved in, I take it?" Maria asked, and you nodded.

"Didn't really have much. Most of my things were still packed from when I moved out."

"She's been sprucin' up the place, too. You oughta see it," Joel said fondly. "Got pretty lookin' art on the walls, fluffy pillows and blankets for the couch. Actually got some food in the damn fridge, too."

Tommy laughed heartily. "That mean you'll stop swipin' fries and shit from the kitchen?"

"Hey, I'm payin' for those fries. I'll take 'em if I want 'em," he said with a scowl, then looked up at you, his eyes softening. "But it's nice to have dinner waitin' for me at home," he added, bringing a smile to your face.

"You were always terrible at cooking," you teased, tugging on his earlobe playfully between your fingers.

The night dragged on, the stars lit up the quiet night sky and Mrs. Miller eventually began to yawn, indicating it was time to head home.

Home.

It felt so right to think of it that way. It was where you belonged. But you knew it wasn't simply the house. You could have been living in a shack and you would still be just as happy because it was with him.

Joel gripped your thigh while he drove his truck with one hand on the steering wheel. The windows were down, the wind whipped at your face, tangling your hair when you turned your head to gaze over at him.

"See anythin' you like?" he teased when he spotted you admiring him from the corner of his eye.

You giggled and felt his fingers squeeze your bare leg.

"You know what I want?"

The corner of his mouth tugged upwards and his eyes darkened with excitement. "What's that, sweetheart?"

You seductively ran your palm up his arm, sighing at the way his muscles twitched under your fingertips.

"I would really, really love... a vegetable garden."

You laughed at the way his face fell in mock disappointment.

"I'll build you a vegetable garden," he finally said as he turned onto your street.

"Really?" you asked with a huge smile. He nodded and shot you a wink.

"'Course. Whatever you want, baby."

Joel stayed true to his word. About a week later you woke up on Saturday morning to the distant sound of a hammer beating a piece of wood in the backyard. Stretching a lazy arm out to your side, you pouted when you found Joel was missing.

Then the pieces slowly clicked together.

It was a rare weekend off for him. You had been talking about it for the past few days. He was looking forward to Tommy returning to work so he wouldn't be so short staffed and he could relax with you for two whole days. You didn't come up with any plans except laying in bed, ordering takeout and watching movies, content to just spend time together. But Joel sweetly surprised you by waking up early, something he absolutely detested, so he could build you the vegetable garden you asked for.

You lightly padded down the steps still clad in your tank top and shorts to grab a mug from the cupboard. The coffee pot sizzled with heat when you plucked it from the burner, half the liquid already gone. Once you fixed it the way you liked, you walked out onto the back deck and leaned over the railing, your mug cupped in both hands, to fully appreciate the sight before you.

Joel had his back to you as he crouched over a simple rectangular wooden frame on the ground. You could see the sweat collecting on the back of his neck and it made your mouth water. As your eyes traveled lower, you noticed the dark patches in his shirt forming at his collar and between his shoulder blades, making your thighs clench together while he worked, completely oblivious to you watching him, listening to him grunt and sigh when he lifted a new piece of wood.

You swallowed thickly before taking a sip of your coffee, your eyes never leaving his form while he stood to stretch his back. He lifted his hat from his head and wiped his brow with the back of his forearm and you sunk your teeth into your lower lip. Something was so fucking hot about him getting all sweaty and worked up, but on that particular day? When he was making you something, sacrificing his rare down time just for you? It lit a fire inside you that couldn't be tamed.

Before he noticed, you scooted back inside to fill up a glass of ice water. With your hand hovering over the door handle, you got an idea that sent a jolt of arousal right through you. Without giving yourself a chance to overthink it, you pulled down your shorts and underwear, kicking your panties off to land on the couch, and shimmied your shorts back on.

Your pulse was fucking racing with excitement when you stepped outside once again, but this time you made sure to make a little noise so Joel would hear you. When the door clicked shut, he turned around and grinned before setting down his tools and stepping into the shade.

"Thank you, darlin'," he murmured when you handed him the water.

"You're welcome," you replied, your hands clasping behind your back as you practically vibrated in place with nervous energy. His eyes flicked down your body curiously right when he was finishing up his drink.

"Sleep okay?" he asked, sensing something was off while he set the glass down on the deck.

"Mhmm," you said, a nervous grin spreading across your face. "Missed you, though."

He chuckled and wiped some sweat away from his face with the bottom of his shirt. Your mouth went dry and your eyes instantly locked onto his tanned stomach and the dark smattering of curls that led below his waistband. The sleep shorts you were wearing were thin. If they were a lighter color, you could probably see right through them if you really looked. As it turned out, they were also terrible at absorbing moisture because they were sticking uncomfortably to your inner thighs while you waited for him to notice.

"Huh?" you said when you realized he was speaking.

He shook his head and dropped his shirt back down. "I said, I'm makin' you the damn garden you wanted."

You inched forward and took his hand in yours. "Well, do you think it can wait? Because I need to show you something inside that needs your help."

Somehow, he was still not picking up what you were implying.

"Baby, I'm on a roll. I just need another hour, maybe two-"

You tugged the hand you were holding between your legs and his eyes widened when he felt the wetness waiting for him there.

"Sorry. Got tired of being subtle," you told him with a playful smirk. He whipped his head around, checking to see if any of the neighbors were out tending to their lawns or enjoying their morning coffee on their patios while his fingers hooked around the soaked material.

You saw in his face the exact moment he realized you were bare underneath your shorts. It was like his brain was buffering, desperately trying to calculate how long he allowed you to stand there practically begging to be fucked while he rambled on about a goddamn garden. The surprise in his features slowly faded into the hazy, lust filled gaze you were so familiar with, and you smiled triumphantly.

"Get your ass inside right fuckin' now before I do somethin' that'll get us both thrown in jail," he growled, something primal shifting in his face while his body flooded with arousal, his need for you dripping heavier in his veins with each steady beat of his heart.

You squeaked and covered your ass when he swat at you from behind, then you hurried past him, back into the house.

Looking back on it, to think you would have made it upstairs to your bedroom was comical. His hands grabbed your hips halfway up the carpeted steps, pulling you down as you laughed giddily and pretended to try to fight off his attack, clawing fruitlessly at the stairs while he smiled into your lower back where his mouth was alternating kisses and bites across your skin.

"You wanted attention, you got it," he mumbled before yanking your shorts down and sinking his teeth into the flesh of your ass. Not enough to really hurt, but enough to make you yelp in surprise and leave a few linear indents in your skin.

Joel usually took his time with you. He preferred it that way. He liked to watch your face as he tormented you between your legs. He liked to see what new sounds he could pull from your throat when he changed an angle.

But not that day.

No, that day he yanked your shorts all the way off, tossing them over his shoulder and down the steps before grabbing your hips with his hands, all rough and sweaty from working outside.

You braced yourself for the inevitable stretch, the welcome yet slightly painful intrusion that you yearned for, but what happened next shocked you.

Your eyes widened and you gasped when you felt his mouth descend on your pussy from behind, his tongue immediately setting an intense pace, which was a change from the way he usually ate you. But speed and passion weren't the only variation. He never, ever went down on you from behind before.

"I- J-Joel, what are... oh," you moaned, eyes fluttering closed as he lapped eagerly at your core. Instinctively, you spread your hips and sunk down further onto his mouth. Your cheek was rubbing harshly against the carpet and your lips were parted, allowing a small trail of drool to trickle down your chin. If you had any awareness left, you might have cared, but the pleasure he was building between your legs left your brain completely numb.

"Oh, fuck yes, Joel - keep going, just like that," you groaned, reaching behind you blindly to grab a fistful of his hair. "Fuck you and that fucking mouth," you gasped when his tongue flatted against your clit. He chuckled against your core but didn't stop. His hand slid up the back of your thigh and gave your cheek a firm jiggle before smacking his palm down across your ass. You jolted forward, your forehead bumping up against the next step, and cried out for more so he did it again, but on the other side.

"You like that?" he panted, pulling away from you for just a moment to catch his breath. You arched your back, giving him a generous view of the mess he left between your legs and he was afraid for the first time ever that he might come completely untouched. He inhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose when he saw your cunt pulse, calling to him like a goddamn siren at sea. "Fuck, so beautiful," he growled before closing his eyes and picking up right where he left off.

His thumbs spread your lips so his tongue could tease your entrance, scooping up your arousal and rutting his hips against the stairs, eating you like he was about to go off to war.

"I'm... oh, shit, Joel!" you exclaimed, pulling at his hair roughly so he wouldn't dare try to stop when you were so close to your climax. And he could sense it. He was good at that. He knew what you needed sometimes before you even knew. So once again, he brought his palm down sharply across your ass, a little harder that time but not too much. Just enough to leave a few seconds of sting, electrifying your nerve endings and pulling you over the edge.

Two tears rolled down your cheeks when you came. The little bit of pain from his hand and the carpet digging into your cheek and knees mixed with your pleasure in such a way that it left you breathless.

Finally, once he felt your legs begin to tremble and whimpers fell from your lips, he pulled away with a deep gasp. His eyes were pinned to the way your pussy looked; all drenched with a combination of his spit and your release, and he cursed under his breath.

"She looks so fuckin' good, baby, wish you could see what I see," he murmured, mesmerized as he continued to stare without any shame. You hardly had any of your senses. Your breath was ragged and your throat was dry but still, you tilted your chin and whispered, "show me."

A wide smile stretched across his face and his eyes lit up.

"Yeah? You'd let me take a picture of this pretty pussy?" he asked, but he was already digging in his back pocket for his phone. You nodded, eyes still closed.

When both his hands left your waist, you arched your back a bit more and spread your legs, presenting yourself to him. You heard a deep groan rumble from his chest and he whispered, "fuckin' natural, baby," before you heard the shutter on his phone. One, two, three times at least you heard the familiar little click, click, then he leaned over your slumped body and slid his phone in front of your face.

"See? Look at you. Look at what I get to see," he murmured into your ear. Your eyes opened and widened as you stared at your wrecked pussy on the screen.

"Oh, wow," you breathed, not expecting at all to find it sexy, but you did. You fucking did. "Look at what you did to me," you said, craning your neck over your shoulder. His eyes flickered with heat and his mouth crashed down onto yours.

"Just wait til I split you open on my cock," he said, his voice rumbling against your back. "Have you all stuffed full with my cum. Now that's a pretty sight."

You groaned and shakily pushed yourself up.

"I'm begging you, please, Joel... do not fuck me on these stairs. My knees are killing me."

He laughed and helped you stand, legs wobbling just a little.

"Nah. I got an idea and we can't do it here."

You laid underneath the covers in bed, your lower half still bare and your tank top still on while you nervously chewed on your lower lip, watching Joel at the foot of the bed tinker with a camcorder he had buried somewhere in his closet that he swore up and down he never used with anyone else.

Never wanted to before, he had said when you eyed it suspiciously after he explained he swiped it from a set when it was used as a prop in one of his films years ago.

"Battery's dead but I'll just leave it plugged in," he said, then he flipped out the little screen tucked into the side of the device and swiveled it around so it was facing out. He set it on his end table and adjusted it until he was satisfied with the angle, then looked over his shoulder with a grin.

"You sure?" he clarified again. Your eyes flickered from him to the camera, then back again.

"Yeah," you squeaked, your voice very clearly betraying you. His gaze softened and he leaned across the bed to press a chaste kiss against your forehead.

"We don't gotta do this," he assured you. "I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

"No," you replied, shaking your head. "I want to, I'm just nervous."

He scoffed and readjusted himself so he was lying next to you, blocking the idle camera.

"Nothin' to be nervous 'bout. It's just for me 'n you," he murmured before cupping your face and pressing his lips tenderly against yours. When his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, you sighed and looped your arms around his neck, melting into his embrace and deepening the kiss. His hand slid down from your cheek to squeeze your breast, groaning a little when he pinched your nipple through the fabric of your tank top.

His lips dragged down to your jaw, his teeth grazing your throat until he found a spot he liked and latched on while pushing the sheets from your body. The anticipation bubbled up while his hand continued to travel lower, your legs instinctively falling open for him. You finally relaxed when he successfully distracted you with his fingers through your folds and gasped as he slid two inside you with ease.

"Oh, yeah, you're ready for me," he moaned into your neck, his erection bordering on painful. He exhaled shakily when one of your hands wrapped around his length and began to gently stroke him, your palm so soft and warm that he almost forgot about the camera.

"C'mon, baby, sit up f'me," he said, pulling his hand from between your legs and leaning back so he could kick his jeans off. You scrambled to sit, your breaths coming in shallow pants as you watched him tug his shirt over his head. When he reached for the hem of your tank top, he paused and turned to tap the record button on the camcorder. Instantly, your limbs went rigid and your hands fell to your lap, covering yourself, but when he turned back to you he pinched your chin in his fingers, pulling your nervous gaze from the camera lens.

"Eyes on me," he told you, his voice low and deep, sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded and raised your arms so he could peel off your tank top. He tossed it onto the floor and sat back on his heels to admire the way your tits sat exposed to him, his eyes darkening when your nipples hardened with arousal. He lunged forward and took one in his mouth, his hot, wet tongue lavishing your pebbled skin before switching to the other one. You tipped your head back and moaned, mouth open as you stared up blankly at the ceiling, your fingers rising to get tangled in his hair.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, planting little kisses all over your chest and circling his arms around your ribs, tugging you closer. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trembling when his cock pressed between your bodies, his erection sliding through your wet heat and suddenly you couldn't breathe.

"I-I need you," you whimpered, weakly lifting your hips into his lap.

"I know, baby, I know," he hummed. One hand dropped to cup your ass so he could reposition his legs underneath you, then flexed his hips so the tip of his cock lined up with your opening. "Want me to fuck you just like this? Sittin' in my lap?"

You nodded, your eyelids heavy with desire as you tightened your grip around his neck. The second he pressed into you, you gasped. He watched with adoration as your eyebrows pinched together in concentration, breathing deep and slow as you relaxed and slowly took him.

"Joel," you whispered, jaw slack. "Joel, I love you."

He moaned and pulled your hips flush with his, forcing you to take the last few inches all at once. "I love you, too, baby. Christ, you're incredible. Fuckin' look at you."

Look at you. His words made you remember the camera. Your eyes flickered over to the little rectangular screen, the outline of your bodies perfectly centered, and you swallowed tightly.

"Pretend like it's the mirror," he whispered in your ear as he began to gently rock in and out, "just like the mirror at the hotel, okay?"

You nodded and sighed, your shoulders loosening and your muscles relaxing as you began to roll your hips in rhythm with his. He tightened his grip around your middle, his body engulfing you in warmth. You rested your head on his shoulder as he continued to fuck you nice and slow, stretching you out around him, reaching depths that had you reeling.

This was it. There was nothing else outside those four walls. You had everything you ever wanted right there. The way he kissed you, touched you, made love to you always left you feeling so safe. Deep down, you always knew he was the missing piece in your life, the mysterious thing you kept searching for in others and were always left disappointed. Because nobody else ever loved you and cared for you the way he did.

"I'm so lucky to have you," you told him, your tongue dragging up his neck, collecting the dried sweat with a moan. You began to bounce in his lap a little faster and he immediately matched your pace with thrusts of his own.

"I'm the one who's lucky," he said through clenched teeth. He exhaled heavily through his nose and tucked his chin to his chest so he could watch himself disappear inside your cunt. "So soft. Softest pussy. So fuckin' warm and wet, you feel so good. Goddamnit, every fuckin' time..."

You smiled to yourself as you listened to him ramble. "Maybe we're both lucky."

He chuckled and you gasped when his cock brushed up against that one spot that made you see stars. You feverishly grabbed his face with both hands and bit desperately at his lower lip, pulling it between your teeth and making him groan.

Your body was loose and pliant now, so with more confidence you quickened the roll of your hips, relishing in the way his cock felt dragging in and out of you, how your clit rubbed against the coarse hair at his base, in the noises you managed to pull from his throat each time your skin slapped together.

"Yeah, that's it, baby. Show me what you like. Oh, good girl," he groaned, hands sliding up your back to hold you as you began to lose yourself. He could see it in the look in your eyes and the way your fingers dug into his shoulders.

It was the most beautiful fucking thing.

Your body moved perfectly in tandem with his, your sharp gasps and his deep groans filling the room, the camera long forgotten by now.

"Oh, god, I'm close," you whimpered as you felt the heat that had been building begin to quickly creep up and spread through your stomach. "Oh, fuck. Oh, god... Joel, don't stop, please..." you begged, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your vision began to blur.

"I ain't stoppin'. C'mon, give it to me, lemme feel you," he growled. He snapped steadily into you now, each thrust punctuated by a grunt while his eyes locked on yours, watching with pride as you crumbled and fell apart, your walls squeezing him so beautifully as you came that it nearly pulled him right over the edge with you.

It happened fast. One second you were in his lap, your body tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm and the next he had pulled out of you and flipped you onto your hands and knees. Only when you felt his thick cock slide back inside did you fully realize you had switched positions. And shit, taking him from that particular angle always was so much more intense, but combined with the fact that your new view included the camera in the corner of your eye made everything so much more powerful.

You could fucking see him now and you couldn't look away, completely entranced with the way his face looked as he slammed into you. His mouth hung open as he looked down at you with what could only be described as complete and utter desire. You could feel his hand running up the length of your spine but you could also see the look of worship in his eye, the way his face twisted in pleasure when he watched your ass ripple from the force of his hips, and you felt a heavy wave suddenly crash over you once again.

"Oh, fuck!" Joel groaned loudly as he watched another orgasm shoot through you. His hands grabbed at your waist to try to keep you still, but you were trembling everywhere and you couldn't hold yourself up any longer.

You fell onto your elbows, the side of your face pressing into the bed while he held up your hips, fucking into you harder now that he could tell you were spent. "I'm gonna come, baby, I'm -" he cut himself off with a desperate whine, the buildup from the past hour or so becoming too much and causing his release to intensify.

Your bodies finally stilled and he pumped you full of his spend, his groans getting caught in his throat as he pulsed inside you. He watched in a daze when his cum started to leak out even though he was still inside, and without thinking, he snatched the camera from the bedside table so he could get a close up.

"Fuckin' hell, baby," he whispered hoarsely, chest heaving and hands shaking as he held the camera at his chest, pointing it down to where you were connected. "So glad you're back on the pill. Fuckin' beautiful, all full of me like this. Shit," he muttered, swiping a finger to collect some of his release to rub it over your clit. With a whine, your body jolted forward and he chuckled before dropping his hand, knowing you were too overstimulated.

"Joel," you whispered tiredly. Your eyelids were heavy and your thighs were shaking from the effort of holding yourself up.

"I know, baby, just one more thing and then I'll clean you up," he promised. He took a deep breath and steadied the camera before slipping out of you.

He made a pained noise in the back of his throat when he watched through the lens the way your body leaked of him, your pussy all swollen and stretched out, completely fucked, messy and used.

"Jesus," he croaked, wishing he could keep filming but your body sagged forward and he stopped the recording before tossing the camera onto the other side of the bed so he could check on you.

"You alright?"

You nodded, eyes closed, lips bitten raw, hair a complete mess but you still wore a satisfied smile.

"Tired. I think I'm gonna just..." you yawned and stretched out your shaky limbs. "Just gonna close my eyes for a sec."

He grinned and stood up to go to the bathroom, plucking a couple clean washcloths from the linen closet and wetting them both under the faucet so he could clean himself up with one and take the other back to you.

"Did you eat?" he asked softly as he gently and carefully dragged the washcloth through your thighs. You shook your head, eyes still closed. "I'm gonna go make you somethin'. Gotta eat, honey," he whispered before kissing the top of your head and covering you with the sheet. But by the time he came back upstairs with a bagel and cream cheese, you were fast asleep.

So you're getting married, then?

Well, he hasn't really asked me, not in so many words.

Four, you mean?

Huh?

Well, that's how many it takes: will you marry me?

Your eyes fluttered open when you heard two familiar voices reciting an even more familiar dialogue from the television, the volume turned down so low, you could hear the neighbor's dog barking from four houses down.

Joel shifted in bed next to you as quietly as he could, unaware you had awoken. You peered up at him, hair all messy, chest still bare, and you smiled when you caught him stifling a laugh at Audrey Hepburn.

"Hey," you said, voice coming out rougher than you expected, so you cleared your throat. He immediately muted the television and turned toward you, grinning as his eyes raked up and down your sleep-addled face.

"Hey, yourself," he said softly. He pushed the hair off your face, letting his thumb linger on your cheek while he continued to examine you closely. "Feelin' okay?"

You nodded and yawned, stretching your sore legs out underneath the blankets. "You fucked me into a coma."

He laughed heartily and rubbed his palm over his chest, embarrassment flushing his bronzed skin.

"But I guess that's what I get for shacking up with a pornstar," you added with a giggle. He tossed his head back and laughed even louder at that and you couldn't resist, his happiness too infectious. You inched forward and nuzzled into his side, his arm dropping to wrap around your shoulders.

When the laughter died down, he gazed lovingly at you and, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, reminded you, "ex-pornstar, but I suppose old habits die hard, huh?"

"Mm, maybe, but that's okay," you said, tracing light, invisible patterns on his stomach. "It's nothing I can't handle."

He cocked an eyebrow at you and smirked. "Careful, or I might have'ta hold you to that."

"Bring it on, superstar," you whispered before leaning up and pressing a gentle, soft kiss against his mouth. You licked your lips and hummed before looking up at him through your lashes. "Cream cheese?"

"I made you a bagel, but you fell asleep," he admitted, "but figured we could relax the rest of the day. Order in, watch movies... just like we said we would."

"I don't remember saying we would do all that naked," you teased.

"Thought that was implied, baby," he said with a frown. "You shacked up with a pornstar, what'd you expect?"

What did you expect? Did you ever imagine your life would turn out the way it did? Sitting in bed with a sheet wrapped around you, eating Chinese food and watching a Turner Classic Movies marathon with the man of your dreams? You always wished for it; before you met, after you became friends, while you were carrying on an illicit affair, and even when you weren't on speaking terms, you always, always wished for it. But did you ever really think it would come true?

You couldn't really remember, and at that point, it didn't matter. Because you didn't care how you got there, just as long as you were together, you were happy.

You did exactly what he said you would do. You stayed in bed until the sun began to set, wasting the whole day away curled into his side watching old movies and pointing out your favorite parts, exactly the way you used to.

It was around nine when Joel suggested going out for ice cream. Let's get out, stretch our legs and walk along the river, he had said after vowing to finish your vegetable garden the next day.

And on your way out, your hands fused together even while he struggled to lock the door one handed, you looked at the chairs on his porch and smiled to yourself.

"What's that for?" he asked, tapping your cheek lovingly while you walked side by side to his truck.

"Nothing, it's stupid," you told him with a shrug.

"Ain't nothin' you got to say is stupid to me."

You sighed when he let your hand go so you could round the truck and hop into the passenger seat. After you clicked your seatbelt into place, he put the keys in the ignition but waited to turn it on. Instead, he looked at you expectantly with his eyebrows raised.

"Fine," you mumbled, "I'm gonna sound fucking crazy, but... fine."

"Oh, well now this I gotta hear," he said.

You gave him a look before turning in your seat to face him. "The chairs on your porch." He nodded.

"So far, not crazy."

You rolled your eyes. "Remember when I came by to drop off the shirts for the Jack and Jill party?"

He nodded again and you could feel the self-consciousness begin to creep up.

"We weren't on great terms back then. I had just found out you bought a house. I felt like I hardly even knew you anymore. And I was so damn nervous, I didn't want to fuck things up even more than I already had, but when I saw you had two..." You paused when you saw the flicker of understanding cross his face. "I thought you maybe found someone else. I know. It's crazy, like I said."

Joel smiled and reached his hand across the seat to lace together with yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"Got the second one for you."

Your eyes snapped up to his in surprise.

"What?" you breathed.

He gave you a shrug and tilted his head bashfully. "I was just waitin' for you."

Tears welled in your eyes as you fumbled with the seatbelt, unbuckling yourself so you could stretch your body over to his seat and pull him into a deep kiss.

"I thought I lost you," you whispered against his mouth, and he chuckled.

"You didn't. I was all yours that very first night, sweetheart."

You didn't even try to deny it. He was right. It seemed so obvious now. Why didn't you see it back then? But before you began to mentally chastise yourself for being so bullheaded, you stopped. You couldn't change the past, something you've been learning to accept in therapy for months now, but what you could do was focus on your future. And while you sat next to Joel as he drove towards your favorite ice cream place in town, windows down and stars twinkling in the sky, you smiled because your future together looked pretty damn bright.

[achilles-rage]

Deserving

summary: while your ex-boyfriend used to put you down for everything you did, deacon treats you exactly the way you deserve. when he asks you to meet his team, you can’t help your ex’s words coming back to you, and you’re afraid that they won’t think you’re good enough for him. he comforts you, and you finally agree to meet the team.

word count: 2.5k

request: anon- could i request a deacon x reader, where she is nervous to meet his team even though they have been dating for a little while. she’s afraid they might see her as not good enough for him. deacon can’t figure out why she doesn’t want to meet them at first.

A/N: you guys i can never take deacon requests seriously because all i see when i look at him is arthur’s brother from arthur christmas🫠 anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: none, no use of y/n, plus size!reader, fem!reader, insecure!reader, race inclusive!reader

“Why the hell are you wearing that?” your boyfriend asks harshly once you walk out of the bedroom, eyeing you angrily. 

It’s your anniversary, and you thought you’d surprise him with a brand new dress. You spent ages trying to find the perfect colour for your skin tone, and even bought a new necklace to match. You thought he might like it, but you were wrong. Again.

“I bought it for you. Thought you’d like it.” you tell him softly as you look down at the dress, trying to smooth it down over your chest and soft tummy. You’ve heard of guys that worship the ground their girlfriends walk on; loving to see, and touch, and feel their soft curves whenever they could. Your boyfriend was, evidently, not one of them. 

When you first started dating, he gave you compliments here and there, but never about anything specific. “You look good,” or “you look nice” is all you really remember him saying, but over time you grew to love him, which is why you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.

The night ends with him dragging you out of the restaurant before your meals have even arrived. He behaves once you’re in the restaurant, pulling out your chair for you and holding your hand, but you know that it’s just for show; he’s still upset with you for your dress. It was too short, too tight, he had said. He didn’t want everyone to see him with you like that, and although you pretended to not know why, you’re sure it had to do with others seeing the dips and curves of your tummy, and your plush hips and thighs. 

He had raised his voice to almost a yell when you offered to change before you left, mumbling that you were already late enough as he made his way to the door and slammed it before you could make your way across the room.

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” he seethes as he drags you through the parking lot, his hand grabbing your wrist harshly once you’re away from the wandering eyes of the restaurant.

“I don’t understand what I did.” you tell him softly, a hint of fear in your eyes as his footsteps echo on the concrete in front of you.

“No? You don’t remember when I told you what we were getting, and then when you corrected me in front of the waiter because you ‘didn’t want that?’ Made me look like a fucking idiot.” He opens your door for you and waits for you to get into the car, finally letting up on the tight grip on your wrist.

You get in silently, your fingers rubbing your wrist softly once you’re buckled in. He keeps his eyes on the road as he drives, jaw clenched and arms tense. You steal glances at him out of the corner of your eye, trying to will the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks away.

“I’m sorry.” you get out after a few minutes, your words cutting the tension inside of the car. Rather than your soft apology calming him down, his eyes dart over to yours as he puffs out his chest.

“You’re sorry? I don’t wanna fucking hear it. I can’t take you anywhere, can I? Fucking pathetic.” A tear finally makes its way down your cheek, and you try to wipe it away quickly, knowing he’ll yell again if he notices. Neither of you say a word the whole way home. You’re afraid anything you say will set him off again.

It's been almost two years since then, and you’ve been dating a man that’s completely different from your ex for almost a year. Deacon is everything you thought a man should be when you were a lovesick teenager. He does worship the ground you walk on, he brings you out to nice dinners, he buys you “just because” flowers. He’s perfect in every sense of the word, and the more he does for you, the more you forget about how your ex treated you.

Despite this, you can’t help your ex’s words nagging at you deep down. They echo through your head, telling you that you aren’t good enough. Frankly, it’s exhausting, but Deacon’s words are often able to cut through these words and drown them out. 

“You have the day off today?” he asks you, his voice just above a whisper. You two decided to spend a few minutes in bed together before starting the day, laying comfortably in each other’s arms.

Your cheek is resting on his chest, and you’re tracing soft patterns on his abdomen with your fingers as his thumb traces circles on your shoulder.

You hum softly as you nod, not trusting your voice this early in the morning. You raise your head from his chest and rest your chin on it, looking up at his face.

“Perfect. Maybe you could drive me to work? Meet the team?” he asks in a hopeful voice. He’s been trying to get you to meet the squad for almost as long as you’ve been together officially, but each time, you’re able to come up with a last minute excuse. Your best friend has food poisoning and they need your help, your neighbour called and needs help looking for their lost cat, you feel a migraine coming on and you need to rest. Honestly, if Deacon hadn’t already shown the team a few of his favourite photos of you two together, they would all think that you’re not real.

“Oh, um, I actually can’t.” you tell him in a soft voice, getting up and straddling his waist, aiming to distract him. He smiles as you straddle his lap, hands immediately going to your wide hips while his eyes trail down your figure in your oversized t-shirt. 

“Honey, everyone wants to meet you. I’ve been bragging about you since I first met you.” You smile softly at his praise, but you feel yourself biting the inside of your cheek as you think about it. 

As much as you want to meet his team, you’re much too nervous. You’ve grown more confident in yourself with Deacon’s help, but you can’t help feeling insecure as you think about being introduced to the most important people in Deacon’s life. What if they don’t think you’re good enough for him?

“I have to drive my friend to the airport.” you lie quickly, eyes darting away from his eyes for a moment as you trail your hands up and down his chest. He looks up at you, brows furrowed.

“I know you’re lying. You would’ve told me about that earlier than right now. Come on, what’s going on?” His eyes search your face, hoping to find some sort of clue, but your tense posture and slight frown give him nothing.

“I don’t want to meet them.” you whisper, afraid that if you speak any louder, your words will seem more harsh than you mean them to be. He frowns, reaching a hand up to your chin and forcing you to look back down at him. You see the confusion in his face, and you sigh. You’ve already said this much, you think, you might as well explain yourself. 

“What if they don’t like me? What if they think I’m not good enough?” you ask, your voice barely audible as your ex’s words echo through your head. To him, you were never good enough, and a small part of you thinks that you’re not good enough for Deacon either. 

“Why wouldn’t they like you?” he asks, his brows still laced with confusion, and slight anger. He knows a little about your ex, and he assumes this is where this is coming from, but he still doesn’t understand how this has anything to do with you not wanting to meet his friends. 

“My ex hated being seen with me. I was always doing things to embarrass him. What if I do that with you? What if-” You’re cut off by his voice, which is raised slightly to stop your rambling.

“Wait a minute. ‘What if you’re not good enough?’ Good enough for what?” You sigh, looking away for a moment as you lick your lips.

“For you.” you tell him with a huff. It feels a little silly once you’re saying it. You know he loves you, but you can’t help the insecurities eating away at your confidence as you take in his handsome features. 

“Honey, where is this coming from? I love you. Everything about you.” he tells you sternly, reaching up and cupping your cheeks with his hands, bringing your face down closer to his as his eyes scan your face.

“My ex, he always told me I wasn’t enough for him, or too much, I guess.” you whisper, looking down at the way your thick thighs pressed against his lean torso and the way your tummy jutted out.

“He told you that?” he asks, anger growing inside of him as his hands move back to your hips, squeezing them. 

“Well, not exactly, I guess. He would get mad at me for a lot of things. He didn’t like me wearing certain things, or doing certain things. He got mad a lot.” you explain in a soft voice, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you, trying not to meet his gaze as you explain. 

“Did he ever hit you?” he asks through gritted teeth. He’s a little afraid of the answer, afraid of what he’d do if you say yes. He knows there would be very little holding him back from hunting him down and doing far worse than he’d ever done to you. He lets out a sigh of relief as you shake your head, closing his eyes for a moment to think.

“What exactly did he do?” he asks in a somewhat calmer voice. He’s still on edge, pissed off that your ex had done something to make you think like this, but he’s still glad he never physically hurt you.

“He didn’t like when I wore things that showed off my body. Sometimes when I did things, like talk to people in public, he would get mad. On our anniversary, he got mad at me for telling the waiter I didn’t want what he ordered for me, and he dragged me out of the restaurant. What if your friends see what he saw? What if they don’t think I deserve you?” you finish with a frown, finally looking back down into his eyes when you’re done speaking. You’re still straddling his waist, which feels like an odd position to be having this conversation ij, but his warm skin touching yours is also keeping you grounded.

“Sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about. They would never think that. I would never think that. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. You’re sweet, and you’re stubborn, and you’re smart, and you love so much. You love people who don’t deserve it because you have such a big heart. If anyone doesn’t deserve someone, I don’t deserve you.” You tear up at his words, the voice in the back of your head getting smaller as you take in his words. He sees the way your eyes soften, tears forming in your eyes, and he massages up and down your thighs in an attempt to soothe you. 

“Honey, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Please don’t let that prick control you anymore. I would never do anything he did, you know that, right?” he asks, hoping his tone and his expression make you believe his words. 

You nod slowly, sniffling as a tear finally falls from your eye. You know he wouldn’t, but sometimes, you think too hard about what your ex used to say, and you feel yourself slipping back into your old state of mind. The one that made you believe that no one would ever love you for you. 

“You don’t have to meet them today if you don’t want to. But the next day you’re off work, I want you to come see me at work, and I’ll introduce you to everyone. Deal?” he asks with a hopeful look in his eyes. You hold your breath as you bite your lip, thinking it over. You know you can’t put this off forever, and his words give you a sudden wave of confidence. You know if you don’t say yes now, you never will.

“No, I’ll go today. I’ll meet them.” you tell him finally, a small smile finally breaking onto your face as you see his grin. He pulls your face down to let his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. He tries to convey all of his affection for you into the kiss, hands moving from your cheeks to your hips, then making their way up to your tummy under your shirt. His fingers brush over your soft tummy, ghosting over the stretch marks and rolls, and he groans softly at the feeling. He loves all of you, especially your cute little tummy.

“Let's go, then. Wanna get in there early so you can meet everyone before we start.” he mutters once he pulls away. You laugh softly and get off his lap, watching as he stands up from the bed. He turns back to you and pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist and swaying you side to side.

“What should I wear?” you speak after a moment, mind racing as you try to come up with something appropriate to wear.

“Doesn’t matter to me, sweetheart. Wear whatever you’re comfortable with.” he tells you softly, leaning in to give you a feather-light kiss on the nose. You scrunch your nose with a soft laugh, then pull away from him and go to your shared closet. 

He makes his way to the bathroom as you pick out an outfit. You finally land on one that doesn’t hide your curves, but doesn’t exactly cling to them either. Deacon whistles once he sees you all ready, eyes trailing down your figure. He takes in the hint of cleavage peeking out of your top, and the way it shows the curve of your hips and waist just enough to drive him wild. 

Once you’re at his work, you walk in with your fingers intertwined. Your hands are shaking slightly with nerves, but he’s quick to bring your hand up to his lips, causing your nerves to settle just long enough for him to drag you up to the group.

They all greet you with wide smiles, immediately seeing what Deacon sees in you. You greet them with a soft smile, hugging them all as they insist on it. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks as Hondo congratulates Deacon for pulling you, and a wide grin breaks onto your face as soon as Luca invites you out for drinks with all of them the next time they finish a case.

You agree happily, eyes glancing over at Deacon, whose grin is wider than yours. He’s so glad to finally bring his two worlds together, and he’s even more happy that your nerves are finally settled, almost as if you finally understand exactly what he sees in you.

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[crguang]

wasted with longing, part 4

In the face of such deep hurt, you have no choice but to come to terms with your feelings.

friends with benefits, f!reader, 6k words

A/N: don't really like this chapter cause it feels like a nothingburger but there it is... i swear i didn't mean to end it like that but the next block would have been too long to be in the same chapter so i had to chop it in two, forgive me 😞

also, it’s definitely still the weekend on the west coast so i am not late!!! we’ve officially written like 20k words for this series when it was supposed to be a couple crack fics, what even is going on

part three

Every so often, tremors travel through your legs to reach your twitching fingertips like a hundred tiny earthquakes along your limbs while you sit there, passive and morose. You stare at your open palms and observe the natural disaster occurring beneath your skin. Past the white walls of your apartment, the sun continues its ascent among the clouds but its warmth is fought off by the thick curtains of your living room and the heaviness settling inside of you. The blow of previous revelations has made your organs twice as heavy and has brought an ache to your trembling hands, birthing a sense of lethargy only the lost are familiar with. Not for the first time, you don’t know where you’re heading. For the first time, none of it matters; there is just the weight of your body rooted to the couch and the lines of your palms staring back at you, forming crooked letters that disappear with a blink. Your thoughts are a mess devoid of rationality focused on the sting of betrayal that you can feel at the corner of your eyes. She doesn’t deserve them, your tears. Then again, there is a lot that she didn’t deserve that you still gave willingly: your time, your attention, the flutter deep in your abdomen at the sound of her genuine laughter or the naive hope that you mattered more to her than you believed. Your mind is a whirlwind of possibilities that will never come to be and feed the dejection in your bones until your vision blurs at the edges from tears you refuse to let fall. 

You recall the nonchalance with which she addressed her actions, the excuse of destiny as if you were all merely pawns in the hollow of its cold and detached hands. Some things are inevitable and all possibilities are already written. You wondered once what kind of life she must live to be so carefree, you understand now that it stems from a lack of responsibility and a distance between herself and accountability. Her nihilism reduces her to a footnote in a published novel, a droplet in the raging ocean; it takes away enough of her to make her believe that whatever she does is not a choice she fully makes herself. It feels like an excuse to justify not only her existence but everything she undertakes, blaming consequences on fate will always be easier as it relieves her from the pressure of guilt. In a way, it’s not so much carefreeness as passivity. You swallow to soothe the tightness of your throat. Some part of you pities how she lives and you wish you could choke it out with a pillow. Even now, you can’t snuff out feelings that have taken months to develop and solidify within you, and they feel like stones obstructing your blood vessels. It hurts this much because you unknowingly carved a seat for her inside the walls of your heart with her pocket knife, the same one she used to cut you. You can no longer differentiate then and now, whether you started falling for her the last time she left your bed or the first time she kissed you. However, you can’t deny that you’ve got her under your skin and the realization could not have happened at a less opportune moment.

This sucks. You don’t count the minutes you spend staring at your hands like they hold answers to questions you won’t get to ask in the future. At some point you find yourself laying on the couch again, looking ahead while your phone lies on the coffee table, undisturbed for the time being. Hours pass and your eyelids eventually grow heavy, each blink slower to come than the last. Your mind, perhaps to torture you, replays some moments you didn’t remember before this instant; falling asleep as she lights up a cigarette on the balcony outside your bedroom, moonlight stroking her hair and smoke blurring her face; nimble hands undressing you layer by layer with a patience that borders on reverence. The first time you met, your impression of her was that she took care of appearance and found it very important how she presented herself to the world. It was because of her clothes, partly, but mostly the confidence she radiated. She didn’t say too much or too little, and looked at you with a smile you selfishly wished was just for you. Her attention felt like a treasure not many were deserving of and her taste in fashion matched yours, she helped you pick out some clothes then you exchanged phone numbers in front of the store. You went your separate ways after that, but receiving a text from her an hour later turned you into a schoolgirl with a crush. 

You thought you were making progress yesterday, that her seeking you out meant something more than a refusal to see a medical professional. The look in her eyes when she stared up at you in the bathroom… you wish you understood it, but something screams that it wouldn’t have changed a thing. You reminisce and ruminate until your eyes close and unconsciousness generously gives you a reprieve from the assault of your mind.

It’s almost 11 in the morning when you wake. Your neck is stiff from the armrest and your legs beg to be stretched after staying bent for hours. You rub the drowsiness out of your eyes with one hand and sit up slowly, brows furrowed and lips in a frown. It takes you a moment to do anything else, your phone buzzes with a notification three times in a row but you only look at your lock screen blankly. You don’t feel like doing anything, and after remembering the events of earlier today,  you dread checking up on work. Still, your concern for the colleagues you get along with eventually wins out. You pick up the device and sift through the messages that were left unanswered yesterday, replying to your friends to assure them of your safety. Your thumbs travel across the screen mechanically, like you’re writing a professional email you have no interest in, but you are genuinely relieved to find out that they’re fine. You hesitate over Himeko’s contact name. She surely hasn’t heard of what transpired yesterday unless there was an IPC broadcast about it. You hope she hasn’t. You want the truth to come out of your lips, not some news network. Worry makes you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at her last text from the evening before. Himeko is one of your best friends, she’s understanding, compassionate and an expert at comforting others. You’re not worried that she’ll put the blame on you, just that your feelings will come to the surface once you start relaying everything that’s happened in detail. 

You steel yourself, swallow once, and press the call button under her contact name. You bring your knees to your chest. The line rings a couple of times in your ears before the call connects and Himeko’s joyful voice sounds through the phone. 

“Hey.” she greets you with a smile you can hear, “are you okay? You hung up on me yesterday.”

Your suspicions are confirmed, Himeko has no idea what went on the previous night.

“Sorry,” your own voice is strained from sleep and you cringe before clearing your throat. “Something… came up.”

“Is everything alright?”

Your stomach churns uncomfortably. You look at the floor and inhale quietly to calm the unease slithering up your trachea. “There was… an incident at work,” you say hesitantly. “A serious one.”

Himeko picks up on your tone and hers softens with her next question. “Are you alright? What happened?”

The words spill from your mouth all at once and Himeko doesn’t interrupt you as you give her a retelling of what you read in that article this morning, Kafka’s identity as both a Stellaron Hunter and the woman you’ve been “seeing”, how she showed up at your door injured yesterday and the moment you found out the truth just hours earlier. The line is silent save for your sometimes faltering sentences. Your eyes fall shut in the middle of your story and your fingers clench the phone in your hand, the knot in your throat tightening near the end of it. Saying it out loud, you realize how stupid you’ve been even if the clues weren’t obvious; you should’ve been more suspicious of her absences and deflections, shouldn't have been blinded by her attention and the way she made you feel, should’ve… You feel like an idiot in the face of Himeko’s silence. She digests the information you dumped on her before it’s even noon, and after a minute of quiet she finally speaks.

“Where are you now?”

“Uh, home,” you stammer, blindsided by the question. You half-expected her to lose her mind at the situation you find yourself in considering she was the one who tried to discourage you to enter a friends-with-benefits relationship, and now people have died by the hands of the woman you have feelings for. You pointedly omit the romantic feelings part for now. 

“You should stay at a friend’s house, to be safe. The Stellaron Hunters are very dangerous and you could easily get wrapped up in their dispute with the law and the IPC. Take precautions and be safe, please.”

“Is that all you have to say…?”

“What do you want me to say, ‘I told you so’? You were manipulated, that’s what Kafka does. She bears all the blame here. And I’m sorry you were caught up in her schemes.”

You pause, staring at the coffee table in front of you. Her reassurances bring you no comfort. Your reply sounds small in your ears, “...A lot of people died.”

“I know…” You can almost picture the soft look in Himeko’s eyes. “But it wasn’t your fault. Whatever they had planned, they planned it long before you were brought into the picture. You couldn’t have stopped anything from happening.”

You nod slowly even though she can’t see you. You do your best to internalize that, but guilt still swirls within you and makes you nauseous. You stand from the couch to make your way to the bedroom, footsteps quiet along the wooden floors. You let the morning light envelop you once you reach the glass doors of your balcony and slide them open so the fresh air can enter your lungs and chase away the unpleasant feeling. 

“No wonder you didn’t know anything about her,” Himeko continues, an edge to her voice, “it’s easier to play mind games when you’re kept in the dark. She’s truly despicable.”

You think of what Kafka said this morning about the source of her injury, how she got it looking for you amidst the chaos. You lean on the railing, observe the circulation of cars and pedestrians down below, but say nothing. 

“I hope she never contacts you again. Did you block her number? Is it even her real one?”

“I haven’t thought about it.”

“You should block it anyway.”

She’s right. You put Himeko on speaker and let out a breath as you open your contacts, scrolling through the list and finding Kafka’s contact among it. For a few seconds you feel weak for your hesitation, thumb hovering over the “block caller” button, then you shake your head and press the red letters. You won’t make yourself available for her anymore. 

“I did it,” you tell the woman on the other line and redirect your gaze to the buildings on the horizon. 

“Good. What are you going to do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will you… eventually work there again?”

“Ha. Not a chance.”

You don’t know what you’ll do, you haven’t planned this far ahead and were still on the fence about quitting your job before everything went down but there’s no way you’re going back to doing office work after today. In a way, the incident gave you the push you needed to do it. The price to pay for it was far too high.

You talk to Himeko for another half hour before she has to bid you goodbye to take care of the Express. She reminds you to pack a bag and go stay with a trusted friend, and she makes sure to be certain that you’ll take care of yourself before hanging up the phone. She’ll call again when she can, but in the meantime, you’re on your own. You don’t tell her that you don’t think Kafka means to put you in harm’s way and that you don’t feel comfortable leaving your apartment now. Knowing that you could have been one of yesterday’s victims if you had simply gone about your daily routine worsens your anxiety, and even if Kafka’s been inside your apartment countless of times before, you still feel safer within familiar walls. 

You spend the day in low spirits, half of it sitting on your balcony with your knees to your chest and the other half laying face down in bed. You tell yourself that your free time will be dedicated to finding out what you want to do with your life. Then another day passes you by and when the third one comes around you still haven’t gotten out of the gray bubble you’ve unconsciously created for yourself. Your thoughts are repetitive and oppressive, so you sleep for hours to escape them. You avoid going out by ordering food or groceries. Your phone is constantly on ‘do not disturb’ because you can’t handle the grating alerts about funerals and financial compensation, you only pick it up to talk to Himeko once a day. She encourages you to see your friends, to not let yourself be swept away by the waves of negative emotions, and you don’t have the heart to tell her that you’re just not in the mood anymore. You make promises you don’t intend to keep in order to alleviate her concern and the guilt nesting in the pit of your stomach grows bigger with each one. You’re not helping yourself, you know, but it feels like all you can do is sit in your feelings as they ripple around you and you stare at the disturbances for hours, crestfallen. 

In the evening, you await the takeout you ordered 30 minutes ago. You’re laying on the couch despite the TV not being on and feel drowsiness creeping up on you from doing absolutely nothing all day. Who knew inactivity could be so exhausting… You reach for your phone on the coffee table and tap the screen to see if your driver is nearby. He’s parked in front of your apartment building, so he should reach your door soon. You close the phone and wait some more until you hear firm footsteps on the other side of your door. You only stand up after a couple of minutes have passed to make sure he’s truly gone and won’t see you bringing your food inside. Opening the door reveals an unexpected find; the takeout bag lies next to a rectangular package that wasn’t there in the morning. You pick up the bag but stare at the box with a crease between your brows. Outside of food, you haven’t ordered anything else from the internet. You wonder if it’s a misplaced item and bend down to check the postal information. There’s no return address, but yours and your full name are written black on white. You decide that you must look like a weirdo, inspecting a package in the hallway with takeout in one hand, and you pick up the box before retreating inside. 

Putting down the brown bag on the kitchen counter, you think perhaps the package is from a colleague or a friend, maybe even from Himeko since her return address is hard to find. You look for scissors to cut the tape holding the box shut and lift the lid. A pair of black velvet gloves lie on a similarly coloured coat, the inside of which is a dark shade of blue. The material is expensive judging by the gentle  sheen on the fabric in the light, and you blink in confusion. It’s beautiful and a piece you would definitely feel compelled to buy if you saw it in a store, which means it must actually be meant for you. You pick up one glove to find that it fits perfectly with the size of your hand. It’s soft to the touch, you bring it to your cheek to feel the material against your skin. You spot a small card sticking out from one of the coat’s front pockets bearing only three words written in curvy letters: ‘Thought of you, K. <3’

The glove falls from your hand like it burns your palm and lands on the floor without a sound. Suddenly, the clothes aren’t a thoughtful gift but a mocking gesture meant to get a rise out of you. You tear the card into pieces. If anything, one could admire her limitless audacity, not you, but someone out there. She’s playing with you, taunting you to see how far she’s allowed to go before you lose your mind completely. That, or she deludes herself into thinking that she can buy your forgiveness with meaningless peace offerings. Either way, her obvious lack of care for your feelings hurts more than it should, and you’re once again reminded of your own weakness. You know that she doesn’t care, there’s no need to twist the knife in your already infected wound. Does she only see you as a toy for her entertainment? Is she incapable of even a bout of empathy or do you simply mean that little to her? The thought rotates in your head endlessly until you put everything back in the box and throw it in the trash. 

Two days later, you find another package on your doorstep; two expensive pairs of slacks and three tops that are all exactly your size and your style. The note has only a handwritten K and a slim heart on it. You donate the clothes to a thrift store in the afternoon. It's the first time you’ve left your house since you learned the truth about Kafka’s identity.

Next Thursday, you accept a friend’s invitation to go out for drinks. Kafka’s stunts made you internalize what you've been telling yourself for weeks; you won’t pull the brakes on your life for a broken heart, certainly not for her. Being hung up on somebody who isn’t thinking of you at all is embarrassing enough, to allow her such a place in your mind after what she’s done is just pathetic. Despite your heart still not being it in, you dress up in clothes that always make you feel pretty and let your friends drag you to a bar where they dance for three hours and flirt with strangers for two more. The loud music makes it impossible to hear any words that aren’t shouted or whispered in your ear, its bass reverberates uncomfortably through your chest like a second heart. The night goes by with a drink in your hand that is replaced by another the instant its last drop lands on your tongue. Inebriated and surrounded by sweaty bodies, you forget all about the world beyond the cheers of your friends as you make out with a woman on the dance floor and the flavored liquor on your lips. The events that occurred between midnight and 3 AM are a haze when you wake up before lunchtime the next morning, body halfway off the couch and head throbbing so intensely you think you might pass out before you reach the bathroom for some aspirin.

You stumble into the room, squinted eyes barely seeing two feet in front of you, and fumble with the small plastic bottle of what you believe to be your magic pills. You swallow a couple of them and bend low to take a few sips of water directly from the running faucet. Your skull feels like it’ll split open with any strong enough stimulus. You sink to the cool floor and close your eyes, breathing as steadily as you can through your mouth to relax a little. You think you fall asleep for a while, leaning against the cabinets while the medicine does its job of reducing your headache to a dull pulse. Three firm knocks on your front door wake you up abruptly and you jerk away from the sink in surprise. You wipe the corner of your mouth. Blinking away remnants of drowsiness, you shakily stand on your bare feet and run a hand over your face as you walk to the entrance of your apartment. You hope you don’t look as bad as you feel, but you know that’s likely the case. Still, you adjust your clothes and your hair before opening the front door. 

A mailman is waiting for you with a package in hand and thrusts a form in yours after a disingenuous greeting. You sign the paper confirming whatever delivery you just received, a little out of it. He leaves once the small square box is given to you. You walk back inside, turning the package over in your hands before tearing it open. A glittering necklace lies inside, nestled in suede. The gems embedded into it easily catch the light and would make a strong statement resting on any person’s collarbones. You stare at the jewelry, puzzled. Checking the package again reveals no return address, and if your mind was less hazy from this hangover, you would have guessed who the gift was from immediately. Your cell phone pings with a text, bringing you out of your confusion long enough to find it on the floor in front of the couch. You press the message to open the private conversation. The recipient has no caller ID and is texting you like you’re supposed to know who they are. You lay the jewelry box on the coffee table and reply quickly.

“Who the fuck is that…?” You slowly ask no one in particular, brows twisting in a frown. 

You type in a text and send it. The reply you receive sobers you up like an ice cold shower. You rub your eyes with one hand and hold your phone a bit farther from your face as if it poses a threat to your safety, disbelieving. The nerve… There’s a familiar flutter in the depths of your belly but the sensation is uncomfortable now, eating at you and forcing you to take a deep breath.

You block the number before another message can pop up. Frustration bubbles up inside your chest, Kafka’s dedication to remaining a part of your life like a coffee stain on a white tablecloth is seriously messing with you. Make amends? She can’t be this dense. The gifts, her promise to send more— is her image of you so shallow that she believes you can be bought with fancy clothes and jewelry? None of these have been thoughtful or paired with a note that contains more than three words. She’s hurt you more than she understands, clearly. Your issues with her behavior are evident, you don’t believe the idea of them not computing in her mind, she’s smarter than that. She’s kept key details of her life from you, lied to you and caused over a dozen scientists to lose their lives for a component that could surely be found elsewhere, not to mention her treatment of you afterwards and her lack of remorse for the emotional damage she’s inflicted on you. Your feelings are more than justified and run deeper than petty grievances. You don’t understand her at all, and at this point, you don’t care to.

An offended scoff escapes your lips and your first reflex is to tell your best friend about the situation, looking to vent your irritation to a person that’ll stand by you no matter what unlike Kafka’s fickle attitude. You video call Himeko’s number and wait until she picks up at the last ring. Her fiery hair is slightly disheveled, held up tightly in a ponytail. She’s not wearing her usual elegant clothing and is instead clad in overalls with a plaid shirt underneath. Motor oil stains her cheek and fingertips as she waves at you through the screen. You think you can see engines and steam behind her, you can definitely hear hissing noises in the background. 

“Uh… Are you busy?” You ask, taking in the dark stains on the front of her overalls. “Are you working on the Express?”

Himeko makes a sound of agreement. “Don’t worry, I always have time for you though. How are you?”

“Hangover. What’s wrong with the train?”

“Nothing as of three minutes ago. I just finished fixing some issues but it wasn’t anything too serious. I’m due for a shower. You said you’re hungover? You do kind of look… disheveled.”

“I appreciate the euphemism,” you sit cross legged on the couch. “I woke up not too long ago and immediately popped some over-the-counter medicine.”

“So you went out last night? Or were you drinking alone?”

“I went to a bar with some friends, took your advice and drank until I passed out.”

“That was not my advice.” Himeko’s frown makes you smile. “At least you left your house and returned safely. I told you it’d be good for you not to stay cooped up in here.”

You hum absentmindedly. “I don’t remember most of the night, honestly. I think I made out with someone for like… twenty minutes, four songs. But that’s not why I called— I got something in the mail today.”

Before Himeko can ask what it is, you reach for the jewelry box on the coffee table and hold it up to the camera so the necklace is in full view. You tilt it this way and that, the outside light reflecting prettily on the clear-cut gems. You watch Himeko’s eyebrows raise as she moves from her spot in the engine room, likely headed to her room for that shower she mentioned a few minutes ago.

“Wow, that’s gorgeous. Did you try it on?”

“No.”

“Is that a treat for yourself? You deserve it, you had a really rough week and it’d look good with that fancy low-cut top you have— the silk one?”

Maybe it would, too bad you’ll never wear it. 

“I didn’t buy it, I got it as a gift,” you put the necklace down next to you and close the small box, making sure to put an emphasis on the last word.

“Oh? It must have cost a small fortune. From who?”

“Kafka.”

The easygoing smile Himeko wears disappears in an instant. She stops moving somewhere in a hallway, near panoramic windows that show the galaxy beyond them. Tiny creases form along her brows and she stares at you intently, worry and affront clear in her gaze.

“Kafka sent that to you?”

You nod. “She’s been sending me stuff all week, clothes mostly, but this one really took the cake because she texted me from an encrypted number afterwards.”

“Why won’t she leave you alone?” Himeko looks vexed on your behalf and you shrug, relieved that your feelings are validated by her anger. “What did she say? Please, tell me you blocked the number immediately.”

You hesitate a couple of seconds too long, Himeko’s shoulders slump and her lips part to reprimand you but you interrupt her readily, “I blocked her! I swear. She said she wanted to ‘make amends’ and it pissed me off so bad, I blocked her number again. Can you believe her ego? Does she think my world revolves around her, that I’m just waiting for her to make it up to me before I take her back with open arms? We didn’t even have anything. We used each other for sex and despite the semblance of good-natured relationship we had, she still chose to betray me!”

Himeko studies the hurt in your eyes at your outburst and pauses, her gaze flitting across your face for a moment. You exhale, willing yourself to calm down. Your heart rate has picked up a few paces and you despise how easily Kafka gets a rise out of you without even being in the room. The redhead leans on a nearby wall.

“You have every right to be as angry as you feel,” she starts, meeting your eyes with a knowing look in her golden ones, “but… You’re this angry because you have feelings for her, don’t you?”

“W-What?” Your stutter sells you out and Himeko tilts her head in a silent gesture to not lie to her. 

“I had my doubts. You talked about her a lot, I don’t even think you noticed. And your word choice just now; ‘betray you’?” You wanted to trust her and hoped she'd let you in, but she manipulated you instead. It’s normal to be hurt, and while I have… opinions about that, you can’t help what you feel.”

You look away from the screen, lowering the camera in resignation. There’s no use in arguing Himeko’s point because you both know the truth already and you’re too out of it to fight the obvious. You don’t say anything so the line is silent for a while, Himeko resumes her walk towards her cabin and gives you a moment to gather your thoughts. You didn’t know you talked about Kafka this often but the information doesn’t surprise you, she made your days exciting and you genuinely liked her for more than sex. You used the latter as an excuse to justify the former countless times. From the beginning, you were attracted to more than her body, and from the beginning, you were more attached to her than she was to you. Even though these are facts that you’re aware of, your throat tightens at the reminder. 

“I hate it,” you say quietly after a while, facing Himeko’s figure in the camera.

“I know, sweetheart. Nothing’s easy about what you’re going through right now, but it’s not the end of everything. I’m here to help you through it and you have your friends that are there for you too, just don’t isolate yourself while we figure out a path forward, okay?”

“What if she contacts me  again?”

“Then you tell me immediately.”

“What, you’ll come to beat her up?”

Himeko laughs softly. “I don’t resort to violence without at least a conversation first, but….”

Her long pause brings a white toothed smile to your face and Himeko’s eyes crinkle at the corners at the sight. 

After assuring you that she’ll text you in the evening, Himeko hangs up the call. You run a hand over your face, chest heavy. You’ll donate the necklace once you feel less like a wet rag that’s been wrung until no moisture is left. Someone will probably be happy to stumble upon a find like this one, and if Kafka’s ill intentioned gesture can bring happiness to one person then perhaps that cancels everything out. 

The next afternoon, you find yourself in a clothing store that resembles the one you first met Kafka in months ago, browsing the racks for whatever catches your eye. Shopping for clothes relaxes you; feeling the different fabrics and textures under your fingertips, finding a piece that resonates with you, admiring the craftsmanship and creation process of the items on display are all things that take your mind off the mundanity of your life. You’re not that well-versed in fashion, not really, even if it interests you. You’re approached by one of the store’s consultants and it’s as you politely decline her help that you realize that this is something you could do. You could take classes about a subject that actually matters to you and work in that domain afterwards— maybe you’ll learn how to make your own clothes and sharpen your personal style. The idea makes you smile among elegant blouses. You can deal with your parents’ expectations of you if it means you won’t spend another day in an office researching mechanical components for projects you don’t care about. 

You pass by your local thrift store to donate the necklace, but they won’t accept it. The employee’s eyes widens after one look and drags her manager to the front, who in turn adamantly refuses to take such a precious item from you. They wouldn’t know how to price it and its value is a few zeros too many to belong in a thrift store. You leave the place a little dejected, you don’t want to make any money out of it or it’ll feel like Kafka did you a favor in the end. You look at the box in your hands for a minute, then make up your mind. You’ll pawn it and give the money from it to the families who lost their loved ones during the incident last week. It won’t bring them back, it might not alleviate their families’ grief at all, but at least they’ll be set for years in the future and that’s something, right? That’s one thing Kafka would have (indirectly) done to make amends. 

You decide to pawn the necklace after doing a bit more research about it to make sure you don’t get ripped off. You put it back in your bag for the time being and make your way back to your home, shopping bags around both of your wrists. By car, it takes less than half an hour to reach your apartment building. You carefully park in the designated spot and struggle to carry all of your bags to the elevator. Maybe splurging on clothes wasn’t the best financial decision when you plan to return to school and are currently unemployed. You repeat the phrase “I deserve it” like a mantra all the way to your floor. Standing in front of your door, you’ve almost completely deluded yourself that you do, indeed, deserve five new pairs of pants, nine pretty tops and two jackets you’ll wear at most three times in the next year. You’re not too sure about the pairs of shoes you bought afterwards… 

You free one hand to turn the key into the hole and push the door open. Picking the shopping bags back up, you step into your apartment with a sigh, wondering how you’ll begin to start this new chapter of your life. The door hasn’t fully closed behind you that you freeze where you stand, assaulted by the various colors and fragrances of flowers resting on every surface of your home, some in bouquets twice as big as the other ones and all of them transforming your apartment into a disorganized greenhouse. Your mouth opens, bewildered. You can’t count the different kinds of flowers that are there, you only recognize a handful of them. You’re so shocked by the sight that you don’t notice the figure stepping out of your kitchen until she speaks and a sharp scream of surprise flies from your lips.

“Hey– It’s just me,” Kafka lifts her gloved hands in a gesture she means peaceful.

Stupefied, the bags in your hands fall to the ground with a soft thud. Your heart races widely in your chest and you cover your mouth with a palm, eyes closing with the next shaky exhale that you let out. It takes you a minute to slow the drumming of your heart enough to utter words that aren’t strained. 

“How did you get in here?”

“You didn’t change the locks. Seriously, it’s like you wanted me to show up again.” Her joke lands flat and her smile falters an inch at your glare. “Not in the mood for jokes, alright.”

She walks to the couch and picks up an item your eyes previously skimmed over. It’s an intricate hexagonal vase with a soft brown tint, clearly meticulously made. The glass looks very fragile judging by the way she carries it and outstretches her hands towards you, presenting it to you like a gift. 

“For the flowers you want to keep,” she says. 

You’re going to break it over her head. 

[theemporium]

Max ready to destroy the earth if someone so much as disrespects or pisses Trouble off

it’s low-key giving will smith🤠anyways thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Max was always very blunt and honest in conferences and interviews, it was just the way he was.

And it wasn’t uncommon for him to defend himself and his friends in said interviews. He did it countless times when journalists tried to push stories about him being too aggressive, too angry, too competitive on track.

He did it countless times when they would come for Charles and blame he was taking for his team’s mistakes. He did it countless times when people questioned Daniel’s performance and his right to have the Red Bull seat. He did it countless times when they tried to drag Lando for not achieving highly when McLaren weren’t giving him the car he needed to be proving he could do as much.

And he would be damned if he didn’t do it for you too.

It was after a race. He was tired, exhausted even, and all he wanted to do was wrap up the rest of his duties so he could maybe sneak a nap in with you before you both joined the rest of the team for a night out to celebrate his win.

He was approaching the last interviewers, a name he vaguely recognised and his nose scrunched up when he remembered most of the man’s questions were tasteless and dry. But he shrugged it off, keeping a passive face as he approached the journalist with his PR manager lingering behind him with a tape recorder in hand.

“Max Verstappen, how does it feel to be a winner again?”

He gave the man a tight-lipped smile and hoped it was enough to hide his exhaustion as he continued the interview.

And it was going fine, in retrospect. The man’s questions were similar to the countless ones he had been asked before. But he couldn’t complain because they were easy to answer, and easy to mostly zone out until he knew he had to answer.

Until he asked something that caught Max’s attention right away.

“Any plans to celebrate with your side piece after your race win? Maybe get her on her knees?”

Max blinked, and for a short moment he wondered if he just completely mistranslated what the man said.

“What?”

But the man repeated the question again, a slimy smirk on his face and your name was rolling off his tongue. And truthfully, Max didn’t even remember moving or reacting or even breathing in that moment.

One second the man was holding a microphone to his face, awaiting his answer. And the next, he was on the floor as he clutched his bloody nose and screamed Bloody Mary.

He was vaguely aware of other drivers and journalists and PR managers looking over, trying to understand the scene in front of them. He was vaguely aware of security being called and someone mentioning Christian or Helmut. He was vaguely aware of someone trying to tug him back, but he just shrugged them off.

“She’s my girlfriend, you moronic dickhead,” Max spat at the crying journalist. “Put some fucking respect on her name.”

“Alright, let’s go before you break any more noses,” he heard Daniel mutter behind him, and this time he let himself be pulled back.

But then his eyes caught the wide, scared gaze of the cameraman who was recording the whole thing, and he glared. “I hope that bullshit was live. Because next time, I’m breaking more than a fucking nose if anyone ever disrespects her again.”

Despite the commotion being sudden, news spread very quickly around the paddock so it was no surprise to Max that you knew by the time he made it to his driver’s room.

“Playing the knight in shining armour now, huh?” You teased as he entered, still sprawled on the couch without a bother in the world.

“He deserved it,” Max stated simply as he made his way towards you. No matter what happened, no matter what put him in a shitty mood, just being near you always helped.

“He did,” you hummed as you opened your arms and let your boy settle on top of you, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for defending me.”

“Always, Trouble,” he murmured in reply.

A few beats passed.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind seeing you do it again,” you said, trying to keep your voice as casual as possible as you ran your fingers through his hair. “It was kinda hot.”

You could feel his smirk against your neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Max lifted his head, his eyes a little darker and his mood significantly different to when he entered minutes ago. “Hot enough for me to fuck you over this couch?”

“Hot enough for you to have me any way you want me,” you confessed, your words a little breathier than usual as you felt his hands graze down your side.

Max’s smile was almost sadistic. “Bend over the couch, Trouble.”

.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

I'm so annoyed, my best friend has such an asshole for a husband. He basically never pays attention to her, all he cares about sport, beer and his friends. He never helps around the house and he's a lazy slob! He's always at the gym or going to the game with his bros. He's such a prick, maybe he should just be date his bros since he's so obsessed with them. He's always complaining about his wife "bothering him". Plus who would want to marry a slob anyway, as a husband he should be devoted to cleaning his house and caring about who he is married to.

I think I found the guy you're talking about, and you're totally right about him being an asshole. Your friend deserves better than an uncaring, selfish, pig-of-a-husband. That girl has tolerated him for too long! She won't be seeing him or his sexist buddies ever again when I'm done here...

Just look at him! The first thing he does when he gets home is grab a beer and park that fat ass of his on the couch. Sure, he might hit the gym later on his way to the bar, but he's not planning on helping his wife out with dinner. He's not really planning on talking to her at all until he needs a blow job later tonight.

You mentioned his name was Brett, I think?

Well, Brett can barely hold a job. He's lucky you gave him a chance and got him a gig as a delivery man. I think he's been doing this for a month now, but he absolutely resents the work. Brett can't really enjoy anything unless he has a beer in his hand, and he absolutely hates wearing that stuffy little uniform.

Nevertheless, he's been consistently showing up so far; probably because his wife is waking him up, washing his clothes, and feeding him breakfast. Brett essentially only uses her as a maid and sex toy!

It's a good thing I've got something planned for Brett today as he starts his delivery rounds. He doesn't notice me following as he grumpily carries a package out of his truck, and he doesn't have time to react when I reach out and grab the back of his head.

"You're not going to move," I command, sinking my fingers into the soft parts of his skull, "You're going to let me in."

A deep sigh blows out of Brett's mouth, and I know his willpower is gone. "I'm not going to move. I'll let you in..." he repeats numbly.

With permission, I shoot inside his mind, discovering much of what I expected. His thoughts revolve around meeting up with his bros after work. He hasn't genuinely cared to think about his wife in ages. His mind is just as simple and unlikeable as he is.

Good thing I'm here to change it!

"Brett, I'm changing your thoughts. You like that. You want me to rewrite you."

"You're..." he struggles to form words, "You're changing my thoughts. I like that. I want you to rewrite me..."

"Good," I grin maliciously.

Bringing my lips closer to his ear, I begin to fill his head with his new personality. He accepts all his new goals and dreams wholeheartedly. I imagine, you will like them. They're the ones you asked for...

Done for now, I pull out of his mind, whipping Brett back into consciousness! He gasps for air as he regains his senses, but then something overtakes him. He's taken off running down the street!

I follow behind, knowing exactly where he'll end up. I must say that I enjoy watching his thick ass jogging away in those tight brown shorts. He's a lot more muscular than I gave him credit for.

I'm sure his new husband will enjoy that body of his too.

Brett sprints several blocks and runs straight up to a house at the end of the street. It's the home of one of his football buddies. I think his name might be Axel or Alex or something. I'm not sure.

Anyways, Brett bangs on the door, panting like a dog. When the door is finally opened, he wastes no time. Brett pulls his bro in for the long passionate kiss he's been waiting for.

"Dude?" his friend mumbles as their lips part, "What are you doing?"

Little does he know that I already hypnotized him, too. He's going to accept everything Brett does like it's what he's wanted all along.

"Axel! Man, I love you!" Brett moans, pulling his football buddy in closer, "I want you to marry me. I'll quit my job and be your housewife. I'll be better at that! And you can boss me around and use me however you want, bro! I mean everything; cooking, cleaning, everything!"

"Woah, dude! That's a lot to take in," he hesitates, but already his mind is giving in, "But yeah. I like the sound of that. Being my wife means more than just cooking and cleaning though."

Brett looks at his new love earnestly. Meanwhile, Axel straightens up and crosses his arms to look rough.

"It means pleasure, whenever I want it and wherever I want it. It means you only get to watch the football games in between you serving me and my friends. By the way, they're just my friends now. Got it, dude?"

"Yeah," Brett whines, "Just let me start now!"

Axel smirks and pulls his new house husband into the house, giving him a possessive slap on the butt as they pass over the threshold.

"Alright, bitch. I'm gonna treat you just as bad as you did that old girl of yours."

"Who?" Brett asks out of genuine confusion, but he's already brushed off the comment and dropped to his knees.

"I don't know. Don't care either," Axel sneers, "Just get started. Haven't blown a load all day."

The faint sound of repetitive gagging echoes out of the house as the front door slams shut. It seems like my work here is done.

The football gang will enjoy having a very willing bro to take care of all their needs, and Brett will do it with a genuine smile on his face. That friend of yours is a free woman, so I suggest she find something fulfilling to do with her life. Brett may be trapped in another marriage, but she sure as hell isn't!

Hope you liked how I handled your problem!

[slut4msby]

one of 'those'. sakusa kiyoomi x reader (part two.)

+ tags & warnings; part one is not needed to read part two :3

+ a/n; day 4/7!! i thought yall deserved a part two but i also just really wanted to write a part two :3

+ part one.

Ever since you gave birth to your daughter almost two years ago, Kiyoomi had not put her down. He would always tell you it’s because you were constantly working too hard and needed a break, which was the partial truth. In reality Kiyoomi couldn’t get enough of his daughter. She was the happiest baby, constantly giggling and smiling the complete opposite of Sakusa, however her looks were uncanny with her father. The pair was inseparable. When Sakusa would go away for away-games Mei would be in tears until you facetimed Kiyoomi, suddenly her smile which you adored so much was back. If Kiyoomi wasn’t available you would have to put on old matches or interviews containing her father. It made you a little bit jealous that Kiyoomi managed to steal all of your daughter's attention despite the fact you were the one who gave birth to her. 

Today Sakusa was at another away game. He missed his two pretty girls like hell, the same cycle for each game. All he wanted to do was go home and cuddle up to his wife and daughter. This time was different though, with the help of Meian you had planned to surprise Kiyoomi at the match today. Today’s match was important for Sakusa, MSBY Vs. EJP Raijin. A match against his cousin, and former teammate. The perfect match to bring Mei too. You had planned to sit in the stands to not distract Kiyoomi, and surprise him after the match by going down with your pass towards the end of the match.

As you arrived at the stadium with your daughter in hand. She wore a MSBY #15 jersey for her dad that was too big - essentially wearing it as a dress. Her hair was in two pigtails tied with yellow bows that matched her curly black hair. 

“You ready Mei-Mei?” You asked your daughter. To which she eagerly nodded in response, she was Sakusa’s biggest fan.

You and your daughter walked up to your seats, not too far back that Mei couldn’t see but also not too close that your surprise would be given away.

The match started off with Tomas serving for MSBY. The rallies were intense as expected from a division 1 match. As the rotation moved it was now Atsumu’s turn to serve. This piqued Mei’s interest as she looked closer and then back to you, “MAMA LOOK! IT’S UNCLE TSUMU!” Your daughter yelled. You couldn’t help but giggle at your daughter’s excitement. Sakusa hated how Atsumu got your daughter to call him ‘uncle Atsumu’. Your daughter was now watching intensely as Komori failed to receive the ball. “Momo, couldn’t pick it up mama. I don’t think I could either.” Your daughter frowned as Atsumu went in for his second serve, this time Komori was able to receive the ball almost flawlessly making your daughter stare at her actual uncle with admiration. However when EJP went to attack, MSBY perfectly received the ball letting Atsumu set up an attack which he tossed to Sakusa, scoring.

“And that’s MSBY’s #15, Kiyoomi Sakusa!” The commentators added over the speakers.

“Dada! Mama look! It’s dad.” 

“It is dad, Mei-Mei!” You say giving your daughter a tight squeeze, making her giggle. 

As the game was in it’s last set you got up from your seat, grabbing Mei and your belongings heading into the foyer. You walked up to the security showing them your lanyard before walking down to the court. Making sure to stand to the side walking towards their coach, Samson Foster. 

“Ah! I see you guys made it just in time.” Foster said, waving at Mei.

It was now at match point. You stood there intensely watching with Mei as the teams put all their effort into attacking and defending.

“Bokkun!” You heard Atsumu shout.

Bokuto ran up to the net, jumping. Only to get blocked by Suna and Bokuto’s ex-teammate Tatsuki Washio. MSBY’s Libero Shion Inunaki was quick to receive the ball.

“Omi!” Atsumu called, tossing the ball to Kiyoomi.

And Sakusa being Sakusa scored perfectly. “DADA!” Mei shouted towards Kiyoomi, gaining his attention. As his daughter enthusiastically waved at him.

The final whistle blew, gaining screams from the crowd as MSBY celebrated their win. Mei ran over to her dad who turned around at the sound of his daughter's footsteps, picking her up and throwing her in the air before catching her. “I didn’t know you two were going to be here.” He said to his daughter.

“It was mummy’s idea!” 

Kiyoomi couldn’t help but turn to you standing on the side, “Mhm? Well Mummy’s always got brilliant ideas, hey?” Mei eagerly nodded, “how ‘bout you go back to mummy and I’ll come see you two in a second.” He said before kissing his daughter's head, causing her to giggle and run back to you.

The two teams finished their post match traditions before Kiyoomi came over to your side. “Didn’t know you were gonna be here.” He said softly.

“Surprise!” You smiled at him. 

You walked with your daughter and husband towards the exit, “I’m going to get changed, I’ll see you two in a bit.”

“Okay dada!” Mei chimed.

As you and Mei stood waiting for your husband, someone crept behind you grabbing your daughter's shoulders causing her to let out a shriek. 

“Boo!” The voice called out.

You and Mei turned around, to see Komori standing behind you. “Momo!” Mei beamed. 

“Hey Mei-Mei, hey Y/N!” Komori said before picking up Mei giving her a hug, “Did ya like watching me Mei-Mei?”

“Yeah! But I liked watching dada more.” Mei said sternly.

“Of course you did. Your dad has a lot of fans you know. But I think you’re his favourite fan.” 

“Mei-chan!” Bokuto yelled out before him and Hinata ran up to your daughter. “Bo! Shoyo!” Mei said excitedly. 

The group of boys started chatting and playing with Mei as you waited for your husband. 

“Mei~ Your uncle ‘Tsumu is here!” Atsumu called proudly.

“Uncle ‘Tsumu!” 

“Stop making my daughter call you that, Miya.” Kiyoomi stated firmly. Before walking over to you. Kiyoomi was never one for affection but as you two stood there watching your daughter, he had snaked a hand around your waist. “I love you, and I love Mei.” He said, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Mhm? I love you too, Kiyo. But I think Bokuto is trying to steal our daughter.” You giggle. 

This caused Kiyoomi to go into what you called “Serious dad Kiyoomi mode” - very original name. “Hey, bring me my daughter back!” 

“How did I get so lucky?”  You smile to yourself. 

©slut4msby.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

“My Apologies You Must Have Me Mistaken For Someone Else”

+Synopsis+

AU where MC(You) remembers everything, but the LADS Men forget everything. Guess it's your turn to make them fall in love all over again. You did it once you can do it again. Right?

How do you tell someone they've loved you for centuries? In every lifetime? You don't. You love them in silence and do your best in hopes they'll reciprocate those feelings you're trying so hard not to show too soon.

Zayne

Your memories of everything with Zayne came flooding back one day. So fast that you actually almost passed out. The pain was excruciating who would have thought remembering could be so painful. Even worse it was in the middle of a battle with a wanderer. In the midst of you holding your head to try and subdue the pain you were pierced straight through the chest.

It was as if everything seemed to slow down. So much blood you could feel your vision darkening while your head was swimming as you lay there on the ground. Your life, no your lives literally flashing in front of your eyes.

"Y/N!" He's yelling. Zayne is yelling. You've never seen this much emotion on his face. Your face is soaked his tears must be dripping onto your face. No wait those are your tears. You're crying.

"I'm sorry" Your voice is nothing more than a raspy whisper. You can feel the pressure of his hands on your body. Why is he so cold? No wait. You're the one that's cold. He's warm.

So warm. You're no longer in pain anymore. You must be dying yet all you could focus on was the fact that Zayne has sacrificed himself again....and again.....and again.

For you. Always you.

That's the only thing that hurts now.

You try to curl into his body but you can't feel your own. It takes everything and then some to reach a hand up and caress his face. That stoic face, which isn't stoic at all now, just one last time. "I'm so sorry Zayne" I'm so sorry I keep forgetting you in every life. You deserve to be happy. I hope we meet again in my next life since I can't seem to die correctly. I'll come back to you and I'll remember you this time. I'll make it right. I'll do whatever it takes to get to you. Don't give up on me.

You died in Zaynes arms that day. The God Astra was pleased by your declaration so he figured he'd give you a little.....gift.

You woke up in the hospital with a jolt almost head butting the person standing over you. It was Tara. "You're awake! oh my gosh you're awake" She ran from the room in a hurry yelling down the hall for a doctor.

She came back shortly with two nurses and ..... Zayne? Your heart rate shot through the roof as he approached the bed taking a seat next to you. You couldn't help yourself the biggest smile plastered on your face as you wrapped you arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

It felt so good to have him in your arms again.

He sat there frozen not moving an inch. You noticed the confused stares of his colleagues and Tara behind him. Was he just being professional? You figured he'd at least be happy you remember him this time.

You died in his arms why is he acting like this? There was a quick double pat on your back as he slowly removed your arms from his neck. "Glad to see you're awake Miss..." He trails off as he looks at you chart "....Miss L/N. You were out for quite some time"

You stared in disbelief there was no way he forgot you. It had to be because there were others in the room with you. "Can I have a word with you alone Za- .... Dr. Zayne?"

His expression gave away nothing as he dismissed the nurses and Tara followed close behind. "I'll be right outside" You gave her a curt nod and a tight lipped smile. As the door closed behind her you turned to Zayne who was already getting started on checking your vitals.

"Zayne" He raised a hand cutting you off.

"Your vitals are stable we should be able to discharge you in two days tops." So professional. "Now what is it you'd like to speak to me about?'

"You- you don't remember? The wanderer and me in your arms and the blood" He stops you again.

"Ah yes your co-worker said you were pierced center mass during battle and hit your head pretty hard." He flips a page for your chart giving you nothing but professionalism. This isn't the Zayne you remember. "Luckily she got you medical attention in time. The attack grazed your heart and managed to puncture a lung in the process which saved your life in a way. We will need to do regular monitoring on your heart and lung just to be safe considering your profession as a hunter"

"You don't remember me do you?' You question with a shaky voice.

"My apologies you must have me confused with someone else." He stands and switches your IV bag before settling his gaze back on you. "Two days. We'll schedule your first two appointments on your day of discharge now please get some rest your heart rate has been elevated since I arrived." With that he turns and exits your room and just as soon as he leaves Tara is hurrying to your side to hug you with tears in her eyes. You stare blankly at the wall as tears slowly stream down your face.

So this is what it feels like. The love of your life doesn't remember you while you remember everything. It almost feels as though everything you two once had was never real.

He doesn't remember, but you do. You've switched places. But you made a promise and you intend to keep it.

"I'll come back to you and I'll remember you this time. I'll make it right. I'll do whatever it takes to get to you"

Rafayel, Xavier, and Sylus coming soon....

[walkingzombiegirl]

I NEED heavy butch 4 butch tension with abby anderson x nonchalant fem reader. Pleaseeee

too long to be a drabble, too short to be a full fic - i am having a brain block

The silence wasn't steady, your deep breaths creating a symphony in the air that seemed to only make the decision harder for her. She tapped her cards against the table, biting her lip while you watched.

Something was playing on TV - what - she didn't know. She tuned it out while deciding whether or not playing her hand was a good idea. But no matter what she was, or was not going to do, it felt you already knew the answer. It made her shiver.

She was aware your eyes were on her, however, she didn't look up. Instead, Abby reached forward and placed one of her two cards down, practically hearing your shit-eating grin appear.

"I win." You said, looking up at your friend with a triumphant hum and no cards in your hands. You had already put them down before she made her move, she could've punched herself.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"You did better that time..." You shrugged, taking the cards in order to form the deck once again. "Better isn't good." Abby huffed, tossing the cards to your end of the table while you snickered in return. "You did good, Abbs, practice makes perfect. You'll be beating Manny in no time."

Your eyes flickered up at her, meeting her own for a moment. You gave her a smile, shuffling the deck as you did so.

"You're just not as good as me yet." You whispered, her blue eyes blinking in response, her head slowly moving to shake. "You're a dick." She said in the same tone, the girl then rolled her eyes and tried to not take notice of your gaze.

"I learned young, you're learning now. There's a difference." "Not when you look stupid." You shook your head, shifting, the movement making a noise in the cargo pants you wore. "You don't look stupid to me."

The silence rolled over again, the cards moving back and forth between your palms while you thought.

"Y'know... never mind." You paused, looking down while your fingers danced around the deck, moving the cards effortlessly while she side-eyed. "What?" Abby asked, but you didn't answer. "Nothing." "No, c'mon say it."

Her smile faltered, and she quickly became nervous that you noticed. However, you didn't seem to, staring at your rings with a patient look.

You startled her, eyes suddenly stared back.

"I was gonna say... you look really nice in that lamplight." "Oh fuck off." She tossed a beer cap at you, your eyes tracking it as it rolled away. "I'm serious, Abigail. Owen is an idiot." It was said so plainly she almost choked, ignoring the light pink dusting her cheeks that she hoped you didn't see.

"You think all men are idiots." She said with an obvious tone, a tight lipped smile on her face. "Yes because women don't deserve them." "And who does?" The room felt thick, almost suffocating you while you shrugged once more.

"Give it up and hand over the cards." She cut in. "No... I don't think I will." You shook your head, staring at her. "You're too... pretty. He makes me squirm." Abby rolled her eyes, reaching towards you to grab the cards. "Nothing makes you squirm, you're a-" "A what?"

You'd moved the cards from her reach, her face inches from yours. Her breath fanned your lips, head moving to tilt just the slightest.

"You know I'm right, Abby." She only stared, moving like prey caught in a trap to look at your hand, fingers wrapped around the deck of cards. Ace of hearts resting on top. "You're way out of his league."

"Was. He's with Mel now." She grabbed the deck, backing up a bit, but not retreating. "Fortunately." She didn't have to ask why.

"Play again?" You then asked, holding up a card that you'd slipped from the deck, her eyes moving down to look at it. "How-" "I'll let you win this time."

The card flipped. Ace of hearts.

"You're a dickhead." "Yeah... but you love it, be honest."

i genuinely despise this yet loved the request, i love you anon know that at least

[truefant4sy]

Can I make a request for some smutty king uceyjucey jey uso pretty plz

attitude.

okay love ENJOY<3

warnings: choking,crying,sorta dom/sub,squriting

"you gon act this the whole ride?" josh looked her awaiting her answer.

"Yup." she spoke back bitterly why was she mad? because well this was his first break in 3 months it was back-to-back shows and she only ever got to see him if they had something going on in the same city, state etc.

Now that he was home all he did was sleep answer emails and sleep more.

I mean it was well deserved but God was she horny.

"well then what's the point of me being here ma?" he asked her rubbing at his beard looking all too god with that black compression shirt and those chains, she knew that if riled him up enough she would get exactly what she wanted which was nice rough beating straight to her pussy, "I don't fucking know just stop talking to me already bitch" she turned to look at waiting for his face to screw up once he realized what she just called him yet it didn't.

he only silently pulled off the highway onto the streets of LA which was clearly far away from their destination which was the LAX airport for their jet to Dubai "you really just don't know how to shut the fuck up huh?" he asked her as he was parked into the far corner of the dark empty parking lot that was empty due to it only being 3 in the morning "I guess not" she replied smartly making him look at her waiting to see if she would even try to take back what she said.

he only nodded his head when he realized she was set in her decisions he unbuckled his seatbelt and made his way around the hood of their rental and to her side which were he opened the door without saying anything and unbuckling her seatbelt and scoping her out of the passenger seat and with her still in his arm he opened the backseat door and tossed her down in the seat leaving her on her back as before following behind her climbing on top of her his arms holding himself up above her and closing the door "Ima give you one more chance mama.

so what you call me?" his brown eyes bore into eyes as he rubbed his legs clearly ready to pounce it she gave him the wrong answer "A bitch that's what I call-" before she could even finish what she was saying his hand was tightly around her throat as he gave her rough kiss not even giving her any time to adjust to it making her moan he made sure to kiss her for long enough to the point she couldn't breathe making her push at his chest as she steadily sucked her tongue harder he only pulled away for a second to catch his own breathe before going back in.

"Lemme take these off" he muttered in between kisses his hands on her ass as he kneaded it through her black leggings, she lifted up her hips up as he roughly tugged them down her thick legs leaving her bare and she wasn't wearing any panties underneath them "nasty ass." he commented as he saw her panty-less.

his thumb started flicking at her clit making her moan.

he slid down now face level with her pussy and wasting no time using one of his hands to hold her pussy lips open as he his tongue worked absolute magic on his clit his other hand had two fingers his index and middle knuckle deep in her tight pussy as he fingered her roughly "shittt slow down".

she whimpered as his fingers seemed to speed up at the second "shut the fuck up" he groaned into her pussy as her pussy spasmed around his fingers her hands shot down to grab at his curly short hair to push his mouth more onto her pussy his eyes stared up at her as her eyebrows bunched up together as she bit her bottom lip.

"It feels so fucking good oh my godd" her back arched up out of the seat as he used the hand that was holding her pussy open to lift her clit and lick at the sensitive spot that never failed to make her cum.

"fuckkkk daddy I'm gonna cum" her voice was high pitched, and her moans got even higher and more frequent "c'mon fucking cum" he groaned into her pussy as her legs violently shook.

"I'm fucking cumming holy fucking shit" her moan was high pitched as she tightly gripped his hair making him moan into her as he slurped everything that came out of her pussy which caused her to shiver.

yet he didn't stop fingering her orgasm finished "alright- fuck Joshua stop" she screamed as he curled his fingers as he found exactly what he was looking for, "shut that shit up mama this is exactly what you wanted don't run now" he had to toss her legs over his shoulders to keep her from trying to close them.

she tried to sit up to scoot away but he only pushed her back down onto the seat "no more please-" as much as she tried to plead with him her body did the exact opposite of what she was saying.

"Shh wet up this seat ma I know you want to" he cooed her.

Her face screwed up even more her eyes rolling back as she felt warm all over her stomach clenching painfully and just like that, she squirted all over his fingers with a loud moan.

"fuckkkking shitt" watching her like this made him even more hard even when he was mad at her he couldn't help but still be attracted to her body once he pulled his fingers out, he pulled down his sweats and boxers and discarded them somewhere on the floor along with her leggings.

he slapped her puffy clit with the fat tip of his dick making her gush a bit more "please daddy I need it" she whined rubbing at her puffy wet folds "speak like a big girl baby you know how" he purred while he jerked off above her, her legs still on either side of his broad shoulders.

"i need you to fuck me please" she whined rubbing at his stomach underneath his shirt "take this off" she tugged on his shirt making him flash her his pretty smile, as he took it off, she did the same with her sweatshirt which she also wore nothing underneath his hands reached out and began grabbing and twisting her nipples making her even more dizzy. at this point all she could hear was their hard breathing and the song.

"The Hills" by the weeknd played throughout the car as he slid it in, they both gasped making the moment all the more special, he quickly flipped her over on to her stomach made her lay down flat making sure she wasn't arching her back.

The last time they did this position she squirted so much there was a puddle in the bed.

His strokes started off slow to warm her up to his big size but once she got used to it, she swore her soul left her body and was replaced by another unworldly horny spirit she couldn't even control her mouth.

"Yo ass always got a damn attitude" josh spat as he picked up pace making her scream into the seat "you just like getting treated like this huh? you're such a fuckin slut".

he grabbed her hair and made her turn her head to look at him "there we go pretty mama let daddy see yo fine ass face" and all she could do was moan "your so fucking deep daddy I swear it's in my stomach fuckkk" she eyes were rolled back before she closed them tightly "yeah?" he grabbed the side of the door as he picked up his thrust the slapping sound getting louder than the new song that now played through the car "LSD" by asap rocky.

He grabbed her throat tightly as he made her lift her body up so he could bruise her lips even more with some even rougher kisses and once he was done, he pushed her back down onto the seat.

"Say sorry" he smacked her ass with so much force it brought tears it her eyes "I'm sorry daddy- I didn't mean that I promise" she choked out through her sobs of pure pleasure and joy "yeah?tell me you love me baby tell me how much you fuckin love me".

he groaned his eyes shut as he mindlessly rocked himself deeper into her pussy "I love you so damn much daddy I promise I do" her skin was hot to the touch as she could feel that same painful clench in her stomach "I love you too baby" his hand gripped at her throat more the closer he got "I'm so close mama I wantchu to cum with me alright?" his body was shaking as he tried his best to push both of them to an orgasm.

his hand reached underneath her to rub at her clit.

once he did that it felt like fireworks were going off in her body and mind "FUCK " she screamed into the seat as her body endlessly sprayed his dick down making her toes curl as she gripped at the seat as her pussy clenched around him unbelievably tight, he could feel his own eyes brim with tears

"Fuck I'm boutta fill this pussy up. You better gimme some kids too" his dirty words made her tingly all over and as he filled her up.

They stayed like that for a bit until josh pulled out reached into the front and popped the center console open to pull out some wipes to clean her up.

"Next time you better fix ya attitude" he told her playfully as he wiped down her thighs "will do" she replied softly.

[silverbladexyz]

TW: Mentions of death, injuries, self-loathing. Part 2 to this. Part 3 is here.

"I can't believe you sometimes. What if you had actually been killed because of your recklessness?!"

"But I wasn't! Even if combat isn't my strong suit, I had it all under control; and besides, these wounds are nothing compared to what we've faced before!"

In the normally tranquil environment of the Port Mafia's infirmary, two voices argued back and forth. One laced with worry and anger, the other laced with guilty adamance. A pair of best friends seemed to be the reason behind this noise; with their stubbornness a guise of the true feelings that they harboured for each other.

"Are you seriously kidding me right now? Even if you had it all under control, that doesn't mean you can gamble your life away like it's nothing! How do you think everyone would feel if you died? Do you want to put them through more pain and suffering that could've been prevented if you were more cautious? Do you even care?!"

"..."

Instead of replying, you turned away, suddenly finding the window to be more interesting than whatever was going on right now.

He was right. You didn't think properly about the consequences before you jumped straight in to engage with the enemy, even if you may have had a backup plan.

"... I'm sorry."

It was soft, but Chuuya managed to catch it.

He gave a small sigh, his shoulders dropping as the tension in them wore out. You fiddled with your bandages, not having the courage to look at him in the eyes. Did you even deserve to, afterall? When you worried him sick after he learnt that he almost lost you?

You heard his footsteps approaching you, and mentally prepared for the next thing that he was going to say.

Only for him to somewhat tug you into his arms.

Your eyes widened, and you blinked several times before realising that Chuuya Nakahara, your best friend, was hugging you.

His breath fanned against your collarbone as he buried his face into your shoulder. Strong arms held you close to him, being mindful of the injuries that you sustained on your body- yet the grip they held you in was tight but secure.

"... You idiot. Don't you dare do that again."

It was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him.

You hugged him back, inhaling his rich scent as an unknown heat bloomed in your chest.

"I won't. I promise, Chuuya."

His warmth never left your memories.

Now, you watched as he stood with her, holding her hand. They were too far away for you to make out their words, but whatever she said made Chuuya laugh. A genuine, happy laugh that seemed so much more different from the short chuckles he normally gave you.

He put his arm around her shoulder, and you unconsciously hugged your body as you felt yourself getting colder. It was the third of December- the start of another winter in Yokohama. Marking the six month anniversary of their relationship.

A wry smile made it's way on your face as Chuuya pulled Yasuko in for a kiss. Even though it was a short peck, it was enough to make your heart twist in longing that exemplified whenever you were around him. It was stupid; you knew that your best friend deserved to have someone much better than the monster you were, but it didn't stop you from wishing that you were her. Someone that was a sight for sore eyes, with an aura brighter than the blue skies- someone that could get Chuuya mesmerised.

You even noticed how he became slightly more distant in the friendship. You knew that he wasn't doing it on purpose; he was still the great best friend that he always was, but the little signs were there. Holding your hand so that you wouldn't get lost in the crowd had diminished to just staying close to you. Whenever you called him on a free day to ask if he wanted to hang out with you, he would apologise, saying 'I have a date with Yasuko later'. And the fact that you had the same free days really said something about how much they meant to him.

You walked away, the sight getting too much to handle. Once you were at a safe distance, you crumpled against a wall, biting down on the inside of your mouth to stop the tears from leaking out. A higher-ranking mafioso like you, crying over some crush? Pathetic. An unfitting model for your subordinates who looked up to you as a great unflinching leader.

"Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty." You chuckled bitterly, digging your nails into your palms. You hated it- the soft gaze in Chuuya's eyes whenever Yasuko was mentioned, the way that he gently held her hand, the way he became much more sweet and patient with her that was almost nothing like how he acted around you- you hated it all. You regretted not confessing to him sooner all those years ago.

But you were only the side character in their romance; forever doomed to support them while you suffered in silence.

Was there something or somebody that you could blame for this agony that you were currently in? Destiny, perhaps? Or even Cupid? Those names only made you scoff as you stuffed your hands into your pockets.

There was nobody you could blame except for yourself.

Perhaps it would have been better if you were the one who saved Yasuko, not Chuuya. They would have never spent as much time with each other, and you'd still have a chance at romancing him. None of this would have happened if the roles were reversed at that time.

But who were you kidding? One way or another, they’d end up together by the red string of fate. The most perfect match in all of Yokohama that could put every other couple to shame. And you'd always be the third wheel- the 'best friend' whose sacrifices went unseen just so that they could be happy.

Or maybe it would have been better if Yasuko didn't exist in the first place.

"-Y/N? Y/N?"

A voice broke you out of your thoughts, and you blinked a bit before refocusing onto the girl in front of you.

"Is everything okay? N-not that you have to tell me what's wrong, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll always be here for you."

Yasuko looked at you with a concerned expression, her eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

Those innocent, beautiful eyes of hers that had held Chuuya captive in their gaze.

Ah, right. You were currently in the shopping mall with her, because her boyfriend had asked you to accompany her like some sort of bodyguard. And who were you to refuse, as his best friend who was always there for him? Well, you were grateful that Chuuya trusted you enough to let you near Yasuko. You had seen how protective he was of her.

"... Nothing. I'm alright."

You smiled at her, all traces of your previous emotions now gone. How could you have let your composure slip so easily? This hangout was so that you could 'get closer' with her, not reminiscing about the pathetic past that held you captive in this agonising love.

She frowned a little, but before she could say anything else, you jumped at the opportunity to distract her. Anything that could make you temporarily forget your pain for one moment was what you desperately needed now.

"Oh, looks like they're selling discounted jewellery! Let's take a look! You might find something that you like."

Grabbing her wrist, you dragged her towards the jewellery store despite having no intentions to buy anything. You simply wanted her to be distracted by the precious stones, so meticulously cut and fit into fine metal that it was laughable how they were mostly for show. A valuable trinket only made to be admired and forgotten at the end of the day, even when so much blood had been spilled over them. Blood that would forever stain the hands of a sinner such as you.

"Oh! I remember Chuuya taking me to a similiar store! He bought me a ring; I said that there was no need, but he insisted." Yasuko glanced down at the gold-and-red circlet that lay snugly around her index finger, her gaze becoming shyer as she profoundly remembered the day that her beloved boyfriend had bought it for her.

Your own silver ring that he gifted to you on your 18th birthday paled in comparison to the 5-carat Burmese ruby that sat atop her finger. It was a harsh reminder of who the buyer really preferred from between the two of you. That twisted feeling in your gut resurfaced, but you pushed it back down. You had no more frivolous hopes that he would one day realise you were the one whom he truly belonged with.

"Haha... did he now? I didn't know Chuuya was such a romantic. Did you know that rubies symbolise passionate and undying love?" You smiled as she blushed; the redness on her cheeks rivaling the shade of the precious gemstone that was proof of his commitment to her.

People were right when they said love hurts, but they never mentioned that it was the most painful sensation in the world. All the stab wounds and burns and whatnot that you had experienced from your enemies were nothing compared to a broken heart. A heart that was made to be torn apart to pieces as it weeps for the love it would never get.

Something cold brushed against your wrist, and you looked down to see a bracelet made up of the most exquisite yellow topaz. Yasuko held an identical one in her hand, her expression almost bashful as she faced you.

"I... I wanted to get matching bracelets for the two of us. I know it's only been a few months since we became friends, but being around you has really brightened up my life. I'm glad that we got to meet each other, and I hope that our friendship continues to grow and strengthen!"

She smiled at you; a smile so full of purity and beauty that it would've made many men fall onto her knees in front of her. It was a smile that didn't belong in the dark depths of Yokohama- instead, it belonged to a goddess that was too good for this world. A goddess that clearly deserved to call Nakahara Chuuya hers. Just seeing that smile made you feel infinitely more guilty about the nasty thoughts you had about her each night.

Yasuko's smile faded, worried that she might have overstepped your boundaries due to your silence.

"S-sorry... I should've asked you beforehand if you wanted to buy matching bracelets. Please don't force yourself to buy it just to make me happy-"

You shut her up by slipping it onto your right wrist, the topaz seeming to reflect the sun's golden rays back at you. Shooting her a smile, you grasped Yasuko's hand and put the other bracelet onto her left wrist joint. It fit nicely; just like anything else that she wore.

"May our friendship last until death do us part." It was a pact that you had sworn with Chuuya before. And you always kept your word, never breaking a promise to someone no matter how bizarre or extreme it was.

How unfortunate, really, that death did you apart too early.

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