#i think that’s really all i need and then i’ll feel better and be able to live yknow

[strwberri-milk]

Songs of Sorrow - Ch. 15

Rancher!AU || Boothill x Fem!Reader || Slowburn, Drama

You wake up in soft sheets, feeling significantly dryer and cleaner than you know you should. You start to sit up, startled by the feeling of an arm on your hip pulling you back in. You make to scream, fully intending to escape when you realise that it’s Boothill laying with you, shirtless. Now you want to scream for a different reason, body warm with a blush. 

“You’re finally awake. Good. Now stay in bed until I can be sure your temperature is regular. I had to wrestle you out of your clothes and then into bed.” 

You peer down and sure enough you’re wearing different clothes than the one you left in, slowly realising that he had fully stripped you down. You cover your body as though that’d change anything, Boothill’s face reddening a little as he turns his face away from you. 

“I didn’t stare or nothin’. I just didn’t want your symptoms to get worse by being left in cold clothes. I couldn’t wash you proper either - you can take a bath when you’re feelin’ better. I just got a lukewarm towel to wash the grime off your body so you could be a little more comfortable in bed.” 

His explanation speeds up at the end and you get the sense that he’s trying to justify his actions towards you. You trust him, thankfully, but that still doesn’t explain why he’s in bed with you. 

“Then this is part of my treatment?” you ask him, pointing between the two of you. 

“Body heat is a good source of heat. I’m sweatin’ my balls off but if that means your body is gettin’ warmer that’s all that matters,” he laughs.  

You shift around curiously, glad to brush up against the loose flannel of his pyjama pants. Without thinking you brush up against him closer, just chasing his warmth. He wraps his arms around your waist as you come closer to him. Your leg wraps around his, brushing back his bangs as you admire his face up close.

Out of the corner of your eye you see a beautiful bouquet sitting on your bedside table. He watches the path your eyes take, smiling tenderly at you as you admire the petals from your spot on the bed. You feel his hand rest on your hip, offering you a soft look. 

“I gotcha some flowers,” he says quietly. “To make up for the fact that I was never able to give them to you the last night of your show.” 

“You didn’t have to do all of that,” you say quietly, resting your hand on his cheek. 

“You’re the one clinging to me right now,” he says just as softly, trying not to show you how much your touch is affecting him. 

“I've told you so many times by now. It doesn’t matter what you’re trying to tell me that I don’t need to, or that you didn’t want me to save you - I mean it when I say I’m going to protect you.” 

“But why?” you continue to insist. 

“I have money on my head and you don’t really benefit from having me live with you. If anything, all I do is put you in danger.”

“And if I didn’t care about you then you would have been turned in a long time ago.”

The words hang between the two of you, your eyes widening a little. You want to believe that he means those words in a way that makes your heart flutter. He’s always been affectionate with you so there’s no reason to think of this any differently, shaking your head as you start to turn to face away from him. 

“BoothilL, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, really. You deserve better than this. Far better than someone coming in here, taking advantage of your kindness then making you risk hypothermia by running from you.”

He laughs again, shaking his head as his eyes begin to trail the lines of your face. You hold your breath as his knuckle begins to trace the path his eyes took, pausing in your movements. 

“You think I deserve better? Well…that’s a first for me.” 

His smile fades a little. 

“I dunno if I’ll ever find better. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only thing I could ever want.”

You feel the bed shift as he slowly pulls you under him. Your hands go to rest against his chest, staring up at him breathlessly as his hand slips under your neck to cradle your head. Again, his eyes do that thing where they stare at you as though you’re the most precious thing in his world and your heart tries to tell you that there’s truth in the sweet names he calls you. 

He leans down to you, noses gently brushing as his eyes drift down to your lips. 

“I’ve never really wanted anything for the last little while. Tends to happen when you lose everything you care about in an instant.”

“Boothill I -” 

“Hush pretty. Just let me think about what I’m tryna tell you. I’m not any good with words.” 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, messing with the hair on the nape of his neck. It seems to disarm him in some way, his muscles relaxing with your touch. He still seems more focused on your lips than anything else, gasping softly when your lips part wordlessly. 

A quick look of deliberation crosses his face before he presses his lips to yours. They’re rough, strong, just like him but the press of them is so gentle it makes your mind spin. You make a soft noise of surprise when he pulls back far too quickly. His touch sends chills through your body, every cell in your body tuned to him.

“I know I ain’t nothin’ but an ex-convict who shouldn’t even be dirtyin’ your hands with me but just know I’d give you everything if you just gave me the chance,” he says softly, pressing your foreheads together. 

“Boothill, what are you saying?” 

You can’t imagine Boothill being a criminal on the run, that confession somehow sidelining the very real confession of his feelings that he gave you. Somehow, he picks up on the fact that that’s what you’re referring to, sitting up a little to create distance between you two. 

“I’m not a good person,” he says softly. 

“I was a bounty hunter. A damn good one at that. Was the only way I knew to make money after an accident took out…everything.” 

You bite back the question burning on the tip of your tongue, knowing that prying too much into his past might scare him off and you’d hate to lose him now that you’ve got him so close. 

“You’re the one who deserves so much better than me. I don’t…I shouldn’t even be touching you like this.”

He starts to climb off of you. You start to panic, realising that you might actually lose him if you don’t make a move. Your arms wrap around his shoulders again, tugging him back down close enough for your breaths to intermingle.

“No…wait…I’m still cold.”

Your hands cup his cheeks as you lean in to kiss him harder. His hands come back to your body, holding your hips in place as he comes back to straddle you. The weight of his body is so comforting to you, feeling your core light up as he warms you up with the heat of his passion. 

“Wait, darlin’, shouldn’t we slow down?” he asks breathlessly, desperation in his eyes despite his words. 

“Why would we? You told me you were lying here to warm me up. I’m simply asking you for more of your medical attention,” you mutter, winding your fingers through his hair as you pull him back down for a needy kiss. 

His hands are gentle as they begin to roam your body, tentatively mapping out the contours of your shape. You’re forced to pull back from the lack of air, biting your lip as Boothill starts to trail his kisses down your lips to your chest. Your mind starts to spin as he showers you in attention, body heating up. You don’t even feel the chill of the air anymore now that you’re quickly being buried by the weight of his body. 

“I mean it darlin’,” he says again, a pleading look in his eyes despite the fact that he’s trying to stop himself. 

“You shouldn’t…we…I mean…do you really want this?”

“Am I not supposed to?” you ask quietly, teasing the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I want you. However that looks to you, I want it. Please.”

Your voice cracks on the last word, not realising until right now how badly you needed him. You think your desire pales his in comparison as you whimper for his attention, pulling him back down to kiss him again. His hands start to trail up your shirt, large palms gently ghosting over your chest as his thumbs gently brush against your nipples. It makes you gasp sharply, biting his lip in surprise from the sensation. 

“You’re so sensitive,” he laughs against your lips, looking at you darkly. 

“Are you gonna make sweet noises like that the entire time? How am I gonna hold myself from destroying you?” 

“Maybe don’t hold back then,” you sigh, arching into his chest as he continues to tease your nipples with the rough pads of his thumb.

“What if…I want you to ruin me?” 

A low moan slips past your lips as he brings his hand down to cup you. You buck against his hand, clit hitting against the heel of his palm. The teasing sensation makes you clench slightly over nothing. His finger teases against your slit, running along your pussy. 

“You can’t say somethin’ like that. It’ll really get me goin’.” 

He continues to kiss you dumb as his fingers continue to tease you. Instinctively, you spread your legs to accommodate his body. It makes it easier for him to rub against you, hips bucking against his palm as he slowly slips his fingers inside of you. The moan that you give him is music to his ears, Boothill’s heart pounding in his chest. 

His fingers move sensually against you, each stroke drawing out another sweet noise of pleasure. He’s surprisingly gentler than you expected him to be, trying to focus on the way he looks at you but inadvertently giving him the most adorable blissed out look. Nothing he conjured up in his imagination could top this and he’s doing his best to restrain the urge to just hold you in place and have his way with you. 

You can feel the insistent press of his cock against your thigh, mind running wild as you imagine what it’d feel like to have him inside of you. He shudders lowly as you move against him, writhing as he feels your wetness start to coat his fingers. Your breath comes in short gasps, Boothill nuzzling against your throat as he gently coos at you. 

“You’re close, huh? Just keep goin’ doll - let go for me, I know you want to.” 

Your nails dig lightly into his shoulders as your hips continue to buck into him, moaning his name softly as your orgasm slowly washes over you. He looks up at you from his spot against your neck, gently bringing his kisses back up to your lips as he steals the breath out of your lungs. You feel him push your shorts off of you, laughing softly. 

“I thought I needed to stay warm. What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly, shuddering a little at the chill in the room against your bare skin. 

“Making you warm,” he growls before pressing a hungry kiss against your throat.  

You feel him lift your thighs to rest against his waist, pulling his pants down just enough to let his cock slap against his stomach. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, drops of precum sliding down the flushed tip as he leans over your body once again. He takes your hands in his, pinning them on the pillow over your head as he grinds lightly against you. 

“One more time. You’re okay with all of this, right?” he asks gently, slowly bringing his hand back down to guide his cock against your slit. 

You nod eagerly, bringing your free hand against his hip to press him further against you. He laughs at the action, brushing your noses together as he slides inside of you. The gasp you reward him with makes his cock twitch, watching your reaction carefully as he brings your hand back up to join the other. 

You squeeze his hands tightly as the press of him inside of you makes you melt. Just the tip feels like a little too much, eyes screwing shut in a pleasurable haze. You’re about to say something when he kisses you gently. It makes your heart burst and distracts you just enough for the next gentle rock of his hips to press him fully inside of you. He slowly bottoms out, slotting your hips together and gauging your pleasure by how tightly you squeeze his hands. 

“Oh God, Boothill,” you mutter under your breath when he reaches your pelvis, throwing your head back as he starts to slowly rock against you. 

“You’re beautiful like this,” he says dazedly, focused on the way you feel pulsing around his cock. 

“Don’t say stuff like that it’ll make me-” 

Your words are cut off as he picks up his pace, already having felt the way you clenched again at the sweet comment he gave you. You’re not ready for him to lean down against you, mouth right up against your ear as he starts to whisper sweet nothings. 

They all go straight to your core, feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter around him as his cock hits all the right spots inside of you. Your eyes screw shut as you continue to whimper and moan his name, your noises drowned out by the slightly rougher pace he starts to take. 

“I’m sorry my love. I just - I can’t hold back anymore,” he grunts, letting go of your hands to bring them down to your hips. 

He holds you in place as his pace has you seeing stars, letting your nails dig down the expanse of his broad back as you feel another climax beginning to crest. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist as you call out for him one final time. The feeling of your orgasm has Boothill cumming as well, pulling out as he spills against your stomach with quick jerks of his hand to the sight of your writhing. 

You stare up at him, face warm with arousal and satisfaction as you catch your breath. He stares down at you looking equally as devoted as he presses his hand against your forehead. 

“Well if that doesn’t make you warm enough I don’t know what else to do.”

[toydreamer]

Gotten some bad news that I kinda knew for a long time coming but jus not expecting it to arrive this quickly.. and honestly idk how to deal with it rn.

Brain’s jus coming up blank and not computing. Can’t tell if it’s a state of shock or grief or both or something else, feels like I’ll need a while to resume normality or at least sort out where my thoughts are gonna go. Jus wanna ramble and throw out all these thoughts, feels better that I write them out somewhere.

Highly tempted to box it all up and throw them out of sight out of mind. Not denying the facts, just accepting things for what it is because fate has been sealed from the day the diagnosis came out (Not me but yes it’s a family member)

And everyone jus agrees that it’s best to live things out day by day. Future seems like a far-fetched mystical concept these days. I guess we’ll get there when we get there. Future me will eventually have to suck it up and deal with things like an unwilling adult.

Physically still functioning as per usual because life’s gotta go on right? Despite everything else and time isn’t gonna give me an ounce of mercy by standing still nor is it gonna wait for me.

Feels like I really need an outlet for copium right now for the blanket of comfort and normalcy while we can only crossed all our fingers and toes, hoping for the best even if the best option right now is to be able to buy more time. Frankly, I’m not very optimistic about the outcome but I’ll still hope and pray for some sort of miracle that we’re blessed with more time.

As of right now, might take a small break to seek shelter in my next piece, thinking about my OCs since they’re kinda my babies and comfort zone.

No clue what I wanna make except I want to make and hopefully be able to get everything off my chest by mindlessly creating, letting it take a form of its own.

Been a tiring day/week overall. Funny how a piece of news like this could jus ruined things in a quick second and the only choice left is to accept things for what it is and the courage to take baby steps forward.

Also this quote couldn’t have come at a better time

[iichfilwypj]

heroes | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: :) ღ wc: 692 pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

The days that followed were awkward. The trip back to camp was awkward. They didn’t look at each other, didn’t speak. They couldn’t be in the same room for more than two minutes without her wanting to escape.

And it was entirely her fault.

She stepped into her cabin, wanting to fall into bed and sleep until the next day. Or, better yet, the day after –perhaps then she'd recover the naps she hadn’t been able to take. 

But, to her surprise, she wasn’t alone. 

There he was, lying on her bed. She could see he was in his pajamas, his hair messy and breathing so slowly it almost felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. He seemed so at ease, so peaceful, so much like before.

She could only snap.

Tears welled up before she could hold them back, flowing faster and stronger than ever. Each drop hit the floor like a moment they might have shared, a word they could have said. 

Her sobs must have roused the boy, who sat up in bed, a sleepy expression on his face as he stared at her. Her vision was too blurry and weak to see him clearly, but he appeared to be just as heartbroken as she was. 

“I- I am so sorry” Her words were shaky and barely coherent, but the boy understood them perfectly. He was sorry too. 

She wanted a hug, sweet words, for him to wipe her tears away. Percy stayed where he was, trying to give her space. 

"I fucked up everything. I was afraid when I realized how much I love you, and how much I need you, and I didn’t know what to do." The tears kept flowing as she uttered the only words she didn’t want to say. “We can't be together, Percy”

He was furious, frustrated, mad. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to push her away or pull her into his arms, whether he wanted to never speak to her again or kiss every inch of her body. 

And though he wished things could go back to when she was just his best friend, the one sleeping beside him all day and unaware of his (and her own) feelings, he knew he had to give it another try.

“Why not?” he dared to say, without taking her eyes off her trembling figure. "What makes you think that?"

“I’ll be mean, and you’ll get tired of me” No. Percy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Getting tired of her? 

Without her, something was missing, something was off. 

He made his way toward her carefully, checking if she was okay with it. His hands traced her face, and he smiled without thinking as he felt her skin after so long. 

“You know that is not true. None of that bullshit it's true" She shook her head, and he nodded. She pouted, and he smiled. “We love each other, and that's a fact.”

“Nothing would keep us together” she knew he understood; the others, their stupid opinions, her own insecurities…

But was she being honest with herself? Was she really unwilling to give everything she had to spend the rest of her days with him?

“I don’t believe that. We can try”

He didn't release her face as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“We could steal time.” 

A kiss on her cheek.

“Just for one day.” 

A kiss on her other cheek.

“Please.”

Their noses brushed together, their breaths merged, and their bodies inched closer without even trying.

Their lips were so, so near. 

And she nodded. Because she depended on him, she adored him, she hungered for him. She ached for him. Her body yearned and craved for his company, his hugs, his kisses, his touch. 

She wanted him. 

Without a second thought, their lips met in a soft, warm kiss. His hands pulled her closer as her fingers tangled in his hair. The world around them seemed to freeze, granting them more time, more peace. 

And the kiss became desperate, raw, and yet somehow full of sweetness.

Every part of them connecting, as if they were finally where they belonged.

heroes >>>>> any other song IT FINALLY HAPPENED AAA I COULND' STAND WIRITING MORE ANGST maybe it's rushed because i NEEDED them to kiss but i don't care

[uceyliyahh]

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4605

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi

6.

JEY I was in the garage at home doing my workouts for this upcoming PPV that is happening this weekend. Jon and I got a tag team title defense against the New Day during that time, so I had to be prepared for it.

I hope Yasmine will be able to debut around this weekend during the PPV because I heard that someone would be making their long-awaited debut for a title-shot match against Liv Morgan.

As I was doing my bench press reps, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, which made me put a pause on my workout. I grabbed it from my pocket,  seeing that Yasmine had texted me.

Yasmine🩵 sent 2+ messages and two attachments IMESSAGE 💬 Yasmine🩵: bestie butt I miss you Yasmine🩵: it's sooo boring without you here hopefully I get to see you at work. Yasmine🩵:

'I felt myself getting hard at these pictures she just sent me damn she looked so fucking cute.'

Joshua🤍: Yasmine you're really testing it right now. Yasmine🩵: whaaaaaat? All I did was send some pictures 🙄 Joshua🤍: yeah, they're cute but that's not the problem minks. Yasmine🩵: then what's the problem? 🤨 Joshua🤍: Yasmine stop playin dumb with me Yasmine🩵: these pictures are getting you hard right now? Joshua🤍: bingo I feel like you sent them on purpose Yasmine🩵: maybe....maybe not🙂🤭 Joshua🤍: you wanna keep playin? Yasmine🩵: what? Ion' know what you're talking about Bestie Joshua🤍: A'ight bet since you wanna act dumb and keep playin I got'chu later on Yasmine🩵: wait Josh I was kidding Yasmine🩵: JOSHUA!! 🥲🥲

I chuckled as I left her on read, staring down at my hardened member and then back at her photos. Her images made me want to pound my dick in so badly. After putting away all of my exercise gear and heading upstairs to my bedroom, I lay down on my bed and took down my shorts, watching my dick pop up and land on my stomach as I started to stroke it up and down while daydreaming about her.

MINI SMUT WARNING

While I kept my eyes closed, I was groaning Yasmine's name and imagining how wonderful it would feel to be within her at that moment. I was going crazy thinking about her in this way, especially when I had wet dreams about it. My legs were squeezing together, and I could picture her bouncing up and down on my dick while groaning my name. I could feel my breath becoming unsteady as I continued to stroke my dick up and down.

"Fuck...Yasmine...Fuck.." I moaned softly as I kept stroking it in a steady pace.

I was rolling my eyes in the back of my head yearning for more of her, her touch, her rubbing all up on me. I instantly grabbed my phone and started to record a video of myself stroking my dick up and down so I could send it to her.

I kept stroking the tip feeling myself edging on as I continued to moan her name, I just couldn't wait to be all up in that whenever I get a chance.

"Ouuuu fuck mama..." thinking about beating her shit in while pulling on her hair choking her as I pushed my dick deeply inside of her wanting her to feel every single inch of me.

I clenched my legs some more feeling sweat coming down my cheeks with my face being all flushed. I felt myself shaking as I sped up the pace a little bit more.

My mouth was parted opened as I felt myself getting close to my climax as my dick twitched in my hands.

I kept imagining Yasmine stroking it for me swirling her tongue around my tip before going down on me while my tip was hitting the back of her throat gagging on it.

"Fuck, I'm finna nut fuck.." I moaned.

I chuckled as I let out a satisfying sigh and saw my nut trickling from my hand as I gently stroked the remaining portion out, cursing under my breath after a few more strokes.

MINI SMUT OVER.

I used my available hand to stop the video recording as my chest was heaving up and down. Getting up from the bed, I went towards my bathroom and took a shower.

'Damn that shit felt so good.'

✧˚° YASMINE I was at the performance center today in the ring practicing with Bianca for my debut this weekend at Crown Jewel. Nobody knew but the girls. I was so nervous and happy that I was finally debuting at my first-ever PPV.

I was on top of the turnbuckle doing my finisher move on Bianca, landing on her stomach and hearing her groan in pain at the feeling. That's when I pinned her shoulders down, counting in my head.

I let go of her leg as I felt my face flushed. My chest was heaving up and down, getting up from the ring, and I placed my hands on my hips as Bianca did the same.

"Damn girl you're really good." Bianca said.

"Man I know I believe what Shawn Michael's was saying that I'll be the next star in this company." I said wiping the sweat off of my forehead.

"I see the vision of you being a champion girl and when you do you better give me the opportunity." I nodded my head chuckling at her letting her know that I'll make sure to give her a title shot.

I went to grab my phone as I saw that Jey had sent me a video. When I went to go open it, my eyes went wide as I saw him stroking his dick up and down, hearing him moaning my name.

I made sure to put my AirPods in so I could listen to it more clearly; as I predicted it his dick was big as fuck and now I gotta wait until later to see what the fuck was he talking about earlier when I sent those pictures.

After watching the video, seeing his nut spilling out from the tip and dripping down on his hands, it just made my body feel warm and fuzzy seeing that he's thinking about me.

I turned the phone off, hearing Bianca's footsteps coming behind me. "Are you ready, girl? Let's go see what your gear is looking like." I nodded my head while grabbing our bags and our water.

✧˚° After Bianca and I checked out my ring attire for Crown Jewel, all I can say is that it looked good, like really good. We were at the catering area, seeing Trinity and Jonathan sitting there at our table eating.

We walked up with our plates as they both looked at us and smiled I tried to scan the area to find Jey but he was nowhere to be found so I just shrugged it off.

Trinity and Them didn't know about my debut match for the weekend because it had to be a secret that would surprise everyone, including the crowds.

"Trinity have you seen my bestie?" I asked.

"I think he's in him and Jon's locker room right now I don't know why?" She said while stuffing her face with food.

"I just wanted to know that's all I was hoping to see him today." Trinity nodded her head as we all continued to eat our foods together. Meanwhile, I felt my phone buzz. When I pulled it out, I saw that Jey had texted me.

Joshua🤍 sent a message IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua🤍: come holla at me for a minute when you get done minks.

I was nervous, to say the least. I didn't know what he had planned, and when I went towards his locker room, all I could think about was what he had said earlier before we came into work.

After I finished eating my food, I got up from the table and went towards the trashcan, throwing away my plate in the process, before heading towards his locker room.

Meanwhile, I heard someone behind me calling my name. I could recognize that voice from a mile away. When I turned around, I saw Carmelo standing there with his arms crossed.

"What Melo?" I asked giving him a stern expression.

"What the fuck is goin on between you and Jey? I saw what you posted on your page talking about a favorite person; it better be me." He said sternly as I smacked my teeth because I didn't have time for this shit right now.

"Melo? Can we not be delusional for once, like seriously, you knew who I was referring to." I was beginning to walk away until I felt him grabbing me by the wrist which made me turn around a smack the fuck out of him.

By this point, I was getting sick of him snatching me up like I was some kind of fucking Barbie doll or something. I watched as he staggered back, clutching his cheek in disbelief. Carmelo was stunned when I turned to leave for Jey's locker room when I approached his locker room I knocked on the door like usual waiting for him to open it.

When I heard his footsteps approaching the door, I heard him opening the door, and I saw myself standing there, looking all innocent. I gazed up at him, smiling.

He let me in, closing the door behind us. I wrapped my arms around his neck while he wrapped his around my waist, and we made eye contact.

"I missed you bestie butt." I said.

"I missed you too mamas." Jey said as he gave me a peck on the lips.

Hoping that he would forget what he had said earlier, I unwrapped my arms around his neck before walking away to sit down on the couch. That's when I felt him pull me back into his arms, scooping me up by the thighs.

Now I was straddling his lap like I was one week ago. He placed his lips onto mine as we passionately made out with each other. Our tongues were fighting for dominance, knowing he had won that fight, feeling him rubbing his hands all over my body.

Next thing I knew, our clothes were on the floor as the cold breeze hit our bodies. It was like we had lost control in the moment, feeling my body grinding on his hardened dick.

Hearing him hiss at the feeling, we stopped what we were doing as we looked at each other, I couldn't wait any longer for this begging him with my eyes just to fuck me right there.

"We don't have to do this mama, ion want you to feel uncomfortable or being forced." Jey said trying to read my facial expressions.

I shook my head, "I want too Josh...I wanna do this...I trust you..." I was shocked at myself for even saying this despite my trust issues but with Jey it felt so different he's been my peacemaker.

SMUT WARNING He kissed me on the lips, trailing them down onto my neck and giving me wet kisses as I threw my head back in pleasure, letting him do whatever he wanted to do to me.

He was sucking on my neck like a vampire that needed blood supply as he marked me up good, at this point we reached our limit knowing that we both wanted more from each other and not just some kissing and teasing each other.

I felt him rubbing my soaking folds against his tip as I sat down on it, letting his dick fill me up well as I gasped, knowing that he was finna be all in my shit. He pulled me closer to his body and held onto me tightly, giving me nothing but sweet kisses on the cheek.

"You goin' to ride this dick fo' me baby?" He said in a low tone that gave me shivers I nodded my head, looking into his eyes

I slowly moved my ass up and down on his dick, trying to adjust to his size, feeling his hands guiding my hips to my movements. I never felt so full before, especially when I was with Carmelo again. Something about Jey is different.

I had my eyes rolling in the back of my head as Jey watched me bounce all up on his dick I could see him having his bottom lip tucked underneath his teeth.

"Damn, mama...this some good ass pussy.." Jey Groaned as I sped up my pace a little bit.

I saw him throwing his head back as he continued to watch me become a moaning mess for him and only him.

"F-fuckk Josh..." I moaned breathlessly maintaining eye contact with him as I bit the bottom of my lip.

"You so fucking pretty baby, taking papi's dick so well." He was a much better talker than melo was it just turned me on even more. We stopped in our tracks as we heard the door knocking as me and him looked at each other.

But then I felt him thrust his hips upward, causing me to gasp while he covered my mouth, continually thrusting his hips so deep inside of me.

"Yo Uce! we gotta do this segment in like 20 minutes!" Jon said.

"Shit...A'ight then uce I'll be out there in a few!" Jey managed to speak as he pounded into my wet cunt. He looked dead into my eyes, giving me a warning.

At the point, his dick felt like it was all in my guts as I let him take control of the situation, feeling pull my face closer to his as we passionately kissed.

"Ouuu papi...you're so deep. " He liked the way I sounded, and I practically begged him for more—more of him calling out his name.

"Yeah? Keep bouncing on it then mama, make me nut." I did what I was told to do and went back to bouncing on his dick on the couch.

I felt my walls gripping onto him, hearing him cursing under his breath, spanking my ass in the process, getting a handful of it.

I felt a pit going down my stomach, knowing that I was going to be coating my cream all over him as we continued to tongue kiss each other.

His hands were guiding my hips to speed up the pace a little more as skins were slapping against each other, which sounded out the entire room. I could feel his tip hitting my cervix driving me crazy.

He was so deep inside of me it had me seeing stars knowing that this man drives me crazy. I could feel myself coming closer to my orgasm.

That's when I felt him get up flipping us over, now my back was on the couch while my legs were pinned to my sides as he began drilling my shit.

I couldn't handle it anymore as I tried to push him by his stomach but he slapped my hand away fucking vigorously. "J-Joshhhhuaa oh my godddd." I moaned his full name rolling my eyes in the back of my head.

"Mhm...give me this shit mama...cum all over this dick..." He grunted firmly grabbing me by the throat not wanting to hurt me.

The air was thickening with our breathing and sweating making it feel hot inside the locker room. Jey circled his hips hitting my spot over and over again as I felt defeated by him.

Our foreheads were touching each other staring into each other's eyes deeply as he pecked me on the lips letting me to relax and that he got me.

"Uhnnn Josh I-I'm finna C-cum..!" I mewled weakly feelin' tired and overwhelmed.

I heard him whispering something in my ear that made me came all over this man, "C'mon cum fo' papi baby...daddy's got'chu pretty mamas." I felt my legs shaking as I let out a gasp cumming all over him rolling my eyes deeply in the back of my head while he was watching too.

My entire body quivered underneath him as I saw my cream coat his dick so well while he continued to beat my shit in.

I felt so overwhelmed that I had tears running down my face due to me being sensitive around my area, using my hand to push him away, but that just made things worse.

He kept my legs over his shoulders, pounding into me so deeply to the point where I couldn't even look him in the eyes anymore, covering my face in the process.

"Move yo' damn arm away from yo' face minks lemme' see how good I'm fucking you." He demanded as he removed my arm away from my face.

He liked the way I was looking so miserable underneath him, holding onto the couch for dear life and feeling his dick twitch inside of me.

His movements became slower and sloppier with every single thrust he gave me; he wanted me to feel every inch.

"Fuck minks I'm finna nut..." Jey placed a soft kiss on my lips as he moved his hips deeper into my gushy insides.

After a few more thrusts, Jey pulled out of me, letting out a satisfying groan escaping his lips while he came all over my stomach, stroking the rest of his nut out.

'This is some of best sex I ever had.'

SMUT OVER.

I was panting heavily as my chest was heaving up and down; my legs felt like jello shaking violently. Jey had taken notice of that and began massaging my thighs, planting kisses over them.

He grabbed a napkin so he could wipe his nut off of my stomach, after he did that we began putting on our clothes as I attempted to walk towards the mirror fixing my hair hiding my hickies in the process behind my hair.

My legs felt so weak I could barely stand, 'damn, this nigga fuck me good way to good.' He walked up behind me wrapping his arms around my waist placing a kiss on my cheek as we looked at each other in the mirror.

"You good minks?" Jey asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine my legs just feel like jello now because of you sir." I said rolling my eyes at him as I heard him chuckling softly.

"My fault mamas, you just felt so good I couldn't help it." I punched him in his chest before placing a kiss on his lips.

He pulled away from me, grabbing his phone and checking the time he had to leave for this segment before Jon starts to get pissed like a little ass kid. With that he gave one final kiss before heading out to meet with Jon.

Meanwhile, I saw my phone light up as I saw that Bianca had texted me.

Breezy🫶🏽 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Breezy🫶🏽: Yasmine wya? Breezy🫶🏽: oh never mind you with Joshua?

I just chuckled at the messages and began texting her back.

Minnie🧃: yeah, I was spending time with Josh Breezy🫶🏽: girl what was yall doing in there?😭 Minnie🧃: well see about that😭😭 Breezy🫶🏽: OMG BITCH YALL TWO IS NASTY Minnie🧃: we couldn't control ourselves okay😭 this is what we wanted Breezy🫶🏽: I understand girl completely but hurry up before Montez get back in here Minnie🧃: I'm otw now 😭

I made sure that I've gotten everything before leaving towards Montez's locker room, while walking down the hallway I ran into him yet again but this time I just ignored his ass not wanting to hear what he has to say.

As I made it towards my brother's locker room, I opened the door and saw Trinity and Bianca sitting on the couch like always. They both looked at me, darting their eyes behind me.

When I turned around, I saw Carmelo standing behind me, which made me jump a little bit before I turned around and sighed deeply.

"Melo what the fuck." I said.

His eyes darted towards my neck seeing all of my purple hickies on my neck that Jey had applied on me I could read his facial expressions and he looked pretty pissed.

He moved my hair to the side, getting a better view of the hickeys on my neck, "Yasmine, why the fuck are there hickeys on your neck?" I rolled my eyes at him, folding my arms in the process.

"Why does it matter? Get it through your head, Melo. We are not together." Carmelo tried to grab me by the arm, but Trinity came just in time to stop him, slapping him in the face and causing him to stumble backward while shutting the door in his face.

I sat down on the couch, rubbing my temple, feeling frustrated with all of this. The girls could see how stressed I was.

"Girl, you gotta get a restraining order on him or something or he'll just keep harassing you." Bianca said.

I nodded my head agreeing with them I had to do something or this will get worst.

✧˚° OMNISCIENT After work, Yasmine decided to go home and chill for the rest of the day since her body was sore and still recovering from the session she and Jey had earlier today.

When she pulled up in the driveway, she turned off the ignition switch in her car, grabbed her keys and bags from the backseat, and exited the car.

She had thought about what Bianca had said about getting a restraining order against Carmelo. It would probably finally give her some piece of mind if he stayed away from her, and if he went against it, he could go to jail.

It made her smile to think about him being in jail and away from her, especially since she and Jey have been getting close.

She unlocked the door, wiping her feet on the mat before coming inside. She held onto the wall, taking off her shoes and placing them on the rack.

Meanwhile, she sat down on the couch, sighing in relief, feeling her phone vibrate and seeing an unknown number calling her.

OTP Yasmine: hello? Unknown number: Hey minks Yasmine: who the fuck is this? Unknown number: girl it's Trick damn did you forget me already Yasmine: Nigga how did you get my number? Ion want nun to do with you Unknown number: c'mon you know what you told me wasn't true he didn't do that Yasmine: Trick fuck you like honestly your own best friend literally fucking raped me in my locker room and choke me the fuck out and you wanna call up my phone saying that I'm making it up? Unknown number: Minks c'mon now Yasmine: don't fucking call my number again Unknown number: Minks—

CALLED ENDED

Yasmine felt her cheeks getting wet as she wiped her tears away. She couldn't believe that this man didn't believe her and believed that she had made this all up just to ruin Carmelo's reputation.

She blocked Trick's TextNow number while bawling her eyes out on the couch, she had flashbacks of what had happened that day it always give her nightmares at night that's why she always wanted Jey to stay with her because he was her comfort person.

Yasmine wiped the rest of her tears away as she texted Trinity.

IMESSAGE 💬 Minnie🧃: hey, Trin? Trin🤭🫶🏽: yeah, girl what's up? Minnie🧃: is Joshua with yall? Trin🤭🫶🏽: no, him and Jon went out for drinks with the guys why what's wrong? Minnie🧃: sigh, I'm having a mental breakdown right now and I just need him here but ion' wanna be a burden if he's with the guys Trin🤭🫶🏽: hey! Don't say that about yourself you're not a burden to nobody not even Joshua Minnie🧃: I'm trying to calm myself down I can't believe that this man thinks I made it all up Trin🤭🫶🏽: who Trick? He called you? How? Minnie🧃: from a TextNow number Trin🤭🫶🏽: omg he's so weird for that honestly but let me see what time they're coming back okay? Minnie🧃: kk thank you Trin Trin🤭🫶🏽: ofccc I'll do anything for you

After she texted Trin, she went upstairs and went towards her bedroom, not knowing when Bianca and Montez were coming home. She lay down in her bed, curled up in a ball.

She didn't feel safe at work with Carmelo walking around, even though she had protection. She believed that her protection wouldn't help as much since they wouldn't really be around.

She again felt tears running down her face, hoping that Jey would come and comfort her, but she was also scared, wondering if she was pushing him away or scaring him off with her issues.

Wondering if she was enough for him in his eyes, Yasmine wiped her tears away, seeing her phone light up as she saw a text from Jey.

Joshua🤍 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua🤍: hey, mama Trin had texted me saying that you were looking for me Joshua🤍: you okay?

She smiled at the messages but it went away due to her overthinking about what she had thought about.

Yasmine🩵: yeah, I'm okay bestie Joshua🤍: you don't have to hide it from me minks Yasmine🩵: I-I'm not hiding anything... Joshua🤍: Yasmine don't be doing that what's wrong? Yasmine🩵: it's nothing ion' wanna be a burden I'll see you tmr Josh goodnight Joshua🤍: Minks

Yasmine turned off her phone while getting up from her bed and going towards her dresser. She took off her clothes and threw them in the dirty bin right next to her dresser.

She heard her phone going off knowing that Jey was calling her but she didn't want to answer it ignoring her phone ringing, since she already took a shower at work she changed into something comfortable while getting inside her warm blankets.

In the dark, she tossed and turned, not feeling comfortable. Her bed felt empty without Jey cuddling her. She saw a car light approaching the house, probably thinking that it was Montez and Bianca coming home, but she heard the door knocking, which is something that they don't do when they have a key.

She got up from her bed walked downstairs towards the front door, opened the door seeing the person that she wanted to see and be with.

He looked good wearing all black along with his gold chain and white Air Forces including his piercings that hang from his ears.

He had his arms folded over his chest as she let him in before shutting the door behind him, standing there like a little kid.

Her eyes watched him sit down on the couch, curling up his finger in the process as she walked up towards him, going between his legs.

"C'mere Yasmine." Jey spoken.

She looked down at her feet, fiddling with her fingers, as he pulled her onto his lap, grabbing her chin and making her look at him.

Jey noticed that she had been crying, showing concern in his eyes. "Talk to me, mama. What was all of that about?" Yasmine opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

She sighed, knowing that she wasn't going to get away from this, so she explained what had happened and why she was acting like that, expressing herself that she didn't want to be a burden or worried that she was scaring him away with her issues, wondering if she was enough.

Hearing her vent and let out her feelings just broke his heart. Listening to this, he knew that he loved her deeply; she just didn't even know it.

"Minks, you're more than enough for me. You aren't a burden, mama. Don't ever say that." He reassured her while placing a kiss on her shoulder.

"I'm here for you, mama. You don't have to be afraid to tell me things." Yasmine nodded her head while lying down on his chest.

She knew that Jey was her true comfort person, her peacemaker, and she felt a sense of relief that Jey wasn't going to leave her or judge her for what she had gone through.

Yasmine knew that she would be loved by him.

Something Bout' Us.

A/n: I honestly understand Yasmine completely I know Jey is going to love her downnnn but Trick ass just a damn disgrace like how can you believe your best friend's lies over Yasmine? When you wasn't even there?

Idkk but he's pissing me off honestly.

But I hope yall enjoy the chapter lmk in the comments below.

Stay Ucey.

[disco-tea]

.

[trashbaget]

i need a fucking hug!!!!!!

[szczylpierdolony]

maybe the psych ward thing wasn’t a bad idea

[alexsyndrome]

I’ve been wanting to get into perfume lately but have absolutely 0 knowledge or like concepts of smells LOL I’m very picky about it too. I don’t want to smell like someone’s grandma or that strong chemical scent many perfumes give off 🤮🤢 I know that must sound so childish. But I’ve been researching scents trying to find some I may like!! I think from now on, I’m going to pick a couple to seek out & smell when I go to the mall on the weekends. I’m def going to start with the Elizabeth Arden green tea spray this weekend when I go. Maybe today I will research a couple more to find, as well. 💖

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, captive reader, omegaverse, forced bonding is implied, subjugation, some type of sexism, soft dom, but extremely patronizing

♡ fem reader

You offer to go down on him for the first time since he claimed you for himself, and his heart swells with all sorts of bliss—shock and awe, love and pride—utterly overjoyed at the pretty sight of you, so pliant and on your knees, acting like a proper Omega for a change—his cutest little mate. It’s so adorable he ought to take pictures, yet he doesn’t want to miss a thing or spoil the mood—after all, you always get so embarrassed when he brings the camera out.

So he settles for just watching—his adoring eyes resting on you, admiring how you struggle to fit all of him inside your mouth, thinking it’s the just cutest and sweetest how you try so hard for him. Bless whatever brought this new change of behavior on. He can’t be grateful enough.

It was only a couple of days ago when you’d still bite and claw and run away from him at every turn, growling and snarling like a rabid wildling and not the sweet Omega he knew you could be with the proper love and care. Maybe it’s just that—has his love for you finally tamed you? Oh, he couldn’t be more pleased if that’s it.

Look at you… trying your very best. He didn’t mind if you could only fit half of him—just seeing you try to take it all made him more than happy. The way your pink tongue slides along his veins—all teasingly and ticklish—makes him smile while looking down at you. Petting your head in smooth, encouraging strokes—reminding you to breathe every now and again.

He even pinches your cheek when you cough, crooning, “Careful now, there’s no need to rush, baby—take it slow.”

You curse him from where you kneel at his feet, trying to get it over with quickly. Despite your struggles, he seems pleased, and you think you might have managed to get yourself off the hook. That is… until he wraps his cock with one of his big hands and pulls it away from you. 

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says in his best attempt at sounding suave by nature, and yet, as you look up at him, you see it plain as day.

It makes your guts fold—the eagerness that encompasses him as he looks down at you with kind eyes and a smile—not completely able to hide the frenzy behind it.

No, please, you sulk inwardly—your clit is so sensitive from yesterday, you think you might die if he toys with it again today. You almost indulge the urge to scoot back, attempt to crawl away, and hide in false hope. But you know, chasing you around would just serve as kindling to his inner animal—he would take it as a game, hunting and pinning you down only to lick you clean like a dug-up bone.

You shudder at the thought and almost beg him to allow you to continue, almost insist you can do better, but all you manage is to bite your tongue and cry instead.

“You did so good, baby, don’t pout,” he coos, cradling your face and lifting it up to let him kiss it silly—chastely yet excessively—quick pecks all over, the same way you’d kiss something that’s just too cute for its own good.

It’s his way of comforting you, you suppose, or it might just be him poking fun. You can never really tell with him—if his coddling is all some act or something even more unsettling. But you suppose it doesn’t really matter either.

“Come here, baby, and I’ll do the rest, okay?” he asks, and yet it isn’t a question as he hauls you up off the floor and repositions you as he sees fit—on your back, belly-up beneath him.

His alpha pheromones are quick to overwhelm you, thick and suffocating, pouring over you in waves, drenching you in sweat and something else—something that makes everything sensitive.

The former fight you had when you were still independent has all but left you completely—siphoned from your being every day that’s passed and left you soft like the rest of those Omegas you vowed you’d never become—weak-willed with a body even more so. You feel like a stuffed animal at this point, full of cloudy cotton with a broken voice device that only knows how to squeak when played with.

He takes you beneath the knees and folds them down neatly by your head—one large hand taking both your summoned ankles in a single grip—and you’re locked in, unable to do much else other than pant—kept from breathing too much by the weight of your own thighs pressing down on you.

This had been what you were trying to avoid—this awful position which he seems to love just as much as you dread.

He whistles in awe at the pretty sight of you—all squished beneath him like that—face flushed, and your bloated lips parted with cute little draws of breath—tits bunched together, glossed in a sheen of sweat and heaving with the labored rise and fall of your chest—and that adorable cunt, wet and puffy, swollen up like a pink pillow eagerly waiting for him, a soft bed for his cock and a perfectly bite-sized slice of his favorite cake. His gut rumbles, and his mouth soaks. To think he hasn’t had a single taste all day—he’s beyond starving.

You squirm under him, and he chuckles again, this time breathily—showing more of the unsightly animal with the low growl that seeps into his voice, “Such a pretty girl…” It’s unclear if he’s talking to you as his inkwell eyes are set on something else. He sags forward, back hunched as he bows down to face the object of his desire with only a hair’s breadth of separation—breaths thick, puffed hot against you—canines bared in an eerie smile. “So shy…”

He ignores your wiggling completely—pinching the chunk of cunt where your clit hides, making it peak forth like a little button to press, and his grin broadens.

“There it is,” he licks his teeth with a raspy sigh—eyes wide and deadset. “My beauty.”

You squirm a little more, even though you know you’re not going anywhere until he’s satisfied. He doesn’t waste much more time—not allowing you to prepare. Keeping the pinch, he opens his mouth wide and takes the chub with eyes closed, tongue flattened and wide, cloaking your exposed clit with thirst. “Mmgh…”

He always gets like this—cute-aggressive and pussy-whipped. It’s as if he and your cunt have their own private affair, the way he completely ignores you. No, that’s not entirely fair—he gets like that when feeding you his tongue as well, but you suppose it’s easier making out with your pussy as it doesn’t need to get up for air. 

Neither does he, it seems.

He groans loudly and releases your clit from his pinching grip—but keeps his whole mouth on you—lips, tongue, and all—nose and chin too, buried there while his hand moves down to slip three digits inside, filling you up with little regard to the stretch.

Your breath flares and shudders with a whimpery moan, toes curling along with his fingers, biting your lip at how he hooks them right into the soft spot of your gummy walls, then fingerbangs you fast, right down to the knuckles each time.

“Fuck, baby—so, so good, always so good,” he slurs out into you, tongue otherwise too engaged to bother sounding coherent, yet you understand nonetheless, even though you can never really get used to it—how utterly unashamed he is. “Come on, baby, cum f’mo—cum on my face—” he all but happily begs, tongue out, slurping your slit brazenly.

He’s not a very classic Alpha—how he worships you on his hands and knees with a throat full of plead and praise. He doesn’t even touch himself—cock left hung and bobbing against the bedsheets, hard and strung up with a net of veins, pilling pearls of pre that all go to waste—too busy with you. 

It’s stupid how you’re the one who ends up feeling ignored as the unwanted and overwhelming pleasure manhandles you into submission.

“Cum, baby, give it to me.”

You mewl as his tongue draws something out from within you, making your clit blare and thrum with your heartbeat. You struggle to enjoy it, you always do, feeling forced to surrender, and yet the more you try and deny it, the firmer his hold gets, relentless as he sends you right over the edge. You yelp and seize up once it takes you—clenching tightly around his digits as they unknot your insides, turning you into utter putty in his palm. 

And even then, he doesn’t stop—as if he doesn’t know how—sighing with elation as you quake on his tongue. That crooked smile on his face, nothing short of predatory and vile as he maintains the motion of his fingers, moaning in turn at your cute spasming and all the wordless babble that leaves your lips as you shake your head, crying for him to leave it alone. “Plea’ no more—stop, too much—”

He just chuckles against you—you really are too cute for your own good. Silly little Omega, don’t you know what your pheromones do to him? But okay, fine, since you asked nicely. He gives the slit one last thorough lick before wiping his smile while sitting up.

You haven’t even started coming down when he dabs the weight of his shaft upon the sensitivity, cooing at the lewd little plaps it makes, all slick as he slides the length between your flustered pussylips—fucking through the fat of the mound, running over your full clit, again and again, while listening to you squeak more nothings.

He only croons, “Yeah, I know you like that, baby—this pretty pussy of yours just loves my attention, doesn’t it?" His eyes seem to glow with something sickly, his voice thin, just shy of unhinged. "Always so cute, I could die.”

He can’t get over it—you’re too adorable like this. Watching you pleasure him was a welcome surprise, but ultimately, this is how he always wants you—flipped and pinned with your cunt exposed to his every wish—his favorite toy that never disappoints.

“Your pretty pussy’s always such a crybaby, y’know that? Look how it weeps f’mo—so needy to get stuffed. I bet you want my knot, huh?” he keeps mumbling while using his cock to play with your overworked cunt without yet entering it. “Alright, baby—don’t worry—I’ll give it to you,” he rasps, drooling.

You can’t keep from whimpering when the bed jostles, accounting for his repositioning as he moves to mount you with his feet planted down flat on the bed. Your ankles are pinned passed your head at this point, tipping your cunt up higher than your head.

“Yeah—I’ll give you what you want.” His voice darkens, and so does the look in his eyes—soaked in something you don’t like—something wild and downright terrifying. “And I’ll give it to you good.”

You almost protest, but you know there’s no getting through to him—not with that expression. You hate Alphas, you hate him, and you really hate this awful pose—this mating-press pile-driving overkill where he always bullies into the backroom of your cunt, insisting on fucking your cervix as he digs his cockhead right at the mouth of your womb, knotting you and filling you up with the full worth of his load. It never fails to make you feel utterly wrecked and bedridden in the morning.

But he doesn’t care about that. You have no places you’re supposed to be anyway—nowhere aside from right here, in his bed, where you belong—his sweet Omega bride who’s going to give him lots of pups.

He lines himself up, pressing his head past the ring—watching it swallow around him and biting his lip at the sight. “Look at it, baby—look as I stuff that perfect pussy all the way up—”

He sinks in slowly, revering your cunt for every inch you receive—watching it in awe as it takes the entirety of his length right down to the base. It’s like a magic trick how it all disappears—you’re so tiny, and yet you’re built for this, to take every part of him in, hugging his shaft with velvet heat, milking him as he kneads the spot inside you that always makes you cry out so good for him.

“Yes, baby—that’s my girl—take it all,” he coos, all but sitting on your ass with his cock down your cunt. “It’s like your pussy’s made for me, isn’t it? Perfectly tight, perfectly deep, perfectly wet and chunky to feel like I’m fucking heaven itself—”

You feel no different from a toy when he does this—a squeaky toy manufactured for a Chihuahua puppy, yet mistakenly given to a full-grown Rottweiler. He straight dogs your cunt through several peaks—so soaked now that it fossettes down both the slope of your belly and the cliff of your spine. And still, he keeps going, rambling on like usual—all words that fail to reach you.

You’re so lightheaded you’re on the brink of passing out—overheating and out of strength, numb and tingly, beyond happy when you finally feel his knot swell within, propping you to take his seed. 

He keels over—his thighs pressed down tightly atop yours—panting above you—eyes half-mast and glazed, almost crying in bliss while feeding you his cum, knowing it's flooding your womb, breeding you full of warmth and love.

“Yes, every drop, baby—it’s all yours.” He keeps a thumb rubbing over your clit as he croons. Voice beyond lovesick, “Let’s make too many pups to count.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Umemiya, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[gracieheartspedro]

For Cryin’ Out Loud

pairing: post-outbreak! joel miller x afab! reader

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

word count: 7.9k

description: living with joel is complicated, especially when you can’t sleep due to nightmares. when you find yourself in his bed, you can’t help yourself. but joel sure can. give him a day to mull it over.

warnings: pretty slow burn, kinda forced proximity, kinda angsty, unspecified age gap (don’t like it, don’t read it), joel gives you tons of nicknames (darlin’, kiddo, etc.), discussions of nightmares and possible mental illnesses, some fluff, reader isn’t really described, joel is kinda a gaslighter, he’s also a bit pervy, unprotected p in v (wrap it y’all), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, joel like worships you!!!!!, joel licks his fingers clean, giving genitalia pronouns, joel’s a big boy. think that’s it. lemme know what I missed!

author’s note: I really enjoyed writing this. the idea is pretty simple but I love domestic jackson!joel. I promise i’ll try to switch it up soon and write something that isn’t jackson!era lol. support your fav fics by reblogging and commenting!! thanks love ya <3

For some reason, you always find yourself standing at the threshold of the front door when you cannot sleep. 

The air was especially brisk tonight. You wrapped yourself in a gray chunky sweater you found in the lost and found in Jackson’s thrift store, hoping to regain some warmth. Your bed may have been comfortable, but it was the place where nightmares usually plagued you. 

It was too late to be awake, and you knew that if you were caught, you would hear it from Joel. He always reprimanded you. Every time he caught you up late, it was like your father woke up and found your hand in the cookie jar. 

The dynamic between you two had changed since arriving in Jackson, and you almost resented him for it. When it was just you, him, and Ellie, you were managing a family unit. Joel was always the protective father, you being the mom or the voice of reason, and Ellie being chaos. 

When Ellie and Joel’s relationship shifted, he took on a fatherly role for you. It bothered you. A lot. 

In a moment of contemplation, you hear footsteps coming down the steps behind you. 

He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and no shirt, his hairy tummy something you did not see often. 

“What are you doing awake?” He questions, his voice groggy with a twinge of annoyance. 

You do not feel like explaining yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without a justification. 

You huff, leaning your back against the door frame so you can get a full look at the broad man. “Can’t sleep. Thought staring into the darkness would help.”

He grunts, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s that workin’ for you, sweetheart?”

You could not close your eyes without the haunting dreams that seemed lively and so real. Every night, you had the same recurring ones. You were being chased, hunted, or murdered. Or all of the above. You would wake in a cold sweat, not wanting to shut your eyelids ever again. 

“Hm,” You say, staring back outside for a brief moment, “‘Was better when you weren’t looking over my shoulder.”

He chuckles, “Get back to bed.”

“I can’t, Joel.”

“You can and will. You’re no good when you’re tired.”

“If I close my eyes, Joel, I will just have the same goddamn nightmares I have every night. And I will end up doing what I’m doing now, which is trying to get some fresh air to forget them.”

“You’re not gonna forget ‘em with some fresh air. You just need to… get over them.”

The breeze picks up as soon as he says it, almost like the world knew the tension would have to be broken with some frigid air. You retort with, “And how do you get over yours?”

"I just accept them," he says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I don't have time to dwell on them. There's always more important things to worry about."

"I'm more tired in the morning when I just endure them." You explain, trying not to cry about it. But you are so sick of them. The same thing every night.

“I get it. One day they will subside, I’m sure of it. But for now, you gotta-”

You just want him to shut up. At the same time, your mind is trying to remember the last time you did not have a nightmare. The memory makes your stomach churn. “You remember that one time we were forced to share that sleeping bag? Back in Pittsburgh?”

“Yeah,” His tone was wary, “What about it?”

"That was the first night I didn't have it." You explain, your voice a bit shaking at the insinuation. You don’t want to face the fact that Joel, the man that you have known for going on 10 years, kept your nightmares at bay. The same man who continuously rejected you and told you that he was old enough to be your dad. The same man that told you no, I don’t like you like that. I never will. That Joel. 

“And? Why are you bringing this up now?”

"Because every night I go to my bed and I'm forced to face them alone. When you were there... they didn't even bother holding my mind hostage.”

He took another step closer, closing some of the distance between you two. He towers over you and you can’t help but stare up at him in awe. Joel has always been a complicated part of your life. You consider him your sexual awakening, honestly, but he will never ever know that. Over the years, he’s only gotten more handsome. 

But now, he has a curious expression written all over his face.

"Are you saying you want to share a bed with me?" he asks, his voice gruff and low.

You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to answer. You knew that was stepping over a boundary for Joel. He liked his space. He didn’t like you impeding on that space, especially. Your bedroom was the furthest away from his for a reason.

"I don't know." You manage to say.

Joel's gaze darkened, his expression was completely unreadable. You wish you could read his mind, but you should be grateful you can not. 

Because in Joel’s mind, he’s trying to formulate a way to convince you to stay away from him altogether. The wall he has built over the last decade was intentional. He did not want to hurt you any further. He already knew you had feelings for him, but he was an old man. He did not want to drag you into his mess, all the baggage he carried. He looked after you, he shared a home with you, and that’s it. Strictly platonic. 

He shifted on his feet a little, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You shook like a little leaf.

"You don't know?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble.

You nod, "I don't know if I want that."

You do want that. But you want more, too. You knew you would be playing with fire. You would just be disappointed. 

Joel’s temptations are buried deep but they still fester every now and again. Some days he would catch a glance at you getting dressed in the crack of your door and have to take a cold shower. As soon as he felt those emotions bubble in his chest, he would try to distract himself. Maybe he would take a longer patrol. Maybe he would go to the Tipsy Bison and try to find a woman to take home. That one never really worked. 

“Well, what do you want then? Because standin’ at the door and letting all the cold air in ain’t gonna work for me or you.”

You look down at your picked-over fingernails and contemplate your next sentence. You don't want to be heartbroken in the morning when you wake up and he's there sleeping peacefully next to you and you're not... his.

"I want to sleep with you."

Joel was not expecting such a blunt response from you, but he appreciated you not beating around the bush about it. He gestures for you to step out of the doorway so he can shut the door, which you do. 

He looked down at you, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the exhaustion and uncertainty. 

"You sure?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

You just nod as he locks the front door. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Joel couldn’t believe it either. Maybe it was the tiredness or the instincts he felt to protect you, but he was not mad at the idea of sharing his bed with you. 

You signal for him to go upstairs, “You lead the way.”

-

Joel’s room was always off-limits to you. So when you step into his small little world, you take it all in. 

The artwork around the room was mainly nature landscapes. He had a big dresser right at the room's entrance with picture frames of Sarah, Ellie, and other family members. You were even included in one photo—a picture of you and him on some horses from last year. 

A shirt littered one side of the bed, so you took that as it was probably his side. Unfortunately for you, it was the right side. You felt a pang of guilt realizing you would probably end up restlessly lying in Joel’s bed if you were stuck on the left. 

Before he can pull back the blanket for himself, you stop him. 

“Uh, can I sleep on that side?”

He completely halts in his motions, turning his head towards you with a blank expression. “My side? Why?”

You lick your lips, already regretting this whole thing. 

“Because I have had this superstition since I was a kid that I could only sleep on the right side of the bed."

Joel wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He can tell you are at war in your head about the question, your expression practically anticipating his rejection. 

"Superstitions, huh?" he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips."You and your weird beliefs."

You watch as he crosses to the other side of the bed and lifts the blanket. Is he actually letting you have his side? Maybe he doesn’t hate you. 

“You could also call it a compulsion, but superstitions seem more fun and less like a mental illness.”

He laughs this time, his deep chuckle making you feel a bit more relaxed about the situation. You did not feel like a burden as much. You walk to the right side and pull back his navy blue sheets and blanket. The spot looks warm and inviting so when you crawl in next to Joel, you start to realize that you’re back in the same situation you were in years ago in that sleeping bag. He was so close and warm and you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and keep you comfortable.

But then another thing came to mind before you could imagine his arms around you. 

You usually sleep on your right side or back, but now you don't know what to do because you didn't know how Joel slept.

"Do you sleep on your side or back?"

Joel studies you as you fidget beside him, your uncertainty causing him to smirk slightly. It was almost endearing, seeing you be completely out of control of your surroundings. He remembers back when you were traveling with him you had an obsessive need to straighten up everything before you fell asleep. You had to roll yourself up in your sleeping bag the same way every night. 

"Usually on my back," he said finally. "But I can sleep on my side, too."

You swallow, trying to picture yourself sleeping. For some reason you felt the urge to have control of the situation, dictating exactly how he has to sleep, too. "Can I... I'll sleep on my side if you can sleep on your back? Is that okay?"

Joel had to suppress a smirk at your request. You knew he was trying to hold back a snarky remark. Instead, he surprises you.

"Sure, you can sleep on your side," he agreed, shifting his body weight onto his back, "’n I'll sleep on my back. No big deal."

You turn to face him, tucking the pillow further under your head. You can tell his eyes are heavy from exhaustion. You know it's time to shut up, to go to sleep, but you feel the need to say something else to him. Sometimes your brain concocts questions and statements and you know you shouldn’t say them, but your mouth betrays you.  

"When was the last time you had a girl in your bed?"

Why the fuck would you ask that? You think to yourself. It fell out of your mouth like drool.

Joel's eyes widened at your blunt question, surprise and a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. You knew he was probably just expecting you to lay here next to him, maybe roll around a bit, then sleep. But instead, it’s an interrogation.

He took a deep breath, his mind rattling around as he tried to think of a response. He didn't want to admit what his genuine answer was to you, but he too could not help himself.

"Why do you want to know that?" he asks, his voice steely.

You hate that he even responded because now you needed to defend yourself.

"I uh, don't know. I don't know why it matters."

Joel chuckled softly, noting that you probably just had a case of word vomit. You always told him you were infamous for putting your foot in your mouth, especially in awkward situations.

"Curiosity got the better of you, huh?" he asks, rubbing his face with his hands. “You just can’t help yourself, sweetheart.”

He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to face you, his gaze studying your expression.

You smirk, grateful that he's letting it slide. When he turns onto his side and he's at eye level with you, your face drops a bit. He is ruining the vision in your head. He’s throwing a wrench in your plans.

"You're supposed to be on your back, sir."

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your comment. He knew he was supposed to be on his back, but the new angle allowed him to see you better in the faint moonlight.

"Don't worry," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. "I'll turn back over in a minute. Just... enjoying the view for a bit."

You roll your eyes, lifting your hands from under the covers and lightly hitting his arm. You knew he was just fucking with you now. 

"Okay, for that, I want to know the answer to my stupid question."

Joel let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He shook his head, amused by your persistence. You start to think about it and you have never really seen him bring anyone home. Maybe it had been a very long time and he was embarrassed. 

"Alright, alright," he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Last time I had a girl in my bed..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to the covers, his mind racing to find the right words.

"Go on..."

Joel took another deep breath, his voice dropping even lower as he spoke.

"It's been a long time, kiddo," he admitted, his voice pierced with a bit of shame. "Almost ten years, if I'm being honest."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "No way... You've never just... got it on with someone in bed?"

Joel's face flushed with embarrassment at your blunt question, a mix of shock and slight irritation flashing across his eyes.

"Jesus, you really don't hold back, do ya?" he muttered. He shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable in a different way. He hadn't expected the conversation to turn so personal, so quickly and he did not want to face you anymore. He was mortified. 

You mentally slap yourself in the face.

"I'm sorry, I am just tired and delusional. Uh, you don't have to answer that."

Joel could practically feel the humiliation radiating off you and he too felt the exact same way. You knew how to add to an already awkward situation.

"No, no, it's fine," he reassured you, his voice a bit gentler now. "I get it. You're tired, and your filter has taken a backseat."

"Yeah, exactly..."

He shifted on the bed, turning onto his back again, his gaze shifting to the ceiling, avoiding your curious stare.

You could not help but stare at his side profile. A prominent straight nose. His downturned lips are surrounded by some fine lines that show his age. He was a beautiful man now, but you can’t help but imagine him back in his 20s. He had to have been a hit with the ladies back then.

Joel could feel your gaze on him, studying his face. And while you were not scrutinizing him, he felt like a commodity in a museum or something.  He forced himself to keep his gaze on the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes.

"So… ten years and no sex?”

You could seriously, not help yourself.

"Correct.” He grumbles, still not meeting your stare.

"Damn, Joel." You mutter, adjusting a bit to sit up a little more on your pillow. "I seriously thought you were sleeping around the whole time we have been in Jackson.”

He finally turns your way, a bit of offense on his face. “Why would you think that?”

You shrug, not wanting to insult him. But that’s how you formulated your grudge towards him. It was easy to just chalk everything up to problems with random women you have seen around town. 

“You just give off the energy…”

“What?”

You huff, laying back on the pillow. “I don’t know, Joel! I feel like when I’m around you all the ladies think you’re handsome. They stare.”

“They are staring because you’re always following me around and we aren’t married or… together. They think we are odd.” 

You had never heard such things around Jackson, but it does sort of make sense. Everyone was probably just confused because you two lived together but were not a couple. You can admit it is bizarre, but it just did not feel like an option any other way, in your mind. So Tommy gave you two a bigger house and you set up separate rooms. 

But in actuality, Joel secretly told Tommy that he did not want you too far from him. So when Tommy couldn’t give you any other houses nearby, Joel just told him that you two would be roommates.

“Well fuck ‘em.” You mutter, trying not to sound too offended by the thought of people gossiping about you two.

Joel just nods. You settle by tucking your arm under your pillow. You yawn, the exhaustion now taking over your body. You watch Joel grab a pair of reading glasses from the side table and a book. You decide not to bother him, especially because he probably wanted to just read himself to sleep instead of being interrogated by you any further.

You close your eyes and eventually fall asleep. The deeper you get, Joel notices how your breathing pattern changes. When he’s finally ready to get some shut-eye as well, he watches as your body crawls closer to him. Your arm swings over his stomach and rests on his forearm. He is so shocked he does not move a muscle. 

You adjust some more, not knowing what you are doing. Your leg creeps up and tucks right between his. You snuggle your face right into his chest. The only movement Joel decides to make is slinging his arm over your shoulders to pull you in tighter. 

It’s the first time in years that you two slept soundly, with no interruptions. No nightmares, no sudden intrusions, nothing. Silence and snores fill the room and that’s it.

-

When you wake up, it’s slow and gradual. Your brain hardly computes that you’re laying on top of Joel’s shirtless frame, until your hand runs across his warm tummy. 

You crook your neck up, looking at the handsome man you are spreading across. 

His lips are slightly ajar, letting out hardly-there snores. They are so pretty and pink and you cannot help but touch them with feather-like fingertips. You would feel so guilty waking him up-

His eyes slowly open taking notice of your actions even though you tried not to stir him. Your eyes fly open in shock, but he does not seem very annoyed. He smiles. 

“Mornin’ darlin’,” He says in a deep sleep-laced voice. You smile back at him, loving that he decided to call you the nickname you always got giddy over. You press your fingers into his chest before replying.

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

His hand comes up from your shoulders and tucks some hair behind your ear as he stares down at you, “That’s good kiddo. I’m glad you slept well.”

The intimacy is almost too much. The way this is how it would be if you woke up to Joel every morning. It sends your brain into overdrive and you force yourself to ruin it a bit.

“Woulda slept even better if you didn’t talk so much in your sleep.”

Joel froze for a moment, his cheeks immediately flushing pink with embarrassment. He sits up a bit more, adjusting to the brighter lighting in his room. He knew he had a problem with talking in his sleep. Ellie used to talk about it all the time. He dreaded hearing what he was saying while curled up next to you.

"Uh... what did I say?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"Something about it felt so good to be pressed up against someone, I don't know..." 

You could not help yourself and started to laugh. You knew you were going to get a rise out of him. 

Joel's face flushed an even deeper shade of pink as you started to laugh, clearly amused by your joke. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an excuse. He was just dreaming, it was not about you. 

"W-what?" he spluttered out instead of making an excuse. "I didn't... I didn't say anything like that."

You have a shit-eating grin on your face and you press your hands on his chest to prop yourself up. You enjoyed watching him squirm.

Joel's eyes flickered down to your hands on his chest. He sickly thought they felt so right placed there. He imagined what you would look like fully mounting him. 

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but you could see through his stone-cold exterior.

"You're messing with me, aren't you?" he grumbled, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Fully fuckin' with you." You giggle, hoping he is not really that mad at you. 

“You’re a brat.”

You move your foot slightly, running it up his leg. It sends shockwaves up his body, having you so close and moving around so seamlessly. 

"No, you said something about how beautiful, alluring, and incredible I am. Said I was the girl of your dreams…"

"Yeah, right," he said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. "You expect me to believe that?"

"So, you don't believe me?"

"No, I don't believe you," he says, his voice stern but playful. "I think you're a dirty little liar, trying to play me for a fool."

"A dirty little liar, huh? Well, it's good to know that you don't think I'm beautiful, alluring, and incredible." You giggle at his acknowledgment, knowing he caught you red-handed.

"Oh, I never said that," he smirked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You are all of those things, darlin’. But you're also a dirty little liar who likes to play games."

"So you think I'm beautiful?" You crack, the biggest smile painted on your face. You don’t even care that he’s calling you a liar because it does not matter. Joel thinks you are beautiful. 

“‘Course I do.”

You push yourself up onto your butt, sitting crisscross next to him. He secretly wishes you were still curled up on top of him. 

“You always this nice in the morning?” You ponder, your fingertips starting to toy with the hair on his stomach. He tries not to pay mind to it, letting you have full access to touch him. 

But it’s driving him insane. The way you look freshly woken up, completely enamored with the idea of him calling you beautiful. You have some puffiness under your eyes and your lips are more swollen than usual.

“I am always nice to you.”

You let out a scoff, “No, you’re not.”

He notices the shift in your tone and starts to get defensive, “Now you’re just lyin’.” 

Joel always loved to gaslight you in these situations. You knew better than to let him get away with it, especially now. “No there was that one time you told me you did not like me and that you would never like me. How you are old enough to be my dad-”

“Because I am!”

And there’s the wall. The only constant in you two’s relationship. He was so good at throwing it up when feelings were being expressed. When vulnerability was presented, Joel could not help but reject it. 

“And the world’s fuckin’ ended, Joel! Big deal!” You almost yell, moving your hands from him. 

Why does he already miss your hands?

He huffs, crossing his arms over his soft chest. “We have had this conversation for the last 10 years.’M not sure why we keep rehashing it.”

“And every time you turn me down it’s another fuckin’ stab in the heart.”

“You know why we can’t,” He practically growls. You can not stand to even look at him anymore with your bitterness and irritation taking over. 

“Whatever, Joel.” 

As soon as you say it, you’re already leaving his room and heading to your own. When you slam the door, you hope you have made your point. You want to scream and punch a hole in the wall, but instead you just furiously stomp around the room and grab your clothes. You had patrol at noon, so you needed to get to the mess hall before breakfast was over. You try not to cry as you strip down and get dressed.

Joel sits in bed, reeling. He hates that it has become a conversation every six months. He hated that rejecting you always sent you into a spiral of hating him for extended periods. It’s not that he did not want you, it was simply just not in the cards. He was too old to be in love. He was too old to play house with you. He just could not submit to the idea of leading you on, especially because you had so much more life to live. 

He finally works up the courage to get out of bed and put on some clothes. He opts for putting on his typical jeans and thick flannel. It was getting colder and he knew by the end of the winter, you would end up with half his flannels anyway, so he had to enjoy them while he had them. 

You storm downstairs, going to the back door for your boots when you spot him in the kitchen. 

“You got pat-”

“Yes.” You respond quickly, shoving your foot into your shoes. He stands behind you with a mug full of tea, watching your every move. 

“Who are you-”

“Jesse.”

He was asking his usual questions, which you were not in the mood to answer. 

“Hey, can you-”

You snap your head back at him, giving him the glare you gave him as a warning usually. By now, he takes it as a hint and backs off. But not this time. 

“Can I what?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you fuckin’ not be a brat about this?”

You wish your glare came with knives. If that were the case, Joel Miller would be dead on his kitchen floor. 

You are so thrown off by the question that you just watch him get angrier when you do not respond. 

“Are you serious, right now?” You press, keeping your voice from cracking. 

He brings the mug up to his mouth, taking an obnoxious sip. When he pulls the mug away, you notice how steaming it is. “You always pull this shit-”

“No, you do! You do this shit to me every fuckin’ time, Joel. You sweet talk me, make me feel comfortable, have me lapping everything up in the palm of your hands, and then you snatch it away. Then have the audacity to get mad at me!”

You are yelling now and it is throwing him off. Joel knows better than to interrupt you like you do to him. You were the kind of person who would calm down if you felt heard. 

The way he knew you down to your core made this all so painful. Because if he was not so stubborn and true to his convictions, he would have fucked you the moment you touched his lips this morning. 

“I ain’t tryin’ to make this harder than-” “Too fuckin’ late.”

You think back to the moment last night when you knew you were going to hurt your own feelings by sleeping with him. You knew better, yet here you are, still blaming him for your stupidity.

He stands there, still holding his mug, staring you down like a wounded doe who got pierced with an arrow. He feels guilty like he misled you. Before he can say anything, you are lacing up your boots and leaving out the front door without another word. 

-

All day long, Joel wanders around the house trying to get rid of the pit in his stomach. Nothing works. A shower. Reading a book. Cutting wood. As soon as he tried to use laundry as a distraction, he reached into his hamper and found one of your t-shirts. He held it close and smelled it, trying to wrap his head around how he got here. 

You spend all day, silently fuming on horseback with Jesse. When he tries to get you to open up, you ice him out and tell him to focus on the trail in front of him. 

You get back by sundown, the sun setting making it a lot chiller than you expected. You decide to take the long way home, wanting to avoid being home for as long as possible. You were not ready to face Joel, let alone share a space with him. But unfortunately, during your patrol, you fell into some mud and needed a shower. The more time it spent on your clothes and body, the grosser you felt. 

You open the front door, announcing that you are home. It was a habit you and Joel developed after you both pulled guns on each other during late-night arrivals. 

You hear Joel mumble something from the living room, but you do not stop to listen and continue on your way upstairs to the bathroom. 

You strip down as soon as the door is closed, tossing your muddy clothing into a hamper in the corner. You would get them washed and hung as soon as you shower off. 

You hear Joel’s footsteps creaking around the upstairs hallway as you scrub your body with homemade soap and warm water. 

When you start to dry yourself off, you hear Joel grunting something in the hallway. You wrap yourself in a towel and peek your head out the door. He’s on his hands and knees wiping something off the hardwood. “What’s goin’ on?”

He looks up at you, your body only covered in a bleach-stained blue towel. It makes his head spin. He can’t even be mad that you tracked in mud. 

He swallows, gripping the cloth he’s using tighter. “You got mud everywhere.”

You step out, not even really thinking about the fact that you are not properly dressed in front of Joel. You were still mad at him, anyway. Who cares what he thinks?

“Sorry, I could’ve cleaned it up.”

He returns to wiping the wood, “It’s fine, I got it, kiddo.”

You accept his response and move on to your room, but the draft you leave behind drifts to Joel’s nostrils. Your soap smells like lavender and it always sends his mind racing when you are fresh from a shower. He clears his throat, trying to get through the emotions filling his chest. 

But it’s been like this all day. You’re all around him even when you’re not physically here. How can he get away from you? Why is he trying to run in the first place?

He’s on his knees in your hallway, cleaning up your mess, sniffing the air you leave behind because he’s fucking in love with you and he cannot help himself anymore. 

Joel starts to think about how peaceful he felt having you next to him last night and how he would love to feel that way every night. For once he’s not thinking about what everyone else would think. For once he’s thinking selfishly and caving into every desire he has ever pondered about you. How would you feel under him? How would your lips feel pressed against his pulse point? 

His body was on fire, thinking about you. 

You are fiddling with some clothes in your dresser after you flick on the overhead light. You do not hear him come into your room behind you. 

You are so wrapped up in your own thoughts that when he clears his throat to announce he’s in your room, you scream. Loud. 

“For cryin’ out loud, woman!” 

You grip your towel tighter when you turn and see him standing at your mercy. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, gesturing to the fact that you are practically naked. He does not care, of course, and his ears are ringing from your piercing scream. He gathers himself as you shift back, trying to create some distance from him.

He is trying not to gawk at the fact that your grip on the towel against your chest is only pushing up your cleavage. He’s biting back everything. “Can we talk?”

“Talk about what? The fact you crept into my room when I was trying to change? Are we past boundaries now?” 

You are pissed, trying not to rattle off another million things to discuss with him. He’s only really talking about one thing. 

He scoffs at your last statement. “Boundaries were already out the window when you crawled into bed with me last night.”

Silence fills the room as you completely stop breathing. The anger you originally felt dissipates. 

“Joel-“

“I ain’t doin’ this back and forth anymore,” He starts shifting in his spot, unsure if he really should be doing this. “I can’t live how I've been livin’. Somethin’s gotta give.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. 

“You are the one who won’t give, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, he practically drags himself over to you. Completely destitute. You have never seen him look so desperate before. You can tell that he’s been at war with himself ever since you left this morning. His eyes never lied.

His hand creeps up your bare arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

But then you remember his words from this morning. You start feeling like this is just a moment of weakness for him and that he will regret it later. You had to stop it before it was too late. You did not want to deal with the consequences. 

“Joel, you said we can’t-”

“Fuck what I said,” He cuts you off, “Do you want this?”

You stare into those brown eyes, searching for a sign of hesitance. You cannot believe Joel is being this vulnerable with you. 

But, you do want him. God, you have wanted him so badly for so long. You have searched for him in every man you have ever been with since knowing him. 

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. He takes note of your parted lips, every word failing you at that moment.

“Darlin’-”

“Yes,” You finally manage. “Yes, I do want this.”

It’s all he needs. He closes the gap between you two by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his space. His lips crash onto yours, not wasting another breath of air waiting to indulge in his sickest fantasies. 

You are all Joel ever dreamed about. He knew that once he caved and physically gave in, his world would be shot and everything would revolve around you. For years it had been a teetering object on a cliff, one nudge would have him falling. He always managed. But now, he was falling head first. 

His lips move so perfectly with your own. Your hand released your towel and found the tufts of his curls at the base of his head. You did not care that the article pooled around your feet, leaving you completely bare in front of Joel. You have wanted this all along. To be uncovered, to be stripped down to the rawest form. He broke the kiss briefly just to scan your naked body, his forehead pressed against your own. 

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

Your heart stutters as his hand traces your stomach down to your hips, all the way down to your ass. He stops there, grabbing a handful. 

“I need you,” You choke out before pressing your lips to his over and over again. “Right now.”

He mumbles “jump” into your mouth and you do so, his hands working quickly to hike you up onto his waist. He carries you to your bed, wasting no time dropping you onto your back. 

He cannot get enough of your soft, swollen lips. Every time he pulls away slightly, he dives in again even more aggressively than the last time. 

You are so hypnotized by the way he feels on top of you. In the light, he seems so much broader than he was last night. He’s still fully clothed, to your dismay. You start to tug at his shirt, motioning him to remove the articles that are in your way. 

He throws off his shirt before he stands up at the edge of the bed and pushes down his jeans. 

“Joel… I-“

He just shuts you up with another passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to melt into your mouth. Your hands trail up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, holding him down so he is pressing against your nude body. 

“God, I have wanted this for so long,” He sputters, trying not to sound too desperate. “Been wanting this.”

That’s when his hand reaches down between your thighs and gathers the wetness your slit has to offer. His fingers dance across it, starting from the top all the way to your spongy entrance. 

“Please, Joel.”

He loves the lust-laced tone you speak with when you say his name. It almost makes him cum there and then. 

You watch as he makes his way down your body, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your hip. When he parts your legs, you feel quite exposed. The adrenaline of being so spread for him manifests into a moan. 

“You are divine, baby.”

The use of that adjective is so-not-Joel that it makes you giggle. He notes your reaction and decides to sink down into you. When his mouth gets close to your core, it’s no longer a laughing matter. 

He uses his fingers again, using them to spread open your pussy lips. He cannot keep his eyes away from how dripping you are. “This all for me?”

“Y-yes, Joel.”

“God, I was a fuckin’ fool for so long. Could’ve had her earlier and I never fuckin’ caved. Such an idiot.”

Him giving your cunt pronouns was enough to have you throwing your head back and shuttering. His touch was magnetic like he knew exactly what buttons to push as he rubbed his fingers and palm over your core. 

“Yeah, you’ve been missin’ out. Every night…” You swallow before looking down at the man that is enamored with your pussy, “E-every night I would lay in this bed, fuckin’ myself just thinkin’ about you.”

He growls at the statement, before teasingly kissing your clit. “Every night, hm, kiddo?”

“God, yes.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as he leans forward more and dives in. His nose is pressed firmly against the top of your pussy, nudging forward every time his tongue enters your hole. When that motion became consistent, you began to note the rumblings in the pit of your stomach. A familiar build-up that you managed to get when you were playing with yourself. 

His fingers move in tandem with his lips and tongue. While his middle and pointer finger slide in and out of you, his lips wrap around your clit. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming. 

You do not know where to center yourself, so your hands grip the bed sheets you were completely soaking as Joel pulls the first orgasm out of you. 

“That’s it, baby, she’s cryin’ for me, hm?”

You hardly make a noise, the orgasm is so earth-shattering that you just writhe on the mattress. 

“Oh my god…” You groan, finally able to catch your breath. When Joel removes his fingers from you, you watch as he slowly brings them up to his lips.

When he inserts them in his mouth, you gawk at him, unsure how to react. He watches your expression and chuckles darkly.

“Mm, never seen a man enjoy the taste of ya?”

You shake your head. “Never expected to hear those words leave your mouth, either.”

“Wait ‘til you hear what else I got to say.”

He stands up beside the bed, grabs your hips, and brings them to the edge. He is tossing you around with ease, bringing your lower body flush with his. He yanks down his briefs, revealing himself to you. You instantly take notice of how well-endowed he is. You never thought you would ever be close to his cock, let alone have it lining up at your entrance. 

“Joel…“ You stop him with your small voice, but still welcoming him in with your legs opened wide, “I don’t know if it will fit.”

He grins, “It will, baby. Just relax for me, okay?”

You watch him slide his member along your center, the feeling so blissfully overstimulating. You whine a bit, raising your hips to his. 

But Joel continues his torture, enjoying the way you’re squirming under him. The way your eyebrows are knitted together, your eyes shut as you grind up into him. It’s the prettiest sight. 

“Ready?”

Your eyes fly open as you watch him ease his way into your core, the sound of squelching filling the room. You don’t think you have ever been this wet for someone. 

“Oh my fuckin’ god, Joel…”

He smiles as he inches in, “Squeezin’ my cock so good, darlin’.”

When he’s fully sheathed inside, he tests the waters by drawing out slowly. You roll your hips in a circle, trying to feel out every inch of him. He fits, but you know once he starts to move faster, the stretch will become overwhelming. 

He’s trying to focus and not blow his load immediately. You look so beautiful below him, your tits slowly shifting back and forth every time he draws back and forth. He reaches out, wanting to feel the flesh between his fingers. God, he craved every inch of you, he realizes. 

You open your legs as far as you can, letting him hit you at a different angle. The movement allows him to slip in a bit more seamlessly, so when he speeds up his thrusts, you don’t feel like you will completely split in half. 

He brings your leg up to hips, and feeling your soft delicate skin against him makes him lose all sense. His hips snap faster the more you moan out for him. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, girl. I can’t believe I was missin’ out on this cunt,” He babbles, “Need this cunt every day from now on. Gonna have you all to myself every night.”

You are too fucked out of your mind to read into those implications.

“‘M all yours, Joel.”

He smiles, slowing down a bit. “Keep talkin’ like that and ‘ll finish a lot sooner than you.”

You sit up a bit, your eyes flickering over his entire body. He notices you checking out his nude frame, which makes him feel a bit more bold. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You love the way his tongue slips into your mouth so effortlessly. When he opens his mouth, his facial hair tickles your nose a bit which makes you smile. When his hips pick back up to a quicker pace, it sends you gasping into his mouth.

“Please, Joel,” You whine, that familiar build starts up but this time it’s like a freight train. Moving so quickly down every nerve ending in your body. “I’m gonna cum.”

“‘M with you, darlin’. Soak this dick. I’m right behind ya.”

His dirty talk causes the crash. Your body practically lifts off the mattress. You cry out so loud you are sure a neighbor could hear you. You try to gain your bearings, but you are panting like you just ran a mile. 

Joel fucks you through it, but the restriction your pussy is putting on his cock sends him over the edge. His hips stutter into yours, his seed emptying into your spent hole. He just keeps repeating your name as his thrusts slow down.

He has never had such a visceral orgasm in his life. His knees are weak and can hardly keep up his weight. He practically falls on top of you, which does not offend you at all. His warm sweaty body on top of you is almost reassuring. 

“You okay, kiddo?” He finally mutters as his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You just nod, bringing your hand up to his salt and pepper hair. You tug lightly, smiling to yourself. 

“I’m more than okay.”

He finally sits up, his cock spilling out of you as he adjusts his position. Your hole drips a mixture of cum onto your newly clean sheets, but you could care less. It’s just another thing to hand wash tonight.

Joel stumbles to the middle of the room, picking up your bath towel. He uses it to wipe himself up before coming over to you. Your legs are still slightly apart so he decides to clean you up a bit. He’s gentle, knowing that you are probably still sensitive.

Once he finishes up, he crawls next to you as you continue to recover. Your bones felt like jello so standing up to adjust yourself was not an option.

So instead of facing him, you stare up at your ceiling fan as his eyes lock onto every detail of your profile. It brings him back to one night you two shared under the stars a couple of years ago. It was his turn to keep watch so you curled up in your sleeping bag by the fire. He admired you from across the flames, the orange hues lit up every angle of your face. It was at that moment that Joel realized that he could not picture his life without you. You had weaseled your way into every facet of his life and he used to resent the impact you had on him. You were younger, more patient but still stubborn like him. You made him laugh, like genuinely laugh, for the first time since the infection. While you may have been a bit impulsive with your emotions, he envied the way you could say exactly what you were thinking. 

Joel did not want to love you, but it was impossible not to. 

You finally look over at him, noticing the softness in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” You pose, scrunching your nose. 

He gives you a toothless smile, his eyes crinkling a bit. “I just can’t wait to sleep next to you for the rest of my life.”

tags of people I love and who may wanna read (no pressure I just love u) (some of u did ask tho) : @ashleyfilm @hockeyhughes @pedrospookie @guiltyasdave @amanitacowboy @myownwholewildworld

[fastandcarlos]

Restless Baby : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: 1.1k words of dad and husband max trying to fix the angsty mess that he's made

A hum of confusion came from Max as he tapped the space beside him, expecting to feel your figure. Instead he was slapped by the harsh cold of your empty space, the chill in the air leaving Max shivering. He knew bed was where you needed to be, especially with your pregnancy so close to the end.

He slowly sat himself up, brushing his hands over the front of his face. Max steadily stood up, noticing a faint glow of light coming from the doorway. He knew it was you, but he was confused as to what you were still doing up. 2:07 the clock informed him, definitely time for you to be resting. Max crept through the house, moving down the stairs to try and find where you were.

Fast asleep.

Max was almost relieved to see you resting until he noticed how uncomfortable you looked. The guilt struck him as soon as he took you in, knowing that your decision to sleep on the cold, battered sofa was all down to him.

Unlucky for Max, you weren’t quite as asleep as he thought you were. You could hear him moving through the room, desperately trying to keep your eyes screwed shut in an attempt to convince Max that you really were asleep and for him to leave you alone. He knew you better though, and knew exactly the way to try and catch you out too.

His head shook as he took a few quiet steps towards you, poking his finger against your arm that hung out from the blanket you had draped over you. Your body jumped at his sudden touch, confident you could hear Max giggling proudly to himself as he sat down beside your figure, giving you a moment to rub the sleep out of your eyes and tilt your head to look across at him.

“This is ridiculous,” Max told you, resting his arm just above your head.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huffed, pulling the blanket further around your body, making sure that your bump was well protected and warm.

“Just come and join me in bed.”

Your head shook defiantly back at Max. “Why would I share a bed with the man who says I’m distracting his career because he can’t get a good night’s sleep with all my fidgeting. I’m giving you what you wanted right now, what’s the problem?” You snapped. Max flinched at your harsh tone, he knew what he’d said was probably the worst thing that he could say, and he knew he had a whole world of making up to do too.

“According to my data I got three hours of sleep last night, my coaches are really concerned as to what’s going on!”

“You try being seven months pregnant and see how it easy it is to rest at night, I’m sorry life is so difficult for you Max.”

“At least you can rest most of the day!”

“Wow Max!”

“My lack of sleep is starting to effect my performance and I can’t let that happen, my career is important and you wriggling around most of the night is really starting to impact that!” Max yelled back, stopping as soon as he realised what he had said. Your eyes fell to the floor as you took a moment to process what he had said, sticking the blame on you as if you wanted to sleep restlessly and enjoyed not being able to let your husband rest at night. “Babe, I-“

“Don’t even try and apologise, I can’t believe you’re making me feel guilty for growing our child, I’m sorry it’s all just such an inconvenience.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, you know I don’t feel that way,” Max tried to argue, but your mind was already made up, his true feelings really were now known.

“You go to bed Max, I’ll give you the space that your precious career needs,” you told him, pushing him in the direction of your bedroom. He let his feet go, knowing arguing with you was pointless, hoping you’d follow behind him.

“I don’t know what I was thinking when I said what I said earlier love.”

Max’s hand slowly reached out and hovered over the top of your bump, smiling to himself as he admired just how big your baby was getting.

“My career is important, but you and the baby mean so much more to me. I was insensitive and rude, my priorities weren’t straight. I know it’s hard for you, and I really do completely understand how difficult being pregnant is,” Max whispered.

Your hand slowly moved across your bump, resting your fingers just over the top of Max’s.

“No one wants for me to sleep peacefully more than me,” you informed him.

“I know,” he smiled, shuffling closer towards you. “I’m so proud of you, you’re coping so well, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel anything different.”

“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know?”

“I do,” Max chuckled as he saw the first hint of a smile on your face. “I’m stupid, selfish and a massive ass sometimes, but that doesn’t stop me being so in love with you and our baby. You have no idea how excited I am for our future together babe.”

You hummed in agreement with Max, “I do, I’ve heard all those interviews you did in Miami last weekend.”

“Seeing as you’re talking to me again, is there a chance you might come and join me in bed again too? It’s horrible being in there without you,” Max smirked, extending his hand out for you to take.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you teased, taking Max’s hand and allowing his other arm to wrap around you and help you off of the sofa.

“Can I get that in writing too?” Max grinned as you started walking.

Your head shook as he supported you all the way back to the bedroom, easing you down and placing the duvet gently over your body.

“Max, reckon you could sleep if I laid in your side?” You whispered, surprised by just how cold your spot was after you left it abandoned for so long.

“Of course,” he replied without even having to think, lifting his arm up and inviting you into the warmth beside him.

“Is this alright for you?”

“I promise, it’s more than alright for me.”

Whether he slept well for the rest of the night or not, it didn’t matter to Max, just as long as he had you back by his side.

And if his data was rubbish, well, his coaches would just have to deal with it.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[ponderingmoonlight]

Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him instead of using reversed technique

Pairing: husband! Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, Yuji's "death" scnene in season 1, blood lol

Thank you dear anon for aggressively reminding me that it's canon for Gojo to not have any scars, it really helped me cooking up that fic! 🤍

Every step feels like hell, the only thing that keeps you from collapsing onto the floor being the reassuring hand of your husband on your shoulder.

This can’t be true, it’s just impossible. Yuji Itadori was a member of Jujutsu High for a few weeks, just started to get to know this world better. This was supposed to be an easy mission, the three of them should have made it out alive with ease. But apparently, Sukuna decided to show up. And apart from injuring Megumi, he violently took Yuji’s life by ripping his heart out. A heart made of pure gold, a heart so precious that you couldn’t help but care for that boy the minute you saw him.

But now he’s dead.

Your hands start shaking immediately the minute you step into this cursed room you visited far too often, gazing at Yuji’s body covered by a cloak. This isn’t a bad dream. No, the blood covering the white cloak tells you more than urgently that Yuji Itadori isn’t there anymore.

“Please tell me that there’s a chance he’ll come back”, you mutter.

Oh, how much both Shoko and Satoru hate to see you like that. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High how deeply you care about your students, loving them like your own children. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a student die in front of your eyes. In times like these, jujutsu sorcerers pass away like flies. But Satoru knows what you’ve seen in Yuji, that he somehow reflected parts of yourself. And still, you weren’t able to protect that boy, both Satoru and you coming too late to rescue him.

“I really wish I could, but he shows no signs of life. I’ll move on to autopsy now. If you want to say goodbye…Maybe do it now and leave afterwards.”

Satoru wraps his arms around you just in time before you slide onto the ground, holding you tightly against his chest.

“This is not fair”, you breathe out, head still not able to accept Yuji’s farewell.

He was so young, so full of life. He doesn’t deserve to die, he still had so much ahead of him. There needs to be something you are able to do. Aren’t Satoru or Shoko able to use their cursed technique?

“He didn’t show any signs of life for hours by now, (y/n). Not even Shoko or me are able to bring him back to life. I’m so sorry”, he mumbles against your ear out of nowhere.

So this is really how it ended? With Yuji getting killed by none other than Sukuna himself? Like in trance, your wobbly legs carry you to the autopsy table his lifeless body lays on. You want to stretch out your arm, want to look at that precious boy one last time before Shoko does her job.

But you can’t.

“I can’t look at him”, you blurt out.

With a swift motion, you turn around and burry your face against your husband’s chest.

“It’s okay babe, just look at me, okay? You don’t have to do this.”

Satoru’s arms keep you from losing yourself completely, soak up your falling tears while his head rests against yours. Oh Yuji, you’ll never be forgotten. All the laughter’s both of you shared, his potential, how he always cared about others. You will think about him every time the sun starts to rise, when new students get greeted, when you kill another curse-

“Hey, what’s up? Huh, what are both of you doing here, Gojo-sensei?”

This voice…

That was Yuji Itadori.

Out of instinct you turn around rapidly, not even noticing how the back of your head crushes into Satoru’s forehead with full force. He sees starts, blood taking his sight in an instant while his mind isn’t even able to comprehend it was Yuji who just spoke.

“Yuji! Are you okay? Are you hurt? You’re back!”, you babble out, embracing the boy in a tight hug.

“To be honest I don’t even know what happened last and I’m pretty hungry…Oh, you’re bleeding Gojo-sensei!”

You’re…bleeding? You turn around in confusion, following Yuji’s eyes.

“OMG SATORU!”, you cry out, the sight of your husband covered in his own blood shocking you to your core.

When did that happened…Was it…you?

“I guess you were so happy to see Itadori that you’ve forgot about me standing behind you”, he mutters amused.

“Babe I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got so carried away and-“

“Don’t worry about me. Reversed technique, remember? I’ll be whole in seconds. Just look after Yuji, I love you.”

You let out the breath you were holding, the bright smile forming on your gorgeous face making Satoru forget the world around him for a moment. You are so caring, so passionate. And you are his wife.

“I’m a lucky man”, he mutters to himself while pressing the tissue Shoko handed him against his wound.

There you sit, gently caressing Yuji’s cheeks and asking him over and over if he’s okay.

“You really are. This isn’t a problem for you, right?”, Shoko questions with one glance at the laceration on his forehead.

The shocked look on your face replays itself over and over in his mind, lets a chuckle escape his lips. With the help but his reversed technique, it would be way too easy to get rid of that minor wound. Within seconds, there wouldn’t even be a scar left, just his flawless skin. But…it was you who did this to him out of sheer excitement. It sure would be nice to look into the mirror and get reminded of you daily, right?

“Oh, I might as well keep that”, he replies with a sly grin.

- a few weeks later -

You sit on the edge of the couch, desperately waiting for that time of the day. Even after being married to that force of a man for 4 years now, you find yourself getting all excited when he announces that he’s going to shower. Because going to shower means that he’ll come out just wearing boxers with his body still a little wet and his hair sticking to his face in that delicate way.

“Still waiting for me, huh? It’s not like you can see me naked every time you want, babe”, he finally purrs.

Your heart skips a beat. This man…How is it even allowed to look so breathtakingly gorgeous? The way a single droplet of water runs down his cheek, how he gently strokes his damp hair back.

Wait. You squint your eyes a little harder. What is that on his forehead?

“What do you have there?”, you question, rubbing your own hand against the ride side of your forehead.

This almost looks like a scar. But Satoru shouldn’t have scars. After all, he’s able to use reversed technique, healing himself in the matter of seconds. Is it just dirt? No, that definitely looks like scar tissue.

“Oh, it’s nothing”, he immediately tries to brush you off, pulling his hair back into his face.

“No way Romeo, come back here right now”, you demand.

With a swift motion you lift yourself off the couch and hunt after him.

“Is that a scar?”

“It might be…”

“Why didn’t you just heal it? Show it to me!”

When you finally catch him, you slick his hair back again. Only to be greeted what indeed looks like a middle-sized scar. But why and how did this happen, why didn’t he just heal like he usually does?

“You really don’t know where this came from?”, he challenges you.

You blink a few times. What the hell is your husband talking about?

“Why would I know where this came from?”

“Because it was you, (y/n)?”, he playfully bites back.

You? Your mind races, searching for a single moment you ever hurt your husband. You were never really able to even hurt him, no matter how berserk you went in training. When was the last time you even wounded him? But wait, there was this one time you made him bleed, that one time when…

“This was when Yuji woke up-“

“EXACTLY!”, Satoru cries out and gives you a round of applause.

“But why did you keep it? You said you’d be able to heal it…”

“Because I didn’t want to. This scar right here”

Gently, he takes your hand in his and traces the soft scar with your fingertips.

“will always remind me of what a wonderful human being you are.”

Oh. Your eyes turn glossy in an instant, staring up at your loving husband while he gifts you with the most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen.

“Satoru”, you breathe out.

There is no time to waste. You wrap your longing arms around his tall frame tightly, aiming to never let him go again.

“Every time I look into the mirror, I think about my wonderful wife”, he mutters into your hair.

“Y’know, you could just take a picture of me or something-“

“No. I would rather just keep that scar of my wonderful wife smacking me over a student.”

You hit him playfully over his comment, a giggle escaping your precious lips.

“Come on, it wasn’t like that…”

“I’ll always tell the story like this.”

Tags: @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp@localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo

Dividers by @saradika 🤍

[ellecdc]

I’ve been thinking about a Remus (or ig any ship that includes him?) x metamorphmagus!reader who is always turning into other people in order to mess with people. despite them being very good at acting and visually/audibly indistinguishable from their target, once the moon comes close and his senses are heightened Remus is able to recognize them from scent alone. I also think he’s observant enough that even when his senses are as normal as they can be, he is able to notice little ticks and habits that break through the disguise. I don’t think he would ruin their fun, observing and if he isn’t in pain even helping with their mischief.

It’s just such a cute little concept to me, and I think it could be fun to play with, so I would love to see if you can come up with a little Drabble or something about it! Thank you mother ❤️ I love confident and mischievous readers with quiet but enabling characters

this was a cute concept! thanks for the request! also, I didn't intend for this to be Potter!reader, but with the way the story went it ended up feeling like it had to be potter reader hahaha

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader who is a metamorphmagus [800 words]

CW: fem!reader, 'your mama' insults, talking about students getting it on in a broom closet

“Never thought I’d find myself happier to see this Black than the other one.” Barty Crouch Junior drawled as he sauntered into the library looking innocent for all intents and purposes - but Remus knew better.

“Sod off, Junior.” Sirius sneered back as he glared at the Slytherin from behind his book. 

“Oh, someone’s getting off, I can assure you.” He jeered; a mischievous sparkle shining in his eye giving Remus not nearly enough time to prepare for the coming theatrics. 

“Oh? Could you hear me and your mum last night?” Sirius replied haughtily, turning a page of his book for show. “I’ll try to make sure we’re quieter next time, but she’s a screamer.” 

Barty simply hummed as he dragged a finger across the back of a chair; expression glowing like he was simply loving this. “Are family members not off limits then, Black? Because if that’s the case, someone really ought to tell Reg and Potter that there's no need to be rutting against each other in the third floor broom closet like a couple of ne’er-do-wells.”

Sirius was standing in record time; his chair grating across the floors before landing with a thunk and his book (prop) laying long forgotten.

“You’re not serious.” Sirius spat menacingly, a true testament to how riled up he got over his brother and best friend (even though the two had been publicly dating for almost two months now) that he didn’t even bother censoring himself against the verb form of his name.

“Deadly.” Barty smirked, and that was all it took for Sirius to go racing off into the castle to cause a bigger scene than either Regulus or James had been prior to the announcement of their secret tryst. 

The library returned to its prior volume as Remus watched 'Barty' simply stare after the last place Sirius could be seen. 

“That’s not nice, dove.” Remus chided gently, though he didn’t bother hiding his smirk as he stared back down at his book.

“Whatever do you mean, Lupin?” You sneered back, but you were wearing a beaming smile that told him clearly you knew the ruse was up. 

“James has been trying very hard to make sure he isn’t throwing his relationship with Regulus in Sirius’ face.” Remus explained tiredly, though it was all for show. 

“And James has been making it very hard for me to not want to stab myself with a quill during quidditch practices.” You pouted as you took the seat across from him.

“All this over quidditch drills?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

You didn’t break his gaze nor the pout of your lips as you added “and he ate the last of my fizzing whizzbees.” 

Remus hummed in understanding. “An egregious crime, certainly.”

“Right? What would you have done if he’d eaten all your chocolate?”

“Nothing short of murder; he’d be out the dormitory window.”

“See, I knew you’d get it.” You replied with a smirk, though your eyes turned soft as you looked him over.

“Be nice to your brother.” He murmured quietly, earning a dramatic groan as you threw your head back in exasperation.

“I don’t have to be nice to him, he’s my brother.” 

“What would your mum say?” He asked as he leaned back in his chair and held his book against his lips to hide the smile on his face.

You groaned again and looked over at him nonplussed. “To be nice to my brother.” You offered back in monotone.

He lowered his book so you could see his beaming smile, causing you to launch forward in an attempt to swipe his book from him only for him to catch your wrist instead.

“How did you even know it was me? I thought I had the impression down pat.” You murmured quietly, face now inches from his.

“You certainly look like Junior.” Remus conceded as he gave you a once over. “But he would have never let that comment about his mum fly.”

You let out a bark of laughter that Remus knew to be only yours. “That’s true, I suppose. I’ll do better next time.”

Remus gave you a shake of his head in faux admonishment as he leaned closer to you. “I’ll always recognise my sweet girl.” He murmured, massaging the inside of your wrist that he was holding captive with his thumb. “I’d recognise you by smell alone.” 

Your gaze turned hungry as your eyes flit down to his lips and then back up again. 

But Remus pulled away before you could connect your lips to his.

“Do not kiss me as Barty Crouch Junior.” He deadpanned, causing you to let out raucous laughter that got you more than a few shush’s from surrounding tables before he watched you melt back into yourself.

Remus loved your mischief, but this was by far his favourite version of you.

[sunniques]

— 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !

➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: being a spoiled brat means you hate to share. you learn that your stepdad has the same affliction.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, age gap, reader can be picked up by seungcheol, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, breeding kink, spanking, oral sex (m), pussy slaps, nipple play, unprotected sex, riding, squirting, creampies, overstimulation

➺ WC: 6.1k

NOTE: PLF MASTERLIST. don’t like, don’t read.

Something Seungcheol learned about you early on is that you don’t like to share. It’s a quality he’s never liked on other people, but with you it’s different. Instead of hating that part of you, he enabled it. In fact, he enabled it so much that you always get so jealous whenever he spends any time with your mom. It doesn’t matter if it’s an insignificant amount of time, you aways let him know how much you hate it.

Honestly, he thinks it’s really fucking cute. Especially because you don’t ever try to hide your possessiveness.

You’re a spoiled brat, which means you have a habit of taking things you want regardless of the timing and circumstances. That’s why Seungcheol isn’t all that surprised when you throw yourself on him on a random afternoon even though your mom is home.

The three of you had been watching a movie like a regular family when his wife gets a call from her boss that interrupts everything. She doesn’t hesitate to get up and go to the kitchen, all too happy that work was cutting into her family time. Not that you cared. This was the sort of thing you had been hoping for.

Your mom was gone for all of two minutes when you decide to stick your hand down your stepdad’s sweats. Seungcheol holds back a groan when you eagerly start to rub his bare cock. He’s been going commando lately because he knows that you’re always ready to get your hands on his dick.

“Princess.” Seungcheol hisses, words slightly scolding. “Behave. Your mom will be back any minute.”

You know he doesn’t really care. Otherwise he would’ve actually tried to stop you from pulling his cock out of his pants. Seungcheol’s dick throbs in your hand when you give him a devious smirk. His fat tip is already oozing with precum, and you smear it up and down his throbbing organ, slowly stroking his cock just the way he likes it. He tosses his head back on the couch with a quiet groan, unable to hide how much he enjoys your touch.

“I just want to make you feel good, daddy.”

In reality, you want to show him how much better you are than your mom. The other night you heard moans coming from the master bedroom, and you had felt bitter and jealous ever since. These jealousy driven actions were only the start of a long game of teasing and revenge you had planned for your dear stepdad.

“Want you to fuck me, daddy.” You quietly moan in his ear. “I need that big cock inside me. Want you to stretch me open and stuff me full of your cum until I can’t think.”

His eyes are entirely dark as he sets them on you. Based on the heated look alone, you know he wants the exact same thing. So with a sly smirk, you lean down to take his thick cock into your mouth.

Seungcheol’s mouth drops open in pleasure when he feels your hot mouth bobbing up and down his dick. You’re eager in your movements, moaning and gagging on his cock like it’s your favorite lollipop.

“Honey!” His wife’s voice doesn’t deter you. If anything, you take him deeper into your throat. “I won’t be able to watch the rest of the movie with you and Y/N. I have to hop on an emergency conference call. I’ll be upstairs!”

Seungcheol turns his head slightly, hoping your mom doesn’t notice the sudden color he’s gotten in his cheeks. “How long will you be?”

His wife doesn’t bother looking up from her phone as she goes towards the stairs. “Maybe an hour or two. Don’t know. You guys have fun.”

She’s so oblivious that she doesn’t realize you’re no where to be seen. You smirk around Seungcheol’s cock, pussy throbbing at the fact that you’re sucking your stepdad’s cock while your mom is right there.

Seungcheol knows he’s a sick pervert. His wife is upstairs working while he’s downstairs, undressing her cute little daughter. He can’t really care though. Not when he has you sinking down on his cock. The thrilling salaciousness of it all only turns him on.

You’ve been riding him within an inch of his life for a good fifteen minutes, and it’s only now that you’re starting to get close. How you two have managed to be somewhat quiet is beyond him.

“D-Daddy, fuck.” You whine, slumping forward on his strong chest. “Feels so good. I’m gonna cum.”

“I know, princess. You’re making daddy feel good too.” He says as he bucks his hips up so his cock grinds against your g-spot until you’re squealing and bouncing on his lap all over again.

He loves the noises you make for him. It drives the urge to get you to cream on his dick. “You’ve been torturing me, baby. Keeping me from this juicy cunt.”

“I was j-jealous.” You manage to slur out, hips grinding into his. “Hate when you’re with my mom. Don’t want you fucking her too.”

Seungcheol laughs meanly. His hands smooth down your sweaty back before they settle on your hips. “My little brat was jealous?” He coos, cock throbbing in delight. “Mad at daddy for helping out your poor mom? I couldn’t leave her hanging, baby. She’s almost as needy as you are.”

You’ll make him regret his words, but for now all you can do is moan and leave scratches down his chest to mark him as yours. “I don’t want to share.”

“Maybe one last time.” Your stepdad goads, loving the petulant little frown you give him.

“No!” You whine loudly, hips swiveling roughly. “You’re mine, daddy. Only mine.”

Seungcheol laughs again, abs flexing as he thrusts up into your dripping pussy. Your cunt flutters and clings to his fat cock in delight. Loud squelching and the aroma of sex permeates the living room as he fucks you deep and hard. You’re close to cumming, and your stepdad knows it.

“I am yours.” Seungcheol agrees as he starts to plant wet, open mouthed kisses on your neck. “Daddy’s cock is all yours. I just like riling you up, princess. You get so tight around me.”

“Daddy!” You mewl, satisfied that he was placating you like always. “I’m gonna cum!”

“That’s it, baby.” Seungcheol hisses, hands grabbing the fat of your ass to help you fuck your cunt down on his dick. “Cream on my cock with your tight little pussy. Fuck. You have the best hole I’ve ever fucked.”

Your stepdad has to kiss you to muffle you loud moans as you tremble and cum all over his cock. Seungcheol groans into your mouth, squeezing your ass as you move your hips faster and faster. Your gummy walls are suffocating his cock, and he can’t get enough of it. The sound of his wet balls slapping against your ass fills the room, and he briefly wonders if you two are being too loud.

“Fuck!” You moan as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Keep your voice down.” Seungcheol chastises as he slaps your ass, fucking his cock up into you rougher than before. “Don’t want your mom to hear us, do you, baby?

You wrap your arms around his neck and start jumping on his cock with newfound vigor. That’s the last thing on your mind, and you know it’s the same for him.

“I don’t give a fuck if she hears us.” You choke out through a filthy moan. “S-Shit. I want her to hear how good her husband fucks me.”

His thick cock throbs at your words nasty words. Seungcheol’s eyes are dark as a deep growl vibrates in his chest. He hooks his arms under your thighs and abruptly stands. You cry out as his cock slides deeper into you. His heavy balls slam into your ass as he starts to harshly thrust into you. Your stepdad’s hands go to your ass as he fucks you on his cock faster than before.

“This is what my cockhungry little brat wanted, huh?” Seungcheol grunts, as you leave a white stream of cream on the length of his cock. “Wanted me to fuck you hice and hard like a filthy whore. Don’t even care that your mom can come down any second and see how addicted you are to your stepdad’s cock.”

“Yes, daddy, yes!” You cry out wantonly as his leaking tip slams against your sweet spot. “Fuck me like the nasty slut that I am! Fuck. Want your wife to see how hard you get for me. How much better you like this tight little pussy!”

Seungcheol keeps bouncing you on his cock over and over until lewd squelching and the sound of skin slapping together is all that can be heard in the living room. At this point, neither of you care that your mom can come downstairs at any time and catch you. In fact, that risky fact is what’s turning the both of you on so much. The fact that she could walk in on Seungcheol bouncing you on his cock is driving you both closer to the edge.

“My bratty little girl just can’t get enough of this cock, hm?” Seungcheol’s deep voice is low in your ear. “So fucking desperate for daddy to fuck you full of cum, aren’t you, princess?"”

“Want it so bad, daddy.” You mewl out, your second orgasm abruptly hitting and wetting his cock even more. “Want your cum now!”

So demanding, as always. But Seungcheol loves it. He fucks his cock into you until he reaches his own climax. He groans your name as he shoots his hot load into your young, fertile pussy. The very thought of you getting pregnant only has him driving his cock deeper into you, eager to breed you.

You force your tongue into your stepdad’s mouth, moaning and whining at the overstimulation you're starting to feel. Seungcheol sits you two down, not willing to get you off his cock just yet. Apparently, you feel the same way because as soon as he leans back on the couch you start bouncing on him again.

“Goddamn, baby.”

Seungcheol can’t get over how good you feel around him, how pretty you look as your face contorts in pleasure. His fingernails dig into the flesh of your ass as you keep moving on his cock. Fuck, he really loves the way your cunt wraps around him and how you squeeze around him when his fingers begin to toy with your clit. Drunk on lust and hot sex, words spill from his mouth before he can stop them.

“Fucking shit. Need to put a baby in you.”

You’ve known about his breeding kink since the first time he fucked you, but it still drives you wild each time he growls it out so ravenously. His hips start to move, slowly taking control with a primal need to fuck you full of cum. Seungcheol’s mouth wraps around one of your hard nipples as his thrusts grow needier and rougher.

God, your pretty tits have been tempting him with the way they’ve been bouncing in his face. Your stepdad sucks and licks eagerly, his tongue flicking over the bud. He’s driving you insane, hitting every right spot expertly.

Seungcheol’s mouth pops off your nipple lewdly. “Such pretty fucking tits. Want to see them swollen and full of milk.”

His nasty words have your pussy clamping down on him until he’s groaning and growling into your neck. “Cum inside me, daddy. Fu-Fuck. Fill me with your cum and knock me up!”

That’s exactly what he does. Your stepdad keeps fucking you on the couch until it’s stained with your mixed releases. Neither of you feel guilty about it either, and as he follows you to your room, you can’t help but feel smug that he’s going to keep fucking you even while his wife is in the other room working.

Being petty is something you and Seungcheol have in common. However, he never thought you’d be petty enough to flaunt your new boy toy in front of him. You do it so seamlessly that anyone might think you actually don’t know what you’re doing or how it makes him feel. It’s maddening because he can tell how much you’re enjoying pissing him off.

You bring the boy over a handful of times, always so affectionate with him when you do. Your mom seems to like him, but he can’t even pretend to. Especially not when he hears you sneak him in when you think they’re both asleep. He fucking hates it, and it’s not until the night of his anniversary that he finally gets to do something about it.

His wife has gone off to another business trip in spite of knowing that their anniversary would fall around the same time. That’s part of the reason he doesn’t feel sorry that he breaks his promise to her. Instead of flying out to meet his wife to celebrate their anniversary like he promised her weeks ago, he’s in bed with her daughter.

Seungcheol knows he’s an asshole. Not only for leaving his wife alone on such a special day, but for not letting her know he wasn’t coming until after she got all dolled up to meet him at a fancy restaurant. He doesn’t care, though. At all. Not when he has his stepdaughter’s hot little cunt wrapped around his cock. It makes it easy to ignore the incessant buzzing coming from his phone.

“Does that stupid boy fuck you this good?”

By this point, you’re too fucked out to answer—too full of cock, to be exact. Your pretty cunt is stuffed so snugly around his dick that he can feel every pull of your soft walls. Seungcheol is entranced with the way your puffy lips part for him. How they drag along his length and coat his thick cock with your sweet cream.

Your stepdad loves seeing you like this. The sight of you on your back with your nipples swollen, all puffy and glistening with remnants of spit is enough to drive him crazy. Your legs are bent back and your lashes are wet with tears. It’s the prettiest fucking thing he’s ever seen.

Seungcheol growls a bit when you don’t immediately answer. He grabs your hips and roughly pulls you to meet his movements. His harsh, deep thrusts make your body bounce and the sheets wrinkle around you. “Answer me, brat.”

“N-No, daddy.” You mewl out as he literally fucks the cum from his previous orgasm out of you.

“Of course he doesn’t.” Seungcheol’s voice is rough and mean as he snaps his hips harder. “Only I can fuck you this good. That’s why you’re always so needy for my cock.”

You nod dumbly, so lost in pleasure in the way he’s stretching you out. “Only want your cock, daddy. Fucking love it!”

“I know you do, princess.” He groans, snapping his hips against the plush flesh of your thighs.

Seungcheol’s lustful gaze is glued to where you’re sucking him in. His muscles tighten as he fucks you deeper until you’re crying out for him all over again. He usually doesn’t fuck you so brutally, but he’s overwhelmed by the need to claim you and show you exactly who you belong to that his inhibitions quickly dissipate.

Jealousy starts to simmer in his chest as he thinks about anyone else fucking you and getting to see you all vulnerable and wet. Particularly, he thinks about the pathetic kid you were flaunting in his face. Seungcheol knows he’s better than him. He can get you to cum harder than some inexperienced boy.

“Tell me you’re my good girl. I want to hear you say it. Tell me that you love me and only me.”

You obey, moaning the words to him as your cunt tightens on his fat cock.

“God, I fucking love you.” His large hands tighten on your hips as he abruptly slows his pace so he doesn’t cum again.

Seungcheol slows his thrusts into gentle grinds so he can savor the feeling of your wet pussy. He leans over your body, squishing your tits against his broad chest as he begins to suck on your neck.

“Fuck. Can’t get enough of your sweet little cunt. Need it wrapped around me all the time.” He tells you between sloppy kisses. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, princess? Always staying by my side so you can have this cock whenever you want.”

Your stepdad’s pace picks up again, and you cry out in pleasure. His leaking cock is reaching so deep inside you that you can barely think. Luckily, you manage to reply in time.

“Fuck yeah.” You moan wantonly as your stomach tightens at a partially harsh thrust of his cock. “Want to be your cockslut all the time.”

Seungcheol groans loudly, biting down on your flesh to mark you. Your stepdad’s strong hands push your thighs further apart to fuck you deeper. You mewl for him as he keeps pushing into your depths. Your juices are making a mess, dampening his abdomen and thighs, making every plunge of his cock sound more lewd than the last.

“Such a dirty little brat.” Seungcheol moans, pounding into you with ravenous desire. “Fuck. That stupid kid doesn’t know what a needy little slut you are for your stepdad’s cock. Doesn’t know that this tight pussy belongs to me.”

You nod along to his words, filthy moans mixing in with the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your skin. “It’s all yours, daddy. Only yours.”

“Damn fucking right. It’s fucking mine. You’re my girl.”

Seungcheol’s fingers squeeze into the fat of your thighs as he smashes his mouth against yours. Your stepdad is greedy and sloppy with his movents, drinking up your moans like he’s starved for them. When he pulls his messy mouth from yours, he sees the lust in your eyes. It’s dark and wild.

“He doesn’t fuck me like you do.”

Seungcheol can’t hide his smirk. He groans, pushing your legs to the apex of your flexibility so the head of his cock can push against that sensitive, spongy spot deep inside you. “Of course he can’t, baby. No one will ever be able to fuck you like I do.”

He proves his point by moving in a nearly inhuman pace, cock burying into you so viciously it makes you scream. Nails dig into the rolling muscles of his back, his skin changing color as you drag your nails down his spine. Seungcheol is amazed at how well you can take his roughness. It’s like your pussy is happy to absorb all of his savage-like jealousy.

“God, daddy. Gonna—Gonna...”

“Gonna what, princess?” Seungcheol coos with a mean smirk.

Your cunt sucks him in tighter, the prominent veins of his cock brushing against your walls deliciously. It’s like your head is swimming, and you can barely speak. Again, you manage to because it’s what your daddy wants.

“C-cum! So close, daddy! Ah, ah, ah!” Your head falls to the side as you continue to whine, stomach tightening and spasming as your stepdad barrels into you.

It’s highly likely that he’ll leave bruises on your skin from how hard his hands are wrapped around you. From the rough way he’s been with you, there’s no doubt that your cunt will throb with the memory of him for days.

“Again?” Seungcheol hums, satisfied. “Dirty little brat. Love creaming on your stepdaddy’s cock, huh?”

You nod your pretty little head against the pillow, eyes falling shut as you get lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. Seungcheol goes harder, growling at you to keep your eyes open and on him. He’s sort of crazy, and he knows there’s no way you could be thinking about that kid, but he needs to know there’s no possibility of that.

“Cum for me, princess.” It’s more of a command, and you can’t not obey.

You let out a high-pitched cry when an overwhelming orgasm consumes you. Seungcheol keeps fucking you even when he feels the first milking compression of your cunt. He has to grit his teeth and will himself not to heed the call of his own orgasm. He just wants to feel you, wants to watch you lose your fucking mind over his cock.

And you do. Liquid spurts from your pussy as your stomach clenches and unclenches rhythmically to match the trembling of your thighs. Slick gushes from your cunt and gathers around the base of his cock. Your face is hot as your lips part in a loud moan. Seungcheol moans along with you as your back arches into him. He can literally see you fall into the abyss of pleasure he threw you into.

“That’s it, princess.” He coos, unable to hold back his own orgasm at this point. Hot ropes of his cum shoot into you, painting every inch of your walls. “What a good girl—such a good fucking girl. Oh, baby...”

The last bit of his words are spoken sweetly. Your stepdad smooths his hands down your shaking thighs before he gently lets them go. They fall to the bed as he brings one of his hands to caress your soft cheek and the other to rub soothing circles on your sensitive clit. Seungcheol keeps fucking his cum deeper into you, the aftershocks of your orgasm hum against his cock and trickle down his spine.

“Goddamn. You always milk daddy’s cock like a cockhungry slut.” He licks his lips as another gush of slick pours out of you. “Shit, baby. You like it that much?”

Seungcheol is gently rocking into you, murmuring sweet things against your cheek. You’re panting gently as he fucks you through the remainder of your orgasm. His hips slowly come to a stop, and you can tell he’s trying to regain his own senses. Now that you’re slowly coming down from your high, you think that this is a perfect time to goad him like he did to you.

“You’re too tired to go again?” You hum, feigning disappointment. “I know he wouldn’t be. If this is how you planned to prove to me that your dick is the only one I should be taking, then...”

Seungcheol’s gaze darkens in half a second. He’s aware of what you’re doing, but jealousy will cloud reason every time. You just squirted all over him, and yet the naughty little smirk you’re wearing is enough to let him know you’re not satiated at all. Good, because he isn’t either.

“I’m not done with you, brat.”

His cock is throbbing inside you, aching to be pushed in deeper, but controls himself—for now. Seungcheol plans to let you come down from your high completely just so he can give you another. He’s going to let you keep breaking over and over again until you’re spent and smothered in his cum.

Smoothly, your stepdad sits back and pulls you into his lap. He keeps you lodged on his cock all while pressing tender kisses against your shoulder. You whine out in pleasure as he licks and suck on one of your sensitive nipples until you finally come to your senses.

“Fuck. You’re so strong, daddy.” You say while caressing his broad shoulders, fingertips smoothing over the well-crafted muscle.

“Of course.” He says, ego inflating. “Don’t forget that your stepdad is a real man. Not like that boy you’ve been fucking.”

You can’t think to respond because Seungcheol sinks you further on his lap, forcing you take in his cock deeper until his balls are flush against your ass. He cups your ass cheeks in each palm, lifting you up and down his cock way too easily. Your head falls into the crook of his neck as he starts to use you like his personal fucktoy. With a loud moan, you slide your hot tongue up the length of his neck, making him groan. You moan and pant into his skin as he warms up your pussy for another round.

“Don’t you forget that, sweetheart.” Seungcheol’s voice is low and possessive as his arm coils around your back. He buries his nose into your shoulder and lets his hips do the work to keep you bouncing on his cock. “No one can do it like your stepdad. I know everything you like—know how to fuck you right.”

“Oh yeah?” You hum as your cunt squeezes around him. Your hands tangle in his hair, lips pressing needy kisses to his lips. “Then prove it. Fuck me good and hard until I break.”

Your stepfather growls at the thought. Since you’re such a spoiled little brat, he’s going to give you exactly what you want.

Seungcheol lifts you off of his cock, hissing at how much his dick aches without your pussy around him. He quickly flips you onto your stomach and pulls you onto your knees with ease. He’s drunk on lust as he slaps his cockhead against your slippery folds, lining himself up against your needy hole once again.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Seungcheol groans deeply as he slides his leaking tip up and down your dripping slit. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

You turn your head to the side, cheek resting against the sheets as you catch his eyes. They’re full of scorching lust, and something that looks a lot like a teasing dare. “Don’t act like you don’t want to. We both know you’re a sick perv who wants to fuck his stepdaughter like she’s nothing more than a dirty slut.” Your smirk is tempting. “I can handle whatever you give me, daddy. Promise.”

That’s enough to crack his resolve. Seungcheol is consumed by an overwhelming need to show you how good he can ruin you. And he is. He’s going to show you that he can fuck you like no other man can.

You yelp in pleasure when his large hand comes down on your ass. His cock jumps at your response. The way your knees spread wider as your tight hole clenches right before his eyes is turning him on wildly. A fresh stream of arousal drips down your thighs, letting him know you feel the same way.

“Oh, you just fucking wait, princess.” Seungcheol growls, completely gone. “Daddy’s gonna make a fucking mess out of you.”

He repeats the motion, harder this time. A resounding smack echoes in the room followed by your high-pitched cries that make his cock leak and throb. Your plump ass cheeks are aching, but in the best way. Seungcheol can feel the smarting below his palm, but you’re shaking your ass at him to let him know you want more. That you need him to use you in the way he’s always wanted.

“Naughty little brat. Making daddy jealous on purpose.” He spits venomously, spanking you a few times in a row, groaning at how your flesh jiggles against his palms.

“Fu–Fuck!” Your voice turns into a whine as you bury your face into the sheets.

“You know I don’t fucking share.” Seungcheol thrusts forward, the hard ridge of his cock sliding between the gooey mess of your folds. “Just had to rile me up like the spoiled little slut you are.”

“S-Shit, daddy! Like it—Mmmh!—Fuck, ah!”

Seungcheol gives you another harsh smack, letting his hand rest on your ass this time so he can smooth his palm over the raw skin. The laugh he lets out is mean and condescending. “Of course you do. You like everything daddy gives you because you’re a nasty little whore.”

“Want more.” You arch your back, inviting him in. “Want you inside me!”

Seungcheol’s grin is wolfish as he takes your hips in his hands. His thumbs caress the tender flesh as he presses the head of his cock back inside your cunt. “Such a needy brat.”

Your stepdad’s moan mixes in with yours as he sinks inside of you. His movements are slow and purposeful, taking his time to feel every inch of your gummy walls as you stretch open around his dick. When he bottoms out, balls flush against your swollen clit, he closes his eyes to savor the feeling of your clamping down on him. He’s going to ruin you, make it so no boy can ever compete with him.

You cry out loudly when he starts to ram his cock into your hot cunt, his pace brutal and unforgiving. His hips smash against yours as his cockhead bruises into your most intimate, tender spot.

“Daddy!” You whine out between plunges of his cock. “Fu-Fuck! You’re so d-deep!”

Seungcheol groans when your velvety walls tighten around him. “Dirty little brat. You like daddy using you like a little cocksleave, huh?”

All you can do is nod, body bouncing with his hard, powerful thrusts. Seungcheol smirks when he realizes that you’ve become putty in his hands. His large hands spread your cheeks apart so he can watch how your cunt wraps around him with every thrust. It’s a mesmerizing sight. The way your pretty pussy is being molded by the prominent veins on his dick, thick cream building at his base and sticking to his skin.

Your pussy throbs every time his balls smack into your clit, sending pleasure racing up the slope of your back. Seungcheol feels an intense amount of ecstasy coiling in his stomach that fogs his thoughts. He gives you one last cruel smack to your ass, the loud noise echoing in his ears.

“That’s it, baby. Take daddy’s cock like the good little slut you are.” Seungcheol’s groan is guttural as he pounds into you roughly. His thrusts are brutish and fast, leaking cockhead slamming against your cervix each time he pushes in.

“Isn’t it so much better when daddy fucks you?” Seungcheol coos, loving how you’re beginning to go dumb on his cock.

His smirk is triumphant and filthy when you nod your head. You moan for him, weakly meeting his rough thrusts to get his cock deeper inside you. “That’s right, princess. I never wanna see you with any other man ever again. You understand?”

“Yes, daddy!” You moan, loving how possessive and assertive he sounds.

Your creaminess soaks his fat cock and your inner thighs. The brutal pace of his cock pushes your arousal out. It drips down to your pussy where his balls continuously slap against the soft skin.

“Good girl—my good little brat.”

Seungcheol’s sweet praise has you clenching around his dick. Your stepdad lets out a deep groan before chuckling softly. “So fucking tight. Pretty pussy can’t get enough of my cock.”

You moan loudly, deepening your arch. “Fuck, daddy. Love it when you stretch me open on your cock!”

“Yeah? Then why’d you let that boy fuck you? Tell me.” Seungcheol demands, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.

You cry out each time, the pleasure blooming into that a familiar feeling of ecstasy. All you can do is babble unintelligently. Seungcheol grunts deeply—an additive to the wet, forceful sounds of sex. Your cunt throbs with every push of his cock, wet and worn as he seeks absolution inside of you. All he can focus on is your warm cunt as he fucks into you like a beast.

“Wanted to ma-make you j-jealous.” You finally whine out.

Seungcheol finds your confession adorable, but it makes his cock throb and his blood boil all at the same time. Now, your stepdad’s mind is solely focused on stuffing you full with his cum until you break. The only measure of time is the tempo of his cock plunging into you. By now he’s lost control, primitive instincts blooming in his balls and begging to burst.

“Naughty little brat. I’m gonna show you that no one can make you cum like I can.” Seungcheol laughs meanly. His addiction to feeling you orgasm on his cock makes him sound deranged. “Shit. I want you to milk me—take all the cum from these balls.”

You cry out when he slides a hand under you, fingers immediately rubbing your throbbing clit. “Oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! It’s too much, daddy!”

It’s so hard to think straight when his thick cock is pummeling into you relentlessly. You’re on the brink of your third orgasm already that it seems like they’ve all bled together.

“You’re gonna take what daddy gives you, baby. Take it all like a good little fucktoy.” Seungcheol groans when your pussy constricts around him again. “Fuck. Never letting you go after this. You’re all mine.”

Your moans are filthy and loud, loving how he’s claiming you and your cunt. He can tell how much you like it because he can feel your puffy bud drip against his fingers. Seungcheol keeps swirling his fingers in your wet mess. He’s rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit until your body is thrashing and your screams echo through the room.

“Daddy! Fuck, I’m gonna—ah!”

The suck of your cunt is euphoric, all pulsing and hot. Seungcheol groans in delight as you cover him with your release. “Yeah, that’s it, princess. Soak daddy’s cock.”

Your stepdad continues his assault on your little hole despite the sudden tightness. He loves that you continue to gush around his cock, leaving a stain of your sweet cream around the base. You’re stretched out more than you ever thought was possible, but it feels so damn good.

“I’m gonna have to stuff this pussy full every day.” His promise is growled filthily, enjoying how your cunt spasms around his thick cock. “Otherwise you’re gonna go around begging someone else to do it.”

Somehow, his thrusts grow more powerful. You wail every time he drives in and out of you, quickly reaching another climax. This one is much different, though. It's more intense and nearly knocks the air out of you. You soak your stepdad’s cock even more now, leaving it dripping and ruining his sheets. He groans loudly, watching as you squirt all over his cock. Your eyes squeeze shut once dark spots take over your vision. Each time Seungcheol strokes your g-spot, another gush of liquid spurts from your core.

“God, you’re fucking hot, baby. Making a mess all over daddy’s cock.” Seungcheol, moans in delight, hand trading the soft rubs for harsh smacks.

The hits have you jolting, cries and moans of pleasure filling the room. Squelching sounds fill the room along with the heady smell of sex. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your pussy flutters around the thick cock splitting you open.

“That’s it, baby. Your pretty little pussy was made to take my cock.” Your stepdad is so far gone, feeling his own climax approaching.

His balls are heavy, and they’re aching to be emptied. Seungcheol feels his cock twitch and throb inside your warm, wet hole. Your pussy is practically begging him to fill you up with his seed, and he does exactly that. With one final shove, he bottoms out inside you and stills. The world stops like he does, a roar of your name deep from within his chest piercing the thick air of the room as he comes undone.

Seungcheol’s cum pours into you, coating your walls and taking up the space his cock hasn’t covered. Thick ropes of cum paint your pretty pussy white. His fat cock twitches and throbs, and almost feels like it’s growing inside of you. Of course, his cock is still unforgiving, now grinding into your core as pearls of his cum gush from the tight sleeve of your cunt around him.

You whimper and mewl into the sheets, loving at the feeling of being so fucking full. There’s nothing more satisfying than the feeling of his hot cum spilling out of your pussy and dripping down your thighs.

Seungcheol reluctantly pulls out of you, mesmerized with the sight of your orgasm and his cum leaking out of your tight little hole. You’ve made a mess on your mom’s favorite sheets, but he’s never liked them better than he does now.

Tender hands smooth over your ass and your trembling thighs before you’re carefully rolled onto your back. Soft lips cover yours, swallowing your needy mewls and tasting you greedily. Seungcheol presses soft pecks to your lips as one of his hands slowly caresses your spent body.

“Love you, my possessive little brat.”

You hum against his lips with a triumphant smirk, satisfied that he feels just as possessive over you.

[froggiewrites]

Wanting

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You have never wanted anyone more than you want Sanji. You don't want to admit it, but as you end up alone together on a new island, the universe seems determined to make you. Warnings: Smut, There Was Only One Bed, Possessiveness (a bit from both Sanji and Reader), Reader really matching Sanji's energy on the horniness here Word Count: 5.6k Crossposted from Ao3

You had never wanted anyone more than you had wanted Sanji.

You hated to admit that tragic, embarrassing fact, but it was true all the same. You wanted him. You had always known you’d liked Sanji, from the moment you met and he threw himself at your feet, knew you found him endearing and silly, but wanting him? That was different. Wanting was real. Wanting was demanding. Wanting had you pacing the deck after yet another dirty dream about your silly little cook, trying to calm down enough to be able to face him at breakfast.

Your bare feet hit the grass of the Sunny’s deck as you pray that this will pass, that you’ll be able to see your dear friend without yearning for him so deeply it threatens to rip a hole in your chest, but every time you close your eyes you can still feel his lips against yours and see his face twisted in pleasure. You huff with frustration, throwing yourself down to lay on your back and stare at the sky. Maybe the morning sun will burn out your retinas and you won’t have to worry about seeing his face at all anymore.

“You alright down there?” His voice is still raspy from sleep, and your eyes shoot open as you use all the willpower you have not to rub your thighs together.

“Sanji!” Your voice is an octave higher than you would have liked to admit. “Hi! Good morning! Um, yeah. I’m uh–I’m fine. Peachy.”

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about his hands reaching down to grab you. Don’t think about how his dick would feel in your mouth.

Fuck. Damnit.

“Are you sure? You’re a little red.” You finally look up to see his face, his hair a little mussed and his eyes softened with concern. You want to kiss him. God, you want to kiss him.

“I’m okay, I’m just, uh. A little hot. That’s all.” You focus anywhere but his eyes, those beautiful kind eyes, because you know if you focus on his eyes you’ll do something you’ll regret. Or maybe you wouldn’t regret it at all, because you’d finally know what his lips feel like.

No. Not now. Not ever. You are not all hot and bothered over Sanji. Not your dear friend Sanji, who is looking at you with so much care it makes you physically ache.

“Do you want to come inside? I can make you something to cool you down.”

You picture being alone together in the kitchen, his practiced hands and talented fingers moving with such purpose as he slices and dices, just to make something to please you. You picture those fingers moving with a different purpose, working for a different pleasure. If you go in that kitchen you fear you’ll do something you can’t take back. “I’m alright! I just need to lay here.” Your voice definitely just audibly cracked.

His face falls a little at the idea that you won’t come with him. You try not to let your heart flutter at the idea he wants you around. That he wants you alone with him. “Alright, well come on in if you change your mind, okay? I’ll do–make. I’ll make anything you want.”

What was that?

Your imagination, surely.

“Of course, Sanji. I’ll let you know if I need you–anything.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

You stare at each other for a moment before he turns and walks into the kitchen without even a goodbye, and if you didn’t know better you would think the tips of his ears were red. Surely not, though.

You cover your face and groan, rolling onto your front to block out the world. You hear sets of footsteps pass as your other crewmates wake up and decide to leave you to your misery instead of asking. A small mercy, but one you’re grateful for.

Once you finally manage to drag yourself off of the ground, your thoughts filled with simple, unsexy things like cold showers and paint drying, you make your way to the kitchen for breakfast. You come in only on the tail end of the meal and conversation, hearing Nami’s voice dictating how things are going to go on the next island.

“—need to make sure we aren’t separated. There’s an island-wide curfew, and we need to make sure that none of us break it. We don’t want to risk drawing attention to ourselves.” You can’t see her face but you are familiar with the scathing side-eye she’s almost certainly giving Zoro and Luffy right now.

“Why are you looking at me?” Zoro’s voice is defensive in the way it only gets when he knows whatever he’s being accused of is inarguably true.

Nami sighs. “It’s too early for this. Anyway, we’re going to pair up to make sure no one gets stranded alone on the island just in case we miss curfew. I wrote all of our names on pieces of paper, and I’m going to draw–”

“Why do you get to draw?”

“Yeah I wanna draw! I’m the captain!”

“It doesn’t matter who–”

You tune them out for your sanity as you retrieve your plate from Sanji’s outstretched hands. He gives you a soft, sincere smile that cuts to your core. He looks so wonderful like that, when he isn’t trying to woo you and he’s just being…Sanji.

“I kept it warm for you.” He leans closer so you can hear him over the din of voices behind you. Your eyes are level with his chest, his shirt unbuttoned halfway so you can see his entire torso. You need to look away. You need to stop ogling.

You don’t.

“Thank you,” you murmur distractedly. You don’t know if you’re thanking him for the breakfast or for the clear view of his happy trail.

His chest gets closer, and you feel his warm breath against your ear. “Of course. Anything for you.” He’s so close. You could so easily put your lips against his neck. You could bite him right now, make him make such wonderful noises right here in front of everyone.

“Hey, are you two even listening?” Nami’s annoyed voice rings out from the table behind you.

You both stand at attention like navy soldiers the moment she calls for you. Her tone means business. That silly argument earlier seems like it soured her mood for the entire day.

“Of course, Nami!” Your tone rings false, and she gives you a dour look that you shrink under.

“Ugh. Whatever. Important bits: we’re staying paired up on this island. Be back before dark. Don’t draw attention to yourselves. Got it?”

“Yes, Nami!” You both chorus.

“Great. I’ll start pulling names.”

Your captain pouts. “But I–”

“I’m pulling names.”

“Awww.”

The pairs came quickly: Brook and Usopp, Franky and Robin, Luffy and Chopper, and Nami and Zoro (to Sanji’s audible displeasure). You laugh along with everyone else for just a moment at Sanji’s fit before you realize what it means.

“God, if it pisses you off that much then just switch partners with me!” Zoro’s voice is filled with annoyance, his eye turning to you.

Sanji pauses for a moment, his eyes finding yours, and you can see pure and utter euphoria hit him when he realizes. The fury at Zoro’s suggestion hits a moment after. “No way in hell, mosshead!”

The bickering continues, as it always does, and you try to calm your thoughts once again. A day alone with him. A date, perhaps. You imagine at first walking hand in hand while shopping, stopping in a cafe to enjoy together, and other simple domestic things that make a small lovesick smile make its way onto your face.

And then you remember your dream, hear his lovely voice cry out in a broken whine, and your silly daydreams turn to dark alleys and frantic, fumbling hands taking what they need before you’re caught. You imagine getting to run your hands down his torso, following the teasing trail of hair you saw earlier down, wrapping your hands around him and making him whimper.

You stop your thoughts because you are in front of an audience and are going to lose your sanity if you allow yourself another moment of this.

Sanji and Zoro have stopped fighting, and the crew is pairing off as everyone decides their tasks for today. Zoro has been designated Nami’s shopping bag holder, and his protests fall on deaf ears as the conversations continue without him. You and Sanji will be grocery shopping, of course. He has the list ready to go, which means all you need to do is keep him company and try not to get jealous when he inevitably hits on a stranger. You can do that, grit your teeth and give tight-lipped smiles that hopefully hide the taste of iron on your tongue. Maybe if you’re lucky she’ll reject him, refuse to give him the time of day, and he’ll turn to you as he licks his wounds. He’ll find comfort in you, and you’ll gladly give it. You can ease the sting of rejection as he eases the yearning ache in your chest.

As the crew moves to leave the kitchen, Zoro begins to lean over to you, presumably to make some gruff joke about how miserable your day will be with Sanji, wearing a smug grin hiding the boyish amusement he gets from teasing the man he would never admit is his friend. Before you can hear it, give him a soft laugh and a roll of the eyes, your vision is filled with the soft blue of a slightly unbuttoned shirt and there’s a large, gentle hand on the small of your back.

“I said hands off, mosshead.” Sanji’s voice holds more hostility than you’d expect. Most days even their worst of fights have an air of levity to them that they would never admit, but this has real anger behind it, venom spitting from his lips in a way you had never heard. The hand on your back presses firmly, commandingly, in a way that makes your knees weak. “Let’s go, angel.” His voice softens, then, not filled with the candied sweetness he saves for his usual flirtations, but the type of tender sincerity and affection saved only for a small inner circle you are forever grateful to be a part of.

“What, I can’t talk to her? Possessive pervert.” There’s less anger behind Zoro’s words and more confusion, but you can hardly hear it as the door slams firmly shut behind you. Sanji’s breathing is labored with anger, his shoulders drawn tight, but you hardly notice over the feeling of his fingertips on your back, brushing just above your ass, so close to moving lower. His hand moves to your hip instead, grabbing firmly, not enough to bruise but enough that you couldn’t leave if you wanted to.

“Sanji? Are you alright?” Your voice is hesitant as you try to keep the lust out of it, but he seems to take it as discomfort. His eyes widen, his hand immediately leaving you, and you can’t help but let out a soft whimper at the loss. He, of course, takes this as pain.

“Oh god, darling did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, I–”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sanji, I’m fine. I was just worried about you.” You give him a reassuring smile, teeth only slightly clenched from concentrating on anything other than how strong he felt, on how good it felt to be held, on the feeling that his fingerprints have been burned onto your skin even though the fabric of your shirt.

His face is troubled, his eyes watery from even the idea of hurting you, but he relaxes when you take his hand in yours, gently rubbing his knuckles with your thumb. “I’m fine. I just can’t stand the idea of you running off with mosshead and him getting you lost. He’d probably leave you alone in the woods somewhere.” The words ring falsely in your ears. He hates to admit it, but he trusts Zoro to protect you, no matter the situation. The safety of the crew is one of the few things they’ll always agree on. He does not and would never think Zoro would leave you for dead.

“He wouldn’t do that.”

Sanji goes quiet, unable to bring himself to disagree, to lie to your face a second time. What was he thinking? “Yeah, I…I know.” His voice is weak and strained, but before you can pry further he starts to walk ahead, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket, clearly shutting down the conversation. You stare longingly at his back for a moment, at his broad shoulders, before following in his footsteps.

Shopping is tense, at first, as he tries and fails to calm down, but you eventually find a rhythm. You both fall into each other, a brush of the hands here, a hand on the arm there, the pull so magnetic you cannot help but follow it. Eventually you find yourselves walking hip to hip, you holding his arm, pressing it to your chest incredibly deliberately as he tries and fails to pretend he doesn’t notice. He keeps sneaking glances at you out of the corner of his eye, and you revel in the attention, preening under his wanting gaze. Your thoughts are about nothing but him, nothing but his shining blue eyes lingering on your chest, nothing but the hard stops he keeps making so your tits press even harder into his bicep.

He’s looking at you. God, he’s looking at you, no one else. Your chest tightens at the idea it could always be like this, that he could be yours.

Neither of you notice how late it’s gotten until the sun is already more than halfway behind the horizon. You’re reluctant to break the tension as he pulls you closer when you walk past a group of rowdy drunks, but you remember Nami’s warnings and your blood runs a little cold.

“Um, Sanji? Do you know what time it is?”

He checks his watch with no sense of urgency, clearly not grasping the situation. “It’s almost nine, why?”

“Curfew is at nine thirty, isn’t it? And the ship is…” you think for a moment, “about an hour away?”

He stops in his tracks, causing your chest to press against him again. “Ah.”

A beat of silence.

“Nami’s going to kill us.”

“I think you’re right.”

“The marines will notice us if we’re out past curfew.”

“Right again, my dear.”

“We’re fucked.”

“Mhm.”

More silence, stretching further and further as reality sinks in.

“I…guess we should find somewhere to stay?” Your voice is a little meek.

“I guess so.” He tries to keep his tone even, but there’s something almost mischievous behind it, something you can’t place. The ends of his lips twitch into an almost smile before he stops it. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you pray it’s something perverted. Maybe today he’ll get brave and act on it and you’ll have an excuse to throw yourself at him, give into the feeling you’ve been fighting all day.

You both attempt to find an inn with two open rooms, but the first three are fully booked with drunks who have beaten you to it. The curfew inches ever closer, and you still have nowhere to stay. If you stay on the street and get caught by the marines, you know Nami will kick your ass for alerting them to your presence. She probably already will for how long you’re delaying your journey. You focus on Sanji’s arm resting around your shoulders to ground yourself and ignore the dread creeping in and settling in your bones.

You finally find an inn that will take you, but you immediately run into a problem. Or what you’ll pretend is a problem.

“Please tell me you have availability.” Sanji’s voice is tinged with desperation as the clock ticks down.

 The woman working the desk seems exhausted, having clearly dealt with much worse customers than yourself earlier. “Is a queen bed okay?”

“A queen bed, like singular?” You put on a good show of acting confused and a little upset, hiding your giddiness well.

“Oh, are you two not–” Her eyes are lingering on where you’re connected, your arms wrapped around his. “I’m sorry, I assumed–well. Um. We only have one room left, I assumed you would want to share it.”

“One room?” Sanji’s voice gets a little loud, and a stranger would mistake this for anger or upset, but you can hear excitement in his tone. He glances at you again, at your face, at your chest, at your legs, admiring you for just a moment, certainly imagining something that would make you flush. “Only one room?”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can do. We really only have one. If that doesn’t work–”

“It works.” You both speak quickly. You pretend you don’t see him visibly fist pump when he thinks you aren’t looking. He pretends he doesn’t see you excitedly rock on your feet, a visible twinkle in your eye. The woman hands you a set of keys, and you’re both off.

As you walk to the room, you talk around it, pretending you both aren’t absolutely thrilled by this turn of events. 

“I can’t believe they only have one room. I know it’s busy, but this place is massive. It’s hard to believe it’s fully booked.” You try to sound annoyed, but a giggle makes its way into your voice as you imagine being tucked into the single bed with Sanji’s arms around you.

“It’s ridiculous. And with only a queen bed? Not even two twins? Or a king? It’s the most inconvenient it possibly could be.” He can’t fight his smile when he says only a queen, as he imagines both of you having nowhere to run except into each other. He could cry at the idea of having an excuse to hold you close, to feel you pressed against him with your head resting on his chest. It’s so domestic he could pretend it was real.

You both perfectly match each other’s steps in this liar’s dance even when the door closes, even when there’s not a single person to call you on it but each other. You cannot admit that you want this, out of fear that it might shatter the feeling of giddy excitement surrounding you both. You cannot put to words what is happening, lest you make it real. Real has worries attached to it, questions of the future and what this all means and what it changes. If you stay quiet you stay in the dream, where instead the only thing you have to think about is the pounding of your heart and the comforting heat of another next to you.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he says, visibly upset by the idea. He has to offer you the choice, he is a gentleman, but his eyes are pleading for you to deny the idea and welcome him into your bed.

“Don’t be silly, Sanji. You don’t need to ruin your back, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.” You leave out the internal pleading for him to come closer as soon as humanly possible. He can’t know how you may be even more desperate for him than he is for you.

“You’re an angel, my dear.” His smile now is genuinely affectionate, filled with a fondness that makes your chest ache. He looks younger like this, unburdened. “Well, let’s not wait, hm? I bet you’re exhausted.” His hands reach for the buttons of his shirt, and you watch, enraptured, as he slowly undoes each of them, revealing more and more of his body to you. You’ve seen it before, due to his favor for open silly Hawaiian shirts, but you can’t help but swallow at the sight, eyes never daring to look away. He’s so beautiful. He’s so strong.

You wonder if he could break you.

You wonder if you could break him.

He slips the shirt off easily, his hands moving down to his belt, the clink of the buckle sending a shiver down your spine and breaking you out of your trance. You can’t let him undress while you stay fully clothed. It’s rude. You let your hands slide down to the hem of your shirt, swiftly removing it, and he stops in the middle of unbuttoning his pants to stare, jaw slacked. You can see him grow hard at the sight of your chest as his eyes bore holes into you. His gaze is burning, his pupils blown out, his breathing growing heavy.

“Sanji?” You reluctantly call out to break the spell, not wanting your masquerade to end quite this soon.

“Yes? What is tit–it?” His eyes haven’t moved a centimeter, honed in on where your breasts spill over your bra.

“You’re staring.” You keep your tone teasing. His eyes finally trail up to your face, where he finds a twitching smile as you try to hold back your giggles. His expression shifts from lustful to lovestruck as his eyes soften and his smile widens.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, breathlessly.

“So are you.” His smile widens further as he finally looks away from you, suddenly bashful. His cheeks are flushed slightly pink, and you finally break and huff out a laugh. It isn’t seeing you half naked that gets him, or the idea of sharing a bed, or the lustful thoughts he’s certainly been having all day. It’s a simple compliment, not even a particularly good one, that flusters your dear cook. It makes you want to take his face in your hands and place kisses all over it, with a tenderness that would make its way under his skin, marking him as well and truly loved. It makes you want to drop to your knees and worship him, take him into your mouth and not stop until he’s utterly spent and crying from the overstimulation. It makes you want him, in every meaning of the word.

But you don’t want to break the illusion yet, still a little nervous about being the first to step over the line, so instead you slide your thumbs beneath the waistband of your jeans and quickly step out of them. You make your way to the bed, making a show of throwing yourself onto your back, bouncing a little as his eyes eagerly take in the movement of your breasts, your thighs, every inch of you. After allowing him a moment to admire, you shift to pull the blankets over yourself, tucking yourself in. You’re going to play your part. But you’re allowed a moment of fun. You look up at him, doe eyes blinking and arms outstretched welcomingly. “Sanji, aren’t you coming to bed?”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes turning to your face, and in that moment you swear you can see into his head. You see dreams of the two of you intertwined, not sexually, but just…together. You see his head resting against your chest, eyes closed in absolute bliss. You see the soft sunlight of the morning bathing you both in gold, warming you to your bones. You see a different scene, the two of you in a more intimate embrace, bodies pressing closer than you thought possible, hips moving and hands everywhere, a tender moment that almost feels like worship. You see an entire life together, every little moment, and you see Sanji’s eyes fill with tears at the idea of it.

He rips his pants off, practically diving into the bed with you, and his arms wrap around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He buries his face into your chest, nosing between your breasts, and somehow still keeping up this silly ruse, he mumbles, “This bed’s pretty small. Guess we’ll have to get even closer.” He pulls you tighter, and you’re almost sure he can’t breathe from how much he’s pressed his nose into your skin. You giggle, and you can feel him smile against you. He places a kiss right against your sternum, gentle and affectionate, before pressing one up slightly higher, then one higher than that, as he makes his way up to your neck. His facial hair rubs against your skin, the ticklish feeling making you laugh even more. He places one final kiss where your jaw meets your neck before pulling up to whisper in your ear. “Can I please kiss you? I think I’ll die if I don’t.”

“Please do,” you whine out. He doesn’t wait another moment before your lips crash together, teeth briefly clacking together in his excitement before it softens into something more tender and intimate. He groans softly into your mouth, lips parting, welcoming you in. You gladly accept, and he fully pins you beneath him and you explore each other’s mouths.

His hands slide underneath you, one pulling you upward into him as the other fumbles with the clasp of your bra. The moment it releases, he swiftly tosses it behind him, breaking your kiss to stare at your chest. His mouth is slightly agape as he pants, eyes wide, taking in the sight. He looks as though he wants to speak, but nothing comes out. The silence stretches out as he takes in every inch of your breasts, before he eventually reaches a shaking hand out to brush his fingers against your skin. He lets out a quiet breath of awe. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. A goddess. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“You took the words out of my mouth, Sanji. This is a dream come true.” Your voice is quiet with the vulnerable admission, and his eyes leave your chest to meet yours.

“You dreamed of this?” He sounds like he really truly can’t fathom the idea.

“Dozens of times. Almost every dream I have is about you. Last night I–” You stop yourself in embarrassment, face flushing.

He leans closer with an intensity he usually saves for battle. “Last night? You dreamed about me last night?” His eyes are boring into you, stripping you bare, staring straight into your heart and soul.

“Yes,” you softly admit. “I dreamed about you last night. About this. The real thing is so much better.”

“Oh god,” he breaths out, before he kisses you again, hard and fast. His hands envelop your tits, groping and squeezing. You can’t stop yourself from keening into his mouth when his fingers brush against your nipples, and you can feel him grind against you when he hears. His hardness presses against your bare thighs, showing how badly he wants you. He grabs at you like you’ll disappear between his fingers, fade away like all of the dreams that have been haunting you.

Another pinch at your nipples makes you cry out, and you pull back, begging, “Sanji, please, more!” You want to feel his fingers inside you, his tongue, his cock. Any and everything he could give you you want, and you feel so sure that he would gladly let you take it. He would give you the heart out of his chest if you asked.

He moans as his bulge rubs against your thighs again. “Fuck, of course, angel. Whatever you want.” He slides lower, and you feel his fingers slide along the fabric covering your slit. He carefully traces a path up to your clit, lightly pressing against it through your panties, making you suck in a breath. His eyes travel between your face and his fingers, taking note of your reactions.

He eventually slides off your panties, letting out a soft noise of appreciation once he’s able to see all of you. He leans closer, mumbling something you don’t quite catch, before his mouth is on you.

“Ah, Sanji!” You cry out in surprise, your thighs clenching together, and you can feel him moan against you at the pressure. His tongue moves expertly, which you suppose makes sense; Sanji is a man who knows how to appreciate a good meal. His hands reach up to grip your thighs, not to pull them apart, but to pull you even closer, hooking your legs over his shoulders as he dives further into you. His nose brushes your clit, making you keen again, and you can feel him smile against your cunt. 

You feel a familiar tension building in your gut as his tongue shifts to your clit and he inserts a finger, then two, then three inside of you, curling in a come hither motion that makes you see stars. You get noisier and noisier as the coil tightens, and Sanji only grows more enthusiastic with every moan and cry he manages to pull from you. His hips are grinding desperately against the mattress beneath you. Your thighs continue to tighten around his head, and you worry you’ll crush him, but you imagine that’s the way he’d want to go.

With one final flick of Sanji’s tongue and push of his fingers, you come unraveled around him, nearly screaming his name as you’re hit with white-hot pleasure. His fingers work you through it, only stopping when your thighs go slack around him and you let out a soft whimper. He crawls up to see your face, to see the evidence of his work, and you can see he’s absolutely covered in your wetness, his facial hair soaked in you. His pupils are blown out, his eyes nearly entirely black and looking nearly maddened with lust. He kisses you, and you can taste yourself on his lips.

“Please, please let me feel you. I need to feel you around me. Please.” His voice is ragged as he pants, a whine behind it as he begs to fuck you.

“Please,” you whimper back.

His fingers hook below the waistband of his boxers, and he slides out of them slowly. His cock stands proudly, long and thick, leaking precum. He gives you no time to admire it, swiftly lining it up with your entrance and slowly pushing himself into you, moaning into your ear at the feeling.

“Darling, you feel heavenly,” he groans. He sits still for a moment, giving you time to adjust and just enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him. “I could never have imagined how perfect you are. The dreams never did you justice.” You try to move your hips, but his hands are holding you still. You let out a whine, pathetic and wanton, and his lips tug into a smile. “Are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes, god, yes.”

He pulls himself out slowly, before reentering a little faster, the next time a little faster than that, increasing his speed bit by bit until he’s relentlessly pounding you into the mattress. He mumbles endless praise for you that gets lost between his moans, only allowing you to make out princess and tight and perfect. The room is filled with these small praises and the sound of slapping skin. You lean up to kiss him, but he doesn’t let you, instead staring intensely into your eyes, determined to see your face when you cum.

He watches your face as your orgasm grows closer, his hips speeding up and his fingers reaching for your clit. His gaze is loving, admiring, nearly worshiping, and his words at some point turn into a prayer: for you, for him, for what you’ve created here in this room to last long after the door opens and you return back to a life where this becomes real. Your orgasm hits you harshly, making you cry out, and he watches enraptured as you come apart around him. He tries to keep his pace steady, but his hips stutter as he cums inside of you, filling you with warmth.

He stays like that, cock inside of you, eyes locked onto yours. The only sound in the room is your heaving breaths, the only sensation either of you feel is the warmth of the other grounding you here.

“I think I love you,” he murmurs. “Can I say that? Can I make it real?”

You wrap your arms around him, pulling his head to your chest, cradling him there. “Please do. I want it to be real. I want you. I love you.”

He adjusts, pulling out of you, crawling up slightly to fully make his home in your chest. His shoulders shake, and you hear a sniffle. You don’t say anything, simply running your hands gently through his hair, across his cheeks, down his back.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you.” He nuzzles his face even deeper into you.

“I think I’ve wanted you just as long, even if I didn’t realize it.”

“I adore you.” His voice is thick with emotion, and you think maybe this confession is deeper and more difficult than his first. 

“I adore you too, Sanji. You’re one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met.”

You sit there, basking in each other’s presence, enjoying a world where this gets to be real. You drift off to sleep peacefully, with the reassurance that when you wake this won’t just have been another troubling dream. Nothing is more real and grounding than his arms wrapped around you, his leg thrown over you, his lips still lightly pressed against your skin. You know you’ll see him tomorrow, shining brilliantly in the sun, and walk back hand in hand. You still dream of him, but the lovesick smile he gives you when you open your eyes is better than any dream you’ve ever had.

[freedomfireflies]

Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door. 

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up. 

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow. 

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?” 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?” 

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

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