#i would kill to look like him but i can't so. gotta take things were i can and sometimes that's wearing a blue hoodie and pretending | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeyhotteoks · 1 year ago

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always only you (c.sc)

summary: the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead.

note: hi um....... i'm back and a seventeen stan now????? don't worry, i'm still working on ateez fic, but s.coups has taken hold of my brain and i needed to get this one out there so..... pls enjoy

warnings: non idol!seungcheol, fem!reader, older brother mingyu, seungcheol is mingyus bff, reader is called a sl*t in a mean way by her shitty date, v protective cheol, reckless driving, unprotected sex (wrap it up dont be like them), reader is curvy and descriptors like full, thick, etc. are used throughout, makeouts, grinding, cheol is obsessed with pussy, i mean fr he's a bonafide wap enjoyer, an oral aficionado of the wettest kind, anyways there's oral sex f receiving, hand stuff, rough fingering, rough but passionate sex, use of baby and princess, creampies b/c lbr he's gotta, anyways they're obsessed with each other

pairings: s.coups x reader

genre: smut and more smut, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 14.2K

It was a bad date.

Not the worst date you’ve ever had, granted, but still pretty up there in terms of terrible. He left an hour ago, the minute you interrupted his monologue to tell him that you were pretty sure things weren’t going to work out. You’ve never had someone leave in the middle of a date before, but then again, you’ve never actually told someone the date was bad in the middle either.

Not being able to find the right guy is starting to feel embarrassing. It’s been years since your last relationship and months since you even had a second date. Naively, you had had such a good feeling about tonight and having to be proven wrong at breakneck speed before you even got your entrees feels like some kind of poetic karma for something you must have done. You just wish for once you had kept your mouth shut, but your good feeling had been infectious and your excitement about the date bubbled up out of you to your friends and your coworkers.

You just wish you never told Mingyu.

I have a really good feeling about him. That’s what you told your brother on the phone a few hours ago. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, I think you’ll really like him.

Stupid.

You should have known he was on the rebound from the suspiciously large gap in photos on his Instagram. You should have known he was just trying to sleep with you from the minute he commented on your dress, from the way he touched your shoulder for too long for the first hug. You should have known on top of all of that that he would be boring from his joking non-answer when you asked about his most recent read. Sometimes it takes all of those things wrapped up tightly together and shoved directly in your face from across a dining room table to know for sure.

You just wish you never said a word to Mingyu. You don’t want to see that look in his eyes when you tell him he wasn’t the right guy. His eyes always go soft, mouth downturned, and it kills you every time because he means it when he says - You’ll find the right guy soon, anyone would be crazy to not love you.

Tonight you really don’t want pity, you don’t think you can handle it.

“Are you ready for the check?” The server’s voice snaps you right out of your thoughts and you look up at his sympathetic smile.

“Sorry,” You manage, “yes,”

“No rush,” He lies, immediately producing the leather billfold and sliding it across the tablecloth.

The floor doesn’t start to drop out from beneath you until you open it, despite having to sit here and eat your pasta alone. This place is expensive, more expensive than you thought.

Your eyes run through the bill. Four cocktails, two appetizers, two entrees, one slice of cherry cheesecake. The bills your date left on the table just barely covers three cocktails. You can’t afford this. The prices here were probably nothing for your date given how much he talked about his extremely smart investing strategies, but not for you.

You do fast math, panic math.

After paying the bill you’ll have 9,600 won in your debit account. You get paid tomorrow so it’s not the scariest number you’ve ever seen in your account, but it’s definitely not enough for a taxi home.

Your stomach churns.

You pay the bill quickly, quietly, the server’s hovering presence by your shoulder enough to tell you there is in fact a considerable rush. Your card is returned to you in moments, and he places a brown paper bag in front of you, “There’s an extra slice of cheesecake in there for you,” he says, “I’m sorry about your date.”

He’s gone before you can say thank you.

You suppose you can’t really sit inside anymore if you’ve paid the bill and you’re holding a to-go bag, so you step out into the chilly night air. It’s been raining lately, but barely. It’s been cloudy more than anything, and yet here you are walking outside into the cold night air and a late autumn storm of icy rain.

Your date was a special kind of bastard for leaving you stranded a half hour from your apartment in a storm like this.

The comments he made about you, about your dress and the way it fits flick through your mind and your jaw draws tightly shut. If you had had the wherewithal in that moment to slap him or toss a glass of water in his face you would have, but instead you sat frozen with your stomach in knots.

It takes you one flash of rage to scroll through your phone and delete the three dating apps installed, and then you open up your contacts and scroll for your brother’s name. He doesn’t live too far from here, and you know he’s probably out with some of his friends, but if you’re lucky maybe he’s close by. Your finger hovers over Mingyu’s contact, but you can't quite make the call.

You’re twenty-six, you should be grown up enough to get home by yourself after a bad date and not have to call him to rescue you. Embarrassment floods you, the idea of admitting you can’t afford the taxi tonight just sinks into your bones. You love your brother so much, but the idea of seeing him look at you the way he sometimes does and then slip money into your purse for you to find at home makes you want to cry. You’d call him and you’d tell him you’re returning it and he’d play dumb - What money, y/n? I didn’t put that there, maybe it’s like when you find 50,000 won in your old jeans?

No, you can’t call him. You can’t go over to his lovely little apartment with his absolutely lovely fiance and cry about the sorry state of your romantic life. Nothing about that will make you feel better in this moment, absolutely nothing.

You scroll away from his contact and you think about anyone else you could call, but there’s only one person who keeps coming to mind. There’s no way he’ll pick up, not when he sees your number on his phone, not after the way you’ve treated him for the past year, but his apartment really isn’t that far from here and if he doesn’t hate your guts you know he’ll at least give you a ride.

The rain picks up, pelting you hard enough that you have to duck back under the measly lip of the restaurants roof for what cover it provides, and you don’t realize you’re well and truly crying until your cheeks feel warm and wet and you can’t get a full breath, but here you are. Stranded alone, broke, and loveless in an apparently ill fitting dress, and there’s only one person’s voice you want to hear even if it’s just his stupid voicemail box.

Tears hiccup out of you as you dial, cold fingers shaking as you try to press the numbers you’ve had memorized by heart since you were thirteen and got your first cell phone.

The phone rings twice before he answers, “Hey, you,”

The easy sound of his voice makes your tears come faster. Your breath hitches in your chest, “Cheol?”

“y/n?” His voice shifts, “Are you crying?”

“I’m,” You hiccup again, “I’m sorry,”

“Hey,” He tries again, “y/n, is that you?”

“I messed up,” Your head is starting to throb and you press your eyes closed, leaning back against the cold wall of the restaurant and hiding as much of your body under the overhang of the roof as possible, “I’m sorry to call,”

“That’s okay,” Seungcheol says, his voice sounding strained, “what happened, princess?”

He hasn’t called you that in years, not since you were fifteen and carrying a torch for him. Not since you made Mingyu tell him to stop.

“C-can you come get me?” You wish you could just stop crying.

“Tell me where you are,” He answers immediately, and despite the rain you hear the sound of his car keys.

You give him the name of the restaurant, the closest cross streets, all blubbered out between fat tears and rain drops.

“That’s…” He sounds distant suddenly and then his voice reconnects, “twenty minutes, okay? I’ll be there in twenty minutes, princess, just take a deep breath,”

You drag in a shaky breath, “Cheol,” you scrub the tears from under your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,”

“Me,” He says, his car starting up in the background, “you always call me if you need me,”

You haven’t seen him in almost a year, barely talked to him outside of sending reactions to each other's Instagram stories, but he’s coming.

The way you fell away from him was gradual at first, and then an intentional self preservationist wall. Mingyu had introduced his best friend to a girl, and despite your high school crush being supposedly dead and buried, you weren’t prepared for what Choi Seungcheol in love would look like. You started being busier and busier until his calls went unanswered and then eventually his calls just stopped altogether. Mingyu told you later that the relationship didn’t last, but the damage was done and in the end it was just easier not to reach out first.

You can’t believe he picked up the phone and you can’t believe the first thing he heard from you in a year was hysterical crying. Taking a set of deep, steadying breaths you wipe away the wetness from your cheeks. Your date had hurt your feelings, but you only let it last for a minute. You wouldn’t let a man with such a fragile ego get into your head, and besides, you’ve always liked this dress.

Seungcheol makes it to you in fifteen minutes flat. He’s broken at least six traffic laws to get to you, including running a solidly red, redlight, but he really doesn’t care.

He’s seen you cry before, plenty of times. When you skinned your knee at seven or that time he and Mingyu played a prank when you were eleven, tricking you into thinking you were home alone on Halloween night. He’s seen you cry at movies and at videos of puppies and the sound of moving music, and he remembers your eyes full of glassy tears watching Mingyu graduate college. He remembers the sound of it when your grandmother died when you were nineteen, the way your shoulders shook and your breath wheezed as you hid your face tightly in your brother's chest while he looked on feeling so, so helpless.

Seungcheol remembers all of it, but he’s never heard you sound like you did tonight.

Mingyu had said you had a date. Earlier in Seungcheol’s night at a bar not far from his apartment, his best friend mentioned it off hand. Mingyu said it like an afterthought as he answered one of your texts. Seungcheol tried not to notice the way his hand tightened on his beer can, enough to make the aluminum crack inwards on itself where his thumb dug into the cool metal. He tried not to think too much about what that meant, just like he’s been trying not to think too much about you at all lately.

Now his mind is racing, threading the pieces together as the wet road whips by. The threadiness of your voice turns synonymous with panic in his mind and now all he can think about is how he’ll find you when he gets there. He goes over the facts he knows while he stops behind a small block of traffic, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel.

A date, a bad date, a date you needed a ride away from. The kind of date you couldn’t tell your brother about, when he knows that Mingyu is always your first call. As the traffic disperses he presses the gas pedal and weaves around the slower cars, images flickering in his mind’s eye. A faceless man looking at you, making you uncomfortable, pressing into your space. His mind loops on the image of an unwanted kiss, of pushy hands finding their way under your blouse.

By the time he’s skidding into the parking lot of the restaurant his hands are shaking and he’s ready to kill.

When he sees you, wet and shivering on the sidewalk, he nearly falls out of the car trying to get to you. He leaves the key in the ignition, the door flung wide open with warmth pouring out into the chilly night air.

He looks flustered, rumpled like he was having a quiet night in. Heavy gray sweatpants that hang just right on his hips and an oversized white shirt. He’s wearing socks and slides and the second you see him it dawns on you that when you called him you must have sounded hysterical because he didn’t even try to dress for the icy weather.

“You look terrible,” You clap a hand over your lips to stop yourself from laughing, and you can’t believe that’s the first thing you manage to say to him after a year. You hate yourself for having no filter, no off switch, no ability to just be normal and say thank you for coming all this way.

His expression runs from panic to confusion in a split second, “What?”

“Fuck,” You laugh, shaking your head, “no, sorry, you look good, but it’s raining like hell, get in the car,”

He blinks, “y/n,”

“Come on,” You duck out from beneath the measly roof overhang and dart towards the passenger side door, “it’s freezing, I’ll explain in the car,”

Your dress is wet, but not soaked through, so you hope you won’t do any damage to his seats as you slide into the warmth of his car and shut the door. It takes him at least thirty seconds to follow you, but through his confusion at your reaction you bet he finally registers the cold wetness of his socks and it snaps him back to reality.

He leaves the car in park and turns his body to you.

You owe him an explanation, especially given the way you cried on the phone to him twenty minutes ago, but all you can think right now is that it’s really, really nice to see his face again. His hair has gotten longer, shaggier and curled a little at the neck and it might just be the fit of his shirt, but he looks broader. It’s only been a year, but he looks so much more like a man now. All you can manage is, “Hey, Cheol,”

“Hey,” He answers, shifting himself further in the seat so that he’s almost twisted up sideways, one leg tucked up to accommodate the position.

The front of his shirt is damp with rain and clinging a bit to his chest and you look down. You really do not need to be having these kinds of thoughts about him again, it’s only been a minute, ninety seconds at the most.

“y/n,” He says, his voice slow and soft, “what happened?”

Shame floods you, heating your cheeks red.

He stretches a hand across the center console, but he stops halfway, his fingers closing into a loose fist, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know,”

“I won’t tell Gyu,” He offers quietly, “just tell me what happened, and I promise, I’ll take care of it.”

Oh.

Your head snaps up at his serious tone, “Nothing happened, I’m fine,”

He looks more confused than before if that’s even possible, and you can practically see him working out his next words.

“Cheol,” You shake your head, “I’m serious, I’m completely fine, I just needed a ride,”

“You were crying,” He says, not a question but a fact.

“I know,” You sigh.

“You were crying like something happened,” He draws his arm back and runs a hand through his damp hair, “and you called me?”

“I know,” You repeat, “it was a bad date, but that’s all it was. He ditched me without a ride though and I just,”

Seungcheol’s lips close at your words as he waits for you to finish.

“The thought of calling Mingyu and telling him about this just,” You clear your throat to push back a little bubble of emotion, “yeah, I couldn’t do that,”

“Oh,” His voice drops, and Seungcheol shifts in his seat, throwing the car into drive, “got it.”

“No, Cheol,” You shake your head, “that’s not what I meant,”

“It’s fine,” He peels out of the parking lot, “I’ll drive you home.”

He’s angry, pissed at you in that way he gets pissed. Tightened jaw, heavy sighs, his knee bouncing in irritation. If you give it five minutes he’ll tell you what’s bothering him, he’ll say it in a fast rush like he’s more disappointed than mad. You have to let him come to you when he’s like this, no amount of trying to explain will fix it, so you wait.

The drive is silent, and you fight the urge to jump in with directions when he approaches each light and turn. He knows where your apartment is, he helped you move in four years ago when you graduated college. Mingyu and his friends lifting box after box and telling you to just relax and let the professionals handle it. You smile at the memory.

He stays quiet until he turns off the major road and down the side streets that will take you to your apartment, but finally he says, “You can’t just call me like that and expect me to drop everything when you have a bad date,”

“Were you busy?” You didn’t think so judging by the state of his clothes, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. He could have had friends over, maybe a girl. You wonder idly if he’s seeing someone.

“That’s not the point,” He glances at you, “and you know it.”

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, and you mean it, “I really didn’t know who to call, and I just,”

“What, y/n?” He pushes a little.

“I just don’t want to tell Mingyu about the date,” You confess, “and I didn’t mean to call you and be such a mess, the date really was bad and I was feeling sorry for myself, and I didn’t have enough money to get home,”

“What?” He swivels his head to the side for a moment and then refocuses on the road.

“I would have called a taxi,” You explain, “but my fucking date left and didn’t pay after we ordered all this food and it was more than I was planning for,”

“He didn’t pay?” He sounds disgusted and you smile.

“No,” You tell him, “but in fairness, I did tell him in the middle of the date it wasn’t going to work out,”

He laughs sharply, and you know he’s still irritated but at least he’s listening, “That bad?”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “but it is what it is,”

He glances over to you again, “So he walked out?”

“Basically,” You nod, “he said what he needed to say, dropped twenty-thousand won on the table like that was going to cover anything and walked out. At least now I know he was an asshole, I’m not missing out on anything,”

“What did he say to you?” His voice pops up an octave.

You’d really rather not tell him, you’d be fine burying the comment he made deep down inside never to be unpacked again. You shake your head, “It’s fine,”

“It doesn’t seem fine,” He starts, but you smoothly cut back in.

“I just didn’t want Gyu to feel bad for me I guess, he knew I was looking forward to the date, and having to call for a ride like this, I don’t know. I was embarrassed,” You explain.

“I still don’t understand why you called me, though,” He admits, and you can still feel the tension in him even though the conversation has been ebbing and flowing, “I’m not your brother.”

Irritation sparks in you at the comment, “I know you’re not,” you turn to him, “but we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Friends call each other,” He says simply, “don’t they?”

You let his comment sit in the air between you for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah, they do. I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that,”

“I tried calling,” He says softly, “but you were always busy,”

“I know,” You breathe.

He drives further, slower now and safer that you’re in the car, and you can see him thinking through your words. Finally he slides his hand across the center console with his palm turned up, offering you his hand, “y/n,” he says, “are you doing okay? With money, I mean, after what you said?”

“I’m good,” You tell him, “it was just shitty timing,”

“If you need anything,” He squeezes your hand as you slide your palm across his, “I’m here, we don’t have to say anything to,”

“I’m okay,” You assure him, “but thank you, seriously,”

He nods, accepting your words, but then he asks something harder, “What did that guy say to you, y/n? I know you, you weren’t crying like that over not being able to get a taxi,”

You sigh, leaning back in the passenger seat, “Can I ask you to let it go?”

“You can ask,” He shrugs, “but so can I.”

You sit quietly, looking at your entwined hands resting on your knee. His thumb strokes over your knuckles slowly.

“Fine,” You murmur, “he said he didn’t want to date me anyways, he just came to sleep with me,”

His hand tightens on yours.

“And if I wasn’t going to fuck him,” You do your best to clean up some of the language he used when he got up from the table, “I shouldn’t have dressed like a slut,”

You leave out the part that really cut deep, the part that made the more form fitting dress you chose go from sexy to something sour.

“Give me this asshole’s name,” Seungcheol skids to a stop a little too harshly at the next traffic light and turns to you.

“No,” You shake your head, “I’m fine now, it just stung,”

His lips close in a tight line and then he sighs, “I’m so sorry someone said that to you,”

“Don’t apologize, Cheol,” You squeeze his hand, “you didn’t say it.”

“I know, but still,” He holds your gaze, “it was mean, and you deserve much better from a guy you’re seeing, and you don’t look like, or I mean, you aren’t a,”

You smile as he stumbles over his words and someone behind him gently honks the horn enough to let him know the light has gone green.

He jolts and refocuses on the road, clearing his throat, “What I’m trying to say is that you look nice, pretty. The dress is good, and you, um, you don’t look,”

“Thank you,” You cut him off, trying to save him from swallowing his own tongue out of embarrassment, and you ignore the way your stomach flipped over on itself hearing Seungcheol call you pretty.

“Yeah,” He swallows, slowing down to make the final turn onto your little block, “you know what I mean,”

“Mhm,” You laugh, breaking down any lingering tension, “Cheol, are you a little disappointed you didn’t get to punch my date? Is that it?”

“Shut up,” He sighs.

“Aw,” You smile as he pulls into a space by your apartment, “You were worried about me?”

He rolls his eyes as he kills the ignition, “You were hysterical,” he says, “what was I supposed to think?”

“Don’t worry,” You smile as he throws open the driver’s side door, “I think it’s kind of sweet that you went all knight and shining armor on me,”

His lip twitches, “Don’t make fun,” he says, “I thought something bad happened to you,”

“Nothing bad happened to me,” You find yourself assuring him again even though he already knows this, and you twist the moment back to a joke as quickly as you can, “unless you count listening to a guy talk about his ex for twenty minutes,”

He grimaces, “Ugh,”

“Exactly,”

“Actually, you know what,” He grins, “you’re right, that is a terrible date and you were right to call me,”

He’s out of the car and crossing to your door and relief floods your chest. Just like that, you’re back to normal.

Seungcheol pulls open your door to let you out and says, “Do you have a towel or something?”

“You want to come up?”

“If you don’t mind,”

“You just swooped in and saved my night, Coups, of course I don’t mind.” He smiles at the nickname, the one mostly used by his friend group and coined by Seungcheol himself during their short lived Soundcloud music career freshman year of college. The nickname stuck, but you and Mingyu knew him before and you’ve both always, always called him Seungcheol.

He ducks his head, smiles, and follows you up the stairs and into your apartment just like old times.

It’s a little strange seeing him like this after so much time has passed, but no matter what has happened in your life, even when your childhood little crush on him was making your nights sleepless, he’s always been there. He’s been a constant in your life since you could form memories, and when you really think about it, you’ve never not known Seungcheol. Suddenly seeing him in your living room feels right, and it makes you wonder why you couldn’t pick up the phone and say something real to him this past year.

“It looks good in here,” He offers, toeing off his slides in the entryway and stepping into your little living room, “it looks like you,”

“Thanks,” You’re pretty sure the floor of your bedroom is still covered in clothes from earlier, but he’s not going to see that and you’re just glad you didn’t let that chaos spillover out here.

“So,” He clears his throat lightly.

“Towel,” You jump, “right, hold on,”

You disappear down the hall and Seungcheol’s chest goes fluttering fast. He doesn’t need a towel, he doesn’t need anything except a pair of dry socks and his own bed, and he can’t figure out for the life of him why he gave into the little voice that told him to come upstairs. You’ve made it pretty clear over the past year or so that you’ve grown up, you’ve made your own group of friends outside of him and your brother and the guys. He doesn’t need to be here, you don’t need him anymore, you just needed a ride.

But he’s missed you a little. A lot if he’s being honest with himself. Sometimes he finds himself asking Mingyu about you, hoping you might drop by while he’s at his best friend’s place. Your name on his phone screen earlier in the night had stopped his heart cold. He couldn’t imagine why you were calling and not just texting, and he picked up the phone so fast he thought he might have fucked it up and accidentally pressed end. He tried to sound casual, normal, but his heart was pounding.

Standing in your living room he feels out of place, like a forgotten childhood relic unboxed in the middle of a new home. He doesn’t know which seat to sit in, he doesn’t have his spot on your couch here like he did at your old place. He doesn’t know where you keep your glasses or which remote would switch on the television. He doesn’t know which book you’ve been reading from the little stack on the table or the name of the place you’ve been working, and there’s a man’s jacket hanging on the wall in the hallway that he doesn’t recognize. He hopes it’s Mingyu’s.

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He should leave. He should go.

“Okay,” Your voice comes back, and he tears his eyes away from the little details of your life he doesn’t recognize to look back at you, “I’ve got a towel, socks, and I bet I have a sweatshirt of Gyu’s around here if you’re cold,”

“I’m good,” He recovers, taking the dry items from your hands.

Your fingers brush along his as you pass everything off and your stomach jumps.

“Come in,” You wave him in, “I’ll make some coffee or something and then I need to change,”

“You should get a warm shower,” He says abruptly, “you’ll catch a cold,”

“I’m fine,” You shake your head, “I wasn’t out there for too long,”

“I’ll make the coffee then, you need to get out of that wet dress,” He shoos you away and points to your kitchen, “I assume you have a normal coffee machine and not some fancy Italian thing?”

“I think you’ll be fine,” You smile, “I’ll just be a second,”

He nods, and you dart back down the hallway to your bedroom.

It takes you three minutes to change into something comfortable and clean and then kick all of your scattered clothes into the closet and shut the door. You run a brush through your tangled hair from the rain, and you almost forget that your childhood crush is walking freely around your apartment, but then you hear his laugh and you melt into the wall behind you. You missed the sound of it so much, and if you don’t get a handle on this right now you’re going to go out there and make a fool of yourself.

But then he laughs again.

You smile as you come back out into the living room, leaving your good sense behind in the bathroom, “What’s so funny?”

“I haven’t seen these in years,” He grins, and as you come around the corner you realize he’s looking at the photos you have framed and sitting in various spots on your bookshelf.

“Oh,” You smile, seeing the one he’s holding and studying, “yeah,”

“This one,” He tips the frame so you can see the picture, but you already know which one, Mingyu and Seungcheol in their first year of college stand in the center of the frame, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Dokyeom, and Hoshi with their arms thrown around each other on either side. You are crouching in the center with Jeonghan’s little sister, both of you holding out a peace sign.

“Isn’t this the night we went to that haunted theme park?” Seungcheol asks with a smile.

“Yeah,” You take the photo back from him and look it over for a moment, “in Daegu,”

He nods, “I remember,”

“Yeah,” You place the photo back in it’s assigned spot and turn towards the kitchen, “I just remember you and DK scaring the living shit out of me,”

“God,” He runs a hand through his hair, “we did, I felt so bad about that after,”

“Mm,” You laugh.

“Gyu reamed us out for it later,” He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you pour two cups of freshly brewed coffee.

“He never told me that,” Your eyes perk up in surprise.

“He said,” Seungcheol straightens himself up to his full height and lets his face go passive for his impression, “‘If you ever make my sister cry like that again, you’ll be sorry,’”

“Sorry?” You laugh, “Mingyu wouldn’t know how to make someone sorry if his life depended on it,”

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, relaxing his shoulders and reaching for his cup, “it seemed pretty clear he wasn’t fucking around, we took him seriously,”

“Wow,” You lean against the counter, “that’s actually kind of sweet,”

“He’s always been protective of you,” Seungcheol points out, “even now, he’ll talk about you and I can see it,”

“I’m not a kid anymore, though,” You bristle a little.

“He knows that,” Seungcheol shakes his head, “he just worries, you know, it’s his nature,”

“Yeah,” You nod, taking a long sip of your coffee, “I know,”

Seungcheol hovers, not finding a place to lean or to sit in the unfamiliar place, and finally he just asks the question that’s been on his mind for the past twenty minutes, “Is that why you didn’t call him? He worries too much?”

“I guess a little,” You move past him and back into the living room, “come sit down, you’re making me nervous,”

He blushes and every little emotion you’ve ever had for him comes thundering back in your chest. There are at least three places for him to sit that aren’t directly next to you on the couch, but he ignores every one of them and sits next to you, barely a foot away, and turns towards you so he can put all his focus on you.

“So,” He prompts you, “come on, it’s just me,”

Talking to him was always easy, always. Even in the throes of your infatuation you were able to hold a conversation with him, sometimes a long one out on the balcony of your parent’s house. It’s almost irritating how quickly that familiarity and comfort comes back.

“I just feel like I’ve been really fucking this whole dating thing up,” You confess, “and Mingyu’s been… well you know him, he’s like the number one hype man for me making all my dreams come true, and being ten out of ten happy,”

“Yeah,” He nods, but lets you continue.

“But I just haven’t been able to make it work with anyone in a while,” You bite down the reason why in the back of your brain, “and every time I tell him about a bad date he just looks sadder and sadder for me,”

“Mm,” He nods, sympathetic, “I know exactly what you mean.”

“I’m so glad you picked up, honestly,” You glance down at the edge of your cup, “you’ve never treated me like that, and I just… I guess I needed a friend and not my brother tonight,”

He hesitates, but then his hand comes to rest on your knee and he gives you a squeeze, “I get it,” he says, “but, honestly it seems like you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself,”

“I know, but,” You sigh, your words dying out as you focus on his lingering hand on your knee.

“What’s so important about getting a guy right now?” He asks, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of this man asking you that question.

“Cheol,” You shift on the couch to reposition, pulling back your knee from his touch so you can face him and admit this without being dizzier than you are about his presence, “I don’t know, exactly, but… don’t you feel like living alone is kind of fucking lonely sometimes?”

His eyes flick over you and then he nods.

The words keep coming as much as you don’t want them to now that you’ve started telling someone, telling him the truth of it and you grimace as you admit it, “The sick part is that I think it’s me. Tonight was the exception, he was a dick, but most of these guys are nice. They’re nice, they’re respectful, they seem to be interested in me, but none of them are what I want, none of them are,”

You have to stop. You have to get off this topic and off this train before you say something really and truly stupid and burn this newly restored friendship down to ash.

“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing,” He offers, “and Gyu sets the bar high for how you should treat a woman, I mean,”

“You think I’m talking about Mingyu?” You laugh sharply.

“He’s the best guy I know,” He starts to say and then the wheels start turning.

It happens fast, your absolute lightning quick strike to the match, but your poor decision making usually goes something like this. It makes you mad at first, his constant reference to your perfect brother, but then it all makes sense. Seungcheol really has no idea how you feel about him, as a person or otherwise. It doesn’t enter his brain that the guy who set your standards for men so high might be him, even after he drove illegally fast on wet roads just to come get you because he heard you cry. Up until the last year of your life where you tried to install some distance, he was always there. He was always your first call, always your last call too, and you could never really see anyone else while he was towering right in front of you. He’s never let you down and he doesn’t even know it.

“I can’t believe you,” The words slip out, and then you’re kissing him.

He takes a sharp inhale of breath at the way you collapse onto him, holding yourself up with one hand on his chest and the other on his neck, and his mouth is so warm. You press the first kiss tentatively, and then the second a little more insistently, and then you realize he hasn’t moved an inch and isn’t kissing you back in the least.

You fly backwards, your hand over your mouth, “Oh, god, I’m so sorry,”

He clears his throat and shifts, shaking his head, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,”

“I can’t believe I just did that,” You blush scarlet, “I’m a mess, I’m so, so sorry, Cheol,”

“Really,” He avoids your eyes, “it’s fine, it was an emotional night, and you just said it yourself, living alone is lonely. We’re good,”

“I didn’t kiss you because I was sad,” You run a hand through your hair and slump back on the couch, “I kissed you because you were being a dumb ass,”

“I feel like you’re insulting me a lot tonight considering I just drove across town for you,” He’s not angry, not really, but he doesn’t let you off so easily, he never has.

“I kissed you because you’re the best guy I know,” You counter his words back, “and I’m sick of you always putting yourself down when-”

He yanks you forwards by your wrist, and this kiss is what you’ll count forever as the first one. He drags your body forwards as he leans back against the couch and kisses you hard, his tongue dipping past your lips this time, his breath mingling with yours.

You shift for better purchase, your chest and his flush together, and you moan softly against his lips when his hand slips lower on your waist.

He breaks the kiss, his forehead leaning against yours, “What the fuck are we doing?”

“I think they call it making out,” You manage, your heart beating fast like a bird.

“Jesus,” He shakes his head, “what are we doing?”

“Cheol,” You start, but he kisses you again, hungrier and hotter as he pulls you in.

You pant against his mouth, your brain exploding into little fireworks as his hands start to wander, and then he groans, “You feel so good,”

This is going somewhere fast, and with your hands twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt you swing your leg over his hips and let him wrap his arms around you.

“We should slow down,” You find yourself mumbling against his mouth, “but I don’t want to, I want you,”

He nods against you, his hands squeezing your thighs where they rest on either side of him, “I want you too,”

“We should talk more,” You manage as his kisses travel over your jaw.

“Later?” He asks, his hands dragging you closer, “God, that dress,”

“Yeah?” You’re breathless already.

“If I knew you were going to kiss me I would have peeled it off you,” He pants.

A moan gets caught in your throat, your hips jerking, nipples hardening against his chest as you throw yourself into another kiss.

“God,” He shivers.

“Cheol stay,” You can talk later, he’s absolutely right, and you beg him not to go between kisses, “please stay,”

Logic starts to pump through him at the implications of that, so much more than kissing comes with staying for the night and he starts to shake his head, but at the way you’re touching him he can’t quite tear his hands away.

“I should go home,” He murmurs against your mouth, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your t-shirt, “you’ve been drinking,”

“I had two drinks,” You connect your lips with his again, tongue dipping into his mouth, “like three hours ago,”

“Still,” He kisses you again despite his words, his hand now flat against the small of your back.

“I’m not drunk,” You pull yourself closer using his shoulders, “if you don’t want to kiss me, don’t kiss me, but don’t use that as an excuse,”

“I should go home,” He repeats, like saying it out loud might make his body follow his brain, but it doesn’t. All he does is tug you closer, your legs now fully splayed around his hips as he leans back against the couch and groans against your mouth.

“I should,” He starts again, whispered thoughts against your lips, but you push back from his chest and break your mouths apart.

“If you want to go so bad, go,” You pull your arms away from him, crossing them under your chest to hold yourself steady. Your nails press pinpricks into your palms.

“This isn’t about what I want,” His eyes soften in that tender way you love, and his hand cups your waist, thumb brushing a line over the deep curve of your hip.

“Why wouldn’t this be about what you want?” You press him, “Or about what I want?”

“Mingyu is my best friend,” He says, his mouth drawn into a sullen line, “and I never want to do anything that betrays his trust or hurts him in any way,”

“I’m not asking you to,” Your voice is small.

“Just,” He sighs, his head tipping backwards against the cushions and his hands slipping to rest over your thighs, “tell me something, okay? Be honest,”

“Okay,”

“Do you want me because you’re lonely and I’m here,” He asks, his eyes locked to the ceiling, “or do you want me because you want me?”

Your arms fall slack and you open your mouth to respond but he presses forwards.

“Because if this is a one time thing to make us both feel better,” He shakes his head, “I can’t do that, I have to go home.”

“Cheol,” You murmur, but he doesn’t lift his head. You reach for him, brushing a hand along his cheek and drawing his gaze back down from the ceiling to your face, “Seungcheol, look at me,”

“Yeah,” He finally follows your gaze.

“I love my brother, but this isn’t about him,” You tell him clearly, and you watch his lips part so he can cut in but you shake your head, “it isn’t. This is about us, and I’ve had a crush on you since I was fucking thirteen,”

He blinks, a grin breaking across his face, “You have?”

“Yeah,” You shuffle closer on his lap, “why do you think I disappeared? You started dating that girl and I just… it wasn’t my place to say anything, it’s not like you were mine, but,”

He brushes the hair back from your cheek as he nods, “It hurts to see the person you want with someone else,”

“Yeah,”

“And you wanted me?”

You nod, stroking his neck where your hand rests, “I just needed some space after that, I thought I could move on,”

“I know the feeling,” He smiles, his thumb tender against your jaw, “believe me,”

“I do,” You nod, “so believe me when I tell you I’ve wanted you for a long time and I don’t just want the one night,”

He sits frozen, his eyes studying your expression, and then he’s moving. Seungcheol pulls you down to meet his mouth again, hands roughly threading into your hair and gripping your hip as he tugs your bodies flush together. He kisses like you hope he fucks, passionate and a little messy, like his need to be inside you and consumed by you is more important than any vanity.

“God,” He groans against your mouth, “he’s going to kill me,”

“Probably,” You huff a laugh against his lips, rolling your hips forwards to slot your bodies together tightly, and at the feeling of his hardening cock pressed against your sex you can’t help the breathy moan that slips out.

He drops his hands to your hips, coaxing you into rolling them again as he presses upwards and you follow his guidance with ease. He curses softly and you roll your hips again, “Oh, fuck my fucking life,” he groans, kissing his way down your throat, “he’ll kill me, but you’re worth it,”

“I better be,” You tease him, tugging gently on his hair as he licks a stripe along your throat.

“Oh, you are,” He shifts back up to kiss your lips again, his mouth pillowy soft and hot against yours, “and I love Gyu, but,”

“Seungcheol,” You push on his shoulders.

His rarely used full name gets his attention and he leans back just enough to see your face, “What’s wrong?”

“Can you please stop talking about my brother while you’re trying to fuck me?” You can hear the whine in your own voice, “I need you right now, we’ll deal with him later,”

“Sorry, sorry,” He smiles, “of course, come here,”

You melt into him as he gathers you closer, his warm, rough hands finding new expanses of skin to touch and it’s strange but delicious to know that there are still brand new things you can learn about a person even after knowing them all your life. He gets soft beneath you like butter when you touch his ears, audibly groans when you grind against him, and gets breathier every time you kiss his neck. He’s not afraid to make little noises in your ear, to curse when you do something right or softly beg you to do something again.

With his mouth on yours and his hands exploring you, you’re just a shaky wet mess in his arms and he doesn’t even fully realize it yet, still so focused on studying your body with his lips, his tongue.

“Ch-Cheol,” You whine as his teeth nip at your pulsepoint, “baby,”

His hands tighten, sliding to cup your backside through the thin fabric of your lounge pants, “Say that again,”

“Baby?”

He exhales hot air across your neck and chest, “God, I like that,”

“You hate pet names,” You sigh, remembering how his nose always crinkled in an uncomfortable scrunch when he heard people getting too coupley.

“No, I don’t,” His hand slides up, tucks under the waistband of your pants, and slides back down to feel your skin, “I hate cringey shit. You calling me ‘baby’ while you’re grinding on my dick isn’t cringey, it’s fucking hot,”

“Ah,” You tug his hair just a little, rolling your hips again, “yeah? Like this?”

His hips jolt up, pressing his cock against your clothed mound and he groans, “Say it,” he nips at your neck again and then pushes you backwards so that you’re sitting up straddling his lap, “and let me see you,”

For a brief flickering second you feel shy, another stark moment of awareness that the man between your thighs is Mingyu’s best friend, but it flashes away the minute you see his smile. He’s looking up at you like you invented the sun and you think it just might make you dizzy enough to say yes to anything he could ever ask of you.

“God,” His eyes rake over you, “you’re so fucking pretty,”

Blush creeps up your chest, “Yeah, baby?”

He swallows hard, his hands coasting up your arms and his eyes coming to rest on the heavy swell of your chest, “The prettiest.” His fingers tuck underneath the straps of your tank top and your bralette and he glances up to your face, “Can I see?”

“Please,” You whisper.

He moves slowly, peeling down the straps from each of your shoulders first, letting the thin fabric of your tank top droop down your arms until he’s left with just the stretchy elastic of your black bralette. His fingers trace your curves, the pad of his thumb ghosting over one of your hardening nipples until it pushes into a firm peak under the fabric.

“Cheol, please,” If he doesn’t touch you soon you’re going to be a squirming mess.

“Relax,” He toys with the strap, “we’ve got all night,”

You gasp as he dips forwards, peeling the front of your top down entirely until your breasts spill out of the elastic fabric. His lips connect with your skin, tongue exploring intimate parts of you in ways you’ve never experienced quite like this with anyone else.

“These,” He cups your full breasts in his hands, kissing along each swell, “are perfect, princess,”

You shiver at that, whining in his grip as he traces his tongue down and ghosts it close to your nipple, but you smile and manage, “I really took you for an ass man,”

“I’m an everything man where you’re concerned,” He flicks his tongue experimentally across the hardened bud and hums softly when you jolt in his arms, “so excuse me if I have to slow down and show my appreciation,”

This crush is going to kill you, that’s the thought that gets instantly banished from your brain the second Seungcheol wraps his lips around one nipple while his fingers pinch the other, setting a steady pace of sucking and teasing that is sure to leave pleasured little bruises.

“Oh,” You grip his shoulders, “oh, Jesus, Cheol,”

“Feel good, baby?” He switches sides smoothly and sucks again.

A jolt of pleasure rocks from your chest to your untouched clit and you rock down, trying desperately to press your aching center against anything for a little friction.

“Yeah?” He prompts you gently.

“So, so good,” You nod, rolling again, “but I need more, please,”

He nods against your chest, pressing one more kiss to your breastbone before he says, “y/n, I don’t want to move too fast or anything, we’ll do whatever you want, but,”

“But what?” You’re about a second from pushing his hand into your underwear yourself.

“Can I eat you out?”

Your stomach flips, “Oh, fuck yes,”

You’re on your back practically the second you give him permission. He holds you tight to his chest as he pushes himself up off the couch and flips you around, dropping you back onto the cushions and tugging at your clothes. Normally you’d be a little self conscious, especially in the brighter light of your living room and not the dim strategic lightning of your bedroom, but Seungcheol keeps looking at every inch of your body like he’s starving for it, groaning in pleasure at every inch of you that gets revealed, and you’re starting to think he really does like everything about you.

You help push off your pants with shaky hands, but let him loop his thumbs under the thin straps of your underwear and tug those free, a slick wet patch in the middle where you’ve been soaking through the cotton for the past half hour. You help him with your top, until finally you’re completely bare and he’s pushing you to lie back onto the extended length of the chaise while he falls to his knees before you.

“Wow,” He breathes, his hands running along your thighs, “just… wow,”

“Stop,” You can’t stop the blush now, and you fight the urge to reach for a blanket or cross your arms over yourself at his exacting gaze.

“Nope,” He dips his hands to your inner thighs and pushes your legs apart little by little, “I’m going to enjoy every bit of this,”

“Now you’re just trying to embarrass me,” You smile.

His tongue darts out to wet hips lips and he shakes his head, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,”

Your stomach churns, flipping nervously as he looks at you so earnestly.

“I’m serious,” He kisses your knee as he opens one of your legs wider, “I’ve thought about this a thousand times, but you’re so much better than my imagination,”

“Cheol,” You whisper tightly.

“Mm,” He sighs as he tips your hips back, maneuvering your legs wide and open now and shifting your hips to the very edge of the couch so he can tuck smoothly between your open legs, “I wonder if you taste as sweet as I imagined too,”

Your fingers grip down on the cushions, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Look at you,” He sighs pleasantly, his fingers ghosting along the edge of your lower lips, “is all this for me, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” Your breath hitches as his finger just barely touches your seam.

“You got this wet just from grinding on my lap?” He smiles, his teeth catching his thick bottom lip.

“Cheol,” It’s all you can manage, you really didn’t know he was like this.

His eyes soften up though at the sound of his name on your lips, and he kisses your thigh tenderly before looking back up to you, “Doing good? Okay?”

“Mhm,” You’re fine, you are, except you think you might come the second he touches you and you’re a little terrified at just how intense he is from minute one.

“y/n,” He squeezes you a little.

“I’m good,” You breathe, “I promise,”

“Okay,” He kisses your skin again and nods, “just relax, okay?”

“I’m relaxed,” You answer too quickly and one of his eyebrows goes high.

“Mhm,” He eases up on his knees a little to see your face better and smooths his hand from your leg to your hip to your stomach, “what’s going on?”

“This is just a little surreal,” You admit, “isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” He releases your legs and shifts up so he can lean over your body, catching your mouth again in a soft kiss, “it is, but do you trust me?”

“Of course,” You kiss him back.

“Then you should know,” He nuzzles your nose with his, “that all I want to do right now is make you come on my face until you can’t think, and after that if you still want to take this further we can, but baby, I really don’t care what we do tonight. I just want to be with you,”

Your mouth runs dry, and you can feel your core throbbing hard between your legs, your heart fluttering fast.

“So, please, can I make you come?” He smiles, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I think you want me to,”

“Yes,” The nervous knots in your stomach release, “please, Coups,”

His nose scrunches as he laughs, kissing his way down your chest, “It’s Coups now?”

“Cheol,” You whine, “you’re stalling,”

“It’s called foreplay,” He licks a firm line between your breasts and moves lower, “have you not been getting fucked right, princess?”

“F-fuck,” Your back arches as his lips travel down over your belly, eyes slipping closed, “Seungcheol,”

He shakes his head, his hair brushing against your skin, “No more baby?” He makes a sulky noise with his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Come on princess, call me baby,”

Your mind is spinning, and you gasp sharply as his fingers finally slide through your wet slit and land at the apex, pressing deliciously down over your throbbing clit, “Ch-Cheol, fuck, oh fuck, baby,”

“There she is,” He groans, and as his fingers fall away and his lips take their place. He licks a deep stripe through your folds and groans, spreading your legs open wide with his hands anchored on the backs of your thighs, “You’re perfect,”

You moan as he sucks the tender bud of your clit into his mouth.

“I’m going to do this everyday,” He pants, licking another stripe, exploring every inch of your cunt with his tongue, “you’ll be my dessert every night,”

“Ah,” Your head rocks back as pleasure lights up your spine, “baby,”

“Mm,” He groans into your core, burying his face against you and alternating perfectly between sharp sucks and flicks of his tongue.

You are moving fast, from nothing to desperate something in the span of a couple of hours, but honestly you’ve never felt safer and better and more held than this. His hands roam your body, seeking every soft place he can grab and squeeze and hold onto, and you just know the bruises on your hips will be worth it when he finally fucks you.

“Come on,” He tips your hips back to get better access, wrapping his arms around your thick thighs, “don’t be shy,”

“Oh, shit,” Your hand flies down to grip his hair and anchor your position as he manhandles you, your other hand gripping the cushions, “just like that,”

He sucks harder and flicks the tip of his tongue against your bud again, quickening his pace and listening carefully for your sounds to know what you need. Looking down between your legs you can barely believe the sight, but there he is, Choi Seungcheol with his face glistening. His lips are puffy and red, his eyes hooded, and he grins when he sees you watching before nodding just a little and redoubling his efforts.

Your legs are trembling now, the start of your orgasm building up through the base of your spine and flooding warmth into your belly, and if he wasn’t holding you so tightly you’re sure you’d snap.

“Baby,” You whine, your voice sounding not quite your own as heat floods in your chest, “oh, God, please don’t stop,”

He sucks hard, shifting to kiss your core and push the tender muscle of his tongue inside you, “I’ve got you,” he pants as he works his tongue faster, “I’ve got you,”

He’s a mess, wet with slick across cheeks and sweat on his brow, and you think for a split second you might actually be in love with this man already, no one has ever, ever treated your body quite like this. As he shifts to tease your clit again, building the pleasure up and up higher, you grip down on his hair harder.

“I’m,” You stammer out, your back arching and your mouth falling slack, “I’m gonna,”

He nods into you but doesn’t stop the pace of his tongue one bit.

“I’m,” You gasp again, “coming, fuck, I’m coming,”

It hits you all at once, punctuated with his sharp suck to your clit and your legs snap shut around his head, your body wrenching sideways as the wave takes you from conscious to that hazy middle space of pleasure. You can barely breathe, you can't even think, all you can do is feel pulse after pulse of pleasure.

“Fuck,” He curses, and your brain connects enough to realize your legs are still snapped tightly shut around his ears but you can’t get your body to respond, “yeah, fuck, there you go,”

Everything you are is trembling in his hands.

“I could fucking die happy,” He says, shifting to nip your plush thigh with his teeth, his hands gripping down on your curves, “right here between your legs,”

You make a sound, you think, and he chuckles against your skin.

“Mm-mm,” He sighs pleasantly, his hands running from your thighs to your hips and down to cup your backside, “you’re fucking gorgeous, y/n, I love every fucking inch of you,”

“Y-yeah?” Your eyes flutter open.

“Mhm,” He flicks his tongue over your clit once more, eliciting a deep shudder from your hips before he says, “I can’t wait to fuck you,”

Your legs start to relax, and you look down, “Then fuck me,”

“I want another first,” He shakes his head, “please, let me make you come again, sweetheart,”

“Oh,” You shiver as he kisses your slit again, letting his tongue linger, “fuck,”

He sighs, “This pussy,”

“Cheol,” You blush hard.

“I would do anything,” He smiles, flicking your clit again with his tongue, “for this perfect fucking pussy,”

“Anything?”

He goes still between your legs and then he nods, wetting his lips with his tongue, pressing a kiss to your quivering cunt, and looking up over your body to meet your eyes, “Anything.”

“Will you come up here?” You reach for him, “Will you hold me?”

He eases your legs down off his shoulders and shifts up, “Yeah, of course,”

“Will you,” You nearly come again just at the sight of a sizeable wet spot on his sweats, and you tug at his shirt to try and silently communicate your need, “I want to touch you too,”

“Mhm,” He stands up, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can, and when he pushes down his boxer briefs your muscles clench.

When you were younger, a teenager inexperienced with sex and boys, you imagined his cock. You saw the faint outline of it once through a pair of athletic shorts and you wondered what he might look like naked. You wondered if you would like his body. You wondered if he would like yours too. You can’t really remember what you imagined Seungcheol’s cock to look like, but you know this is better. It’s long, but not too long, like the guys who can’t fit it in all the way without smashing painfully into your cervix, but it’s thick. His cock is heavy, deserving of the word, and perfectly straight until the very end where it curls up towards his abdomen.

You want him inside you so badly you could cry.

“You okay?” He says as he slides up the couch next to you, your naked hip against his.

“A little nervous,” You admit quietly, turning towards him on the cushions and drawing him closer with your hand on his shoulder.

“Me too,” He says softly, maneuvering until one arm is wrapped around your back and your head is pillowed on his other, your chests flush against each other, his cock trapped between your stomachs.

“God,” You shift closer to him, tangling your legs together, “you’re so hard,”

He nods, sighing at the way your skin drags against his, “You’re making me insane,”

“Good,” You smile, finding his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him and dipping your tongue into his mouth as you deepen the kiss.

He groans against you, and you snake a hand between your bodies to wrap around his aching cock. “Oh, fuck,” he curses as you pump your hand up and down his shaft, “easy, it’s been a while,”

“Yeah?” You soften your grip a little, rolling your hand at the tip and feeling precum bead up and smear on your belly, “Saving yourself for me, baby?”

He moans softly, his eyes rolling shut, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe,” You kiss the corner of his mouth and pump his cock a little harder.

“L-let me touch you,” He pants, his hand pushing your hips back just enough so that he can fit a hand in between your thighs, “can I touch you?”

It’s dizzying how much he begs to pleasure you, and you’re starting to think maybe this is part of what he needs, but you’re still new to each other’s bodies and learning and you suppose you’ll have time to figure all of this out. It’s not just a one night thing.

“Touch me,” You open your legs for him and he immediately slides his fingers down your slit to your aching entrance.

“Don’t stop,” He urges you and you realize at the feeling of his fingers you stopped pumping your hand.

You smile, kissing him again and finding a new pace with a stroke of your hand and a roll of your wrist, “You feel so good, baby,”

“So do you,” He pants, and then he pushes two fingers inside your slick walls.

You choke out a wine, pushing your hips forwards into his hand so he can go deeper.

“God,” He holds you firm with his other hand, “you’re too tight,”

“Too tight?” You huff, still working your hand over his cock, “never gotten that complaint before,”

“Not a complaint, princess,” He teases, drawing his fingers out of your channel before thrusting back inside, “but I need to prep you a little, I don’t want to hurt you,”

Your muscles clench down around his fingers.

He laughs softly, “Oh, yeah, babygirl? You want me inside?”

You nod, a whine trapped on your lips, “Cheol, please,”

“Shh, shh,” He shifts, effectively sliding down the couch a little more while you slide up, and he rests his head on your shoulder and adjusts the angle of his arm so he can pump his fingers in and out of your channel at a steadier pace. He watches the way his fingers disappear inside you with rapt attention, cursing when he feels you grip down on him, “You want to come again?”

“P-please,” You’re doing your best to keep working your hand, but at the way his fingers are curled inside you and pressing rhythmically against your sweet spot you think you’re about to see stars again.

“Fuck, baby,” He sighs, “you’re so sexy,”

All you can do is moan, grip down on his shoulder and let him have you.

When he pushes in a third finger to stretch you, you gasp tightly at the sensation, the pleasure rocketing up your back and making your brain buzz.

“Are you close?” He pumps his hand harder, finding your nearby nipple with his tongue and your body arches again.

“Close,” You pant, your legs widening as you try to brace yourself, your hand falling away from his cock and gripping down on his thigh as the rolling wave of your orgasm starts to wash up over you.

“Come for me,” He’s gripping you hard, like you belong to him and he wants only to please you, and his words combined with the way his hands lay on you leaves you coming apart at the seams.

The sound of it is obscene, wet and filthy and pornagraphic and you’ve never in your life had sex with someone for the first time and had it be anything close to perfect. Your bodies want each other with such need. It's entirely outside your conscious brain, and you think if he can love your body like this then maybe he can love all the other parts of you, and you never want to let him go.

Your orgasm hits you harder than the first, locking your body up in spasmodic elation, and he curls around you when you twist to make sure he works you through the crest of it, his hand only slowing down when the pulses of pleasure start to ease.

When you come back to earth, you’re pressed face down onto the couch instead of up, your cheek against the cool fabric below you. Seungcheol is wrapped around your body like he’s glued to your back, and you feel his soft breath against your cheek and shoulder, his easy kisses on whatever part of you he can reach. His hand is still tucked underneath you and between your legs, cupping your cunt warmly and just holding you as you come down.

“Cheol?” You murmur, your brain almost a little foggy at the heady feeling of two full body orgasms.

“Hey, there you are,” He kisses you again, “feeling okay?”

“Mm,” You nod, “so, so good,”

He smiles, “Yeah? Did I get you?”

You laugh against the cushions, shaking your head, “Babe, I just came so hard I blacked out,” your body stretches, pressing your core into the cup of his hand, “you definitely got me,”

“Mm,” He rocks his hand and you sigh a little overstimulated sound, “should we stop here?”

He doesn’t know, you realize it suddenly, he has no idea how badly you want him. He’s been so focused on your body, your pleasure, your wants, but you can see it now in the hesitation in voice that he still doesn’t know for sure if you want to be here with him or if you just wanted someone.

He’s been touching you like it might be the only time, his only chance to have you and hold you in his arms. Didn’t he believe you when you said it wasn’t one night?

“Seungcheol,” You wriggle in his arms, “baby,”

“What’s wrong?” He gives you the space to roll and you twist against him.

You see his eyes when you turn, like he’s waiting for something and you curse yourself inside for not telling him like he was telling you. You smile, pushing his shoulder until he’s flat on his back, “What’s wrong is that you’re not inside me,”

“O-oh,” He gasps as you hook a leg over his hips and straddle him, your body hovering over his prone cock.

“Mhm,” You drop your body over him, your slick slit nestling directly over his cock, “but I’ve been so selfish,”

He shakes his head to protest but you lay your fingers over his lips to stop him.

“I want you, Cheol,” You drag your hips and find the head of his cock so you can dip and press it against your entrance, “so fucking much,”

He’s breathing heavy against your hand, your eyes locked on eachother.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” You stay steady above him.

He nods, just a little.

“I’ve never wanted anybody like I want you,” You tell him, “never,”

His lip quirks a little, a small smile as he presses a kiss to your fingers, “I’m all yours,” he whispers.

You sink your hips back in one smooth flush motion, taking him inside you to the hilt without warning, and his head falls back as he moans. He’s stretching you out wide and full, his thick cock pushing into every spot inside you that you didn’t know could feel like this.

“Oh my fuck,” Your body moves on it’s own, rocking your hips in a circle to take him deeper and roll your clit across his pubic bone, “Cheol, Cheol,”

He blinks hard, finding your eyes at the sound of his voice, “Yeah?”

You feel strangely like you might cry at the rush of endorphins, and you roll your hips again, whining out a need, “Hold me, please? Please, touch me,”

Seungcheol softens, his hands unclench on the cushions below him and he coasts his warm hands over your thighs, your hips, up and down your sides, “I’m right here,” he murmurs.

You relish in the feeling of it, and you direct them from their wandering comfort to a landing place on your hips, the perfect soft place for him to grip in with his fingers and keep you steady while you work him. He follows your lead, watching you above him with no hesitation, and his mouth falls slack when he watches you get your position right on your knees and lift up to draw his cock out of your warm, wet channel.

“y/n,” He pants tightly.

You sink back down hard and he groans, cursing and no doubt leaving a pretty bouquet of bruises where his fingers press down.

“Your cock,” You moan as you bounce again, finding a steady rhythm, “you feel so perfect,”

“Yeah?” He bounces you, teeth clenched as he tries not to come too early.

“Made for me,” You grind down and jolt against the pleasure, “never felt something this good,”

He groans, a hot pant of breath and then he stutters his hips upwards, “D-don’t, I’ll come,”

“Good,” You sink down and back up, feeling him stretch you open again and again.

“Come here,” He reaches up for you, tugging you down by your neck to get you close and you can feel him suddenly reposition and change the angle, take back control as he pins you to his chest and pumps his hips.

The way his cock punches into you, curved and pressing directly into your g-spot, makes you choke out a moan and dig your nails into his chest.

“Say you love my cock,” He pants suddenly in your ear, “if it feels so good, say it, tell me,”

You moan sharply, “I fucking love your cock,”

“Fuck yes,” His hand claps down on your ass and grips you tight as his hips piston upwards.

“Ah, ah,” Your legs are trembling again, “I can’t,”

“Yes, you can,” He pants, “I want to feel you come on my cock, babygirl, squeeze me,”

Your eyes slam shut.

“So fucking tight,” He breathes, “so wet,”

“For you,” You choke out and hips stutter.

“Oh, f-fuck,” He pushes up hard, but instead of thrusting he locks his hips there with your bodies pressed flush together and at the sound of his sudden moan, the way his hands lock tight on your body, the way warmth floods your belly, you know he’s coming.

Your brain somersaults and you rock your hips, trying to keep catching the friction against your clit to help push you over the edge, “Ah,” you whine, “no, please,”

He doesn’t go anywhere though, he just presses his hips up to keep giving you the pressure you need and holds your hips down with his broad hands, and you hear him hiss at the overstimulation but he groans and manages, “Come baby, you’re so close, there you go, there you go,”

You’re saying something, but you can’t really hear it. All you can feel is the bubble about to burst inside you as you drag yourself fast and frantic against his body. You’re needy and seconds away, falling into trembles again.

“So beautiful,” He mumbles, dragging your mouth up to his and locking you in a heady kiss.

“Cheol!” You squeak against him, body cracking apart into shakes as you come, probably louder than you wanted to as you fall into the sweet space between his neck and shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” His softening cock slides out as you come, but he slides a hand between your thighs and rubs fast circles on your swollen clit, “fuck, look at you, god, you’re such a mess,”

Your brain is dizzy as he talks you through the edges of your orgasm.

“So wet,” He bites down softly on your shoulder, “soaked for me and full of my cum, fuck,”

As you collapse on his chest, your orgasm receding, his hand slows, but his fingers stay slipped between your folds in the messy mixture of your slick wetness and his release. You are a mess, but he seems to like it and if you’re benign honest so do you.

“I’m so,” You breathe out, shaky and exhausted, “god, I don’t know,”

“Mhm,” He sighs, and finally he slides his fingers out of you to rest on your hip, his other hand stroking a line up and down your back while you recover together.

You need to get up, run to the bathroom and get the shower started, but you’re boneless and floating and he’s just the perfect temperature, so for a little while you don’t move.

When he shifts his hips under yours to readjust your eyes pop open and you start to move, “Am I hurting you?”

“Shh,” He wraps his arms around you and gathers you tight to his chest, “don’t you dare go anywhere,”

“Yeah?”

“You’re perfect,” He repeats and you smile against his skin, “next time I want you sitting on my face,”

You laugh against him, “Next time?”

He’s quiet, his fingers still dragging up and down your spine, “If you want,”

You shift up in his arms, settling on his chest so that you can see his face, “So much,”

He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face, as he smiles, “I missed you, you know,”

Tears prick at the back of your eyes and your throat goes thick, and you don’t trust your voice but you nod and press your lips to his, “I missed you too, all the time,”

He gives you a moment, just staying calm and kind with his hands, and then he leans up to capture your lips once more, this kiss so much softer and more familiar from the frantic emotion a few minutes ago. His kisses travel from your lips to your forehead and then he smooths back the tangled mess of your hair, “We should get cleaned up,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?”

“Like I might not ever walk again,” You joke wryly.

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” He leans to look you over, “I got a little carried away,”

You shake your head, “No, I’m perfect, I promise,”

“We didn’t talk much beforehand,” He notes, brushing his palm over the swell of your hip, dipping at your hip crease, and tracing up over again at the curve of your thigh, “I just want to be sure you’re feeling okay with everything,”

“I’d tell you if I wasn’t,” You press, “you know I would,”

“Good,” He sighs.

You stretch on top of him, your knees aching from your curled position and you smile, “You want to get a shower? We can share the hot water,”

“You’re insatiable,” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Not for sex,” You slap his chest lightly as you climb off him, wincing at the sudden stretch of your knees, “I can barely move,”

“I like a challenge,” He sighs, rolling off the chaise and stretching long and you catch yourself watching the strong flex of his back, the cut of his shoulders, the curve of his ass and his muscular thighs.

Maybe you could rally.

Seungcheol turns and his eyes flick over your body too, “Yeah,” he nods, “I think I can get one more out of you,”

“My shower is shockingly small, so,” You reach for him, guiding him down the hall with you, “we’ll see,”

“I said I like a challenge,” He shrugs, and all of a sudden you can’t stop laughing.

Your shower is small, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Seungcheol ends up crouched on his knees anyways, with one of your legs hitched over his shoulder while he takes his sweet time with his tongue bringing you up to your softest, easiest orgasm of the night. You trade lazy kisses in the warmth after, the suds long gone and your fingers pruned by the time you fall into bed.

You don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does. You talk for as long as you can keep your eyes open, stories of years ago when you saw him almost every single day. You whisper late into the night, until finally he falls asleep first, his head lolled to the side, but his hand still wrapped tightly around yours.

You tumble into sleep right alongside him, his skin smelling of sweet peach and nectarine.

In the morning, you wake up to something cold suddenly pressed to your cheek and you start to stitch together the world around you in quick threads.

“Kkuma,” Seungcheol’s voice reaches you first, a hushed whisper as he tries to get his dog’s attention, “come here girl, let her sleep,”

You groan a little, and you realize the something cold was Kkuma’s very wet nose against your cheek. Instead of listening to Seungcheol, she presses her nose to you again and follows it up with a lick, her panting excitement pushing you from laying on your side to your back as she collapses over your chest.

“Kkuma!” He exclaims quietly, “down girl!”

Your eyes start to pop open, and this time you see his dog’s fluffy white face inches from your own, delighted that you’re awake.

“Kkuma,” He tries to drop his voice to a lower tone to get her attention.

“It’s okay,” You yawn, reaching up to scratch Kkuma behind the ears, “I’m awake now,”

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol moves into your bedroom, and you can see he’s fully dressed and has been for some time, “I didn’t think she would just jump on you like that,”

Your brain is still a little sluggish and you rub your hand over your face, “Did you go home?”

He grins and nods at your sleepy question, the answer obvious from the dog on your chest, “Yeah, I needed to run home and take her for a walk, I hope you don’t mind I let myself back in,”

“Not at all,” You smile up at him, “I’m just sad you’re not in the cuddle pile,”

“We can fix that,” He tosses his beanie on your nightstand and then holds up a little carrier containing two coffees and a few little pastry bags, “and I bring gifts,”

“From that place by your apartment?” You brighten, recognizing the stamped logos on the cups.

“Mhm,” He passes over your cup, “sugar, no cream,”

“You remembered,” You push yourself up in bed, Kkuma adjusting herself to snuggle into your side, and accept the cup, “thank you,”

He lays his heavy denim jacket on the chair by your dresser and slips back into bed with you, dragging the covers back over both your legs, “Of course, I did, not that much could have changed in a year, right?”

“Mm-mm,” Your legs slide together as you tuck under his arm and settle back into his chest.

His fingers play with the ends of your hair while he sips his coffee, and then he sighs, “y/n,”

Your stomach freezes and you wonder if you’re about to get let down easy. If waking up in the morning cleared his head, if a text from Mingyu changed his mind, if on the trip back to his place he worked out the right way to break your heart, if he practiced it out loud in his car with the dog.

“What’s up?” You say, hoping you sound far more casual than you feel.

“About Gyu,” He exhales heavy, his coffee leaning against his thigh as he gathers his words, “listen,”

“Don’t,” You murmur, pressing your eyes closed, “please don’t go,”

“Go?” He asks.

“I’ll tell him, and I know he’ll be fine after the shock wears off,” You twist in the bed to look up at him, “please just stay, last night was… Cheol, please just think about this,”

His brows knit together tight in confusion and he sets his coffee on your bedside table to free up his hand and brush it along your cheek, “I was going to say, about Gyu, I’m meeting him for lunch at two. I’d like to tell him about us today,”

“You what,” You blink.

“I’d like to tell him that I picked you up after your date,” He says, “and that we got to talking, and that we kissed,”

You can almost see Mingyu’s wide puppy eyes as he realizes where the story is going to go.

“And that I asked you out on a date,” Seungcheol finishes, “and he’s going to ask me a lot of other questions which I definitely am not going to answer, except one thing,”

You swallow nervously, your coffee almost tipping to the side forgotten in your hands until he plucks it up and sets it to the side.

“He’s going to ask me if I’m serious about you,” He says calmly, like you’ve discussed this before, “and I’m going to say yes, but that’s the kind of thing you should know before your brother does.”

“You’re serious about me,” You say it back, your heart picking up as the words come off your tongue.

“Yes,” He nods, unequivocal, “and I hope you feel the same way because before I drive across town and tell my best friend I’m in love with his sister, I just need to know if you feel even a tenth of that,”

Your heart should be pounding, your stomach fluttering, your body flooding with emotion at the casual confession, but all you feel is calm. Mingyu told you once that life would fall into place, you just never thought you’d have that realization while it was happening around you.

You try to keep a straight face when you say, “There’s only one problem,”

“Okay,” He says, but you watch his hand fidget in his lap.

“You never actually asked me out on a date,” You point out with a smile, “and I don’t want to lie to Mingyu about anything,”

He grins, his tongue dragging against one side of his teeth as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re right,” he says, “that’s my mistake, will you go out with me?”

“I’d love to,” You lean into him so you can press a quick kiss to his lips and take his hand in yours, lacing his anxiously twitching fingers with yours to hold him steady, “and if Gyu gives you any lip about this,” you kiss him again, “tell him I’m in love with his best friend,”

“You are?” His fingers tighten on your hand.

“Mhm,” You suddenly can’t keep your lips away from his, “and you tell him that if he does anything to ruin this, that I’ll make him sorry,”

“Now that,” He laughs, “that I believe,”

You pull him down to you and your body without another word, and with a hushed apology he pushes Kkuma off the bed so he can splay you out in the middle of the mattress. He takes you fast, hurried and full of need now that you have so much time ahead of you for slow. For now, you have a lot of catching up to do.

When you finally make it out of bed the coffee is cold and Seungcheol is late for lunch.

#honeyhotteoks updates #honeyhotteoks fics #seventeen ff #seventeen fic #svt fanfic #svt ff #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #scoups #scoups fic #scoups smut #scoups ff #seungcheol smut #seungcheol fluff

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poguehearted77 · 1 month ago

Text

After Hours

summary: Rafe lets his jealousy get the best of him and it pisses you off, but he makes it up to you after hours.

"Y/n, he's doing it again" Carly whispers over your shoulder as you work on drying off the bar glasses and putting them back on the shelf. You sigh on the outside but your insides warm at the thought of Rafe staring at the back of your figure. This is how it always goes.

He always wants to see you, claiming he can't get enough while you pull away, dedicated to your job. So Rafe decides why not kill two birds with one stone and come see you at work.

Unfortunately, wherever Rafe goes, his posse follows, and considering they're notorious party animals, they can't seem to hold their liquor. "Hey, Let's get another round goin' over here!" Topper shouts, words slurred and eyes heavy-lidded. Anyone within a mile radius could hear the cheers that came from their table at the announcement, and it made you dread going over there, but it's your job.

Not that you hated where you worked, it was right in the heart of figure eight, not too far from where you lived and it pays well most days, but drunk kooks pay even better.

As you walked over with a tray of shots, their hollers grew louder in volume and the environment made you nervous. Not because of the noise at their table, but because of the silence that Rafe held as you placed everything down.

His quiet, blue gaze lingered over your curves as you smiled at the boys. "Wow, you're just too pretty to be working at this hour. How about you pull up a chair and join us?" Topper's hand gently holds your upper arm and Rafe finally speaks up.

Prompted by a flare of jealousy, "Get your hands off her, Top." Rafe's voice overpowers the table to a still silence that even startled you. Topper immediately moves his hand as Kelce 'Oohs'. "Shit man, my bad." He apologizes. Rafe sends you an apologetic glance that you ignore before hastily collecting your tray and returning to the bar.

But it was too late. You were already upset.

The bar had just let out its last customer and you worked on wiping down the tables, most of the lights off and the blinds shut. Some street lights managed to seep through the cracks in the shutters which left golden shadows on the black marble countertops.

It takes a knock on the door to finally pull your head up from the task on hand where you are locking eyes with Rafe on the other side of the glass. You stepped towards the door, not unlocking it.

Your arms crossed and your expression conveyed what he already knew. "Open the door." Voice muffled but you still hear him loud and clear, you huff, knowing he would break the door down if he needed to. You opened it.

"You know I'm not a fucking child, right Rafe?" You sneer, and he locks the door behind him. "I know that. I just hate seeing other guys hit on you. It does things to me- shit makes me just wanna-" his expression contorts, unable to describe the emotion.

"I know, but you gotta trust me. You think I like when that bitch Holly from the yacht club has her hands on you? No, but I trust you." You throw the cloth down on the bar.

Watching as Rafe rounded the island to be on your side, finger under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him. His stone-cold blue eyes run warm as he grins down at you, "I don't give a fuck what Holly does, cuz at the end of the day all I'm thinkin' bout is you."

He leans down, his breath ghosting over your lips. Just barely giving you a taste of what you so desperately need. "I still don't forgive you." You quip, hardly able to step away before his big hand is wrapped around your neck, a light pressure applied, a warning.

"You think I'm lying? I'll show you who the fuck this dick belongs to. How about that, yeah?"

In a blur of heated kisses and hot touches, your clothes were scattered across the floor and your bra had landed somewhere on the rack, forgotten as Rafe fucked you mindless over the counter.

His thick cock pummeling in and out of your soaked cunt. He grabs a fistful of your dark curls, pulling you up so your back can meet his chest. "Now tell me, baby. Who does this pussy belong to, huh?" He hisses through clenched teeth, overwhelmed by the tight grip your walls provided him.

"M-me." You moan pathetically and it makes him laugh. He lets you go, and your upper half falls back onto the counter unceremoniously. He pulled out slowly, all the way until only the tip remained buried. "Try again."

He plummets back inside your core, his tip kissing your cervix and you scream, eyes filling with tears as you blabber, begging him not to stop. "Let's try that again, yeah? Who does this pussy belong to."

"You! You-- fuck! It's yours, all yours. No one else's."

He grins, he already knew this, of course. He just liked hearing you say it.

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petew21-blog · 3 months ago

Text

Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

#male possession #family possession #possession male #body posession #Soul swap #male transformation #straight to gay #Criminal possession

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genshin-obsessed · 2 years ago

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When Someone Flirts with You! | Honkai Star Rail

Someone saw this coming and I'm very proud of you for figuring it out. Yeah, I've been getting into star rail and I thought I'd just write since I can't really think of genshin things to write right now lol this is barely edited, so have mercy <3 idk tags rn so please help me out :') ✧ Includes: Dan Heng, Welt, Sampo, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Blade ✧ Extra: Luocha and Blade might be ooc, I'm not too familiar with them as of right now. ✧ Come one, come all! See what happens when someone flirts with you in front of your men!

Dan Heng

Dan Heng is a really private person, he’s not a fan of showing off everything. So he’s not one to flaunt you around, but it’s not hard to tell you’re both in a relationship. He’s around you like… all the time.

He’s not one to follow around like a helicopter boyfriend, but he’s got an eye on you. If he sees someone bothering you, he’s behind them in an instant.

0/10. Dan Heng’s not super scary so they could ignore him and continue flirting with you. For a moment, he’ll just stand there as he listens to some of the dumb things they’re gonna say. You two make fun of them later for it. But then he hears something along the lines of, “come on, i’ll treat you better.” he don’t like that.

How is this creep better than him?! They couldn’t even tell you were uncomfortable. Dan Heng will usually place a hand on their shoulder and his grip gets tighter every second the creep is still in front of you. Paired with his glare…

10/10 the creep is gone. You sigh in relief and walk to Dan Heng quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist. He immediately hugs back, stroking your hair a little.

“Let’s go somewhere else. I don’t like it here anymore.” You agreed.

Welt

Well, he doesn’t hang around you 24/7, he’s a busy man. But it’s also not hard to tell you’re dating either. Welt isn’t crazy about PDA, but he’ll give you a quick kiss every now and then and often gives you hugs (per your request).

He believes you’re capable of taking care of yourself, so he’s often not paying attention. That doesn’t mean he won’t look over at you every now and then. This time, he just happened to see some creepy creep trying to creep up on you.

“Are you ok, (y/n)?” Is the first thing he asks when he walks up to you. He will literally ignore the existence of the creep beside him. Usually what happens here is that you’ll nod and he’ll “accidentally” shove the creepy away and urge you to come talk with him and his friends. The creep is usually so confused they walk away. But sometimes- sometimes- they follow.

Welt does NOT like that. I mean it was one thing to not take the hint from your face, but then to stop you when you’re actively trying to leave?

Welt will turn around and just glare at them. Like that silent, “I will kill you” kinda glare. It’s a staring contest for a moment before the creepy creep just kinda turns away and leaves. Sometimes, Welt does have to smack them with his lil cane. Sometimes.

“Anyway, we’re over here. Would you like a drink?”

Sampo

Sampo is all over you, usually. He loves you and the world should know? Sometimes, he can go too far so just let him know. Anyway, since he’s always over you, people know you’re dating him.

Usually at parties and events, he’s hanging off your arm, but sometimes he’s gotta go talk to some of his other friends and acquaintances. He keeps an eye on you.

Here’s the thing, he’ll come up and flirt with you too but try to one up the creep. “You look fine, darling,” - the creep. “You look so beautiful, every star in the sky and the moons pale in comparison.” - Sampo.

0/10. Of course, the creep gets irritated and asks what the hell Sampo is doing. Sampo just gives him a condescending smile and says, “that’s my partner you’re talking to. I’m not gonna let you just creep up on them.” There’s… a glint in his eyes that’s unnerving. Even you can see it.

69/10. The creep runs off, making some excuse or whatever. Sampo watches them for a minute before turning to you and smiling. You rush to give him a hug and he happily returns it.

“Wanna go home? Seems like that idiot trashed your mood a little.”

Gepard

Gepard is a very shy guy and he’s not one to be all touchy-touchy without you doing it first. He gets all flustered and looks away… but he’ll lean into your touch.

He usually sticks around you, keeping your attention so no creepies come by, but sometimes he gets pulled away. He always lets you know he’ll be right back and leaves for just a few moments. Enough for a creepy to sneak in >:0

When Gepard notices the creep, he wastes no time walking over to you. “Is everything ok?” He asked, looking at you. If you shook your head, that was it. The captain of the silvermane’s came out!

The first glare is usually a 50/50. Sometimes, the creeps acted all annoyed and walk away, pretending they’re not scared but other times… they challenge him. Gepard just places a hand on their shoulder and shoves them back. It’s actually surprisingly strong- they’ll fall over sometimes.

10/10, that usually sends them running. On rare occasions there’s that ONE creepy who just stands up and tries to take him on lmao. You know to take a step back because Gepard kinda skips the arresting and just goes to ass kicking. And he’s the shy boyfriend.

“So… we should go now. Yeah, no, just leave the creep there.”

Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan isn't the most affectionate boyfriend, but he doesn’t mind letting people know you two are together. Depends on your comfort level.

He’s a busy man, so at that fancy event, he can’t always be at your side but he tries to keep you by him. Of course, you decided to go get a drink, he happily agreed. You went off and he kept greeting more officials. You didn’t return, so he looked over and he just saw you turning away from a creep who just grabbed your arm!

Jing Yuan elegantly excuses himself and basically sneaks up behind the guy. He’ll stand there which brings you tons of relief, enough to let the creep ramble and ramble and ramble. “I could take you out to dinner, (nickname you don’t like). I’ll buy you (food you don’t like).” “Actually, they don’t like that. And they don’t like being called that.” The creep jumps away and is standing beside you at that point.

5/10, honestly, some just get scared and leave. There’s the other half though that just kinda scoff and look at you. Before they can even say anything, Jing Yuan grabs them by the shirt and force them to look at him. “Do not speak to them like that. Do not look at them, and don’t even think about them. You leave now or I’ll drag you out myself.”

10/10!!!!!!!!! They are GONE. No sign of them for MILES. Jing Yuan huffs and looks down at you. At this point, everyone’s looking at you two, making you extremely uncomfortable. He’ll stand beside you and pull you close, using that half of his jacket thing to cover you.

“We can leave. I’ll deal with everything else later. Come on.”

Luocha

This man is unpredictable. Sometimes, he’s grabbing your hand to prove your dating, others are just a straight kiss. You don’t mind. Either way, the world knows you two are together.

Luocha doesn’t mind leaving you alone, he’s got confidence in himself and you. That doesn’t mean he’s not there as your backup. Creeps creep on a daily- he’s gotchu. He sees the creep and he’s already walking toward you.

“No!” You exclaimed with a frown, “I'm not interested. Leave me alone.” Luocha didn’t mind scaring the creep off… but it was when they grabbed you that kinda set him off. “Hey.” Is all he says as he grabs their wrist to shove their hand away. 3/10. SOMETIMES people do get scared off by his demeanor. But there’s always that one. Our favorite.

For those guys, he’ll just get physical. There’s just this switch that goes off when it comes to you. 10/10. They’re either gone or out like a light.

“Come, we should go somewhere else.”

Blade

Lol. First of all, people know you’re dating this dude because you’re still alive while hanging off his arm. He’s not affectionate in public other than some sweet words. “You look nice today.” “I think you did well.” Things like that.

Blade can… be a helicopter boyfriend because he just has a 6th sense for creepies. You can be doing your own thing and he’s just standing there. Menacingly. There are days where he’s away from you, but he keeps a sharp eye on you. Then he notices the creep.

“Go away.” You say with a huff as you turn away. “Stop!” You yell, trying to pull your hand away. Suddenly, the creep is silent and frozen. You probably know exactly what happened.

You feel your arm come loose and look behind you to see Blade pointing… well his blade at the creep. He doesn’t say anything and the creep can’t help but just feel the icy fear in their veins. 10/10, Blade doesn’t fail.

“Thank you.” You say with a sigh as you run and hug his arm, looking up at him. Blade sighs and looks down at you, feeling that relief in his chest knowing that you’re fine and right beside him where you should be.

“It’s because you look cute today. Let’s go somewhere else.”

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #sampo x reader #welt x reader #luocha x reader #gepard x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader

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loulovingho · 2 months ago

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Tommy and Eddie's Wild Adventure

**If you start reading and feel a bit concerned, please scroll all the way to the bottom for tags/spoilers. Otherwise, enjoy the ride!** (read here or on ao3)

“I'm gonna get us an Uber,” Tommy said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. He was a slightly off balance, the couple drinks he and Eddie had hitting him harder than usual tonight. Before he could get his phone unlocked, it slipped from his hand and directly down the drainage grate underneath him.

“Damn it!” He bent down to try and reach through the grate to get it. It was useless though. His hand was too big, plus the phone had already sunk beneath God knows how many feet of water and sludge.

“It's fine,” Eddie said, tapping his back. “We'll use mine.”

He started feeling around for his phone, then paused, his lips pursed together.

“What's wrong?” Tommy asked, standing back up.

“I don't have my phone. I must've left it at home.”

Tommy sighed, rolling his eyes. “Great! So we're stuck here then. We're gonna have to-”

“Tommy, shut up!” Eddie whisper-yelled, eyes wide as he gripped onto Tommy's shoulder.

“What? Eddie, what are you-”

“Shut. Up!” He demanded. He pointed behind Tommy. “Look!”

At the end of the parking lot there was a dumpster, mostly hidden out of view. There was a small amount of light that glowed from a nearby lamppost, just enough for Tommy and Eddie to see two men tossing what appeared to be a body into the dumpster.

Eddie nearly pushed Tommy behind a tree before hiding behind him, both boys holding their breath until the men drove off and they were alone in the parking lot.

“Oh my God,” Tommy said, eyes wide. “Oh my God.”

“Go, go!” Eddie pushed Tommy forward, following behind. They carefully but quickly made their way over to the dumpster, where a body laid on top of boxes and bags of garbage.

“We've gotta get her out!” Eddie said, already pushing himself up and into the dumpster. Once inside, he checked for a pulse. “She's gone,” he told Tommy.

He shook his head. “Damn it.”

Eddie hoisted the woman over his shoulder. Tommy reached out and grabbed onto her, pulling her out and onto the ground. He took Eddie's hand next and helped him out of the dumpster.

“What do we do?” Tommy asked, staring down at the blonde-haired woman.

“Call 911.”

Tommy huffed out a breath. “We don't have a phone, Eddie!”

“Well we can't just stand here,” Eddie replied. “The killers might come back.”

“Why would they come back?!”

“Have you never watched a Dateline? They come back to like admire their work, you know, like it's a trophy or something.”

Tommy looked around the area, searching for any possibility that someone was watching. “We've gotta go get help.”

“We can't just leave her here.”

“We don't have any other choice!”

“Shh!” Eddie waved his hands, getting Tommy to quiet down. “We- We'll take her.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Take her?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Yeah, we take her with us. To the police station.”

“Just... We just carry the body all the way to the police station? That's like ten miles!”

“I think it's only eight.”

Tommy shook his head. “You're insane, Eddie!”

“You got a better idea?”

*****

“You know they've killed people for less than this,” Tommy said, gripping the woman's legs tightly.

“What? They have not.”

“Oh, yes they have! We get caught carrying this poor woman down the street and next thing you know, we're on death row being asked what our last words are.”

“Whoa!” Eddie exclaimed, his hand slipping from underneath the woman's arm. He adjusted her before continuing. “What would they be?”

“What would what be?”

“Your final words, Man. What would they be?”

“Jesus, Eddie, I don't know. Who thinks about that?”

“I know mine! Watch your step.”

Tommy looked back and took a step left to miss some trash on the ground. “So what are they then?”

“'La muerte es segura, pero su hora es incierta.' It's a Spanish proverb. At least, I think it is. My abuela used to say it.”

“What's it mean?”

“It means death is certain, but its hour is uncertain.”

Tommy stopped dead in his tracks, causing Eddie to nearly topple over the body.

“What the hell?” Eddie shrieked.

“Eddie, that's the stupidest last words I've ever heard.”

“What?! It is not!”

“Yeah, it is. First of all, you're about to get a lethal injection-”

“I'm choosing the electric chair.”

“Whatever. They're literally giving you an exact minute of your death, so your hour is very certain.”

“That's not-”

“And second,” Tommy continued, speaking over him. “You really want that to be the last thing Christopher hears coming out of your mouth? Before you're electrocuted in front of him? Really, Eddie? Think this through.”

“Christopher is not going to be at my electrocution, Tommy. I'll talk to him the day before.”

“Oh, he'll show up,” Tommy replied with absolute certainty. “He will show up.”

“Okay, fine, if my last words are so terrible, then tell me yours. Also, start walking again. She's heavy!”

Tommy rolled his eyes but resumed his walk. “I told you I haven't thought about it.”

“Well, get thinking. Final words. Go.”

“Okay, fine. First, lethal injection, because who the hell chooses electrocution, Man, come on! Second, Evan would be there, so I'd probably look at him and tell him he gave me the best years of my life.”

“Ew!” Eddie gagged. “That sucks. You suck!”

“It's better than your stupid proverb that doesn't make any sense. Okay, I gotta put her down for a second.”

They moved into a little alleyway and placed the woman down gently, then Tommy ran his arm over his forehead, wiping the sweat away. “There's gotta be an easier way to do this.”

Eddie peeked out of the alley, turning back quickly when he spotted people coming their way. “Act cool, act cool!” he exclaimed, leaning against the brick wall with one leg crossed over the other.

Tommy took a couple steps back, plastering himself against a dumpster with an elbow resting over the top.

The people passed without noticing them and they resumed their discussion.

“Okay, let's think, let's think,” Eddie said, bringing a hand to his chin. “Your phone is down a drain, mine is at home. We've got a body here that we can't leave behind, but it's too risky to keep walking along the street. Also, too painful.”

“Excellent recap,” Tommy deadpanned. “Can we start the episode now?”

“You know this attitude your giving is not helping,” Eddie said with a glare. “Why don't you come up with an idea?”

Tommy took a deep breath, then looked past Eddie out toward the street. “Taxi.”

“What is this, 1982? Come on-”

Tommy pointed behind Eddie, making him turn around. There was a taxi parked across the street, a group of women laughing and fixing their dresses as they exited.

“You distract, I'll put the body in the trunk,” Tommy decided, nodding at Eddie.

“Wait, what?”

“Go, Eddie! Before someone else gets the taxi. Go!”

*****

“And what's that button do?” Eddie asked.

“That's the button for the radio,” the taxi driver replied, giving Eddie an odd look. “Are you sure your friend doesn't need help with his luggage?”

“Oh, no, no. He's got it.”

Just then, the trunk slammed shut and Tommy was getting into the taxi. “Could you take us to-”

“Fountain Avenue,” Eddie interrupted. “Anywhere on the street is fine.”

“Sure thing.”

They settled into their seats as the driver headed off, Tommy staring over at Eddie. “The police station is two streets over from Fountain,” he whispered.

“I know. Going right to the police station will look suspicious. We'll walk there from Fountain.”

“They'll see Lillian before that.”

Eddie looked over at Tommy quizzically. “Lillian?”

“Yeah. Lillian.”

“Who the hell is Lillian?”

“Eddie,” Tommy gritted out, eyes darting back and forth from the driver to Eddie. “Lillian.”

“Oh! You mean the dead girl?”

Tommy gave Eddie a punch to the shoulder. “Lillian is our friend. That we're surprising. With the gift. In the trunk.”

“Okay, ow.” Eddie rubbed at the spot on his shoulder, leaning in closer to Tommy. “It's a codename. Got it.”

“Anyway, I think we should get closer to the station.”

“No. We'll deal with Lillian from Fountain. It'll be fine.”

“We're gonna get caught.”

“Then we'll explain.”

“I don't know how you explain that.”

“We'll tell them,” Eddie said in an annoyed tone, “the truth. That we found the bod- Lillian and didn't want to leave her.”

“O- Okay,” the driver interrupted, coming to a stop. “We are a- at your location, sirs.”

“Great!” Tommy clapped his hands together, smiling at the driver through the rearview. “Pop the trunk for me, please. Eddie, pay the man.”

“Oh, no! No payment necessary. I- It's my gift for the night.”

“You sure?” Eddie asked.

“Mhm. Please, it's fine.”

Eddie shrugged. “Alright. Thanks! Have a good night.”

*****

“I'm never going out with you again,” Tommy said, back in position with his hands under Lillian's shins. “I should have stayed home with Evan. My back will never recover.”

“Oh please, when did you become such an old man? I'm carrying most of the weight here anyway.”

“You are not!”

“I am too!”

“Okay, I'll just let her go then. You can carry her the rest of the way yourself.”

“Don't you dare, Thomas!”

“Don't you Thomas me, Edmundo! What the hell are we gonna say when we get to the police station?”

“I'll go in first,” Eddie said. “Explain everything. You stay outside with the body until I get you.”

“Me? Why don't you stay outside with the body?”

“Because you asked me what we were going to say when we get to the police station, which means you obviously have no idea what to say, and I can just bat my eyelashes and get the lady behind the desk to listen to my every word.”

“Assuming it's a lady behind the desk is very sexist.” Tommy pulled a hand away to wipe the sweat from his hand onto his jeans, then switched to do the same with the other hand. “It could be a very handsome gay man.”

“Okay, so I bat my eyelashes at the man behind the desk. For the love of God, walk faster, Man!”

“I've been the one walking backwards this whole time, you try it! Also, no offense, but I've seen your game with women, I do not trust your game with men.”

“Don't be an ass,” Eddie glared. “I could've gotten you if I wanted you.”

“Ha! Don't flatter yourself.”

Eddie stopped, mouth agape and clearly offended. “You're seriously trying to tell me that Buck could get you by injuring me and moan about trying to get your attention, but you think I have no game? You're crazy.”

“And you're chronically single.”

“Take that back!”

“Absolutely not!”

“Tommy, I swear to-”

The sound of a siren cut Eddie off. Bright, flashing red and blue lights pulled up beside them. They froze in place.

It took a couple of seconds, but soon enough the driver's door opened. They both had to squint to make out the figure coming toward them.

Athena.

The passenger door opened as well, and there came Buck, his hands tucked inside the hoodie he was wearing.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Athena asked. “We have been chasing your behinds half the night.”

“You're not gonna believe this-” Eddie started as Tommy spoke over him.

“Evan, I swear this isn't what you think-”

“Both of you, quiet!” Athena demanded.

“It looks like you're, uh, trying to carry a body to the police station,” Buck offered.

“Then... Then it's exactly what it looks like,” Tommy breathed out in relief.

Eddie, still holding the body from underneath her arms, moved closer to Buck and Athena, forcing Tommy to move as well. “We saw her get dumped and we didn't know what to do because Tommy lost his phone and I don't have mine. We couldn't just leave her there so we decided to bring her to the station ourselves.”

“You don't have your phone, huh? And it didn't occur to either of you two walk right back into the bar and ask to use their phone?” Athena questioned. “Any phone?”

Eddie lowered his head. “Can't say that it did.”

Athena took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “That body you're holding,” she said, pointing toward it. “That's a sex doll.”

Both Eddie and Tommy's eyes slowly turned to the doll. It took a few seconds for the realization to hit, but once it did, they both dropped it to the ground with a simultaneous, “Ew!”

“I gotta say,” Athena started, crossing her arms over her chest, “I don't usually see men your age getting drunk and pulling these types of dumbass stunts.”

“We're not drunk!” Eddie protested. “Just had a couple beers. Maybe someone drugged us!”

“I don't think so,” she answered, pulling a small memo pad from her back pocket. “We went and spoke with the bartender and he informed us you two started with a couple beers, then moved onto shots, then decided to try some specialty drinks and ended with something called a Fruity Tutti, which you apparently made up yourselves.”

“That... That does sound vaguely familiar,” Tommy said, his hands going to his hips.

Eddie smacked a couple times. “Is that why mouth tastes like an entire packet of lifesavers?”

“How did you guys find us?” Tommy asked.

“Eddie's phone.”

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed. “I told you I don't have my phone.”

“Yeah, you do,” Buck said with a nod. “It's how we tracked you.”

“Guys, I'm telling you, I do not have my phone!”

Tommy moved toward Eddie, peering around him to look in his back pocket. He reached around and grabbed at something before holding it out in front of Eddie.

“Well look at that!” Eddie smiled as he took his phone from Tommy. “My phone!”

“You butt dialed me twice,” Buck explained. “When I overheard you two talking about finding a body and trying to carry it to the police station, I figured I better give Athena a call.”

“And as it turns out,” Athena continued, “the driver from the taxi you two were in also called the police, because, and I quote, “Two men were in the backseat of my cab, loudly whispering about a body they had put in my trunk.” Poor man was too scared to call the police until you had left.”

“You two were also carrying the doll through the streets of Los Angeles on a Saturday night,” Buck informed them. “Dispatch got lots of calls from concerned citizens.”

Eddie sighed. “I didn't think anyone saw us.”

“Oh no, the majority of the county did,” Athena replied. “Come on, boys,” she said, taking a step back and waving them toward her car. “This'll all have to be explained again in the morning. Let's get you home.”

“Can I go to you guys' place?” Eddie asked, pouting. “My home is so far.”

“Your home is ten minutes from ours,” Buck reminded him. “But it's late- or early- and I'm tired, so yes, you can. Athena's gonna take us. Let's get in the SUV.”

“Oh, Evan, can we snuggle?” Tommy asked, moving toward Buck and draping an arm over his shoulder, leaning in close. “I love to snuggle.”

“Gross,” Eddie whined. “I get shoved in a guest room while you two get it on two doors down.”

“Nobody will be getting it on tonight,” Buck assured him.

“Hey, if you want snuggles you can bring Lillian,” Tommy said, gazing down at the doll. “She will give snuggles.”

When Eddie stared down at it for a bit too long, Buck reached over and gave him a smack to the back of the head. “You're not bringing the doll. Come on, let's go.” He grabbed at Eddie's shirt, pulling him away from the doll. “Now!”

*****

When Athena pulled up to Buck and Tommy's place she got out and helped bring the boys into the house. Eddie leaned on her while Tommy leaned on Buck.

They headed for the guest room first, Eddie plopping onto the bed with his shoes still on.

“Absolutely not,” Buck said, helping Tommy to rest against the doorframe so he could go over and pull off Eddie's shoes.

Once they were off, Athena helped Buck maneuver Eddie so they could pull the comforter down from under him.

“God, I'm tired,” Tommy mumbled. He toed off his own shoes and walked over the other side of the bed, falling down face first against the pillow.

“Tommy!” Buck exclaimed. “This isn't our room.”

“Sleepy, Evan,” Tommy murmured into the pillow. “So sleepy.”

“Okay, well, you can go to sleep in our room,” he replied, pulling on Tommy's arm.

Tommy groaned, causing Eddie to open one eye and glare over at Buck. “Just leave him. God, he's so whiny!”

Tommy threw his arm out, shoving over at Eddie. “You're whiny!”

Eddie reached over and shoved back. “You are!”

“Boys, I have a gun!” Athena yelled, causing them to stop immediately. They both drew their arms in and away from each other, but refused to move otherwise.

Athena looked over at Buck. “Should we try to get Tommy up?” she asked.

Both boys breathing had already started to even out, clearly falling into a deep sleep.

“Eh, leave him,” Buck decided, tossing the comforter over them. “They can puke on each other.”

**tags/spoilers: there is no actual death involved in this story. the boys are very drunk.**

#bucktommy #eddietommy #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #911 #evan buckley #athena grant #it's platonic eddietommy #also im sick and don't feel like reading all of this for errors so if you see any... no you don't

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the-artist-grimm · 10 days ago

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Did the couple meme finally! Modified the layout just to add more little notes. Also drew Anthea and Narinder having their typical reactions to seeing each other :3

(As a note for the sliders Anthea's color is RED and Narinder's is BLACK)

Also little facts under the cut!

Anthea

Anthea is short as heck and while they complain about it jokingly they do like how Narinder can just encompass them into hugs/carry them around easily

Borrows all the clothes cause comfy

Loves pet-names, if you can't read the text Anthea calls Narinder Nari, but also Honey, Love, Dear, Kitty, and Baby

Pretty much good with people so Anthea is a bit of an extrovert

Affection via words and actions all at once

Anthea and Narinder both confessed on the night they reconciled, at first Anthea had no plans to since they had tried to keep what the gift they'd been working on that caused the misunderstanding vague, but just decided to tell Narinder it was a courtship sash, and both confessions snowballed from there

Anthea feels just a little bad about killing bugs so Narinder's job

Cars don't exist but if they did Anthea would prefer letting Narinder do it most of the time

Can cook just fine

Big on PDA but only if chaste-so little kisses, holding hands, hugs and leaning on each other

Somewhat overprotective but not extremely so

Very much a bi-disaster. This lamb was a bit too young to think of dating while their village was around, then raised by a group of old knuckle-bones playing men while kinda in hiding till their 20s they have ZERO experience with crushes. When followers their age occasional approach with confessions or get a little too flirty Anthea has no idea how to handle it lol

Doesn't really get jealous

Flustered as heck when alone with Narinder sometimes, they were not expecting him to be as forward in private as he can be. Not that they mind of course-they just gotta wrap their head around how Narinder can be all shy in public, but the second they're alone at home he's all in on the sweet words and touches, very needy cat that one. They also are getting used to being put first so it's this wonderful mix of overstimulation

Narinder

Tall as heck and very much pleased about taking advantage of that-he enjoys how easy it is to just hold Anthea

Anthea's clothes cannot fit him but he doesn't mind, they look cute stealing his things-plus it makes them smell like him which scratches an instincts itch in his brain

Uses pet-names but kinda like old-fashioned pet names. Love, Heart, Angel, Dearest, Sunshine

Introverted as HECK this man cannot do social situations

Affection through actions cause he's not always great with words, so giving little gifts or just being next to Anthea

After Anthea revealed the gift they'd planned had been a courtship sash Narinder went through like 20 stages of grief then a rapid-fire desperate 'I need to say something NOW' as they tried to play it off as a 'I know you likely never saw me like that it was a bit more symbolic but-' thing. He just straight up said 'I love you' and it snowballed from there.

Kinda finds Anthea-a god-killer of 5, being slightly afraid of and feeling bad for bugs cute

Would drive the call all the time cause it's just easier

Really likes cooking once he's taught, it's peaceful and fulfilling.

Can be shy but does like PDA, same as Anthea he prefers to keep things chaste though, but does get a little thrill at being able to publicly reaffirm they're his

Overprotective as heck the lamb gets better at not dying but he still hates when they do.

Zero relationship experience AT ALL this man's never even had a crush before. Demi as heck he never got close enough to a person for it, so with Anthea he actually thought he was sick for a bit at first.

Part of him does still worry about being left behind so he does get jealous-he's working on it though. The only people who do not ever make Narinder jealous is the twins because well seeing his spouse and their children just makes his heart go very very soft. Anthea can spend a whole day with just the twins and Narinder's just in the background purring happily at the domesticity.

When it comes to intimacy Narinder very much enjoys seeing Anthea enjoy themselves first since after bottling up his feelings for so long, now that he has the lamb he wants to ensure they know exactly how much he loves them/remind them how much they're cared for

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#crimson angel au #ask #cult of the lamb #cotl #narilamb #cult of the lamb narinder #anthea #my art #cw suggestive

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ddejavvu · 1 month ago

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heyy!!! saw u were looking for outsiders requests and lemme say, MY OBSESSION WHEN I WAS YOUNGER WAS INSANEEEE!! so u get me??

anyways, what abt a cutie lil fluff drabble where dally is mean to everyone but reader and is super protective over them? and maybe like the other guys make fun of his soft spot for r?

anywhore love ur writing cutie!

send me requests for the outsiders!

i'm so glad you get me <33 everyone in my class made fun of me for how much i liked the book but also i kind of deserved it because i was loud and proud about it. i can barely call it bullying because i totally asked for it

You've never been naive about Dallas's reputation: his name's always the first people spit out when something suspect happens in town. But you'd never seen him get quite so worked up before- not the way he does when Two-Bit gets a little too extravagant with his gestures mid-anecdote and sends beer flying out of the neck of his bottle dangerously close to your cream-colored cardigan.

"Hey, hey- hey!" You barely register Dally's sudden snarl before a hand locks painfully tight around your arm, yanking you sideways and out of the line of fire. You gasp, more from the shock than from the spill, but Dally's hand is gone before it can do any damage and you're left to rock slightly on your feet from the momentum.

"Damn drunk, throwin' your beer around like that." Dally sneers, "Jesus, man, can't you just sit still for once? Gotta wave your damn hands around, makin' stupid jokes- you almost flung it on her-" He swivels to face you, "-on her pretty sweater." Dallas lets the words fall off of his tongue like he knows they're ridiculous coming from him. They're clipped, staccato sounds as he brushes a stray piece of fuzz from the shoulder of your clean cardigan.

"Damn, Dal," Two-Bit whistles, "Sor-ry. Y/N, your sweater okay?"

"It's fine." You pipe up quickly, your voice sweet to both placate your simmering boyfriend and make up for the harshness of his words, "Really, none got on my sweater. Nothing got on me at all."

"Just cool it, Dal." Darry watches with a guarded expression where he's perched at the table, and you're sure if it had been anyone else in the town, Dallas would have turned on his heel and shown him how cool the edge of a blade could be. But instead Dallas merely scoffs, muscling you over a few more steps away from Two-Bit with the sharp point of his shoulder and guiding you to sit on the corner of the couch.

"'Thing was probably stupid money." Dallas looks sideways and down at your sweater with faux-distaste, like he hadn't just been defending its honor with as much violence as he could get away with, "Soakin' it with beer would have killed you, huh?"

You could have washed it. Sure, it would have been unpleasant to sit in for the rest of the night, but the stain wouldn't have been permanent, and any lingering smell could have been covered up with perfume. But Dallas seems flighty, like an animal desperately trying to cover its exposed underbelly, and you lean against his shoulder instead of jabbing at his soft spots.

"Mhm. Thanks, Dallas." You hum, admiring the way your cream-colored cardigan wraps around the cool black leather of his jacket when you take his arm in your grip, "Glad you're here to watch out for me."

#dallas winston x reader #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston fanfiction #dallas winston fanfic #dallas winston fic #dallas winston blurb #dallas winston drabble #dallas winston dialogue #dallas winston oneshot #dallas winston x y/n #dallas winston x you #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders fanfiction

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whirlybirbs · 3 months ago

Text

— BURNER CELL ; 2 ; DABI ; 荼毗

summary: after a week of silence, you finally text dabi. pairing: dabi / f!reader ; quirkless word count: 1.3k tag: humor, maladjusted dabi meets normal adult woman, flirting, canon-based world building, cancer mention, texting as a plot device, slight au, univeristy student!reader a/n: this stole all my concentration. siri play emo boy by ayesha erotica ← previous | the tag

It's the kind of week where, aside from class, human interaction isn't really on life's setlist.

It's also the kind of week where you rediscover making a meal of raw cookie dough straight from the package. Your econ textbook might have a stranglehold on you, but you make enough time to scarf down a few globs between chapters — after all, who needs protein or fiber when you're sure this five-year master's program will kill you first?

Your head hurts.

You slump against the counter, refilling your water bottle.

It's late now — and you can feel the quiet woes beginning to wane as you blink at the clock. By now, your friends are probably on their second or third drinks. You turned the invite down when they asked yesterday. Nuri tugged on your sweater sleeve and pouted the best pout she could manage, but you didn't budge.

I've gotta finish this paper, I'm sorry, Nur'.

You roll your jaw as you shut the faucet off, wandering to your freezer to wrangle some cubes from the tray. You bend it slowly, deep in thought. A few pop out, and you idly drop them into your water bottle with a twang.

You're staring at your phone. It's by your computer on the counter.

...You never did text Dabi.

You told yourself it was for the best — after all, you weren't looking for a catastrophic derailment of your life at the moment. Things are good. You're two semesters away from finishing University, your family's bakery back in Kyoto is doing well, and Dad's chemotherapy seems to be working. Things are good! It's almost fall, you've managed to stick to your monthly budget, and Mizu settled in happily to your new apartment.

No four-day poop strike like the last time you moved.

The large tuxedo cat in question ambles through the kitchen — brushing against your leg and letting out a long, low mrrooow.

Things are great!

You shouldn't text Dabi.

But... even if you did, it's not like it'd be the end of the world, right?

Wait, could he figure out where you lived from your number...?

You could use one of those anonymous texting services. Then, it wouldn't even be your number. Just some fake string of digits that allow you to satiate the bizarre curiosity that's been swirling in your head for the last week.

You're sure the novelty will wear off.

He's probably not even going to respond.

You're telling yourself this is stupid as you begin to set up an account with the service — the app boasts privacy, andunlimited calls and texts... You can't help but feel a little strange as you finalize your account.

It's done.

You import his contact with two taps and stare at the blank screen.

...Now what?

Are you really going to do this? I mean — he's a wanted criminal. He's a member of the League of Villains. If anyone ever found out you were in contact with him, you'd be toast. You'd have All Might kicking your door in and demanding to look through your phone and that mental image is enough to make you cringe. Say goodbye to your degree, goodbye toyour future as Sakura Flour's owner, and goodbye to freedom. You're sure the Safety Commission would place you on some watch list for the rest of your life, and frankly, your tweets are already questionable. You don't need more scrutiny.

...So, there are two options.

Delete his number and move on... or don't get caught.

You shouldn't text Dabi.

...But, you do.

Truth be told, he isn't shocked to see that cute Nuri girl hanging on Giran's arm again. The Broker seems pretty into her — the guy even mentioned something about taking her to a nice dinner during the week as a congrats on passing some big test. Dabi can't blame him. She's cute. Looks good in red. Not his type, but he can appreciate it from time to time.

However, Dabi is a little shocked that you're not a part of the group cheering in Giran's VIP section. There's bottle service being ordered, laughter, dancing, and a gaggle of pretty, five college girls — and none of them are you.

His lips twist into a scowl.

He decides he's leaving; his piss-poor drink is tossed back, and he dumps a bill down for the bartender before tugging his hood up and sucking his teeth.

He never liked this club anyway.

He's crossing the threshold of the back door, stepping into the damp and dark alley, when the phone in his back pocket buzzes. Someone's smoking a Marlboro by the dumpster. The familiar smell makes Dabi's fingers twitch.

He's tryna quit.

He tugs the phone from his pocket, no longer bothered by the splintered glass screen. His battery is at 13%. This fuckin' thing barely holds a charge anymore.

The number on the screen isn't one he knows.

Dabi's passcode is unnecessarily long. His phone clicks open as he narrows his eyes and shambles towards the opening in the alley. He doesn't know this number. He has everyone's cell memorized that he needs. Shigaraki, Toga, Spinner, Jin, Compress, even Giran. He doesn't keep contacts. Doesn't work when he's ditching phones all the time. He's got his noggin. That's good enough.

The text is one word:

hi.

Dabi's squinting at the text when another buzzes through.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:48pm sorry, this is bar girl

→ dabi ; 11:46pm thought u were never gonna txt me ur girlie nuri is here where r u

There's no way.

Your phone buzzes three times from its far place where it sits face down on the counter — you just walked away from it, hellbent on distracting yourself while you waited out the potential reply. You go rigid in your kitchen.

Did he seriously text you back immediately?

You purse your lips, then slink towards the phone. It buzzes again.

→ dabi ; 11:47pm c'mon don't leave me hangin pretty

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the string of replies. He has read receipts turned on like the psychopath he is.

You lean back against the counter, chewing your cuticle as you let out a ragged sigh. Nuri is with him? Or... No, they said they were going to that club you hate.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:4pam oh, are they at the bar?‎

Dabi's fingers move fast.

→ dabi ; 11:49pm nah in downtown club tropical or whatever the fuck it's called

You snort a little.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:49pm i hate that place. their drinks suck.

Dabi has started making his way back to their hideout — back to the shit box apartments they're renting above Kurogiri's bar. He's slow, idly texting as he weaves through the crowds of nightlife in Kamino Ward.

→ dabi ; 11:50pm a girl after my own heart where r u ur dodging my question u on a date or smthng????

He's insistent, you'll give him that. You cross your legs as you lean back against the laminate counter and chew the inside of your lip.

He's typing. It starts, then stops, then starts again.

When you start typing, the bubble disappears.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:50pm nah, got a huge paper to finish uni student, remember? sorry to disappoint

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ur missin out giran got bottle service him and nuri looked cozy

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:51pm not shocked she thinks she can fix him

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ooooo love when that happens poor girl

Typing...

→ dabi ; 11:51pm u think u can fix me? :p

The emoji makes your face break into a smile — it's so... not what you expected.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:52pm nah i'm not stupid

→ dabi ; 11:52pm just busy.... really lame of u tbh coulda been fun

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:52pm wasting cash on mid drinks is the opposite of fun

→ dabi ; 11:52pm i meant seeing me

Oh, what the fuck.

Why does that text make your face feel hot? Why does that text make you feel like you're not texting the League of Villain's #1 Arsonist, but some cute boy from class? He's not a cute boy from class. He's a danger to society.

You're glad you don't have the opportunity to reply. Your phone is buzzing in your hands, the haptic feedback lighting the neurons in your brain on fire.

→ dabi ; 11:53pm gtg phone is gonna die have fun with ur paper u loser hope u get a good grade or whatever i'll txt u later

You shouldn't have texted Dabi.

But you did.

#burner cell #mha dabi #bnha x reader #bnha dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi imagine #mha imagine #bnha imagine #touya x reader #touya x y/n #dabi x y/n #this is ridiculously fun i love these two haters

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gothamite-rambler · 9 days ago

Text

Commissioner Gordon Meets the 3rd Robin

Jim Gordon had seen two Robin's at this point and figured out Batman's civilian identity at this point, so him arriving with a third Robin makes him finally tell Batman he knows he's also Bruce Wayne.

Commissioner Gordon waited on the roof for Batman, like he usually did, but this time he could sense something crazy was about to happen more than usual when dealing with a man who wore a leather bat suit.

Batman (hesitant): Commissioner... Gordon.

Gordon turned around and once he saw the new Robin (Tim Drake), he immediately closed his eyes and shook his head like a disappointed father.

Gordon (jaded): You gotta be kidding me.

Batman nodded in agreement.

Batman (ashamed): I'm aware how odd this looks. I can acknowledge the weirdness at this point. To be fair though... I made it clear I didn't want him to be my new Robin. Tell him, Robin.

Robin!Tim (looking at the bat signal): That's the bat signal... I'm next to it!

Batman groaned, covering his his eyes.

Gordon (tight smile): You sure are kid, you sure are... Batman, he looks the same age as the other kid. Nice to meet you, new Robin.

Robin!Tim: Sup Commissioner Gordon, I met your daughter she's pretty cool.

Gordon (accepting all of this): I raised her well, thanks. I like your suit.

Robin!Tim: Thanks, I added pants. It's form fitting, it works.

Batman (not sure how to word his defense): I'm aware that... I said I would not have another Robin but after needing his assistance I... adopted him. Sort of. Okay, this one came to me. I- I can tell by your expression that, that didn't help the situation.

Gordon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Robin!Tim (hands on his hips): I earned this roll, nothing weird about that.

Gordon: Fair point from the third child sidekick. Batman, at this point I'm not even shocked that you have a new Robin and I like his energy, but um... um... Do you have a specific preference for short, black-haired boys?

Batman glanced at Robin then shrugged because he couldn't think of a good response.

Robin!Tim (confused): Why did you phrase it like that?!

Gordon: I have dealt with this man having three robins at this point and yes it's been three because the first one had a different skin tone and was adorable, the second one was funny, but cussed me out at random and you are very pale, but all of them have had black hair... what is going on?!

Batman (exhausted with life): Honestly, it's a very weird coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless. That is the least of the questions you need to ask me at this point.

Gordon (sighing): Fair enough, what's his story?

Robin!Tim: I stay with Batman so he doesn't kill himself or murder so many criminals .

Batman (exhausted): Hn, thank you, Robin... that was what you should tell a police chief.

Gordon: Nah, that's the best answer he could have given me in this situation. Can I talk to you in private real quick, Batman?

Batman: Sure. I'm kind of accepting of this part of my hero life. Robin, um, stand here and don't eavesdrop on our conversation.

Robin!Tim: I don't like standing still for long periods of time... I'm just going to spin around my bo staff while you talk to Commissioner Gordon.

Batman: That works for me.

Batman walked off with Gordon to a corner of the roof, a good distance from Robin. Robin eagerly tossed his bo staff in the air and caught if effortlessly.

Batman: Honestly people call me odd for wearing a bat suit but that is the thing that makes the most sense to me in my life. Plus I look awesome so you can't even critique the suit. You know?

Gordon groans, covering his face and trying to wonder how he should start his next statement.

Batman: I already know you're going to ask me some type of evasive question... go ahead ask it.

Gordon clasped his hands together and takes a deep breath.

Gordon (deadpan): I've known you for a fairly long time and I'm going to cut to the chase... when were you going to ever tell me that you're Bruce Wayne?

Batman (shocked): What? No ... No I'm not.

Gordon: Bruce, don't play dumb, I figured out you are the same person a while ago, but since you haven't 'trusted' me enough to tell and that is the third Robin, I felt it was necessary to remove this weird barrier you have. I'm not going to arrest you or anything, your secret is safe with me. I want an honest answer though, I promise nothing you say here will leave this roof.

Batman buried his head in his hands and let out a defeated groan. He didn't want to admit it, but at this point in his life he simply couldn't keep it secret.

Gordon: That confirmed it. I became suspicious after Barbara got shot. Jason Todd, your adopted son, turning out to be the Robin definitely verified it. Then CPS visited your place to investiage you about child abuse... that was fasinating because you looked panicked that day.

Batman (embarrassed): I can't believe this happening, right now.

Gordon: Hold on, I'm not done yet. The rest of Gotham bought the story that your adopted son somehow became Robin with a random guy who is Batman and you weren't Batman because "Why would someone like Bruce Wayne be Batman?" Freaking Gotham news, you're lucky that they're so believable.

Batman (serious): You're not going to tell anyone are you? I'm going through a lot at the moment.

Gordon patted Batman on the shoulder reassuringly.

Gordon: As I said, your secret will remain that. We've been through these couple of crazy years together, you were there for Barbara when she got shot, and I wasn't too hot about the fact that it was the Joker, but I got over it. You've never given me a reason to arrest you and I've learned to see as a friend. And much like when my daughter told me she's batgirl... I'm fine with it.

Batman remained silent, surprised that the police chief who he had known for over two decades was keeping his civilian identity secret.

Gordon (sincerely): You're my friend, don't worry about it.

Batman: Oh... you see us as friends too? I'm... You said that before, but huh, not really used to this, am I?

Gordon: I go through the same struggles. Do you want to go over the case with him in front of us or I don't know how to handle this, this is like your third Robin.

Gordon laughs as Batman groans embarrassed.

Batman: Yeah this kid is pretty smart so he can be listening in and circle back, Barbara told you she was Batgirl?!

Gordon: Oh yeah, but I figured it out a two years before she had told me. You guys got to remember, I'm a detective.

Batman: This might sound rude, but I did not think you were that good at your job, the police here are very corrupt.

Gordon (nods in agreement): Fair enough, let's head back to the kid and get this case started.

Gordon walked back over to Robin along with Batman. Batman looks dejected but Gordon pats him on the back to give him some type of sympathy.

First

Second

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eternal-evergreens · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! I stumbled across your post “jjk men as yandere” and I really enjoy both your thoughts and writing style.

I would truly appreciate if you wrote any scenario involving yandere Geto with reader (sorcerer).

Thank you if you even consider writing it<3

A/N Thanks so much!!

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Meet Cute" ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post format: Drabble

Pairing: Yandere!Suguru Geto x GN!Curse user!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Reader is morally bankrupt, mentions of eugenics/genocide, reader is a little too into WWII, minor age gap, super greedy reader

"You're like a modern-day Hitler, huh?"

"...What?" Geto looked at you with wide eyes, putting down his to-go cup to better gape at you.

"Well, you are advocating for mass genocide and literal eugenics," you say, taking an unbothered sip of your own coffee. (Geto recommended the place. Apparently, his kids like the hot chocolate there. You'll have to ask him for the name of the place later.) "So, yeah, you're like Hitler."

Geto appears to be having a crisis of some sort. Just sort of staring down at his lap with an unreadable look on his face. You watch with amusement. This kid must be a newbie, you think—not that you're much older than him, but you at least have seniority on this.

"What, are you getting cold feet? You've already killed people, you know. If you want to make it in this career, you're gonna have to get real comfortable being compared to some pretty terrible things."

"I'm used to being called terrible things, it's just—"

"Oh, what? Like monster?" Geto says nothing, and you sigh, reclining back in your chair. (Damn, this cult has some nice shit. You wonder if you can sneak the couch out without anyone noticing?) "So unoriginal. Anyway keep your chin up. It's actually a good thing. Hitler already exists, so you can steal his ideas."

"Weren't you just complaining about something being unoriginal?" You wave your hand dismissively.

"That was then, this is now. Anyway what do you think? Hitler industrialized murder. You can do the same—if you can get the right ingredients."

"You're talking about power, right?"

"Pretty much. You'll need hands and money. And a lot of both. With that in mind, this cult is actually a perfect setup. But putting that aside," you take another sip of your drink. Empty. Damn it. "You didn't call me here just so I could give you my professional opinion, did you?"

Geto smiles. "I hear you'll do anything for money."

"I don't come cheap, you know."

"That's not a problem," he snaps his fingers, and someone, a "monkey" from the looks of it, walks in, clearly struggling with the weight of whatever's in that giant briefcase. You suppress a smile as it's placed on the table and opened. Hundreds, no, thousands of ¥10,000 notes line the briefcase from top to bottom. You nearly salivate from just looking at it. Quickly, you check for any signs of deceit, of counterfeits, empty space, or otherwise. You can't find anything.

"You'll find this briefcase contains over one billion yen." Geto says, gesturing for his...indentured servant to close the case. How many bills is that? It's gotta be over a million. You're half tempted to take the money and run, but years of experience have taught you not to underestimate guys carrying this much cash. "I trust this is sufficient?"

"That depends on the job," you say, crossing your arms. "If you want me to take out Satoru Gojo, you'll need to multiply it a hundredfold before I even consider it."

"It's nothing that severe," he says, wearing the smile of a polished businessman. You sit up a little straighter. Maybe you were wrong about this guy being an amateur. Whatever he wants you to do, it's bad news. You feel excitement tingling in your veins. Will he ask you to take out a city? A country? Considering the scale of his plans, you wouldn't be surprised if he wanted you to take out a continent... you'd need a bit more to do something like that, though.

"I want you to marry me."

You snort, then laugh. You laugh for a very long time, even holding your stomach as you bend over in your seat. If this was a ploy to make you let your guard down long enough to kill you, it was smart. Still, you wouldn't go down that easily. You're more than confident enough in your ability to defend yourself, even in such a hilarious encounter.

Finally, the laughter dies down, and you wipe a tear from your eye. You look up at Geto's face, only for him to look back at you oddly serious. "No way..." you murmur, "are you for real?"

"I'm afraid I am," he says. Your smile drops. How annoying. What's this guy even want from you, huh?

"So, what, that money's a dowry?"

"More like a bribe."

"Uh-uh. No way. Not happening. I can't take a job like that."

"You're not even going to ask what's in it for me?"

"Not interested," you say, grabbing your bag and standing.

"I think I ought to tell you anyway," he says, throwing a sack onto the table. A stack of yen falls out, and you eye it with a raised eyebrow. "That's my payment for listening," he says. "¥200,000."

You inspect the fallen stack. Once again, it's real. He's either crazy or plotting something, and you have a hunch it's the latter. You sit back down. Whatever he's thinking, it's definitely bad news. Even so, you need more information to properly deal with it.

"I've heard you're the sole caretaker of four siblings." He shouldn't know that, but you decide not to derail the conversation by asking. "As you know, I've got two little girls of my own."

"So, what? You need a babysitter?"

"Precisely."

"Okay, but why marriage? Surely you could just hire me as a nanny and be done with it?"

"The girls don't trust strangers easily. I already told them that I had a Fiance out of town who'd be coming back soon. Just play along with it and you'll be compensated accordingly." "For how long?"

"Just until they turn eighteen."

"You'll have to pay me more." "What I showed you earlier was just a down payment; you'll also get an annual salary of fifteen million."

"Make it twenty."

"How's forty?" he says. You ponder over it for a moment. Judging from how you saw things earlier, it seems like he does genuinely love those kids. He's young and not afraid of spending, which would make you worry about the sustainability of the job, but cults are famous for making tons of cash.

"How old are they?"

"Six." So, twelve years. Counting the initial (over) one billion, the listening fee of two hundred thousand, and the annual salary times twelve, you'll be paid over ¥1,480,200,000. That's more than enough to send your siblings to college, as well as set them up for life.

"Deal," you say, reaching your hand out to shake. You'd ask why he doesn't just hire someone more qualified, but you think that speech on 'monkeys' he gave you answers the question.

"It's getting late," he says, shaking your hand. "How about I take you to dinner?"

"Why?"

"My girls are smart. They'll realize something's up if we don't know anything about each other," he says, standing.

"This isn't coming out of my salary, right?" Geto, or, you suppose you should be calling him Suguru, now, chuckles.

"I'm not nearly that stingy," he says. He holds out his arm to escort you, and you take it. "I'll need your ring size, too."

Of course, he already knows it. That, and so much more. After all, this may be your first time meeting him, but he's already met you plenty of times.

"Sure, but I'm not paying. Also, if you get me an ugly one I'm selling it."

"We'll go together, then." For some reason, the smile on his face seems a little too genuine to be meant for someone he's only just met, but you pay it no mind. Money is money, after all.

"Oh, what about living arrangements?"

"You and your siblings will live here," he says. "You'll have to sleep in the same bed as me, I'm afraid. Just to keep up the illusion."

"Do I get a bonus for that?"

"You're hurting my feelings," he says.

#yandere jjk #yandere x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk x reader #yandere geto suguru #yandere geto #yandere suguru geto #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader

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ghostfanwriter · 1 year ago

Text

✨🍑 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 🍑✨

🍑 Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

✨ Synopsis: You catch Joel looking at a dress while on run for supplies, so you decide to bring it home... And torture him with it at a Jackson party.

🍑 Features: 🔞 Pre established relationship, possessive Joel, teasing, edging, Joel spiting in reader's mouth (🫥), real quick feet action, rough unprotected piv, oral sex (f and m receiving), Joel being insecure and soft at the end.

✨ Word count: Around 7k

🍑 About this: The Jackson couple's back! This time I wanted to touch more on their dynamics and how they work outside the bedroom. But everything builds to some possessive sex with a very possessive Joel.

✨ Author's Note: I've had this drafted for months now, and it finally matured enough to be yours 🩷

Good reading ✨🍑

You were on a run for supplies and winter clothes with Joel and a few others from Jackson. The two of you found this fancy women's clothes store and were grabbing everything that felt nice and warm. Besides, you thought of looking for nice dresses for women to wear on your solstice party, that would celebrate the end of summer and all the resources you got from it.

Joel said it was okay with him as long as you carried the bag full of dresses back home.

You finished looking around and went after Joel, who you found holding a dress in front of himself, just looking at it. His brain forming the perfect image of how your body would look in it.

He knew every line and every curve you had, having touched, bitten, kissed and squeezed you enough times to have them memorized. He thought about how life would be if things didn't go to shit.

Taking you to a party, wearing nice clothes and just drinking and having fun. He was lost in his fantasy when someone called everyone out, it was getting late and it would be dark soon. He yelled back and put the dress back where he found it, turning his head to look for you, calling you by your name.

You hide and as soon as he leaves that corner of the store you run to it and grab the dress, putting it inside your backpack and running back to the other side of the store, emerging from the clothes racks for him to find you.

"Hey, I'm here." You say. He looks at you and smiles.

"C'mon, baby, gotta go." You walk towards him and hold his hands, snuggling to his side as you walk out the store to find the others and go back home.

When he saw you struggling with its weight, Joel insisted he'd carry the bag with the dresses for you.

"Holy fucking shit!" Ellie almost screams when you walk out the bathroom. You look at her and her eyes are wide, mouth open and a ever so light blush on her cheeks. Dina turns to look at you and her face looks exactly like Ellie's, but she's also laughing.

"Oh, someone's definitely gonna fucking die tonight. Either Joel will fall dead when he sees you or he's going to kill every man that looks at you."

You laugh. You only truly saw the dress when you picked it up from your backpack to wash it over at Ellie and Dina's. You didn't want Joel seeing it and ruining the surprise.

The dress is tight and long, but has a slit on one of the legs that goes all the way to your thigh, almost to your hips. It hugs your body perfectly and you can't wait to see his face.

Winter was soon to arrive and for a good while you'll not bare to wear any less than three layers of clothes, so you wanted to enjoy your last chance to look good on something.

Joel was out working all day, and by the end of the afternoon he went home to shower.

He smiled when he found the clothes you left him perfectly laid out on top of your bed, with a perfume you got him a while back.

He was hoping to find you home, but he loved that you took your time to prepare this for him. He got ready and went straight to where the party was gonna happen to help hang lights, fix a few things and be his hot contractor self.

You were gonna meet him with Ellie and Dina, who were also dressed up on some nicer button up shirts and jeans they've found.

On the way from their house to the party, you got compliments all around, men and women turning heads to look at you. You were happy to see all the women in dresses and nice clothes. It was a privilege you had in Jackson, to dress up and have fun, and you were glad everyone was having a good time.

For just one night it was good to forget the world had ended.

You start looking for Joel as soon as you arrive at the party. Scanning the place, you find him drinking and laughing amongst a few men. It's funny how anyone around him looks blurry to you. As soon as you see your man, there's nothing else that could get your attention.

Nothing else matters.

He looks so good, so big, so strong. His wide shoulders, big frame, strong chest and stomach, his legs, spread and inviting, making you want to sit on him. His arms, showing through the flannel he's wearing, his big hand making an already tiny shot glass look even smaller.

One of the men with him locks eyes on you and Joel curiously follows his gaze.

When his eyes land on you his expression thickens immediately. He looks at you up and down, stopping at your face. Your smile disarming him completely. He puts his glass down and gets up, heavily walking towards you with a smile on his face. You open your arms, squeezing him tight when he hugs you, engulfing you in his arms.

"Missed you" You said, because spending the day away felt like an eternity.

"Thought about you all day, peach. Couldn't wait to see you." He said on your neck.

You pull away, he holds you by the waist and you keep your fingers interlaced behind his back, giving him a quick but firm kiss on the lips. "Look as good as you thought?" You ask and his face reddens — he didn't think you saw him with the dress that day. "Can't hide from you, can I?"

"Nuh-uh." You say, shaking your head and giggling.

"You look even better than I thought, amor." He kisses your cheek, a low and effective move he knows to make you melt in his hands.

"You look really good too." You praise him and he looks down at himself, wearing the outfit you sorted for him, a nice button up flannel and a new pair of jeans. A stark contrast from the worn out clothes he wears everyday. "Have to look good when I have you like this by my side, baby. Or the others will see you're too good for me and try and take you away from me."

You shoot him a stern look through your lashes and dig your nails on his back. He gets it and laughs. "Alright, no saying stuff like that about myself. Got it."

"Well, let it be known, Joel Miller, that I wouldn't leave this party with anyone else but you." You say, getting on your tiptoes to give him another quick peck on the lips.

"C'mon, stop being so fucking gay you two." Ellie teases, bringing you a drink and calling you to come hang out with your friends. "Good to see you too, Ellie." Joel says, reluctantly letting you go and watching you walk away.

It had been a long time since you've had this much fun. Hanging out with your friends, sitting on Joel's lap and listening to the stories everyone had to tell.

You laughed, drank and spent time with people you cherished.

But it didn't take long for Joel to get overwhelmed by the attention you were getting.

As soon as you started greeting people and walking around, he noticed the way people looked and touched you for even just a second too long.

This one guy approached you by the drinks table and kept talking to you. Joel doing his best to focus on his food and not break his own teeth with the force he was chewing it down.

He looked at you, young and pretty. Your dress hugging your body so nicely, your hair falling effortlessly over your shoulders, a big smile on your face.

People just couldn't look only once.

And it made him feral.

They all turned to shoot you a second look, almost as if trying to make sure they were actually seeing you. Like you were a mirage.

He couldn't blame them, though. He knew that feeling all too well. To not believe his eyes when looking at you; he felt the same when you first slept together.

He was frozen, sitting on the edge of his bed watching you undress, bringing you close to him and kissing your body, to make sure everything he was seeing was actually there, in front of him.

And he mesmerized you the same way, even today, watching him work from a distance. Your mind wandering thinking about the man, as if you've never been with him. Picturing his strong arms holding you, making you feel safe.

Whenever something broke on your house you always offered to help him fix it. Not just to be useful — even though you knew very little about fixing things, he was slowly teaching you what he knew —, but also to watch him. His muscles flexing, his hair getting messy, the thin layer of sweat that slowly covered his skin, his each time more laborious breathing.

You couldn't help but eat the man with your eyes.

You feel good knowing that amongst all the women in Jackson, you were lucky enough to be by his side.

Your chest almost aching from imagining if he were someone else's. Making you do your best to show him how much you wanted and loved him.

How much you loved when he hugged you tight, when he soothed you when you were scared or sad, how he caressed your hair for you to sleep, how he played his guitar on your porch, singing you nice songs. How he snuggled his nose on your neck before leaving for work, how loved he made you feel.

But he didn't know that. He thought he was the lucky one. That you could just leave him at any minute, going after a stronger and younger man.

He was removed from his thoughts when Tommy touched his shoulder. His tense expression softening a little. "Hey, man! Have you figured out how to make it look like an accident yet?" He laughs, looking at Joel and following his gaze, finding you by the drinks table, the guy still talking to you.

"Don't know if I want it to look like an accident." Joel says back, and his serious tone makes Tommy wonder if he's actually considering killing the man for talking to you.

Knowing his brother...

"Hum. Make him an example; send a message, right? 'Look what happens when you mess with that belongs to me!'" he says, mocking Joel. Joel shoots him a stern look, but laughs when his brother slaps his chest.

"Hey, quit it man, alright? She looks good, boys will flirt with her, get over it. I would bet my ass she would never pay them any mind." Tommy tries to ease him.

Joel sees the man get more comfortable around you, laughing and touching your arm occasionally. You look relaxed, and he fucking hates it. You're terribly oblivious to notice when someone's flirting with you — although you always cut it as soon as you notice.

It's just that this time it's taking you a bit too fucking long to do something about it.

"It's not her I'm worried about. Some of these boys think they're grown men, think they can talk to her like that." He shoves more food inside his mouth, clearly eating to release some steam.

On the other side of the salon, you're getting tired of the conversation you're in, and your face probably shows it. The guy starts accelerating his pace.

"Anyway, I was thinking you would like to leave this party? I mean, it's kind of dumb, you know? Maybe we could go to my place, or yours." Your face freezes. Was this guy flirting with you this whole time?

Fuck.

You look over a Joel, and judging by his face... yes. This guy was flirting with you.

Fuck.

You know you should shake the guy off, tell him you're not interested.

But when you keep looking at Joel... Jealousy looked so good on him, his jaw moving slowly and forcefully, his eyes hooded and dark, eyebrows low, nostrils wide. You wanna see more of it.

"I don't think it's a dumb party. It's fun, were celebrating everything summer gave us, everything we have stocked up." You say.

"Well, yeah, I guess. But not as much fun as we could have somewhere else." He said, coming closer to you. You watch Joel from your peripheral, making sure he's not coming over to murder the poor guy.

"Can't. Don't want to, honestly." You say, feeling bad at how the guy's face sinks. "Besides, I have a man, you know? Joel, Tommy's brother." The guy's face now goes pale, his eyes widen and he follows your gaze, already on Joel and Tommy.

He pulls away from you. Almost like he can see his fate on Joel's expression.

He heard the stories, of what Joel did before Jackson. He didn't want to be in one of them.

"I'm so sorry. I... I didn't know. I've never seen you two together, like together. I thought you were just close because of Ellie. I'm so sorry." He managed to say between stutters before rushing away from you.

You look back at Joel and Tommy and laugh, biting the inside of your lower lip.

You grab your drink and walk towards Joel, a silly and innocent smile on your face.

"What did he say?" Tommy asked laughing, wanting to see Joel's reaction. You look at Joel, seeing his low eyebrows and forceful chewing.

He was livid, but not at you. Maybe your oblivion, but not you. He liked how you teased him, because he knew it'd never go beyond that, and you were only doing it for him. But fuck... He hated to see men flirt with you.

"We were talking about food and supplies, and then out of nowhere he asked if we could go over to his or my place. Said we could have move fun there." You said, making Tommy laugh, Joel shaking his head furiously, still chewing his food.

"Poor guy was inviting himself to his own death." Tommy said laughing, and Joel grunted, shaking his head, still chewing.

His brother was right. If a guy showed up at your doorstep looking for you, Joel would just snap his neck on the spot.

"You need to pay more attention, baby. These boys don't wanna be your friends, I told you that." Joel says on a tender but firm tone. Tommy finishes his drink and gets up.

"He's right, sweetheart. You give these boys too much attention and they think you're theirs. Cut it as soon as they start." He advices, slapping Joel on the back of his shoulder when leaving. "Besides I don't want to help Joel hide any fucking bodies. Behave you two. Also, try and have some fucking fun, Joel! It's a party." He says, dancing away from you two.

Joel moves on his stool, spreads his legs and taps his thigh, calling you to come closer. You get in between his legs, leaning on him with your butt against his thigh. He buries his nose on your hair, caressing your sides. "I know you're right. But he was just talking about the food at first, as soon as he said that I told him I wasn't single and left." Your tone apologetic.

Joel's eyes softened. He knew he could trust you, and he hated to see you believe he thought you would flirt with anyone else. "I believe you, amor. I just hate to see it. You're mine, they should feel lucky they can look at you. Not be so fucking disrespectful." He said, kissing your temple.

Realistically, Jackson was a bit too full of people to keep track of all the couples. So, naturally, not everyone knew you and Joel were together, but it still made him angry how men would throw themselves at you.

He knows you are more than a pretty facade, and he doesn't like seeing you diminished to that. He loves you.

All of you.

The fact that you're eye candy is just a bonus he still isn't sure he deserves.

"Do you wanna dance? Let everyone see me in your arms, know I'm yours." You whisper the last part on his good ear, softly pulling his hair behind it. Your faces are close while you watch him fondly.

"Dance?" He's not much of a dancer, but he sighs at how you're looking at him.

A sweet smile across your face, your lower lip between your teeth, your eyes sweet and hopeful.

He can't say no to you.

You pull him up and he reluctantly follows you, dancing to a few songs you had on old CDs around Jackson. Your bodies are close, your head resting on his chest, his mouth on your temple, kissing you there.

"I know you do it on purpose." He suddenly says, his voice low and intimidating. Almost scary, honestly.

"What do you mean?" You look up at him, your head tilted to the side, your bodies still glued by the torsos.

"Y'know what I mean. Giving these boys attention just to piss me off. To see what I'll do about it later." His dark tone tickling your stomach, contrasting with his soft touch as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

"And what will you do about it?" You mimick his whisper.

"Still planning, bunny. But I'll make sure you don't do this again. Only I get to see this dress after tonight." He says, squeezing your waist harder. You sigh, laughing as you hug him tighter before letting him go and taking his hand in yours.

You walk him away from the crowd, talking to some people on the way, sneaking together into a bathroom and locking the door.

You pull him into a needy kiss, and he presses his already hard cock on you, taking you with hunger, his big arms engulfing you and his mouth not giving you room to breath. His beard scratches your face, the thin pain from it just making you lean further into him.

You pull away when you feel like you're gonna faint, palming him and biting his lower lip, both your breaths deep and heavy. When he mentions to open his belt, though, you lace your fingers on his locks, forcing him down.

He smirks and lets you lower him, pulling your dress up by the hips, revealing your underwear — also a new pair, one you got just for him. He groans at the sight.

He kisses your mount and licks your folds through your panties, making you laugh before pulling at the fabric, lowering it down your legs. You lets your dress go, and he groans when you open your legs and the slit of the dress grants him free access to your pussy. He spreads your folds with his thumbs, licking your clit.

"Fucking made for this, baby." He says with an amused sigh before burying his face on your folds.

He kisses, sucks and bites you with such passion, you're sure you don't last even one minute before cumming, pulling on his hair to keep balance and quietly moaning his name, little screams escaping your lips. You're doing your best to support yourself against the wall and not fall.

It's the type of orgasm that turns your brain off. Your legs struggle to hold you up, your body is shaking, you can't speak. Not even your tongue you can manage to hold inside your mouth, a wide and silly smile spread across your face.

He pulls your underwear fully out of you, and you whimper — the closest you can do to speaking, protesting, right now.

"I'll keep this. You won't need it anymore." He says, shoving your underwear into his back pocket and holding your face with both hands, his grip strong and comforting, your nails digging in his biceps.

"We'll go home now. No more playing around. You'll walk outside, say your goodbyes and I'm taking you home. I'll show you what you get for fucking teasing me, bunny." He says slowly and sternly as you look into his eyes, doing your best to pay attention and listen to him.

You're holding onto him, and he's supporting you up. You'd just fall if he let go. Your eyes are watering and wide, bliss glistening all over them. Your lips are frozen on a silly smile, and he stares at you for a second, a smile stamping his own lips.

"You're already like this and I haven't even fucked you yet, baby. So adorable." He kisses your jaw, maneuvering your face with such ease it makes you want to take him right there and then. To just handle you and do whatever he wants.

You moan into his beard, tugging on his shirt, trying to squeeze his arms. "Please, Joel." You beg in a whine.

"Uh-huh. You were teasing me till a minute ago and now you want me to treat you with my cock? You know how it works, baby." He pulls away, smiling when he sees the pout on your lips. "My way now. I'm dealing with you at home." He says kissing your pout before letting go of you, almost letting you fall on the floor.

He turns his back and leaves the bathroom, knowing damn well you were just gonna follow him and go home.

He knows you may want this even more than he does.

And he loves it.

You try to drop to your knees

"No. Not today." He says, grunting as he pulls you up.

You whine, melting into his arms, staying steady into his embrace.

But he's already mad, and he's already gonna fucking destroy you.

So why not make him give you his worst?

He is sucking on your neck when you let out amidst a moan: "You know, the men back at the party would let me do it."

He pulls away and shoots you a stern look, a cold and serious one. A look that told you clearly to not keep pushing him.

A look he rarely shot you, a complete contrast from the soft, sweet and weak gaze he'd offer you every time you looked at him.

And you know he's losing it. You know he's fighting not to throw you on the bed and fuck you until you apologize.

The problem is: he knows you never do. You've learned that if you make him mad he will fuck you, punishing you for it, so you never apologize.

Because you don't want him to stop. You love it.

You don't feel bad after it, no matter what he does to you.

You want him to do whatever he wants.

To use you like you're there just to please him, just to give him some relief. You want him to call you names, and to fuck your brain out of your body.

And then you want him to hug you tight and call you his good girl, tell you how good you did for him, how lucky he is to have you. How much he loves you.

You love it. You love him.

You love it when he gets jealous, when he possessively wraps his arms around you when a boy talks to you, how he whispers before bed that you belong to him.

Because you don't want it any other way.

"They'd looove me to do it." You say with a smile.

Maybe you drank a bit more than you should have..

"Did you behave like a fucking whore to every man you fucked, baby? Or is it just for me?" He asks, and oh... You like this. The deep and short moan you let out proof of just how much you like this.

"Just for you, Joel. Only you deserve it." You say with a smile, and he frowns, lust consuming more and more of him with every word you say. "Any other man tries to talk or fuck me like you do and I'd slit their throat." You whisper in his good ear, earning a grunt from him.

"That's because you're not a slut, angel. No. You're a good girl, the best one I've ever had in my hands. Doing all I want." He goes back to your neck. "But you sure know how to act like a whore when you want to, baby. A real good one." He says pulling your head back, allowing himself more skin on your neck.

You moan. "I do it because I know you like it."

He groans, grinding his dick on you. "As long as it's just for me."

"You know it is." You whisper. "Let me do it, show you what only you can see." You say even lower, caressing him through his jeans.

"No. My way now, you'll take what I give you." He says, throwing you on the bed, kneeling in front of you and pulling your legs, bringing you close to the edge before dropping your legs back down. "And if you're good to me, I might give you what you want."

He opens the dress's slit, kissing your mount and licking his way through your still connected folds, his tongue finding your clit between your folds and rolling circles around it.

"Oh, God — Joel." You moan, already feeling something forming inside your core.

"You tell me when you're gonna cum. If you don't, I'm not touching you here for the rest of the night." He says, his voice serious and stern.

"And how are you gonna cum if you don't touch me?" You ask, a smile on your lips.

"Plenty of ways I can cum without making you cum, baby. I can fuck this pretty face, can fuck your thighs, your tits, so many things I could do to you. You only cum after I say so. Alright?" He punctuates every way with a kiss to your mount.

You nod.

"Words, bunny, need you to use your words. Do you understand me?" He says, a stern but comforting tone, lifting your legs and resting your thighs over his shoulders, spreading your folds open with his thumbs.

"Yes, sorry, yes. I understand." You mumble, running your fingers through his hair, your entrance burning in anticipation.

"There's my smart girl." He praises before licking a streak from your entrance to your clit, your eyes rolling back. He rolls his tongue around your clit, sucking on it, his eyes focused on your face.

He teases your entrance with the tip of his tongue before pushing it inside, rolling it around inside you and bringing his thumb to your clit, drawing tight and slow circles over it.

You moan and call his name, your back arching and your lower muscles contracting. He groans and squeezes your hips, pulling you lower onto his face.

You pull his hair as he switches, french kissing your clit as he inserts one, then two of his thick fingers inside you. His beard burns your sensitive skin, and the pain makes you roll your hips on him, burying his face even deeper on you.

You lift your hips from the mattress and he holds them high, grabbing your butt and squeezing it. His hungry eyes not leaving yours for even a second.

He thrusts in and out of you with his fingers, his tongue lapping on your clit as his lips stay locked around it, sucking on it progressively harder and harder.

"Joel." You moan, the ease with which he always coaxed orgasms out of you never failing to impress.

He feels your walls tightening around his fingers and picks up his pace, sucking harder on your clit and thrusting his fingers more roughly.

When he starts curling them, right on your sweetest spot, your throat shuts and you gasp, pulling his hair harder and locking your ankles around his back.

"Joel — fuck — I'm gonna cum, please. Please, let me cum." You beg. He doesn't make it easy for you, though, intensifying his movements even more, waiting for your ultimate tell that you'd cum.

When your hips start raising even higher and your walls compress his fingers even more, he lets go of you completely. Leaving your clit throbbing, your entrance leaking and burning with need. Your mouth dry and open, your eyes watering, your legs sore and shaky.

"No, no, no. Please, Joel, don't." You plead. You hated when he edged you, because he let your orgasm start, then ruined it. Not fuelling it for you, letting it die bitterly between your legs.

You reach for your pussy, but he catches your wrists, holding them tight.

"You wanna behave like that? Talk about having other cocks in your mouth? Then you gotta be a big girl and accept the consequences of your actions, baby." He says, getting up and pulling your arms.

He pulls you into a kiss, but you're mad at him, so you don't correspond it. "So pretty all angry like this. Like you don't love it when I do this to you." He whispers close to your mouth, a playful smirk on his face.

You kiss him, deep and needy, moaning at your own taste and holding his arms, almost climbing on him to kiss him deeper. You grab his cock through his jeans, and his hips buck into your hand.

"Let me do it." You moan.

"Thinking about sucking other men made you forget your manners, baby?" He asks, biting on your throat.

"I want it." You whine.

"And how do we say?" He asks, going back to kissing your throat, his fingers intertwined tightly with the hair in the back of your head.

You let out a frustrated moan, one he knows to be an acceptance of defeat. "Please, Joel. Let me do it. I want you in my mouth, please. I promise I'll be so good."

He laughs on your neck.

You're always so good.

"Get down." He says sternly, his lips leaving your neck while he stares at you with furrowed brows.

He just can't say no to you.

To think that you ask — constantly beg — to suck his cock, was too good of a vision to waste. He had women be grossed out by it enough times to not be grateful when he has you begging so nicely for it.

You don't get down, just holding his stare as you admire his strong features. How his brows and nose frame his whole face, how his beard is starting to grey around the edges, how pretty his mouth and his eyes are.

How much you love him, how much you love when he treats you like this. Because you know he loves and respects you, and he'd never do anything to hurt you or make you feel bad.

The best word you can use to describe what you feel for him is pure adoration.

You're pulled out of your mind when be grabs your jaw.

"You wanted this, didn't you? Talked to that stupid boy to get me to do this, right? Then you got what you fucking wanted, no reason to keep being a fucking brat." He says, making you smile. His head tilts to the side, his nostrils widen and he twitches inside his jeans.

He pushes you down to your knees, opening his belt on a split, the sound of his ziper and belt making your stomach float inside your belly.

You have a silly smile on your face, and you retribute his teasing by pulling just his jeans down and licking his tip through his underwear, right where it's wet with his precum. He grunts and interlaces his fingers with your hair.

"Teased me enough, haven't you, amor?" He says with a grunt, as you suck on his clothed tip, stroking him over his underwear a few times while indulging in how big, hard and thick he feels on your hand. How you can feel him pulse sometimes, and how much you love to taste him.

The latter makes you pull his underwear down, staring at his cock for a beat and, without touching him with your hands, lick around his urethra, gathering his precum in your tongue. His cock twitches and jumps away from you, making you laugh.

"Jesus Christ, baby." He groans, furrowing his brows and pulling your hair. His hips instinctively buck forwards.

You reach for his tip again, still not touching him. You roll your tongue around it and suck him inside your mouth, applying pressure and licking your lips when you let him go, twitching again, away from you.

Joel grunts, your teasing not helping your case.

Not that you're trying to make him less mad at you anyway.

"Do it right or I'm taking it away from you." He says sternly, and you frown, instantly grabbing him, stroking him slowly as you suck and roll your tongue around his tip. "Shit. Good girl, like that." He groans, throwing his head back. His fingers caressing your head without forcing you to move.

He knows you don't need guidance with this. He loves how you blow him.

You take more of him inside your mouth, but his edging made your mouth dry, and his precum isn't enough to make him slide into your mouth easily.

"Joel?" You call, you voice small. He looks back down at you, humming in response.

"Can you help me? My mouth's a bit dry." You ask, keeping your voice sweet and low.

"Tell me what you need, peach. So pretty using your words for me like this." He says, stroking your hair gently.

"Can you... Spit on it for me?" You ask. You could just wet your mouth until he slides inside it. But he's right there above you...

"On your mouth or my cock?" He asks and you shrug. "Your choice, baby." He says softly, still stroking your hair.

"Can it be both?" You ask with a smile. He smiles and pulls you up by your armpits, grunting.

"Open wide for me." He pants, his voice raspy.

You do so, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

"Now don't swallow, you're gonna need it." He says before spiting inside your mouth once, making you moan.

You swallow instantly, your core leaking when you do.

"Why such a brat today, baby?" He asks, smiling and furrowing his eyebrows. His hands cup your cheeks tenderly.

"I tried not to, I swear." You smile, biting the thumb he rubs over your lips. He pulls your lips open.

The crease between his eyebrows gets deeper when he does it again, once again earning a moan from you. "Want more?" He asks, and you nod, your brows furrowed. He does it with a smile, holding both your cheeks, your ears between his index and middle fingers while he admires the pool he made on your tongue.

He kisses your cheek, right under your eye, besides your nose. "Knees." And you fall back down, your mouth closed, full of him, doing your best to not swallow it.

He gathers some more saliva in his mouth while you take him in your mouth. You go as deep as you can with the wetness inside your mouth, stoping and looking at him.

Aiming for his cock, he spits on it, close to his base.

You take him in deeper, swishing his saliva around his cock. "There you go, amor. This month feels so fucking good." He praises as you start picking up your pace, your mouth around his tip, hand working his length, twisting your wrist, feeling his skin move under your hand. Your other hand goes to his balls, caressing and squeezing them lightly, making him grunt.

"Fuck — Taking me so well you almost made me forget you were thinking about other cocks, baby. So bad." He says and you moan. You could never think about anyone else, you just said it to piss him off.

Gladly he knows that, but gladly it doesn't mean he won't play along with it.

He holds your head with both hands, pulling your hair back, carefully gathering it in his fists, and you hold onto his thighs.

"Ready?" He asks as he pulls out of your mouth.

The tenderness in his touch and voice a stark contrast of what he's about to do to you.

"For you always." You moan back, and he caresses your scalp.

"My pretty girl." He praises. "All mine." While he places his tip inside your mouth. "Suck it."

You wrap your lips around his tip and suck on it, rolling your tongue around him, never breaking eye contact.

He pushes himself in, going all the way to the back of your throat before pulling away. Then doing it again.

A particular thrust goes even deeper, and he bottoms out inside your throat. You gag, and he holds your head in place, grunting with the squeeze.

He picks up his pace, eventually fucking your mouth. His hands pressing on the sides of your head, his thrusts deep and mean.

"Oh yeah, so so tight for me, baby. So good, could fucking cum inside this mouth." He says, thrusting deeper before pulling away from you, a thick streak of saliva still connecting his tip to your mouth. You stare up at him, admiring his imposing figure. How he towers over you, how big and strong he is.

He pulls you up and away from your adoration, fixing your hair and wiping your lips and chin with the sleeve of his flannel.

"I swear to God if I ever see you step outside wearing this dress again, baby..." He says, looking down at your body, squeezing your waist.

"If you say you're gonna do all this again I'm going out tomorrow with it." You say with a smile, and he laughs, looking at you through his lashes, that dark gaze back on his face.

He throws you on the bed, removing his shirt. You reach for him with your feet, and he kicks his pants away. You stroke him once with your feet and he holds them, keeping them tight together, thrusting a few times with his eyes closed before snapping them open and looking down at you.

"See? Another way for me to cum without making you cum. But not today, baby." He laughs, spreading your legs and opening your dress right on the slit. "So fucking made for me." He says, both at the slit and at you.

He wraps his forearm underneath you and pushes you further onto the bed, kneeling between your legs.

"Wanna apologize before I start?" He asks, running his tip through your folds, gathering your arousal.

You laugh, supporting yourself on your elbows to kiss him, and he pushes in, all the way, slowly, letting you wet every inch of him before inserting the next.

You moan into his mouth, wrapping one, then both your arms around his neck, pulling him down with you. His weight crushes you, and you gasp when he pulls almost all the way out before roughly going back in.

His first thrust sets a relentless pace, his hips slamming against yours. He wraps his left arm underneath you again, pulling you even further onto the bed, never letting himself slip out of you.

"God — Joel." You moan, screaming his name on his shoulder, his thrusts forcing air out of your lungs, making you gasp while you do your best to breath.

"So fucking tight, baby." He breaths on your hair. "Fucking made for me, just me. All — grunts— fucking — grunts —mine." He says, punctuating every last word with a thrust.

"Yours Joel. Keep me so full I can't think of anyone else." You cry on his neck, your orgasm coming closer and closer to you.

"Fuck — Such a good girl for me, only one I fucking — grunts —need." He groans, his pace somehow getting rougher. He wraps his other arm around you, keeping you locked under himself, his hips moving fast and hard.

The brush of his skin and his pubic hair on your clit is enough to make you whimper and clench around him.

"Please, Joel. I have to cum." You beg, your orgasm only not hitting you because you know better than to go against his word.

"Sure know how to take it like a whore, baby. I'm fucking you like this and you're asking to cum on my cock, huh? So fucking good." He teases, squeezing you in his embrace.

"Yes, Joel. Please, I want to." You whine, your nails digging deep into his back.

"Cum for me, baby. C'mon, you're being such a good girl for me. You deserve it." He coos, kissing your neck, somehow fucking you even rougher, even deeper, even faster, pulling a strong and deep orgasm out of you.

"Joel!" You moan almost pornographically, screaming his name passionately, your throat hurting with how loud you're being all of a sudden.

You'll certainly get some looks tomorrow. And it's not gonna be because of the dress.

The way you scream his name makes him cover your mouth — the whole bottom of your face — with his large hand.

"Shh, trying to tell the whole town who you belong to, peach? I thought that was why you wanted to dance at the party." He laughs, watching as your face contorts and grunting at how much you squeeze him. "Keep a bit more quiet for me, baby, c'mon."

He lets go of your mouth and fucks you harder, now having to forge room for himself inside you. You bite right between his neck and his shoulder, trying to not scream again. Your hips rolling as your orgasm comes to an end.

As soon as you stop quivering under him he starts rolling circles around your clit, fast and tight. You gasp, your hips moving desperately, trying to get away from the overwhelming stimulation.

"Oh, Joel. Too much, fuck." You plead, but it only makes him fasten his movements, his hips pouding you relentlessly.

"You wanna behave like a whore you gotta take it like one, bunny. Liked teasing me, didn't you? Huh? Now you're gonna squeeze me real nice again, gonna make me cum for you."

"Joel." You moan, half screaming, digging your nails in his back, trying to focus on him, his weight, his warmth, his rough fingers on your clit.

"C'mon, baby. Gonna squeeze the cum out of my cock, aren't you? You feel so good, my peach." He pants on your hair, kissing and biting on your neck.

"You're gonna cum inside me?" You ask, your voice coming out more hopeful than you expected. Your ankles instinctively tangling behind his lower back.

He laughs softly on your neck, kissing you there and squeezing your hips. "You know I can't, baby. I fucking — grunts — can't." He pants, his voice frustrated and low. "Fucking wish I could." He whispers, barely leaving your pussy before thrusting hard back in.

His confession makes you moan, clenching around him, your orgasm so close you can almost feel it.

His hips lose rythme, and he takes your hand in his, putting it between you two. He lifts himself, hands besides each side of your head. He's loud. Panting, grunting and groaning while he pounds into you.

That's why you tease him. To see this animalistic and senseless, strong and big man pound you like his life depends on it. His cock rearranging your organs to please himself.

"Cum for me, baby. So fucking close, just need to feel you again." He pants, his forehead touching yours, his pace punishing and lovingly at the same time. Punishing you for teasing him and lovingly for you to remember he loves you more than anyone else ever could.

"Joel." You scream again, a shameless and vulnerable plead for him. For him to see how good he makes you feel, how much you love being his.

"There you go, baby. C'mon, feels so good squeezing me so nice, fucking — grunts — milking my cock, gonna cum so much for you, my baby. Can't be fucking inside you. No." He says, his face hovering above yours.

"I want it, Joel. Please. My mouth, I want you." You plead, still high from your orgasm.

"Take the dress off, baby, c'mon." He whispers and you eagerly do so, squeezing him inside you when you contort your upper body to remove it. He grunts from it, slowing his movements down for a second, one of his hands holding your waist.

"Please, Joel." You beg, scratching his shoulder blades and looking at him.

"So pretty begging for me like this." He says. "Too bad you don't deserve what you want, baby." He pulls out of you, pumping himself hard and fast above your belly, and you open your mouth, a beg for him to give you some of it.

"Don't be so fucking greedy, amor. You've had plenty of it". He says right before cumming all over your stomach and breasts with loud grunts and groans.

He loves seeing you covered in him, marking you as his.

He is, thankfully, kind enough to aim some of it at your face, and you end up drinking a few streaks.

He finishes and falls on the bed besides you, staring at the roof and trying to catch his breath as you do the same.

After a minute he gets up with a grunt and goes to the bathroom, coming back with a wet towel. He dresses his underwear and sits by the end of the bed, pulling you legs by your ankles. He spreads them and runs the cloth over your swollen folds, carefully cleaning them.

He presses a kiss on each of them, kissing your clit last, laughing when you jump from the overstimulation. He licks around it, looking into your eyes and smiling.

"You don't deserve it." He laughs, lightly slapping your pussy and climbing on top of you, pressing the mattress besides your head and hovering above you.

You lift yourself to kiss his lips, wrapping your arms around his back and digging your nails deep into his skin. You let go of your own weight and he holds you both up, deepening the kiss, panting into your mouth, his beard burning your skin deliciously.

"You know I love you, don't you?" He asks, his voice low.

"You just showed me." You say with a soft laugh.

"No, amor. I mean it. You know it, don't you?" He sounds like he's about to cry.

You pull him down on the mattress with you, looking into his eyes. He wraps his arms tight underneath your body. "Of course I do, Joel. What do you mean?"

"Just keep seeing you with those boys. They're all so young. You could just have any of them." He says, his soft eyes glistening.

"But I don't want any of them. I want you, love you, only think about you." You coo, kissing his lips.

He turns you both around, and you lie on top of him, your head on the crook of his neck, inhaling his manly and woody smell.

"I love you so much." You whisper. It almost hurts how much you do. "I'm so lucky to have you, Joel." You squeeze him in your embrace, your own eyes threatening to water.

"Love you more. Luckiest, happiest man in this town with you by my side, baby." He responds, and you snuggle your face deeper on him, kissing his neck, indulging on his presence.

On how you'd never imagine leaving your man.

Hope you enjoyed it, need a jealous, possessive and soft Joel in my life to call me names and tell me how much he loves me 😫

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