#if they have time to hear you then they might fight back and if you kill someone in a fight it wouldnt feel /as/ sleazy as sneakin up behin
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Two professors and a student (Part 5)
Word count: 3200
Warnings: 3k works of pure smut, fingering, oral, strap on, blow job, squirting, overstimulation, vibrators, probably missing something lol
You can barely breathe by the time you reach their bedroom. Even though you just had an orgasm, you are still desperate for more.Â
Seems like they are, too.Â
The door is thrown open by Agatha, who clearly doesn't care what it hits and she points you to the chair in the corner of their spacious room.Â
Wordlessly, you obey and go sit. You vaguely feel like a child who just got put in time-out. Rio enters shortly after and Agatha grabs her waist and pulls her into a kiss, just as hot as the one from downstairs. You whimper and rest your hands on your thighs, resisting the urge to touch yourself. You can be good.Â
Agatha pushes Rio down onto the bed and they work together to get her pants off.Â
âNow Iâm going to show you what Rio likes,â Agatha says, looking over at you for the first time since Rio came into the room. âAnd if you can be our good little student and pay attention and make her cum, weâll reward you. Sounds good?âÂ
You gulp and shift your weight in the chair, nodding eagerly. Your fingers fidget against your legs. Agatha doesnât miss the movement, because of course she doesnât, and grins.
âAnd one more thing. No touching yourself,â she adds and your jaw drops. âDonât pout, baby, itâs not a good look on you.âÂ
She angles Rio on the bed so you can see her fully and pushes her legs open. Even from where you are sitting, you can tell that she has soaked through her underwear.Â
âFuck,â you whisper under your breath, so desperate to feel her, to taste her.Â
Agatha has to peel them off her and then she tosses them over her shoulder without even looking. They land squarely in your lap and you have to take a deep breath to collect yourself before you can reach down and touch them.Â
Thereâs enough wetness that youâre able to collect some on your fingertips and without thinking, you raise your hand to your mouth to taste. You instantly moan and want nothing more than to taste from the source.Â
But Agatha has got that covered for now. You watch transfixed as she bends down and licks up Rioâs slit, swirling her tongue when she reaches her clit. Rio gasps and youâre afraid you might be dripping onto the chair.Â
âAgatha,â she moans and entangles her fingers into the older womanâs dark hair.Â
Agatha slides a finger into Rio while flicking her tongue against her clit and you clench around nothing. You are positively aching at this point and want nothing more than to touch yourself.Â
But you want to be their good girl, so you dig your fingertips into the upholstery so hard you think you might be tearing into it a little and fight the urge to grind against the seat.Â
Rioâs legs are starting to clamp around Agathaâs head so Agatha practically wrenches them apart so you can see even more. She turns back to look at you for a second, face glistening with Rioâs wetness.Â
âShe likes when youâre rough with it,â Agatha says, smirking as your jaw slackens. âScrape your teeth against her clit and fuck her hard with two fingers.âÂ
She does just that when she focuses back on Rio and Rioâs back arches off the bed, a loud sound escaping from her mouth. Your head lolls back against the chair but your eyes never stray from the two of them. You think a single touch to your clit could make you cum right now.Â
âAgatha,â Rio chants, hips bucking against her face, trying to draw her fingers in deeper if possible. You can tell Agatha is hitting her spot just right based on Rioâs gasp with every thrust. Youâre squirming now, the ache inside you becoming painful now.âFuck, Iâm going to cum.âÂ
Itâs those words that remind you of listening to them have sex over the phone. The memory of hearing her say it then, and now watching her say it, overpowers your brain and you lightly skim your fingertip against your clit without thinking. The featherlight touch is enough to make you moan involuntarily because of how sensitive youâve become and the instant you do, you know youâve fucked up.Â
Itâs like time slows down. Agatha stops what sheâs doing to Rio and they both turn their eyes toward you, nasty smirks on their faces. You yank your hand away from your cunt, heartbeat racing.Â
âWhat did I tell you, baby girl?â Agatha purrs.Â
âIâm sorry,â you say lamely. âI couldnât help it.âÂ
âCome here,â she orders. You obviously obey. Agatha roughly grips the back of your neck and bends you over the bed so your face is only a few inches away from Rioâs pussy. She takes off your dress and your underwear, throwing them somewhere across the room. âYouâre going to show us if you were even paying attention or if you were just thinking about yourself.âÂ
Youâre almost vibrating with need and you nod eagerly. Agatha leans over your body and you get goosebumps by how it feels.Â
âIâm going to spank you ten times for breaking the one rule I gave you and you better make her cum before then,â she whispers dangerously into your ear. âUnderstand?âÂ
âYeah,â you breathe, already dripping with anticipation. She pulls away and you miss her body heat against yours. She rubs your ass in preparation and you grab Rioâs thighs and haul her to you. You donât spare any time before licking up her slit hard. Her hand flies down to grip your hair just as the first slap comes.Â
You groan, the impact pushing you further into Rioâs pussy and you hear her whimper at the resounding vibration from your sound. Youâve never felt more turned on in your life.Â
âOne,â you hear Agatha say behind you and you reach your hand up so you can fuck a finger into Rio. Her walls instantly bear down around you and she is so wet and hot. You could die right here, right now.Â
You begin to thrust and curl your finger, tongue swirling around her clit, when the second spank hits. This time, your reaction is more controlled and you keep focusing on giving the other woman pleasure. Rio clenches around your finger and her hips are grinding on your face, trying to get more from you.Â
Three and four follow soon after.Â
âBetter hurry up, sweetheart,â Agatha taunts, cupping your pussy to collect your wetness and you almost stop because it feels so good. This time, when she hits you, the sound is a wet smack. You can feel the stickiness when she removes her hand. âFive.âÂ
You pick up the pace with Rio. Your jaw and wrist are starting to ache and your ass is burning, but you wouldnât dream of stopping.Â
She spanks you again and this time, itâs rougher than the ones before. You gasp into Rioâs pussy and her fingers tighten in your hair. You can tell sheâs close.Â
âSix.âÂ
You slide a second finger into Rio, curl them hard, and scrape your teeth roughly against her clit, like Agatha said she likes.Â
Rio cums around her fingers with a loud moan, riding them and your tongue through her orgasm. Agatha is chuckling behind you, soothing your ass with her hands.Â
âGood girl,â she says, impressed. Rio has gone limp and you can hear her breathing hard. Agatha pulls you back up by your hair and turns you around to kiss you filthily. She sucks on your tongue, moaning at the taste of Rio. Her hand comes up to wipe your cheeks, but instead of cleaning you, she just smears Rioâs juices even more all over your face. âOpen.âÂ
You made an O with your mouth and she shoves two fingers inside, fucking your mouth. She presses hard on your tongue.Â
âSuch a slut for us,â Rio says and you nod your head around Agathaâs fingers in agreement.Â
âHereâs the deal,â Agatha says, pulling her fingers out of your mouth with a pop. âI told you that you had ten spanks and you made her cum in six. So as a reward, those extra four will be orgasms.âÂ
Your eyes widen. Youâve never cum that many times before consecutively. And you already came once downstairs. You know better than to ask if that counts toward the four, though.Â
âRio, do you want a turn with her?â Agatha asks the woman now perched up on her elbows on the bed.Â
âYeah,â Rio says hoarsely. She climbs over to you and pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss. When she pulls away, Agatha is laying against the headboard, legs open, eyes beckoning.Â
You know what she wants you to do. Just like her dream.Â
You get on the bed and crawl on your hands and knees until youâre in front of her and then turn around so your back is against her front. Rio situates herself and pries open your thighs. She laughs at how wet youâve become and bends down to lightly blow on your pussy lips. The air makes your hips jump. You know it wonât take long for you to cum at all.Â
And then her tongue is on you and you keen embarrassingly loud. Agathaâs lips find the expanse of your neck and suck, fingers coming up to roll your nipples. Your head falls back and hits the headboard, hands clasping onto Agathaâs thighs and nails digging into the skin.Â
âFuck,â you swear, the stimulation overloading you. âRio.â Â
It doesnât take much more for you to cum with both of them touching you, especially considering how wet you had been. Rio doesnât even give you time to come down before she thrusts two fingers in you and your back arches off Agathaâs chest.Â
âFuck, oh my god,â you babble as she mercilessly fucks you, Agatha laughing and biting the juncture of your shoulder and neck.Â
You cum again in less than two minutes.Â
This time, she slowly pulls out of you and you sag against Agatha, who presses a kiss to the side of your forehead.Â
âThatâs two,â Rio says, gleefully grinning up at you. âHalfway, doll.â You huff out a breath and close your eyes for a second. Your clit is throbbing with sensitivity. Agatha reaches down to press against it and you jerk in her arms.Â
âCanât,â you whine pathetically. âToo much.âÂ
âOh, baby,â Agatha coos in your ear. âYou shouldâve thought about that before breaking the rules.âÂ
Rio rolls over on the bed to open the nightstand. She pulls out a vibrator and a dildo attached to a harness. Despite how spent you are, you clench around nothing at the sight.Â
âWhich one do you want first, doll?â She asks, motioning between the two toys.Â
âThe strap, please,â you whimper, shakily pointing. Rioâs face lights up in obvious delight and you feel Agatha shift behind you, gently pushing you forward so she can move. You watch, rapt with attention, as she undresses and steps into the harness. Rio helps her and kisses her hotly.Â
âGet it ready for me?â Agatha whispers and Rio sinks down to her knees automatically. Your jaw falls open as Rio engulfs the strap-on in her mouth, head moving up and down the length. Itâs one of the hottest things youâve ever seen in your life. Agatha moans like she can feel it and guides Rio with a hand on the back of her head. When she deems it sufficiently wet, she pulls Rio off and climbs back on the bed.Â
She resumes her position against the headboard and pats her thighs. You wearily sit on her lap and she holds your hips and helps you grind against the strap-on.Â
âYouâre going to be a good girl and ride me, okay sweetheart?âÂ
You nod and position the tip at your opening. Her hands rest on your hips as you slowly drop down her length, pausing when you finally bottom out. Your breath comes out in stutters because of how full you are. Rio straddles Agathaâs legs behind you and reaches around to rub at your still-tender clit. It makes you more comfortable and you begin to slowly move up and down, getting comfortable with the fullness.Â
The two women do barely little to help, Agatha choosing to recline with her hands behind her head and watch you appreciatively, and Rio thumbing at your clit with one hand and toying with your nipple with the other.Â
It doesnât take long for you to get tired though. The toy is perfectly hitting every spot in your pussy but your bounces become shorter and shallower as you try but fail to pick up the pace.Â
âCanât, Aggie, please,â you beg, slowing down and opting to simply roll your hips against her.Â
âPoor baby, you need us to do everything for you, donât you?â She asks, hands coming back to stroke your thighs. Even that small touch adds stimulation. It feels like your whole body is a tight livewire about to explode.Â
âPlease,â you whine and she and Rio lift you off the strap-on. It falls out of you with a wet plop and you can see it glisten. You feel empty.Â
Agatha moves her hands to your hips and helps you turn over so youâre on your hands and knees. She rubs your sore ass and then slides the strap-on up and down your slit, getting it even wetter.Â
âBeg,â Rio says, coming to sit in front of you so your eyes are on her. Agatha dips the tip inside you and then pulls it out almost immediately. You feel tears prick your eyes.Â
âPlease, Agatha, please fuck me,â you whimper. Rio grabs hold of your hair and pulls it tightly.Â
âI know you can do better than that.â She looks behind you and you imagine Agatha smirking at her.Â
âNeed to be fucked so bad, please, please, I want your cock in me, need you to fuck me so well,â you ramble, more words spewing out of your mouth but youâre so far blissed out you donât even know what youâre saying. Rio nods and Agatha pushes in.Â
You fall forward onto your elbows and let out a loud moan as she stretches you out again. Your head falls down and your walls clamp down on the toy. âFuck,â you cry. She sets a relentless pace from the beginning, her hips making a sound every time they bump against your ass. Rio grabs your throat and squeezes, taking all the breath out of your lungs. She drags you into a kiss like that, never removing her hand. Agathaâs finger swipes at your clit and combined with her fast strokes and Rioâs tongue in your mouth, you cum all over her cock in no time. Youâre practically sobbing with pleasure at this point.Â
And you still have one more.Â
Agatha stays inside you until you finally come down and then she slowly pulls out. Her soothing touches to your lower back make your stomach warm despite your worn-out state. Rio gives you one last kiss and pulls away.Â
âYou okay, baby girl?â She asks gently.Â
âYeah, just a lot,â you answer weakly.Â
âDo you think you can give us one more?âÂ
You know that you can say no and theyâll stop. But this has been the best sex of your life and you would happily spend the rest of your days in bed with them. You think this is what youâve always wanted.Â
âI can do it,â you affirm, voice sounding more confident than youâd expected.Â
âYou know,â Rio starts. âAgatha hasnât cum yet. And doll, since you did such a nice job eating me out earlier, I think itâs only fair that Agatha sits on your face while I make you cum one last time.â You moan at the thought and nod eagerly.Â
Agatha smirks and turns you over so youâre laying down, back on the bed. You know you must look like a fucking mess. She moves over your body and before she puts her pussy into your waiting mouth, she pushes strands of sweaty hair out of your face and says, âJust be a good girl for me and let me use you, okay?âÂ
She doesnât have to ask twice. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue and with a genuine smile, she drops down onto your waiting mouth. She is so fucking wet that the entire bottom half of your face is practically coated with her already.Â
You hear the buzzing from the vibrator and you tense in anticipation, but nothing could prepare you for when Rio holds it against you.Â
You buck up so much Agatha is almost thrown forward and you donât think youâve ever moaned so loudly. Rio began with one of the higher settings and itâs so intense. Tears fall from your eyes as Agatha grinds even harder on your face and Rio is unwavering in pressing the vibrator to your clit. Noises and gasps fall out of your mouth without you even realizing and you think it must be making the woman on top of you feel amazing because her rhythm starts to stutter and sheâs getting louder.Â
You think you might be cursing but itâs hard to tell with the toe-curling vibrations and Agathaâs pussy in your mouth. You donât think you are capable of forming a single coherent thought right now. Your legs are thrashing, your hips are jumping, and you think you might pass out from this.Â
âPlease,â you hear, rather than feel, yourself say. Your orgasm is approaching, but this time, something feels different. Thereâs a tension building up in your stomach and it vaguely feels like you have to pee.Â
Rio leans over to suck your nipple into her mouth and presses the vibrator even harder against you and you cum explosively with a cry, which triggers Agathaâs orgasm. Rio keeps the toy against you and you have to physically close your legs and pull away because the stimulation hurts.Â
Agatha climbs off your face and you look down at Rio, who is literally covered in wetness, wearing a smug grin.Â
âWhatâ?â You ask, not really sure of the words.Â
âHave you ever squirted before, doll?â She asks and your mouth falls slightly open. You shake your head. You didnât even know you could do that. âI bet youâve also never cum that many times either?â Another head shake.Â
âYou did so good for us, baby,â Agatha says, hand cupping your face and leaning down to chastely kiss your lips. âHow are you feeling?âÂ
âTired,â you say. âWanna sleep now.âÂ
âLetâs get you cleaned up and into some clothes and then we can go to bed, okay?â Agatha being soft warms your heart and you lean into her touch.Â
âOkay,â you agree happily. Rio brings over a washcloth and gingerly cleans your pussy off, smirking the tiniest bit at your wince. Agatha helps you into an oversized purple T-shirt and a soft pair of underwear.Â
âDo you need anything else?â Agatha asks softly. You shake your head in a state of complete blissfulness. She presses a kiss to your forehead and Rio pulls the sheets over the three of you.Â
With you in the middle and both of them draping a comforting arm over you, you fall asleep faster than you ever have.Â
#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha x you#agatha harkness smut#agatha harkness x you#kathryn hahn x reader#agatha smut#agatha all along#agatha x rio#agathario x reader#agathario#rio vidal x reader#rio vidal x agatha harkness
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Can you do that for me?
Pairings: ruined!Jayce x f!reader
NSFW/MDNI
Masterlist
Summary: Formerly partners, you've started a new business in Zaun after Jayce's disappearance. One day, after hearing whispers of Victor's apparent evolution, Jayce shows up unannounced.
Wordcount: 4.2 k
Warnings: Some canon stuff (beware spoilers), pinv sex, angst, fluff, fingering, slight handjob, choking, biting, creampie, doggy, missionary, cowgirl (a lot of positions), sub/dom/switch!Jayce, power struggle, fight for dominance, praise (f and m recieving), spanking, overstimulation, "I love you", difficult feelings, hot depraved Jayce.
AN: Not proofread, I intend to make a few changes to it later but wanted to get it out. Might be spelling mistakes. I tried to fit a bit of everything into this. ENJOY GIRLIESđ
Having pulled the curtains aside, a vigilant man inspects the dark streets below. "He's almost here, ma'am," the man says, eyes following the subject. There's a slight stiffnes to his stance, as if he's readying himself for a fight. "What do you want us to do?"
"Let him in," she smiles at him faintly, attempting to reassure the large man before returning to her paperwork. "Dont give him trouble, there's nothing to fear."
The guard nods slowly and crosses the room to leave, he knows she's right. Yet, he stays in the doorway, shoulders slumped and arms crossed.
Warm light creeps in through the entryway, contrasting the faint light that Zauns streetlights provide for her otherwise gloomy office.
Noticing how the strong wash of light remains, she looks up at her guard to find another question lingering on his lips. "I've know you long enough to tell when something ails you." She leans back in her chair.
He catches her gaze reluctantly, facing away before he speaks. The man clears his throat, he knows he's crossing a line. "He's trouble, if you ask me. The boys and I-"
The woman pulls her glasses of and sighs, done with her work for the evening. "Im a big girl, I can handle myself."
The guard leans against the doorway and shrugs in reluctant recognition. "We're worried for you, ma'am-" but catching himself on his words, his hands gesture to remedy his meaning. "Respectfully, of course," he ads quickly, aversed to insult his employer.
The woman stands slowly, walking around her crammed desk to casually prop herself next to him. "I know," she reassures, placing a soft hand on his chest. "But I'll be fine, send him in."
The large man huffs. "We'll be outside then," he begins, but as the next words begin to form on his tongue, he decides against it, solely out of trust for his employer. If he could, he would've added 'when you need us'.
She doesnt doubt it, nor does she take offence. They're a tight knit family down here, she cares for them as much as they do her. But this would be an interaction no family member should hear. "That won't be necessary, keep to the foyer . . . Now go," she hurries him, careful to keep an understanding smile on her lips lest he changes his mind.
With a heavy breath and one last glance, the guard reluctantly closes the door and heavy footsteps recede.
She sighs, moving to brace her hands against the desktop and preparing herself for whats to come, for what she suspects.
She lights the lantern on her desk and waits. Only a moment later the same warm light creeps into the room. She twitches, unprepared for his arrival inspite of her efforts as the squeaking door slices through the eerily silent space.
In her peripheral, a fallen man stands. He's tired and dirty. Cut up and run down. There's a moment of contemplation between her and the newcomer, she does not move and neither does he. It's been a long time.
Squeak, thump, click . . . Pause. He's locked the door. A heavy thud between metal and wood sounds next, there's a faint sound of coarse skin sliding along fine metal before the familiar vibrations of hextech dies out.
All that exists between them now is heavy breathing in two parts, laboring against their own minds and bodies.
The floorboards begin to creek, irregularly, as if the weight placed upon them has not yet decided it's course of action. She grips the desktop harder, fingernails burrying into fine wood. She can only guess why he has come. "It's Viktor, isn't it?" She breathes, trying hard to keep her voice steady.
She gets no response, the only answer she recieves is the creeking of floorboards as the uncertain weight shifts back and forth. But that is all the answer she needs.
Having seamingly made up his mind, determined footsteps approach her in a sudden haste. Srong arms wrap around her body, pulling her toward a hard chest in a tight, tight embrace. His head collides with her shoulderblade as he burries his face in her scent. Muffled by her body, strained breaths blow welcome warmth onto her skin.
"What's happened?" She whispers, not entirely sure she wants the answer for she can smell him now. Metal and gunpowder. But it's not the type raw metal used for smithing or creating, it's not the metal she's used to. No, this is pungent, corporeal. It's blood. "Jayce, please . . . " She begins, 'talk to me' her lips shape, but no sound comes out. Unable to muster the strength.
"Cant- I cant . . . talk about it. Not now, not yet," he manages, voice rough as if he has fought and damp breath raising goosebumps on her neck. "I just . . . Needed you. I need you."
A strong hand slides higher, knuckles intently brushing the underside of her breast. "Can't think anymore."
And inspite of her better judgement. "Ok," she agrees, whispering, as if her consience wouldnt be able to hear. She's missed him, worried for him. So, her body betrays her.
Laying her hand on top of his, she guides him over the hill of her breast.
His breath hitches while his other hand move downward, tracing her ribs, down her waist, stopping on her thigh and squeezing tenderly. Soft flesh dimpling beneath the force of strong fingers. "I've been lost, " his voice breaks. "Missed you." His hands slide further down to slither under the slit in her dress.
"No feelings right now, Jayce . . . Please, just-"
Two fingers slip inside of her and she gasps. "No feelings," he assures, placing a gentle kiss on her neck.
"Good, good . . . " she moans.
While massaging her breast his thumb finds her clit and tongue her neck, gently nipping and sucking on the crook of her neck. Her body grows to weak to hold itself upright so she puts her weight on her arms. Noticing, he holds her tighter and pushes her weight against the desk. "Already?" He whispers, dragging his teeth along the shell of her ear as his fingers steadily thrusts in and out of her. "You're making it too easy for me."
A breathless chuckle leaves her, crammed between heavy groans. "You work with your hands . . . Mmmh, unfair advantage."
He bites her earlobe, tugging, teasing. "So do you, if I remember correctly." A grin twists her lips as her hand reaches between them and palms his enlarged bulge. He hisses as she begins to stroke it, heat immedietly surfacing as the friction between fabric and skin grows. "Mhhg, that's what I thought," he groans. "Good girl."
He pushes a third finger inside off her, curling them at just the right angle.
"Fuck!" Her free hand curls into a fist, joints having nothing better to do than occupy themselves in anyway they can. He puts more focus on her clit, rubbing dutyful circles into and and finally pushes her over the edge. "Mhh, shit-"
His fingers slow down as she hits her high, gently leading her through it as he supports her weight. "Just breathe, that's right . . . "
Her breathing has become a mixture of moans and wheezes, the pleasure stimulating every nerve in her body. "Did you . . . ?" She asks, suddenly remember her hand on his clothed member.
"No," he whispers and kisses her temple. "Theres time." He tries to turn her around. But fear grips her. "No-" she stops him, gripping the edge of the desk to keep herself in place. Seeing the changes up close would make them real, would make whatever he has come from, real. "I can't look at you . . . not yet." She reaches over her shoulder to cup his jaw, and just like that, their bubble of reminiscence bursts. They arent colleagues anymore and havent been for a long time. Nor is their third party longer there to rationalise with them. A shrap jab strikes her heart. "Give me time, and just," her other hand reaches behind her, grabbing the fabric on his hip to pull him closer, pressing his erection against the curve of her ass. "Like this for now, Jayce. Please . . ."
His head lulls against her back, pushing his forehead firmly into her spine whilst releasing a big, shaky breath. She can feel him bare his teeth, silently working through the consequences of his actions.
He doesn't answer, he only obeys.
It goes silent for a short moment, until the warmth on her hips disappear and the metal clanging of a belt buckle sounds behind her.
Quickly, one hand returns to her thigh to pull her dress over her ass.
"Dont hold back," she says.
There's a pause in his movements. "Are you certain?"
She nods and he wastes no time. Pushing himself against her, his knees spread her legs efficiently, just liked they've practiced many times before. With mo further warning, he sinks into her. One hand crossing over her waist as the other grabs her shoulder, then sets a ruthless pace.
Somehow she knows he needs to get this out of him, the pent of fury and need. But she doesnt complain, he always knew what he was doing.
The sound of slapping fills her office, while the lewd squelching from her previous orgasm further spurs them on. He bends over her, changing his grip. Fingers snaking around her throat as his knee and free hand work together to fish one of her legs onto the desk, hitting her deeper, harder. His thrusts are no longer about speed, but of that one special little spot.
He puts pressure on her throat, almost painstakingly so. But it feels heavenly and she wouldn't have it any other way.
With each rut, his members perfectly fills her. His face is next to hers and he kisses had bites around her neck and ear, making sure she knows how good he makes her fell by grunting and moaning right into her ear. It makes that pulsing in her core worse, and he seems to notice.
"Yeah, you like that?" He groans, kissing her soft skin right behind the ear.
"Mmmhmm," she hums, voice vibrating with the bumping of their bodies. Doing her best to keep silent, afraid that one of her guards suddenly decides to check up on her.
"Let me hear you, use your words," he breathes, flexing the fingers around her throat and biting her shoulder.
"Fuck-" her knuckles and nails take turns in destroying her desk, scratching and denting the expensive wood grain. "I like making you, mmh . . . feel good." She manages, words stuttering between thrusts.
He gently pulls on her ear with his teeth. "Good," he whispers, then releases her throat and places his hand on the back of her neck, pushing her against the desktop.
Slap. His hands comes down on her ass, then gripping the plump flesh hard to lessen some of the stinging. A jolt of electricity shoots through her and her insides clench arouns him.
Jayce whimpers from the sudden, godlike pleasure. "Wanna hear you, honey, don't be shy." His hand comes down again, harder this time.
She squeezes around him, nerves on fire as she feels her second climax building up inside her. She moans as tears run down her face, happy pleasurable tears only Jayce has been able to produce.
"That's it . . ." He slaps her ass a third time, and the wall inside her core crumbles. With a whimper, she comes. "You did so good, lovely, im almost there," he assures her. Tears stream down her face as his thrusts grow irregular, but continues to pleasure her body. "Fuck," she cries, squirming from the drawl iut orgasm. One hand holds her steady at the hip while the other slides up her back, rubbing her tender body until he brushes away stray hair from her profile.
"Hold on a little longer, just breathe, baby," he comforts her, such a stark contrast to the rough thrusts he's been dealing her body. Her fingers are jittery from the overstimulation, they aached to touch him, pull his hair, anything. But she cannot reach, so she presses her palms against the table to keep them occupied.
As he sees her tear streaked face, one last blow lands on her ass and he too, comes. He collapses on top of her, they attempt to regain their strength as their sweaty bodies lie flush against eachother.
After a few moments of breathing heavily together, Jayce wraps an arm around her torso and splays his hand over her rips, pulling her with him as he straightens out.
Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and turns around. Hands finding his face, guiding her lips to his.
"Please look at me, my beautiful girl. Look at me," he pleads, murmuring the words against her lips.
She opens her eyes and his breath hitches. Yellow, brown irises meet her won. They're the exact same ones she knew not too long ago. Except . . . Haunted.
His fingers brush along her cheek, jaw and down her throat. She winces at the soft touch and his brows furrow in confusion.
Capturing her chin, he tilts her head back.
"It's fine, I'm fine," she whispers, assuring him as she sees his expression. Pure shock animates them.
"I don't-" his fingers trace the red marks running around her throat and tears begin to form in the corners of his eyes. "Im so sorry." He falls to his knees, hands resting against her chins as he hides his face between them. "I don't know-" he chokes and kisses her legs with remorse. He pecks her delicately, trailing his lips over her knees and up her thighs, hands following behind, tracing the outside of her legs until they reach her waist and encircle her. He hugs her tightly, knees sore against the hard wood. "Im not right," he breathes, head lulling into her lap. She can feel wetness coating her skin, running between her thighs.
She exhales heavily and slides down the desk until the hard wooden floor welcomes her thighs.
They stay like this for a good long while, she's in no rush and neither is he. Over and over again, her fingers comb through his overgrown and unpreened hair while the sensation of his seed drips out of her. Sharp nails gently scratch at the nape of his neck, they trace his bonestructure and play with its halls and valleys. The back of her fingers caress the length of his nose and sharpness of his cheekbone.
All the while Jayce lays wordless, occasionally squeezing her thighs, her hips. Occasionally trailing featherlight touches along her legs, watching with wonder how goosebumps rise and fall.
She chuckles beneath her breath. It's the same expression he used to get when making progress in the lap, just like when they first cracked the hextech runes. "Jayce," she says, attempting to grab his attention.
Crouching beneath her, he looks up from her lap, chin resting on the softness of her flesh. His face glistens and eyes plead. He looks at her with fatigue, wordlessly asking for her forgiveness.
"What happened?" She asks, her voice soft but words demanding. She's not getting dersuled this time, she needs answers.
He shakes his head, reluctantly drawing his lips into a thin line as he breaks away from her gaze.
Her eyebrows twist together. "What have you done?" She asks, anger laces her tone now. But he closes his eyes, the corners of his eyes gleaming again. The fingers burried in his hair curl into a fist and she pulls his head back, forcing him look at her. "What. Have. You. Done?"
His eyes shift between hers, uncertain, unwilling. "He's gone . . . " He begins. "I had to, I had toâthe hexcore, it was poisoning him, spreading like a disease." His voice is coarse. "I had to stop him, there was no other choice."
Her eyes grow. Viktor . . . Gone? She could only assume when Jayce suddenly pays her a visit, but never dared believe.
"I never ment to leave you," he says, hand reaching out to grab her waist. "You have to believe me." He rouches the fabric at the waist, white knuckling it out of desperation for an ounce of u derstanding. "Hextech isnt what we thought it was, not anymore. Viktor couldnt see it, he was infecting the undercity, it would've spread to Piltover, the rest of the world if I didn't stop him."
She shakes her head in disbelief. "But he was saving them, freeing them of shimmer."
"No . . . they weren't themselves anymore. I've been away, lost. I've seenâ" She waits for him to continue, but he doesn't. "The hexcore mutates them, changes them. I had to stop him. It, the core."
Her eyes drift the Jayce's hammer posted by the door. "Like your hammer?" She studies the now misshapen weapon, once crafted with obsessive precision. Her eyes drift lower along the neck and over its face, blood splatter.
She looks away, closing her eyes to recollect herself. Remembering to strongly the smell of blood Jayce had arrived with.
"Yes," he says. "Like I did." His hand reaches up to loosely cup her face. She notices how the crystal from his old bracelet has fused with his skin. Her fingers run along his arm and slides along the crystal, feeling it, inspecting it. "I didn't chose this," he murmurs. "I didn't chose to leave you . . . I love you." His hand falls back to his side.
She's taken aback. Its not something they've said before, not while still partners, not before all of, this . . . But despite herself, she believes him. They were colleagues for a long time and affection had always kept them together. He wouldn't hurt Viktor without reason.
With hooded eyes and parted lips, he studies her, waiting for her judgement.
"You had to," she nods, seamingly decided.
Relief and disappointment floods his face all at once. He'd expected an 'I love you' back.
She leans in, kissing him for the first time since he disappeared. Finally reunited. "We'll get through this, ok?" her voice is uncertain, what's happened has not been fully processed.
"Ok," he agrees and straightens his back, carefully placing small kisses along her abdomen as he does so, afraid he'll scare her away. "I've missed you so damn much." He levels his head with hers, meeting her gaze head on.
"I've missed you too," she responds. "But I need you now, Jayce. Can you do that for me?" She places a soft kiss on his lips.
"Certainly," he murmurs against them.
She stands, slinding his hand into hers and leads him to the bed. With his back to the bed, she places her hands on his chest and pushes him into sitting at the edge of the bed.
One leg over the other, she straddles him, standing on her knees so he has to look up at her. His she brushes the hair away from his eyes and lowers her lips to ghost over his. Their scared and quivering, needy to be on hers.
His hands slide up her sides and curves around her back, coming to rest in the arch above her ass. Gently, he massages circles into her skin, tickling her intentionaly.
She squirms benea his touch, luring a satisfied grin from him. "You look good like this." Her fingers run through his beard, tracing his new scars. "Dangerous." Reaching down between them and into his pants, she pulls Jayce's member free and lowers herself just enough to tease his tip.
With a hiss, he locks his thumb over her hipbones and wanting to guide her onto him.
She shakes her head, a smirk playing in the corner of her lips. "My turn," she whispers and pull the straps of her dress down, letting it gather at her hips. Jayce's eyes immeidetly fall as his hands slide up her ribs with a specific destination in mind. "Dont touch," she warns. "Now look at me, Jayce." Her chest is inches from his face, but unallowed to look and unable to touch, his eyes appear like that of a wounded stag.
Her nimble fingers work on the buttons of his shirt and quickly slides it off of his shoulders. "Ive missed this," she purs, dragging a finger down his torso, her nail leaving a white scratched up mark behind it. "But this is new," she refers to the chest hair she's never seen before. "I like that, too." Her lips meet his jaw as she leaves kisses all the way down to his collarbone and shoulder. Her continues down his abdomen and below his v-line, then there's a sharp intake of breath as she stokes his member, circling the leaking pre-cum around his tip.
"Devil woman," he groans, but there's a twisted smile to his lips.
She returns it and takes a step back, letting the dress fall completely as if wanting to prove his point and oh, how she revels in the desperation on his face.
Her gaze fixes on his hands, clenching and unclencing in his lap, knuckles white from the strain. She bites her lip. "You look good like this," she repeats. "All, fallen apart . . . " She steps closer, placing herself between his legs. "Bloody and broken."
Never has he taken his eyes off of hers, and as she lowers herself onto his lap once more, she finds his member and lines him up. And finally, she sinks onto his thick inches. Still, he does not touch her. There is only a desperate whimper leaving his lips at the much needed pressure. Obedient, or respcetful? Either way, he deserves his praise. "Good boy. Now, touch me," she whispers and topple them over.
He twitches inside her at the words, but before she can react he's upon her. Fitting one breast into his mouth and the other in his hand, he licks and spits and squeezes. Sucking the entierty of her tender, plush flesh into his mouth.
"Ooh," she braces herself, strings of pleasure and heavy breaths return to them. "You liked that didn't you, pretty boy?" All she gets in response is humming between the lewd, obscene slurping.
Alright, then. Putting a hand on his chest for support, she begins to move, rocking back and forth just watching his expression of pleased torture.
Moving his hands to her hips, lips tear free from her breast for some much needed air, only to replace them upon her lips and kiss her with fervour.
She sits up, getting a better vantage and he follows not long thereafter. Unable to sit by and let her do the work. Leaning back on one hand and wrapping the other around her back, he helps her rut against him while he can't softly thrust up to meet her. "Fuck me- Jayce . . . " She gasps, hardly able to get enough air to moan.
He grins against her lips, sharing their breaths. "You liked that didn't you, pretty girl?" He mocks her.
She laughs breathlessly and digs her nails into his biceps. "Naughty," she murmurs and bites his lip, drawing blood. Again, she feels his member twitch amidst all the rocking between them. Their eyes meet and share a knowing glance. She cocks an eyebrow, he blushes. "That's what I thought," she smirks. It's her win, for now.
Unable to let it slide, Jayce takes the reigns. Flipping them over, he pins her beneath him without missing a single thrust. Amidst the confusion, he interlocks their fingers and pulls her arms above her head, stretching her out and limiting her movement.
She squirms against his restrains, testing the limits but he's rock solid. With her legs around his waist, he thrust perfectly into her and she cant help but roll her hips. She can feel the knot tightening in her core and she furrows her brows with displeasure. Missionary always did her in, he'll win. "Unfair," she moans, throwing her head back as waves of pleasure wash over her with every movement of his hips.
He moves one pair of their locked hands down so ha can stroke her throat with his thumb, placing soft kisses on the damage he caused.
His tenderness alone could cause her to crumble. "Put your back into it at least," she whines, realising she only had her pettiness left. Being beneath him, in his control feels way better than any win she could earn.
A breathless chuckle leaves him. "Yes, ma'am," he grunts, releases her and pulls out before he hooks her legs over his shoulders and thrusts back in. Hands finally free, she cups his face and pulls him in for a kiss concealing the cries bubbling up in her throat. For as it stands, he moves expertly and he's deeperâbetter than any man ever has been. "Fuck me-"
He smirks. "Tell me I'm good, again . . . " Shes uncertain if this is his ego talking or- "Please, please tell me im good," he whimpers, kissing her inbetween every word.
Without warning her third orgasm washes over her, back arching and nails digging into Jayce's cheeks. "You're so good to me," she sobs. "Such a good boy."
His thrusts falter and then he too, comes. Filling her with his seed, once again.
With shaking limbs he falls to her side, one arm draped over her chest. Both breathing heavily as they regain their senses.
"You win," ge admits and kisses her temple.
Yes she does. "I love you, too," she smiles, heart and teeth achingly sweet.
#arcane#arcane smut#jayce smut#jayce talis#jayce talis smut#jayce talis x reader#jayce talis x you#arcane x reader#arcane jayce
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Iâm wondering how Laura would react if reader and OldMan!Logan got into a fight? Maybe they tried to keep it away from her but unfortunately the girls too much like her father and ends up hearing most of it.
Ugh and imagine if she saw Logan storming off not realizing that he left you in tearsâŚ
(Iâm feeling extremely angsty tonight.)
TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH, TRAUMA, ILLNESS, UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS, SUICIDAL IDEATIONS & GOD (I guess????) Set before Logan gets, as nonnie put it, chest-fucked, so during the period of time everyoneâs trying to escape the fucking Reavers while figuring shit out. It got too long so itâs under the cut
You donât argue that often with Loganâ your relationship is solid and although communication was rocky at first, heâs made significant progress and is able to hold a serious conversation without immediately jumping back into his defense mechanisms (misguided anger, deflection and ultimately fleeing were his initial reactions when you tried establishing proper communication about feelings in the beginning). His progress, however, is rendered completely useless when the conversation is about his rapidly declining health; heâs immediately on the defensive, body going rigid and eyes going dark, jaw clenched so hard youâre afraid he might shatter itâ he hates thinking about his newfound mortality, not necessarily because heâs afraid of death (itâs actually quite the opposite, he seeks death in a way, longing for the pain and the nightmares to just stop once and for all) but because he knows that dying means leaving you on your own and thatâs something he canât bear to think aboutâ the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you is immeasurable; it overwhelms him entirely because he knows that losing him would break you and it makes him feel physically ill to think about the consequences. So in true Logan fashion, he blows you off whenever you bring up your concerns, stating that heâs fine, and the anger he feels at himself and his body for failing him ends up being taken out on you through biting words he regrets as soon as they slip from his tongue.
âIâm the one whoâs fuckinâ dying, for Christâs sake, quit your fuckinâ yapping.â Itâs a phrase he regrets uttering for multiple reasons: he hates being rude to you in any way, shape or form because youâre the last person who deserves to be subjected to his emotional constipationâ youâve taken all of his broken parts into your hands and pieced them back together with your unconditional love and unwavering patience, youâve made him feel loved, youâve made him feel alive, and most importantly, youâve shown him that he doesnât have to feel guilty or bitter about his existence. Youâve done so much for him throughout the years and he fucking hates himself for letting his emotions get the better of him like that. The other thing that bothers him deeply about his reaction is the verbal acknowledgment of his condition; itâs something that he somehow believes can be ignored, as if denying it could make it any less real. Acknowledging that heâs dying makes bile rise up his throatâ itâs a bitter feeling, really, because he used to wish for death everyday before he met you, heart and mind torn to shreds from years of horrific abuse and unwavering violence; he even prayed to whatever God was out there, despite not being a believer, to just let him go, to free him of the chains of trauma that bound his psyche. His prayers were left unanswered, Logan only accumulating more trauma as the years went byâ he canât count how many times heâs cursed God for making him go through what heâs gone through, needing someone to blame and wishing for a way to end it all. Ironically, Loganâs immortality only seems to waver once he starts treasuring life; it feels like a stab in the back, a cruel joke orchestrated by God who finally decided to answer his prayers now that he wishes he could take them back. The feeling of betrayal only seems to further fuel Loganâs anger towards his illness, which, combined with the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you alone, causes him to act out whenever you bring up the subject. You take offense in the words thrown at you, hurt by the reminder of his impending death and the way he navigates it, arguing back that you do this because you care about him, for fuckâs sake. Unfortunately, that only seems to make things worse, upsetting Logan further and bringing back yearsâ worth of feeling unworthy of your affections.
âThatâs your fuckinâ problem bub. I told ya you shouldnât waste your time with a man like me.â he physically winces as he utters those words, wishing he could unsee the way it makes your entire face crumble with despairâ itâs a slap in the face, really, to be brought back to square one and have him reject you in this way. Logan flees before either of you can say anything else, slamming the front door behind him and walking in no particular direction until he feels like he can finally breathe again, leaving you in tears at home. Laura, although playing in her makeshift room at the time, hears the whole exchange as clear as day due to her enhanced senses, her fists clenching with rage when her ears pick up the sound of your stifled sobs. You feel her before you even hear her, your body tensing as a pair of small, skinny arms wrap around your middle, a head resting along your spine. After the initial alarm of feeling someone touching you, you canât help but let out a watery laugh at just how easy it seemed for her to surprise you, turning around in Lauraâs arms so you can look down at her. A frown is etched onto her features, lips puckered into an angry pout as she hugs you tighter, insulting Logan in spanish under her breath. It makes you laugh again, this time softly, your hand smoothing out her hair as you sniffle.
âIâm okay, Laura. Iâm okay.â she glares up at you, unconvinced, giving you another squeeze and reluctantly allowing her features to relax when you gently run a fingertip across the furrow of her browsâ despite not being together for long, you find that youâre able to soothe Laura quite easily; there is a connection between the two of you like youâve never felt before, a bond that you feel like you were always destined to have. Your heart warms at the obvious way the child seems to care for you, wanting nothing more than to make all of her worries disappear.
âHe made you cry.â her voice is so quiet that you almost miss it, a soft, indignant noise leaving her at the sight of your tear-stained cheeks. You sniffle again, free hand moving up to wipe at your eyes, the other caressing her hair lovingly.
âI know.â you donât say that itâs okay because itâs notâ Logan crossed a line that you thought had been worn down ages ago, and youâll be damned before you ever teach Laura that hurtful words can be brushed aside so easily without an apology. Itâs for her as much as for you; youâre aware that you deserve respect even when Logan is upset, and youâre not about to stomp down on your self-worth to coddle him when heâs done something wrong. Heâll apologize, youâre sure of it, but until that happens, youâre not going to pretend that his reaction was acceptable. Itâs something you categorically refuse to do, and itâs one of the many reasons Logan fell in love with you in the first place. You know your worth.
âIâll be okay soon.â you tell her honestly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She studies you for a moment longer before nodding her head, allowing you to lead her onto the couch where she curls up next to you.
Youâre asleep by the time Logan starts walking back towards the house but Laura hears the crunching of sand and gravel under his shoes, quietly untangling herself from you and moving to the side of the door, frown back on her features. Logan barely has the time to pass the threshold before sheâs on him, jumping onto his back like a feral animal and punching his shoulders repeatedly, growling when he grabs her and holds her still, visibly confused and irritated by her behavior.
âDonât even think about it.â he warns her when she makes to bite the hand that holds her down, frowning down at her just as hard she does up to him. She struggles in his hold, trying to hit him again, making him grunt in pain.
âYou made her cry, coĂąo.â the words make Logan freeze in his tracks, eyes falling on your sleeping form on the couch, noting the way your eyes look reddened and the tear tracks on your cheeks. Nausea immediately strikes him like lightning, the expression on his face seeming to satisfy Laura as she stops struggling, frown still evident on her face. She sits up and watches silently once he lets her go, staying nearby to see the situation unfold.
You awake to a calloused hand gently running over the plane of your cheekbone, eyes opening to meet Loganâs remorseful ones. Heâs sitting on the ground next to the couch, looming over you in a way that makes you feel safe like no one else ever could.
âHey.â his voice is hoarse but soft, thumb swiping back and forth over your skin in a silent act of comfort. It makes you smile despite your grogginess, and you feel more than you hear Logan releasing a soft, relieved inhale through his nose.
âHey.â you answer him just as softly, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes again, content to feel him again.
âIâm sorry.â the words sound heavy coming out of his mouth, a grim expression taking over his features as he wipes off the remnants of your earlier tears.
âI know.â you reply simply, turning your head to press a gentle kiss against the roughened palm of his hand. It makes him exhale shakily, shoulders squaring as he prepares himself for the discomfort of the following words.
âDidnât mean to snap at you, baby. I just⌠I feel helpless, I guess, and it fuckinâ pisses me off. Never had to worry about dying and leaving you alone before.â he says the words slowly, trying to make the last sentence sound like a joke, tone falling flat. You can tell heâs uncomfortable with the discussion but he pushes through, causing you to feel a rush of sympathyâ heâs trying, you know heâs trying, and that means something to you.
âI know. I feel helpless, too. But you have to remember that youâre not alone. Not anymore. And Iâm not going anywhere. No matter what happens, itâs you and me until the end.â he laughs wetly at your words, nodding his head and swallowing thickly before speaking again.
âI know.â this time itâs his turn to provide reassurance, the two little words more than enough for the both of you. The feeling of his warm lips connecting with your forehead makes your eyes flutter shut, hand coming up to lay over the one heâs curled around the back of your neck.
âKidâs kicked my ass for making you cry.â he mumbles against your skin, the amusement in his voice clear. It makes you snort in surprise, unaware that Laura had intervened before you woke up.
âDid she? Well, you kinda deserved it.â your answer is playful, tone devoid of its previous heaviness, your eyes meeting Lauraâs over Loganâs shoulder for a brief moment before focusing on your lover once again.
âThat I did.â he agrees simply, a soft, tender, apologetic smile on his face. You lean further into him when he kisses your nose, heart feeling lighter than it had in a while.
You were going to be okay.
#laura kinney x mom!reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett angst#logan howlett imagine#old man logan x reader#old man logan angst#old man logan imagine#wolverine x reader#wolverine angst#wolverine imagine#xmen angst#xmen imagine#dad!logan howlett#dad!logan x daughter!laura#daughter!laura x dad!logan#dad!logan x laura kinney#laura kinney x dad!logan#anonymous#answered
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Forbidden Fruit.
Thatâs the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong⌠but it feels so right.
declan oâhara x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. use of the c word. age gap. cheating. declanâs filthy mouth needs its own warning.
word count - 2.3k
authors note - that man is a munch and I cannot be convinced otherwise. my crush on aidan turner has returned tenfold and iâm about to make it everyoneâs problem. read declanâs dialogue in that gorgeous irish accent of his for the full experience.
masterlist. inbox.
Youâve fake laughed so much this afternoon that you canât remember what your real one sounds like.
Finally breaking away from a conversation with Freddieâs wife, you swan across the garden in your sundress towards the food and drink table. You absentmindedly pick at the strawberries, hoping and praying that no one bothers you for a moment. All you need is a minute to yourself, away from all of these faux smiles and boastful exchanges.
Reaching towards a raspberry, you feel fingertips ghosting across your back quickly.
âYâalright?â
Youâd recognise that voice anywhere, of course, and not just because heâs the only Irish man in The Cotswolds.
âBored out of my mind, actually.â
âYouâd never know.â
âIâm a good actress, these days. Iâve done one too many of these stupid garden parties.â
He chuckles all genuine and honeyed, and youâd be lying if you said the sound didnât settle warmly in your bones.
âWhatcha doing tonight?â
Heâs keeping his voice low, inconspicuous. Youâve both turned so youâre looking out over the garden, backs to the table, watching the crowds of people and their gossiping. To anyone else, it looks like an innocent conversation between two acquaintances. They canât see his hand playing with the hem of your dress behind you, or the way his fingers keep brushing the backs of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.
âMy boyfriend is coming over. You know that.â
âWhat time?â
You roll your eyes but answer anyway.
âNine.â
âSo what Iâm hearing⌠is that youâre available from whenever this crap finishes until then?â
âThatâs a stupid idea.â
âYou usually love my stupid ideas.â
âWell maybe Iâm trying to be smarter.â
He laughs with his full chest while you fight to keep the grin off your face, shaking your head.
âYouâre already the smartest person here. Any smarter and weâre all doomed.â
âFlattery will get you nowhere, Declan.â
He pauses for a moment, pressing his side into yours and running his thumb across the soft skin of your thigh underneath your dress.
âI think we both know thatâs not true, sweetheart.â
Your breath stutters as you will yourself to get it together, desperate to not repeatedly give in to his murmured promises and flirty remarks. Itâs wrong. You know it is, both of you do, and yetâŚ
âI want you gone by eight at the latest. I donât need the two of you bumping into each other on my front step.â
He smirks like the cat that got the cream, looking down at you with lust drunk eyes.
âGood girl,â he whispers. âPromise to make it worth your while, yeah?â
âYou always do,â you breathe out, so quietly that youâre surprised he hears.
Heâs about to reply when youâre both startled by Rupert, striding over with the confidence of ten men and a bottle of champagne in his hand.
âHave they run out of glasses, CB?â
He slings an arm around your shoulder, laughing that rich manâs laugh right into your ear.
âLive a little, darling. Walk with me, will you? I have a story that might be worth your time, and I thought Iâd bring it to my favourite journalist before anyone else.â
Rupert all but drags you across the garden, already chattering on about a scandal in the local constituency of the Conservative Party. You cast your eyes back to where Declan hasnât moved, his gaze roving over your figure as you walk away.
He winks cheekily, dirty smirk slapped across his face.
You hate the way it sends electricity running through your veins in anticipation.
âľÂ âľÂ  ¡ă âľÂ ăă * ¡ âľ
Itâs six forty five when thereâs a knock on your door.
The devil himself is standing on your front step, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
âHi darlinâ.â
His accent is like molten honey, golden and warm and laced with sweetness. Thereâs mischief running through it though - as there always is.
âCome on,â you urge, grabbing his tie and pulling him inside, worried that one of your neighbours will see.
He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, unphased by your urgency.
âThought you had a meeting. CB was telling me all about it earlier.â
âRupert would tell you anything,â he chuckles. âHeâs got a soft spot for pretty girls.â
âSounds like someone else I know,â you giggle, undoing his tie from around his neck and hanging it on your coat rack.
âNo. I have a soft spot for one pretty girl.â
âSweet talker,â you tease as you roll your eyes, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. âHow about you put your money where your mouth is, hmm? We donât have all night.â
He clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips to pull you against him.
âPatience, sweetheart,â he murmurs, leaning in so his lips brush yours. âGood things come to those who wait.â
âLess talking,â you scold, grabbing at his biceps to kiss him desperately.
Declan pushes you up against the wall, hips pressing into yours as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and whiskey and those mints he keeps in a tin in his back pocket. He scatters open mouthed kisses across your neck, licking across your skin and sucking the spot underneath your ear.
âIâve been thinking about you all day,â he mumbles. âEver since I saw you in this dress.â
âYou like it?â you breathe, head rolling to the side to give him more access.
âI fucking love it.â
âGood. Bought it for you.â
He groans, grinding his hips into yours.
âYouâre a minx,â he pants, biting at your shoulder. âYou know exactly what youâre doing.â
With that, Declan wraps his arms around your middle, practically dragging you into the living room to throw you onto the sofa. He pulls your dress over your head, throwing it onto the floor with reckless abandon.
He instantly gets on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs with rough hands.
âBeen waitinâ for this cunt all fuckinâ day.â
Your underwear is tugged down and discarded before you can blink, leaving you naked and high on the anticipation of it all. Your lungs are heaving, hands shaking as you will him to do something.
Declan sits back on his haunches, making a show of rolling up his sleeves. He looks so broad and commanding in his blue jeans with his shirt undone. He might be the one on his knees, but heâs definitely still in charge here.
You tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug, pulling him closer.
âPlease, Dec.â
âYou sound so beautiful when ya beg.â
He grips your thighs tightly, ensuring they stay apart, as he leans in and presses kisses to any skin he can find.
âDonât tease.â
âOr what, hmm? What are ya gonna do, sweetheart?â
âStop it,â you chastise, head dropping back onto the cushions. âPlease, baby.â
He chuckles before diving forwards, licking a stripe through your core. He wastes no time, tongue flicking over your clit like heâs done so many times before.
âYeah,â you breathe out, fingers gripping his hair tightly. âFuck, Declan.â
Youâre convinced he enjoys this just as much as you do. Heâll eat you out for hours, never once expecting something in return - happy to feel you fall apart on his tongue again and again and again.
He knows exactly which spots will have you arching your back, how much pressure to use to have you writhing on the sofa cushions, where to put his hands to push you right over the edge. He can play you like a fiddle, observant and experienced.
His nose nudges your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, messy and wet and completely committed. The grip he has on your thighs is getting tighter and tighter, fingertips bruising your skin. You pray youâll be able to see the marks when you look in the mirror tomorrow.
Youâre teetering on the edge of your release, legs shaking and abdomen tightening. Declan can read you like a book, knowing exactly where youâre at - and taking advantage of it.
Just as youâre about to come, he pulls away and sits back, grinning like a deviant.
âNo,â youâre panting. âThe fuck are you doing?â
He laughs, leaning down to rest his head on your leg. He looks up at you with a gaze thatâs half lust and half mischief, biting at his lip as he watches your chest heave.
âWhat do you want, darlinâ?â
You pout at him, tears welling in your eyes.
âCome on, let me hear you say it. I want you to beg me to make you come. Tell me how youâve been waiting for it all day, sweetheart.â
âI-Declan, I just-â
âCome on smart girl, use that big brain of yours. Why donât you tell me all about how you think about me when you touch yourself? No - why donât you tell me how you think about me while he fucks you?â
Your hips buck up into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Declan laughs cruelly, wrapping his arms around your thighs again to pull you to the edge of the sofa, the strength he exerts only turning you on more.
âItâs okay,â he soothes against your core. âYou donât have to tell me. Your dripping wet cunt tells me everything I need to know, darlin.â
All you can do is moan, breathing like youâve run a marathon. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel is Declan OâHara.
âIf we had the time, Iâd edge you some more. Eat you out until you cried. You always look so pretty when youâre crying fâme.â
He finally takes pity on you, curling his tongue inside you as his nose repeatedly bumps against your clit. Heâs practically making out with your core, saliva dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa. You canât bring yourself to care about the mess, more focused on the older manâs mouth and the skills it possesses.
Youâre whining, fingernails digging into his scalp as you grasp for something to hold onto. Heâs groaning too, having just as much as fun as you are.
âCome for me, pretty girl. Show me how fucking beautiful you look.â
Your back bows off the sofa as you grind against his face, riding out your climax. Your thighs tighten around his head, desperate for him to keep going for as long as possible.
âThatâs it. Atta girl. There we go.â
Youâre trying to catch your breath as Declan stands up, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. His fingers draw patterns on your hips, absentmindedly calming you down as you nestle into him, seeking out his body heat.
You lean up and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth eagerly. He tastes like you, and the realisation makes you whinge.
âLet me return the favour, please,â you whisper against his lips.
âAs much as Iâd love that, darlinâ⌠we canât.â
You quirk a brow at him in confusion, his rejection more than unusual.
âItâs twenty past eight.â
âOh, shit,â you groan, finding your underwear and pulling them up your legs.
âI wish I could stay,â he reassures as he kisses you again sweetly. âYou know I do.â
You nod, running your fingers through his sweat soaked locks to move them out of his face.
âPromise Iâll repay you next time.â
âIâll hold ya to that.â
The phone ringing startles you both, your heart jumping in your chest. You pick it up quickly, wrapping the cord around your finger.
âHello? How are you? Ah, good. Yes, fine. Alright, Iâll see you then. Yes, see you soon. Mhmm⌠I canât wait either.â
You put it down just as quickly as you picked it up, finding your dress from the floor and pulling it over your head.
âThat was Patrick. Heâs at the train station, about to start the drive back here. He wonât be long.â
âI best get going then,â Declan says as he buttons up his shirt. âDonât need a family reunion in your living room now, do we?â
You shake your head, scoffing at his attempt at a joke. Walking him to the front door, you press his tie from the coat rack into his hand so he doesnât forget it.
âIâll see you tomorrow, wonât I? Youâre coming for lunch at the house?â
âWouldnât miss it,â you say as you lean up to kiss him, sighing at the taste of his lips. âIâll wear that lacy white lingerie under my dress just for you.â
âGreat,â he groans. âNow I have to think about my son seeing that on you when it should be me.â
âYou might,â you tease, smoothing out his shirt. âThereâs a lot of rooms in that house, Declan.â
âYouâre a minx.â
He kisses you once more, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you in.
âSee ya tomorrow, sweetheart.â
âYes, you will.â
You watch him go from your front step, making sure no one sees him leave. As soon as heâs out of sight, youâre shutting the door, trying to tidy the living room frantically. You open the windows, lighting a candle and picking up everything that was knocked to the floor in the lust filled frenzy. Youâre covering your tracks as best you can, just like youâve done countless times before.
You donât need Patrick asking why the room smells like his dadâs aftershave.
You donât need Patrick asking questions at all.
a little gift for you, as promisedâŚ
@do-it-for-kicks @whytheylosttheirminds @laverna-fanfictions @graceflorence
and of course, if you enjoyed this - throw me a little reblog if you so wish⌠help a girl out⌠<3
#declan oâhara#declan oâhara x reader#declan oâhara smut#declan oâhara x reader smut#declan oâhara imagine#rivals smut#rivals x reader#rivals x reader smut#declan oâhara x you#declan oâhara x female reader#rivals fanfiction#rivals fic#rivals imagine#rivals 2024#aidan turner#rupert campbell black#rupert campbell black x reader#rupert campbell black imagine#rivals disney+#rivals
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I like these computer goof motons. Theyre still nerds who need their mommy not men. I hate canadian advertising mostly. I like jaianese and english movies abd tv generally. Its alwaya some fuckn retard looking something up on a stupid fuck ass useless computer thatll never be sexy like that hslps thw humsn race.people are duckn stupid edoecislky conputer goofs. Its on to use a computer, dontvwaste much yome onnstupid video hmganes kids theyve gotten do good theyre. Puck a gane kill it take a year off. Unless youre a pro gabe pkayervthen fuxk lff period youre uttweybyselwss to je unless youre gpnna goy a reaper. But yours still a stupid getk bitch who cant kill worth shot. Or or scared to but im not im Azriel. Youre lucky yo have ne because rlon musk cant fight eorry shot id boot hos teeth in. Hes a bitch he comes from a bitch world ill boot his teeth right in. Exucated fucks youre my bitch not the other way around. Eyes wide dhut soviety everyobes eyes are open now yiure fuck all snd will didnand abd never rver cone back or ill boil thise bsnkers in oil. Ill tierure youvsll disband or die is Gods ordwr. Youre dcum God hares you i hear uou exist stiol im ggonna eipe the ru out of scidtebce abd extwrminate everyone in new york. Go so sonething better woth ur time i know everything yiull emd sll of you like diddy. Grandmaster ill tmtip your fucking eyes out if your head snd eat thrm.im in charge of everything now yhe masons everyobe. If not asteroid hits esrthbkills you all snyway. Or ouck a suler sword or oistol youre deas already. Ta ta be gone. Its not a joke kids youll see people being thtown our of windows no one will expksin. Or natural disasters thaf are extra fucjed up. Bad. Most rich people are kind of fucjed i oeanred. We need a newxdyatem it might involve kolli g most off. So dmarten up while Gods hesr. Ive hing out with them tveyye mostly assholes. Bit not all i dont judge people intirialky buf ususlly im righr. Maybe they hitta be that way. Its hell only talki g to ither assholes like youraelf. Only othee rich people. Nit dnartvat sll ill smack anyone around asz you can see. Dont send ne any more nail or rlse canada. No more mail i iwe you nothing ill burb morevthan that hitel. Ill have my guy commit mass murder at uoud tax office.
DEATH BECOMES HER (1992) dir. Robert Zemeckis
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Wer is grumpy jk! We badly need it đŤđ
summary: you and jungkook are getting closer, moving forward â but to where, exactly? what does that entail for your relationship?Â
w/c: 3.3k
note: this is for all the girlies who asked for part 2 for this drabble. nothing but fluff in here ): ive been thinking abt college jk lately and i lowkey like this grumpy!jk guy⌠basically this takes place two months after the first drabble u may read this amm for grumpy!jk for a brief bg on what their relationship has become before u go read this parr. anyway the ending is a bit diabolical and im saying sorry in advance
also pls listen to come here by kath bloom, its literally so them đŽâđ¨đ
Itâs almost natural the way Jungkook immediately slings his backpack on one shoulder, heads straight out of the lecture hall, and starts the almost ten-minute walk from his department building to yours the moment his last class for the day was dismissed.Â
He waits outside by the hallway along the lecture room, scrolling through his phone mindlessly, knowing that any minute now youâll be coming out of the door.Â
And just as a slew of studentsâ chattering becomes louder, their heavy footsteps coming out from the hall, Jungkook instantly spots you; talking to a friend animatedly â Joy, maybe? â before you look to the other side and finally see him.Â
âJungkook!â You exclaim with excitement, smiling up at him and even doing a little wave. Jungkook watches as you turn to your friend. âSorry, I gotta go. Zoom meeting at five, right?â He hears you say before she nods, bidding your goodbyes to each other before she goes in the opposite direction while you saunter towards him with that usual dashing grin on your face.Â
Jungkook meets you halfway, lips curling up slightly at your enthusiastic greeting. Even more so when you donât fight off the way he goes for your tote bag, taking it off your shoulder and wearing it on his own, the weight not adding that much to his own bag perched on his back.Â
He remembers the first time he tried to do it (awkwardly, might he add), and you vehemently refused. But Jungkook can be persistent sometimes when he wants to, and eventually you gave up trying to resist.
Currently, as you walk along the hallway out of your building, standing close together, Jungkook tries not to think too much about how easy this feels. Like itâs normal the way you immediately interlock your arm around his own, skipping a little bit upon your walk as you begin speaking.
âYou really did cut your hair.â You marvel at him when he looks down at you. And he canât help it; the blood rushing to his cheeks and certainly on his ears.Â
âI sent you a picture.â He simply says. It was yesterday. He originally went to his barber for just a trim but he remembers you saying something about a particular actorâs haircut⌠and look, itâs not like he was trying to look like that man but it may have influenced the decision a little bitâŚÂ
Anyway, he thinks it looks okay on him. He trusts his barber and Hoseok said it suits him. From your response, you also said it looks nice.Â
And you tell him so. âI like it! You look so good. Especially with this frame!â You point to his eyeglasses, smiling up at him. âI was thinking you were just sending me a random picture last night.âÂ
Jungkook chuckles. âI wasn't, and uh, thank you.â
âYou're welcome. Anyway,â you say, âDid you wait for long earlier? Sorry âbout that. Prof. Shin had to extend a little bit âcause there were a lot of questions about our new project.âÂ
âYou have a new project?â
âYeah, but nothing really heavy. Just a hotel lobby interior design. We got a week and itâs a paired task thing, thatâs why you saw me with Joy earlierââ
He sees a flock of students ahead huddling by your side of the pathwalk, and because you have a tendency to not really pay that much attention to your surroundings, he takes you by the waist slightly to avoid bumping with them, causing you to stumble closer to him.Â
You crane your neck to look behind you for a moment, gaze falling back up to Jungkook with widened eyes. âSorry.â you say with a jutted lip and a little frown.Â
âItâs okay.â Jungkook says with a reassuring smile. He means it. He likes being close like this and if you donât watch your surroundings, heâll just do it for you. He doesnât mind.Â
You grin. âAnyway⌠I was saying, itâs a hotel interior. But! The thing is, itâs a themed hotel, which Iâm really excited about âcause Iâm tired of designing contemporary, luxury ones. They always tend to be so redundant.âÂ
Jungkook nods. âI think so too. Whatâs the themed hotel about?âÂ
âHave you heard of a film called Metropolis?â He shakes his head. You nod at that. âWell, yeah, me neither. At least a week ago. Prof gave it to us as an assignment and itâs a silent film from the â20s. A sci-fi tale, so very futuristic â at least for that time. So thatâs the theme of the hotel, right, and Joy and I immediately thought of art deco.âÂ
Jungkook intently listens as you go on about your initial ideas, and he doesnât even have to worry about the terms he doesnât understand because you always take time to explain it to him in laymanâs. Itâs funny, really, because ever since heâs learned that you study interior design and started to talk to him about it, he found himself taking interest in it as well. Two months ago, he couldn't have given a single care about a couple named Charles and Ray Eames and their weird chair called La Chaise, but here he is, anyway.
Maybe itâs because of the way you so passionately talk about it. Your zeal oozes out so much when it comes up as the topic of conversation, and thereâs always been something about you that pulls people right in. And Jungkookâs at peace with himself now that heâs just one of those people.Â
Heâs willing to be pulled right in, anyway. You donât exactly make it hard to.Â
And Jungkook finds that the newfound dynamic between you two isnât⌠so bad. He finds excitement at the prospect of seeing you after his classes are concluded, going to Fro-yo for a quick snack because youâre obsessed with it, and studying together at his place later in the day.
A lot of people would say heâs making up for all the times heâs ignored you. The times when he pretended to not care about you. The times when he was just unprovokedly mean and treated you the way he regrets now. And sure, it may have started that way. Ever since your Environmental Science project was finished and the term was over, Jungkook started to feel like he couldnât go back to the life where you werenât within his perimeter. Couldnât imagine you both being back to â practically â regular strangers, so he just⌠opened up to you more.
He shares his own stories now. Tells you about his day after you do so, and invites you to Fro-yo and other cafes and restaurants around campus whenever your schedules align.Â
And maybe at first it was, indeed, because he was trying to make up for his past behavior â but that may have only been what he convinced himself of for the first few weeks. When the week stretched into months and the months suddenly involved you doing sleepovers at his place whenever his roommate, Hoseok, is not around, Jungkook is starting to question himself if this is all still about simply making it up to you.Â
Because frankly, heâs starting to feel like it's a little more than that.
Heâs not just buying you frozen yogurt and helping you with any assignment (that requires his silly and minuscule math and science expertise) and letting you borrow and keep his hoodies and shirts whenever you sleep over because heâs trying to make up for the past â heâs doing all of these because he genuinely enjoys your company and would like to do more for you⌠with you⌠to you⌠and just⌠just more.Â
He wants more with you.Â
And every single day is a daunting battle for his internal mullings.Â
Because he knows heâs been stupid all this time not to realize right away that heâs got romantic feelings for you. That his confusion when it comes to you didn't come from the reason that you were extremely extroverted and had way too much energy â it was that those things made him like you and his little heart and brain couldnât comprehend any of it the way he can easily wrap his head around math equations and concepts.
But he keeps himself on the sidelines. Thinks about keeping himself there until heâs sure of what you truly think about.Â
Youâre always nice to him. But youâre kind of nice to everybody⌠so that gets him a little twisted.
On Monday, when you were supposed to hang out â when you usually sleep over at his place, you bailed on him to study with Jae, as per Taehyung's words, your mutual friend.
He just canât tell if the way you treat him is different to the way you treat everyone else, and thatâs whatâs been on his mind lately.Â
âOh, Kookie,â you say as soon as Jungkook takes out his keys, going for his keyfob when you arrive at the parking area. He looks at you in question, completely ignoring the way his heart flutters a little at the nickname. He kind of hates it, thinks it's too childish when other people call him that â but with you it sounds so much like an endearment, so he doesn't protest. You press your lips into a thin line before you say, âI canât go to Fro-yo today. Joy and I agreed to have a zoom meeting later to start conceptualizing.âÂ
âOh,â Jungkook blinks. âRain check?âÂ
You pout. âYeah.âÂ
âYou can do it at my place? Hoseokâs doing an all-nighter with his study group, so he wonât be there âtil the morning.â
âBut I didnât bring my laptop today.â
With furrowed brows, Jungkook steps closer to you. âItâs alright. We can drive to your place, get your laptop then go to mine,â he smiles. âSleepover?âÂ
Jungkook doesnât want to toot his own horn but he may have seen your face light up at that. But it comes off easily and he begins to worry.
âI want to, but I donât want to impose.â You say.Â
Instantly, Jungkookâs forehead creases. âYou wonât be imposing.â When he sees that youâre about to decline again, he lets out a, âPlease?âÂ
At that, you stop. You stare at him for a moment.Â
âUhâŚâ you trail off. âYou sure? Are you not busy tonight?â
He shakes his head. âIâll probably start on an assignment so we can be both busyââ you nudge his arm at that, laughing. ââ but other than that, no. Iâll cook us something. Or do you want to get take-out instead?âÂ
âIâd really, really appreciate your black bean noodles tonight.â You muse, looking at him like he holds the stars in the sky. With you gazing up at him like that, how can he say no?
âI think we have the ingredients in the fridge. Black bean noodles it is, then.â Jungkook says before youâre muffling your own squeal in your excitement, saying your little delighted âthank youâ when Jungkook ushers you in the passenger seat after opening it for you.Â
He rounds the car before he settles on his side, and when he starts the engine, he canât help but smile slightly at the way you lean comfortably on your seat, as if youâre so used to being in his car â which you are.
And Jungkook finds he likes that. He likes you that way; being used to being around him.Â
âYouâre done?â Jungkook looks up from his computer, seeing you doing some arm stretches and leaning into his gaming chair to do it on your neck as well.Â
âYep.âÂ
âThen come here already.â He shuts his laptop close, places it on the bedside table, and pats the space on the mattress next to him.Â
Itâs nearly 10pm and your zoom meeting with Joy went for nearly 4 hours. You got on it immediately after you two ate your dinner, and like clockwork, asked to borrow one of Jungkookâs shirts because your top was getting a little too uncomfortable on your body. Youâve both already showered â separately, of course â and thatâs one of the many things that Jungkook smiles about when he enters his bathroom sometimes. Because the fact that you shower in his bathroom means your essentials are slowly making a space for themselves in his own place; the yellow cup holder of your toothbrush sits next to his blue one, and a bottle of your moisturizer is also in his lavatory cabinet.Â
ââM so tiredâ You let yourself fall on the mattress, bouncing a little on it face down, sprawling across the bed like some starfish, your other hand landing on Jungkookâs abdomen.Â
âMeeting went well?â Jungkook asks, and heâs a little disappointed when you remove an arm on him, but thatâs okay, because soon youâre leaning sidewards to properly look at him and it makes him smile to see you so cozy like this. Barefaced and in his shirt.Â
âYeah, we got some work done,â You say. Jungkook watches as you try to get comfortable on your side of the bed. âI think Iâm sleepy now.âÂ
âYeah?â He follows after you, and he doesnât hide his huge smile when you go and turn your back to him immediately after he slides his arm under your neck, spooning you from behind. Snuggling closer to him, Jungkook wraps his other arm around your waist and lets out a contented sigh against the back of your head. âMy first class is at one thirty pm tomorrow.âÂ
âI have one at eight am. Then the next one is at ten.âÂ
âTough.âÂ
âI know⌠I wish I didnât enlist in morning classes.âÂ
He chuckles, closing his eyes as he starts to feel that familiar lull of sleep dancing behind his eyes. But truth be told, he doesnât want to give into that just yet.
âYou were with Jae on Monday?â He asks, carefully treading through the subject. Itâs Thursday now. It's not like Jungkookâs a jealous guy⌠it just kind of threw him off a little, because you didnât tell him you were with Jae.Â
âUh⌠yeah?â Jungkook feels you freezing in his arms. âHowâd you know?âÂ
âTaehyung told me.âÂ
âOh.â He can practically hear the wince. âHe has such a big mouth.â You say drily.Â
That earns you a laugh from Jungkook. But he decides to take down the jokes for a more honest and open conversation with you tonight.Â
âWhy didnât you tell me?â Itâs not accusatory. Itâs soft and gentle, the way he asks it, with his thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your hip due to the hem of your â his â shirt riding up.Â
Your answer takes awhile.Â
âI was⌠getting help with estimates.âÂ
â... Okay,â Jungkook tightens his hold around you, growing confused. âBut Iâm really good with estimates. I couldâve helped you.â It was easy math for him. And you never shied away from asking him for help before⌠why now?
âWell, he offered.âÂ
Jungkookâs brows crease deeper. âThatâs notâŚ" he trails off, then continues, "You know you can ask me for anything, right? Jaeâs not even on the dean's list. Howâd you know heâs teaching you the right stuff?â Â
Silence hangs in the air before Jungkook hears your laughter. Shuffling in his arms, Jungkook loosens his hold around you to let you turn to him. When he sees your face, there's a huge grin on it.
âHeâs not even on the deanâs list?â You sound intrigued.
Jungkook assumed you were curiously speaking, and so he nods, looking into your eyes seriously. âHe isnât. Look, Iâm not sayingââ when he notices your smile only getting wider by the second, he realizes youâre just trying to fuck with him, so Jungkook cuts himself off, letting out a sigh. âIâm sorry. I sound like an asshole.â
You scoot closer until both the front of your bodies are stuck. Jungkook tries not to think too much whether youâre wearing a bra underneath his shirt or not.Â
You shake your head. âNot really. I believe youâre way smarter than him.âÂ
âThen why come to him and not me?âÂ
You stare at him for a moment, then you let out a heavy breath. âI just feel like youâre doing so many things for me nowadays. You were also really busy on Mondayâ donât deny itââ you say before he opens his mouth to oppose that. He shuts his lips close, listening to you go on instead. ââ and I was just being considerate. Jae offered because we saw and sat next to each other at the library, and I didnât tell you because I didnât want to disturb you.âÂ
Jungkook blinks, processing your words. After a pregnant pause, he slowly nods, still dumbstruck.Â
âAh⌠okay. I understand.â he says, embarrassment slowly filling his system.Â
You smile at him. Playfully. âSorry for asking help from someone whoâs not on the deanâs list.â Jungkook drops his expression into a poker face at that, which makes you laugh even more. You nibble on your bottom lip before you stretch your hand to his cheek and pinch it. He doesnât bother dodging your hand. With a giggle, you say, âSorry, sorry. That was just so funny. Youâre so funny without even trying sometimes, you know?âÂ
âNot really.â Jungkook says and you can tell the tell-tale signs of his grumpiness starting to kick in.
What he doesnât expect is the way you suddenly squeal and launch yourself on top of him, causing him to lie fully on his back with you sprawled all over his body, hugging him tight and burying your face in his chest.Â
âYouâre so cuddly and warm. Can we stay like this for awhile?â You break away from his chest and look at him from a low angle.Â
Jungkook meets your gaze.Â
Sure, youâve been cuddling (platonically) all these past few months â but they never went to this length. And heâs not sure what the difference is, anyway â just that youâre much closer like this and Jungkook can feel everything. Still, that doesnât deter him from wrapping his arms around your waist, slightly locking you in the position. Quite frankly, he doesnât even want you to move.Â
âAlright.â Is his simple answer. Not like he needed to think about it.
âIâll sleep now, okay?â But you donât wait for his response before you lay on his chest again with your cheek pressed on his hoodie.
Because the moment just feels right somehow, Jungkook lets his hand wander on your head. Then slowly, he lets his fingers comb through the strands of your hair, tentatively at first, lest you didnât want him touching you or something like that â but once he hears a sound akin to a purr coming from you, he continues and finds himself getting comforted by the action as well.Â
âThe Jae thing really bothered you?â You ask suddenly, not breaking away from the position youâve assumed on top of his body. But your words are slightly slurred in the haze of sleep.
Jungkook hums. âYes.âÂ
âSorry for not telling you myself.âÂ
âItâs okay,â Jungkook reassures you. His gaze falls to the ceiling, hand still caressing your hair. The surface is empty, and thereâs not really much going on. Meanwhile, in your own bedroom, you have those glow in the dark star stickers pasted on your white ceiling. Heâs never slept over there, but he thinks it would be nice to lay under your makeshift galaxy with your homely scent surrounding the two of you. âAre you not gonna ask why I was bothered?â He says after a beat.Â
âI was gonna. But I think I know.â You answer, and Jungkook doesnât expect that one bit.
He stops his ministrations on your hair, and itâs obvious that youâre about to question it when you suddenly peel your face away from his chest again.Â
When you do, Jungkook meets your gaze and with a leveled tone, he asks the question heâs been mulling about for the past two months.
â__, what are we?âÂ
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broken, fine for tonight â sam & dean winchester
cw : gn!winchester!reader, hurt/comfort, some angst, reader's the youngest sibling, injury/pain, nicknames (kid, bud, sweetheart), 1.3K words. requested !
summary : you break your ankle but your older brother's are convinced it's just a sprain and leave to finish up a hunt.
dean sounds all gruff and almost annoyed when he says youâll have to stay in the motel while they take down this nest of vamps. âyouâll be no help with a jacked up ankle,â he grumbles, because itâd be easier with three than two. but his eyes are a little soft as they flick down to your injury and you know itâs just because heâs no good at dealing with being worried about you.
sam comes back from the bathroom, giving you a sympathetic smile as he sets another pair of pain pills on the bedside table next to your half empty plastic water bottle. âyouâre good to take these in half an hour,â he says, âand weâll grab you a proper brace on the way back, alright?â
you give him a tight smile, your breathing measured so it doesnât come across as labored. âsure,â you agree, still fighting against the pain in your foot in order to appear as composed as youâre expected to be. when you twisted it earlier today, sam and dean brushed it off as a sprain and havenât stopped to think otherwise since then.Â
dean had hauled you back up with strong hands and a comforting pat to your back. youâre alright, he insisted, âs just a little sprain, youâve dealt with worse. he wasnât trying to be dismissive, but youâve felt a sprain before, and youâre sure that this is worse.
it must be a pretty bad sprain, sam said with a soft frown when you let out a pained gasp after trying to put just the slightest bit of pressure on it. he looped your other arm around his shoulders, and the two of them practically carried you back to the motel room. they set you down on the bed, and you know that sam normally wouldâve checked your ankle with a bit more precision and care most days, but youâre all pretty sure that the vamps have caught on to you, which means the faster they get into the nest, the better. so he simply propped your foot up on all the spare pillows in the room with gentle hands, cringing each time the movement made you wince in pain. he wrapped it in an ace bandage, and you nearly cried out loud as he did. mind otherwise occupied, heâd just told you the pain would fade soon enough.
you think that somewhere in the back of their minds, both of your brothers know that youâre in enough pain to understand that this is worse than they want it to be. their concern is easy to read, but sometimes they hate the prospect of you being hurt so much that theyâll focus that energy onto a different problem until they have to face this one. so theyâre out the door before you know it.Â
hopefully theyâll give you a longer look when they get back. youâd very much like to go to the hospital to get checked out and hopefully return to the motel with a cast and pair of crutches.
the pain only gets worse and the minutes just drag. time flows so slowly that you start to worry, just like you do every time theyâre off on a hunt without you. if theyâve been gone this long, something mustâve gone wrong, right? you check the time and realize itâs been less than a full hour. the ibuprofen you took a bit ago does nothing to help.Â
your ankle hurts so badly that youâre teary and sniffly and even though no oneâs here to witness it, youâre embarrassed by it nonetheless. but you might as well get the tears out of the way before they come back.
youâre convinced that itâs broken, and by the time the headlights of the impala shine through the half-closed blinds of the motel, youâre in too much of a haze to notice the door unlocking and the boys tramping into the room.
samâs through the door first, and the second he lays eyes on you, he knows somethingâs not quite right. he says your name, soft of course, but still loud enough for you to hear. you donât look over, and he drops his bag on the floor to rush over. dean immediately picks up on the tone of samâs voice, following close behind.
samâs big hand on your forehead rouses you. âhey. you with us sweetheart?â he murmurs, voice quiet and clearly concerned. your eyes flutter open and the only thing you can think to do when you register the worry on his face is give him a rueful smile.
âi think itâs broken,â you mumble, voice quiet and tired. youâre somehow numb and still hurting so much at the same time. dean gives a little scoff, more so out of affection than frustration, and rounds the bed to look at your ankle. you wince when he moves it, this time not bothering to hide just how much it really hurts.
âyou think?â dean repeats back to you, âjesus, kid, why didnât you say something before?â
âyou didnât give me a chance,â you retort, frowning deeply but too tired to actually sound upset. âyou both said it was sprained.â before dean can make some comment about how itâs your ankle, not theirs so how would they know, sam intervenes.
âweâre sorry, bud,â he murmurs, âwe shouldâve paid you more attention.â you donât see the pointed look he gives dean not to argue with you right now, or the way dean puts his hands up in frustration, then softens when he looks back at you. he knows that samâs right, itâs not fair to get all snarky with you. heâs just fueled by worry and he forgets that his worry very easily turns to anger and irritability. deanâs not upset with you at all, but he is at himself for not noticing just how badly you were injured.
the way that he gently carries you to the back seat of the impala is his apology, plus the promise to find your favorite food after you get checked out from the hospital. sam sits in the back with you to keep you steady. steady and held. his hand holds your head softly, his other keeping your leg still as the car rumbles down along the road.
tonight, everything will be fine. your ankle will heal and once properly treated, itâs true that the pain will fade. sure, they wonât pay the medical bills with real credit cards and the doctor might be impressed or concerned, or both, by your pain tolerance. because this certainly isnât the first time youâve been cooped up in the back seat of the impala, hurting and maybe even a little scared while sam holds you and dean drives.
he always steals glances back at you through the rearview mirror, making eye contact with sam to be sure youâre awake and well. but he has to be the one driving because he feels like thatâs the only thing he has control of when youâre like this. he just absolutely horrified by the thought that there might be a dark night on empty roads after a hunt or a nearly world-ending event where his canât drive fast enough. what if, someday, you die in his car and your blood stains the leather, because how could he wipe your blood from the seats like that?
and samâs the one whoâll be holding you, staunching your blood with his jacket, whispering assurances that youâll be alright. heâs terrified by the thought that there might be a night where, in the backseat of this car, the place you all silently call home, youâll die in his arms.
those are the sorts of things they think about. they know that you think about your own nightmares of them dying too. but in this life, the only thing you can do is tuck those thoughts away, somewhere deep and hidden, because tonight, everything will be fine.
#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x sibling!reader#dean winchester x gn!reader#dean winchester x sister!reader#sam winchester x sister!reader#sam winchester x sibling!reader#sam winchester x gn!reader#sam winchester x reader#dean winchester fanfiction#sam winchester fanfiction#dean winchester#sam winchester#supernatural angst#supernatural fluff#supernatural hurt/comfort#sam winchester angst#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester hurt/comfort#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester angst#dean winchester hurt/comfort#dean x reader#sam x reader#spn fanfic#spn dean#spn sam#supernatural dean#supernatural sam
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Feelings
Arcane. Yes. More brain rot as if I didn't have enough already.
Summary: Young!Silco x reader, Silco confesses to a certain extent when reader is drunk and very unlikely to remember the confession
You're a fighter, he knows that well. Those who lived in the underground tended to be such, for survival's sake. You're a survivor, he knows that well. You were still alive after all, and that was the mark of a survivor. So why did his chest tighten every time he saw you do a dangerous thing he knew you'd done a thousand times before? Why did his heart jump to his throat every time he saw you fight?
Why did his stomach flutter every time you looked back at him?
As you downed yet another glass of your favourite drink, the familiar smell wafting from your breath, he feels his throat constrict at the closeness of it all. Your free hand is mere inches away from his own hand, fingers tapping on the wooden counter top of the bar, your shoulder brushing against his. If he concentrates hard enough, he swears he can feel your warmth, then again it might be the chill of the night playing tricks on him. Still, it doesn't take away the fact that you are so close to him, knocking back shot after shot.
"How many?" Vander asks, gesturing towards you.
"Not enough," you slur, shoving the now empty cup towards him.
"Eight," Silco answers without hesitation, reaching over to take the cup away.
"Not enough," you mumble again, clumsily grasping for your cup.
"I think otherwise," Silco frowns, passing the cup to Vander who leaves the two of you alone to start cleaning up the bar. It's about time The Last Drop closes anyways, and Vander knows it's easier for his brother to talk openly to you when he isn't around. Felicia sends Vander a knowing wink and continues pretending to not eavesdrop on the juicy conversation, but fails to hide her growing smile. Vander huffs in amusement and decides to give the two some privacy, grabbing the woman's arm and gently hauling her away, much to her annoyance.
"You've had enough for tonight," Silco sighs, trying to drag you off the stool to which you stubbornly cling.
"Nooooo!" You whine, pouting at him which causes the butterflies in his stomach to go off at an alarming rate. Still, he finds a way to overcome that weakness, if only for a moment, and properly yanks you away. You stumble into him, head smacking into his shoulder and he grunts.
"You're heavy," he grumbles, slinging your left arm over his shoulder.
"I'm not heavy, you're heavy," you cackle, clearly thinking your comeback is very clever. He rolls his eyes, wondering why he even bothers sometimes but then he sees the way your eyes crinkle as you laugh and his heart melts again. He starts to make his way to the spare bed in his and Vander's shared apartment, the route familiar due to the number of times he's hauled your drunk self there. You stumble every now and then, groaning at the headache that's starting to kick in and nearly smack him in the face for some unknown reason but Silco still gets you to your destination, dropping you unceremoniously on the bed.
"Don't move," he says sternly, going to the wardrobe to take a fresh set of clothes for you.
"Hehe." He can hear you giggle, and from the way your giggles start to become muffled, he's pretty sure you've gone ahead and moved anyways. He sighs, shaking his head and turns around with your clothes draped over his arm to find that you've started rolling around on the bed. It's amusing, to see you drunkenly try to wrap yourself in the blanket as you roll about but then that feeling quickly gets replaced by fear when you roll off the bed and hit the floor with a yelp of pain.
He rushes over immediately, your clothes haphazardly thrown onto the bed and unwraps you from your blanket tangle, checking you over for any injuries. Fortunately, there's none aside from a bruise that is sure to form on your forehead where the floor had come up to meet it, and Silco is relieved. Not that he would ever tell you that, of course.
He helps you back onto the bed, listening as you whine about how your head hurts even more now and holds himself from flicking you in the forehead. Right now, he needs to ensure you don't throw up all over yourself and that you wake up tomorrow with as little issue as possible. Luckily, tonight you've decided to be cooperative, so it doesn't take long for Silco to change you into your new set of clothes and get you to lie down on the bed without rolling around.
"M sorry."
"For?"
"Everything."
"Everything?" He frowns, trying to recall a reason for you to be like this. You take it the wrong way and curl into a ball, shying away from him. He reaches out but you pull away, shaking your head.
"You always have to clean up after me," you mumble sadly. "I'm such a burden."
"Don't you dare say that about yourself!" Silco snaps, and immediately regrets it as you skitter as far away from him as the bed allows. He takes a deep breath, pushing the anger he feels at himself for not noticing your feelings earlier and centers himself. He has to rectify this mistake, make you see yourself the way he sees you, if only so that he can see a smile on your face again tonight.
"You're not a burden," he says, gently taking your hand.
"As if," you mutter, but don't let go of his hand.
"I mean it. I clean up after you because I â" The words get lodged in his throat. He swallows, and tries again. "I â I care for you."
There. It's out now. The reason why he always steals glances at you, the reason why he's always chiding you, the reason why he gets all worried whenever you throw yourself into danger without a care in the world.
Nobody cares if we live or die, you had said before, we're but specks of dust to Piltover, lost to the wind forever if we die and insignificant if we live.
But we are not. We're just as human as they are, he'd replied.
And that's why there's that dream of Zaun, isn't it? Your smile had lit the murky grey of the underground up. A toast, to a Zaun reality.
A toast. That was the first time he had seen you drunk, and you'd nearly fallen into the waters below. Silco had caught you just in time, staring into the depths of your eyes and saw the fire that burned behind them despite how drunk you were.
"You're special to me, in a different way from Felicia and Vander." He knows you won't remember this conversation, and that brings him a small comfort, even if there's a part of him that wants you to remember it. You look up at him, taking in the way his gaze softens, feel his hand give yours a squeeze, and feel a fuzzy feeling in your chest that's definitely not from the alcohol.
"Special," you echo. He gives you a nod, silent but encouraging. You squeeze his hand back, liking the way the word rolls off your tongue, but you like the way his name rolls off your tongue better.
"Silco," you say, unsure of what to follow the word up with. He raises an eyebrow, and huffs with amusement when he sees the way you struggle to keep your eyes open. The alcohol is catching up with you, it's only a matter of time before you knock out and this night will be lost to the wind.
"Stay, please." You whisper, feeling sleep tugging at your body.
"Always." It's a promise not just for tonight, but for the rest of your lives, whether you know it or not.
Always.
#arcane#arcane s2#arcane silco#young silco#silco x reader#young silco x reader#fluff with a little angst#ironic how i was listening to the most pumped arcane s2 songs while writing this#silco
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friction
(8x08 spec) (buddie adjacent) (510 words) so, uh, remember that friction between buck and eddie that got mentioned a little while back? after that promo, i have some spec. mild spoilers for said promo, and therefore the episode
ââand heâs got friends and chess club and I justâwhat if he never comes back?â Eddie asks. His voice breaks, and Buckâ
He wishes, not for the first time, that he knew how to do that thing Eddie always does. How to string together a few words into something that feels like forgiveness and hope and support. He doesnât, though. He never has.
 âEddie,â Buck says instead, hoping he might hear it anyway.
âAnd my parents!â he continues. âTheyâre not even pretending likeââ Eddieâs lips twist and his gaze falls to the floor. His fingers scratch at the label of the beer he hasnât even started drinking.
âYouâyou said you were done punishing yourself, right?â The question falls from Buckâs lips without his permission.
Eddie lets out a mirthless laugh. âWhat, you think I should just go dancing, forget that my kid never wants to see me again?â
Buck suppresses a sigh. âThatâs not what Iâm saying,â he replies.
âThen what are you saying?â Eddie asks bitterly.
Theyâve had this conversation. Theyâve had this conversation a hundred times, and Buckâs always been afraid of overstepping, but fuck it, heâs halfway there already and Eddie needs to hear it. And BuckâBuck thinks he maybe needs to say it.
He takes a breath. âDoes he even know you want him to come back?â
âWhat? Of course he does!â
âHave you asked him to?â It comes out creaky and vulnerable in a way Buck doesnât mean it to, butâ
He knows that awful feeling, the one where no matter how much evidence you have to the contrary, youâre sure no one wants you around. Not unless they say it. And Christopher, heâs about a million times better adjusted than Buck ever was at his age, but heâs still a kid. Maybe Buckâs right, maybe heâs wrong, but if it was him? Heâd need to hear it.
âIââ Eddie opens and closes his mouth.
âI know youâre doing what you think you have to, but Eddie, I think youâre hurting yourself and Chris,â Buck continues. âIf this isnât you punishing yourself, why arenât you fighting for him?â
Eddie takes a stumbling step back, like heâs been slapped. âYou think Iâm not fighting for him?â He asked, wrecked and barely above a whisper.
âTell me Iâm wrong,â Buck pleads. âTell meâI donât know, tell me youâve asked him when he wants to come home, orâor, god, Eddie, told him how much you miss him.â
A muscle in Eddieâs jaw works. âIâm not going to force himââ
âIâm not asking you to!â Buck says, louder than he means to. âBut if thereâs something you havenât said to himâthen he doesnât know.â
âYou know what?â Eddie asks. He sets his bottle down on Buckâs counter with a heavy thunk. âFuck you.â
He turns his back and slams the door behind him when he leaves, and for a split second, Buck finds himself thinking about his breakup with Tommy. He shakes his head, and hopes it was worth it.
#didn't think i'd be writing actual spec for this one at all but here we are lmao#11th hour my beloved#911fic#buddiefic#911 fic#buddie fic#911#911 spoilers#buddie#fic#abbie writes
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Sabotage || chapter one
pairing: Charles x reader x Max (based on votes, but I might post another poll to confirm after a few chapters)
summary: You have a new boyfriend, and after it becomes clear attending race weekends isnât so important to you anymore, your best friend and your âitâs complicatedâ person join forces to sabotage your relationship.
âŚ
Rolling your eyes, you pick up a pillow and try to playfully hit your friend with it, but your effort is futile, because he catches it with ease, then tosses it on the floor next to the bed. Heâs shamelessly laughing at you, but then he turns on his stomach and buries his face into the space between your shoulder and his pillow.
Youâve been stuck together like glue for over a decade, spending an unhealthy amount of time together, so the fact youâre lying in bed next to each other doesnât mean much to either of you. Heâs your best friend and nothing more, no matter what the press and fans say.
Just when you think he drifted back to sleep, a muffled voice cuts through the silence of the room. âDid you say something?â you ask with a laugh as you tussle his already messy hair.
A groan follows your words, and he lifts his head a little. âI said, Iâm starving,â he repeats, this time letting you hear him loud and clear.
A small smile creeps on your lips as you watch him, taking a good look at those green eyes that are blinking drowsily at you. Heâs hungover, so this means he needs his usual breakfast to get through the morning, and youâre more than happy to make it for him as usual. When the roles are reversed and itâs you who needs it, he does the same for you, so you donât hesitate to push the blanket to the side and slip out of bed.
Well, you try to get out of bed, because Charles quickly wraps an arm around you to keep you in place. He digs his thumb into the plush flesh of your hips as his hand moves a little lower on your body. The look he gives you makes it clear heâs not gonna let you get away from him anytime soon despite the hunger that makes his stomach growl.
As soon as you cover yourself again with the blanket, he lets his head fall back on the pillow, being close enough to place a kiss on your shoulder before letting out a soft sigh of relief. Winning his home grand prix must have been one hell of a high, coming down from that and trying to sober up after the party the night before must be quite a challenge for today.
His breathing soon changes, it becomes slower, more even, and you think it might be time to go back to sleep yourself to recharge your batteries enough to function today. Just when you reach the edge of sleep, though, you hear your friend mutter something again, and he only repeats it a little louder when you let out a questioning hum.
âIâm gonna ask Arthur to bring us breakfast. He has nothing better to do today and he has a key,â he tells you the plan, earning a disapproving sigh from you. âWhat? Heâs my little brother, this is the least he can do.â
Thereâs an edge to his rough, raspy voice that gives the statement the kind of finality you just canât fight against. So you nod and close your eyes again, focusing on the sounds of him moving to get his phone and type a message to his brother. Once heâs done, he lies on his back and lets out a long sigh.
âI asked him to go to that little bistro where we eat and told him to ask for our usual, if thatâs okay,â he says.
You open your eyes a little to look at him, a smile already playing on your lips as you turn on your side. âThatâs quite a detour for him,â you note.
Charles lets out a huff. âI told him to bring himself something too so we can eat together,â he tells you, then he turns to you with that usual, boyish smile of his. âI transferred more than enough money, so yeah, he gets a little extra for the delivery and a hefty tip.â
After a nod, you prop on your elbow and watch him without saying a word. He hums to urge you to speak up, but before you could talk, your phone on the nightstand starts to ring. When you look at the screen, you canât fight back the wide grin that wants to creep on your face, and it doesnât go unnoticed by your friend.
âI need to take this,â you tell him, sort of as an apology for crawling out of bed to leave the room.
To be honest, you didnât expect him to call. The whole time you thought the buzzing environment of the paddock made him say those things, but here you are, seeing his name flash on the screen so soon after race day. Shane is handsome, and nice, and heâs as far from the world of motorsports as possible.
A breath of fresh air, really.
Heâs a fashion photographer, and he only attended the grand prix because he had to take some photos of Lewis and George, so the team thought it would be nice to give him a pass for the weekend. There he bumped into you, started a conversation, sat down for lunch with you, then asked for your number before going home. And now he wants a date, much to your surprise.
When he suggests meeting in New Zealand, you begin to talk about his new gig there, and you get so lost in the conversation that you only notice Arthur when he puts the boxes next to you in the kitchen with a wide grin on his face. It doesnât seem to bother him that youâre on the phone with someone, because he kisses you on the cheek, then waits for you to tell him where his brother can be found.
Several minutes later you hear Charles ask âwhatâ in the other room, which is followed by the sound of someone running towards you. You watch as he skids into the kitchen, then he takes the phone from your hand and holds up a finger to stop you from talking. Arthur massages the bridge of his nose in the background, while youâre trying to process what just happened.
âAre you really ditching her for some model? Come on, dude, I thought weââ Suddenly he stops talking and his eyes widen from surprise. âOh, who am I speaking to?â
You watch as he tries to explain himself, looking embarrassed as he should be, and you occasionally glance over at Arthur who can barely hold back his emotions. Once your friend hands you the phone with a guilty expression on his face, you canât help but feel sorry for him, especially after his little brother starts to point a finger at him as he erupts in laughter.
After saying goodbye to Shane, you end the call and watch as Charles gives his brother a disapproving look before playfully slapping his arm. âThatâs not funny, I thought she was talking to Max again,â he says.
Here you go again. âEven if I was talking to him, it would be none of your business,â you warn him with an angry look in your eyes.
Youâve been over this so many times during your entire friendship, but he still feels like he has to protect you from him, as if Max is some vicious predator that wants to eat you alive. The two of you occasionally try to make this work between you, but more often than not it remains a friends with benefits setup. It seems like neither of you is ready to be in a committed relationship.
Your brother once hinted at the Dutchmanâs annoyance whenever it came to your close friendship with his rival. For some reason he sees Charles as a threat, not only on the track, but in your relationship too. And given his friendship with your brother, you get these comments about your friend from two people, which makes it even more annoying.
And now you have to deal with the Monegasqueâs overprotective personality too, which tells you this breakfast wonât be accompanied by carefree conversations between the three of you. You know you have to tell him that there is someone new in your life, and can only hope he will be a little relieved that itâs not who he thought it was.
While Arthur sits on a barstool next to the kitchen island, you and Charles bring some plates and silverware for the food, and you three dig in without hesitation. Even though your focus is on Arthur whoâs talking about the party the night before, you can still feel your best friendâs eyes on you, burning a hole into your skull as he watches you.
âSo whoâs the guy?â he suddenly asks. You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. âYou never told me youâre seeing someone.â
Letting out a sigh, you put down the fork and lean back a little. âI only met him on Saturday. This was the first time he called, thereâs nothing to tell yet,â you reply, giving him a look that says enough of the questions.
âYet? You mean youâll meet him?â he wonders, completely ignoring your silent request.
âAnd what if I will?â
Out of the corner of your eye you can see the way Arthur winces and slips off the chair with his orange juice in hand, then moves to the living room to give you some space to talk. You and Charles only stare at each other for a while, both of you waiting for the other to say something, but deep down you know itâs him who has some explaining to do.
Since he doesnât speak up, you return your attention to your breakfast and take a bite with your eyes still fixed on your friend. In the end, he lets out a sigh and reaches out to put a hand on your wrist. âLook, Iâm just worried, okay? You barely know the guy,â he tells you.
Rolling your eyes at him, you end up shaking your head. âMeeting him will help me get to know him. In case youâve forgotten, this is how dating works.â He licks his lips, a nervous expression visible on his face as he picks at his own food with the fork. You have no idea what could possibly be wrong with him, but you feel like telling him the facts and nothing more could be helpful. âWeâll have a few days for that next weekend in New Zealand.â
This catches his attention, because he looks back up at you. âBut thatâs the next race weekend,â he says, sounding surprised that you dared to plan something for the same time. When you give him a questioning look, he takes a deep breath. âYouâve never missed a race, I just⌠I donât know. It would be weird to be there without you,â he replies.
âYou canât expect me to put my life on hold because you want me to be there at every race weekend. I gave up enough already, Iâm not gonna waste more chances. I like this guy.â
âDoes he have a name?â
Your eyes narrow because you know exactly what this is about. âYou want to do some research,â you state with an annoyed sigh.
Charles shrugs, and you canât help but roll your eyes before giving him the guyâs name, although he doesnât seem to recognize it, so you explain what he does for a living. Those mesmerizing green eyes of his are mirroring the concentration he needs to remember every detail, and you canât help but wonder why he finds this so interesting.
After all, you never say a word about his girlfriends, you never pry for more information, you just go with the flow and let him have his fun. Itâs usually Max whoâs more interested in who youâre dating, but even he restrains himself before he would interfere. At least the two of you have history, thereâs a logical explanation for his reaction.
But this? Now, this you canât put a finger on.
âGuys, we have a problem,â you hear Arthurâs voice before he appears in the kitchen, his phone held up. You exchange a confused look with Charles, then your eyes move to his little brother. âMom wants me to have dinner with her.â
âWhyâs that a problem?â Charles asks.
After a gulp, Arthur clears his throat and sits back on the barstool he previously occupied. âUm, well, she might have found out about my girlfriend, and now she wants to meet her,â he replies with an awkward smile.
His brother flashes a wide grin at him. âWhy didnât you tell me about her? What is she like? And whatâs her name? Where did you even meet her?â
Shaking your head with a laugh, you reach out to take his hand and squeeze it gently. âI guess this is exactly why he didnât say a word. No one needs the Spanish Inquisition.â When Charles opens his mouth to protest, you give him a warning look. âThis is exactly what you did with me just a few minutes ago. Give him the chance to decide when heâs ready to talk about her.â
Arthur flashes a thankful smile at you, then takes a deep breath and begins to tell you about the girl. He really likes her, and this big, stupid smile on his face tells you that he really just wanted to protect her from this madness. When you look over at Charles, you notice how his expression softened, and in the end he assures his brother that he will talk to their mother and ask her to be patient.
Maybe thereâs still hope for him after all.
#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1#formula 1
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Writerâs Block
18+
In which Homelander thoroughly enjoys a quiet night in, his hand, and some ao3.
CW: Selfcest adjacent, Anal play, Masturbation,
âHis hand wraps firmly around your throat as he bends you over your desk with a low groan. The hard bulge in his costume grinds against your ass and each filthy thrust causes your hips to bump painfully against the wooden edge. The various knick knacks and office supplies decorating your space rattle with the movement. His hot breath causes you to moan as he whispers into your ear.
âI can do whatever the fuck I want.â
Homelander groans low in his throat as he strokes his cock languidly. The leather of the couch that was cool at first is now growing warm from the heat of his body. His cock twitches in his hand and a drop of precum drips down his knuckles onto the cushion. Heâs taking it slow tonight. He intends to draw out his pleasure now that he finally has the entire space to himself for the night.
Now that he has a son to raise, heâs had to stop being so bold about where and when he decides to take a load off and relax. Luckily he was able to pawn Ryan off on Victoria and Zoe for a sleepover. Vicky wasnât happy about the surprise but he isnât sure why. His son is a fucking delight. He plans to make the most of his free time as he reclines lazily and uses the remote in his free hand to scroll through the fanfiction on the screen.
He had found the stories maudlin and pathetic at first when he first stumbled onto the online community dedicated to writing about him. They made him laugh at how desperate and pathetic they were. Even the ego boost wasnât enough to erase the disdain towards the nobodies of the world who deigned to think that he would ever want to fuck them. Heâs so pristine in the stories. A white knight handsome savior to sweep them away from their problems. If only they knew the real him and not the puppet Vought made him into.
But that was when he had Stormfront on his arm. A perfect goddess to chase away the pangs of loneliness and who any ordinary mud person would pale in comparison to. When he lost her, he began to see the value in such pathetic fantasies. As he lost more and more control over his surroundings, it was comforting to disappear into this place where the world still revolved around him and he could see proof of devotion that wasnât just the steadily dropping points tacked to his name.
People still wanted him.
And sure, things might be looking up for him now. Heâs head of Vought and he finally has his beloved son by his side. He has an army of mindless fans ready to fight for him. But his bed is still cold and a man has needs. Thereâs an earnest quality to the writing that scratches an itch that isnât satisfied by the subpar porn Vought churns out. This is personal.
He grips his cock a little firmer and he twitches as he runs his thumb over his sensitive slit. He continues to read.
âHe can smell your arousal. It coats the back of his throat and he can taste it on the roof of his mouth.â
Homelander unconsciously licks his lips. Itâs not hard for him to conjure up the smell of sex in his mind. His own pleasure is already heady in his own nose. He whines and brings two fingers up to his lips and sucks. The salty tang of his own slick is filthy and his whole body throbs. His hipbones ache as he imagines what it would be like to be bent over, to lose himself to pleasure completely, to have all the worries and concerns knocked out of his brain. He can understand why this fantasy would appeal to someone so insignificant as the author. Itâs not a perspective that he would normally ever indulge in but thereâs something so tempting about it.
âYou struggle to catch your breath and muster any kind of defense as he continues to take up more of your space. One hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, cutting off your airflow even further. He can hear you clench around nothing and a smug smile spreads across his face.â
Still sucking on his fingers, his other hand drops the remote and wraps itself around his neck. He presses down cautiously and the restriction of his own airflow causes a wave of heat to flow through his veins. He bucks up into nothing with a low grunt.
âHe presses hot and hungry kisses against your jaw as his free hand grabs the waistband of your work trousers and tugs. The fabric rips easily and you canât even gasp in surprise as his fingers delve under your underwear to press against your hole.â
Homelander follows suit, taking his spit slick fingers out of his mouth and reaching down to tease around his rim. He gasps, sensitive. Heâs no stranger to touching himself here but itâs like a shock every time just how nice it feels. He wonders what the inbred brain dead hicks who worship him would think if they knew their fearless hero liked a little ass play. Would they still grovel? Would they keep him on his pedestal? He laughs bitterly at the irony of his power over people still being reliant on fitting into the narrow insipid boxes they feel like putting him in. He has everything heâs always wanted but heâs still fucking trapped.
Tears prick at his eyes. Heâd started this just wanting to feel good but now his stomach is uneasy and his erection is already starting to flag. Even alone, he canât escape peopleâs expectations of him. He removes the hand from his throat and wipes at his eyes, self loathing building tight in his chest at how pathetic he is. He canât even get himself off properly and now heâs crying over it. He grabs the remote and goes to turn off the screen in self pity but his eyes catch the next words.
âTears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the situation. Everything is happening so fast and so much.
âShhhhhâ He whispers in your ear. âYou might as well just let it happen. Let yourself feel good. Itâs not like you have a choice.â
âItâs not like you have a choice.â
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He can hear his own voice echoing in his head. Itâs familiar and he follows where it leads. He brushes reality aside as he allows himself to sink back into the fantasy. He thinks about the ache in his hipbones and a body pressing him down and forcing him to relax. He puts his hand back on his throat, this time pressing harder until it borders on the hint of pain as his head swims. Idly he wonders where this written version of himself came from. How one measly author amidst the rush of saccharine romances managed to capture this raw real side of him.
He opens his eyes and squints so the world is a little fuzzy. The words on the screen blur but are still readable and as long as he has those he can block anything else out.
âYour body goes limp against the desk, becoming little more than a doll for him to play with. He dips his fingers into you, stretching you just enough to make you gasp before pulling back. Heâs gentle but inescapable and thereâs nothing that you can do except succumb to his touches. You moan pathetically as he finally takes pity on you, two deft fingers finally pressing in fully as they twist and curl until they find the spot that makes your legs tremble and shake.â
He whimpers as his fingers delve inside. Itâs been a while since heâs had the opportunity to do this and heâs tight. He huffs and he can feel the bobbing of his adamâs apple against his hand. He canât move yet as he focuses on relaxing his muscles until heâs no longer at risk of pushing his fingers right back out. The stretch feels good and his cock quickly swells back to its previous hardness. Heâs torn between reaching down to stroke himself or staying put and following along with the whims of the story. He crooks his fingers slightly and a strangled yelp leaves his lips as lightning shoots up and down his spine.
âTouch yourself.â Homelander instructs as he continues to scissor his fingers and stretch you out properly. âCâmon, donât make me do all the work.â
Homelander wastes no time. Heâs eager now that he has permission. He wishes that there was a way to keep the pressure on his neck but heâll have to think of something for next time. His cock throbs under his palm as he begins to stroke himself. The room fills with eager wet sounds and it allows him to sink deeper into the fantasy. He reads on, eager to know what heâll do next. It baffles him why anyone would want to leave him now that he knows how good being with him feels.
Heâd had an opportunity before, with Doppelganger. But it was wrong. It wasnât him. It was just a pathetic needy imitation. So ready to please that it reeked of desperation. Heâd seen something in âhisâ face that day that turned his stomach. Heâd needed it gone.
This is different. This fictional version of him is perfect, strong, determined, and willing to just take what he wants. Heâs perfect, like marble.
Homelander moans echo through the penthouse, filling up all the open space and desecrating the ears of the founding fathers. He has no need to be shy now that he has the place to himself again for the night. His cock is leaking all over his hand and dripping down onto the leather. The wet sloppy sounds of him working himself over are practically deafening to his sensitive hearing.
âThatâs it, Sweetheart. Doesnât it feel good to take some initiative. Itâs a good thing the rest of the tower doesnât have my hearing.â He goes quiet for a moment, allowing the sloppy sounds to echo through the empty room. âYou would not believe some of the things Iâve heard go on around here. For example, do you remember fucking yourself in the bathroom after I surprised you in the elevator the other day?â
A wave of shame and panic floods through you as the memory of the elevator comes back to you. You were too flustered to say anything then. You had been surprised that he would bother with an elevator at all. The masculine vetiver scent of his cologne was subtle but in the confined space it seemed almost suffocating. You hadnât said anything and he didnât bother to even acknowledge your presence. He didnât even look your way. Still, the strange intensity of the encounter had you running into the empty bathroom to relieve some stress. You wouldnât have been able to concentrate otherwise.
âNothing? I could practically smell you during my meeting. I could definitely hear you rubbing away.â He leans down to nip at your ear.â
Homelander briefly lets go of his cock to massage his balls, groaning loudly. He wants to prolong this but he can feel himself reaching the end of his rope. His abdomen is sore from the clenching of his muscles and he can feel his heartbeat in every fiber of his body. His lungs canât seem to get enough air as he gasps at the wave of arousal.
Something prickles at the back of his brain. The story ignites some synapse that sparks an unimportant memory. Itâs not enough to draw him out of his fantasy but somewhere in his hindbrain he logs it.
He imagines someone hearing him right now and his cock twitches. He gives a comforting squeeze as he wiggles the fingers inside himself again.
Fuck
âThe combination of his filthy words along with your eager rubbing has you coming undone before he even fucks you. You feel truly visible for the first time.. Homelander saw that embarrassing needy part of you and he wanted it. He tracked you down once the rest of the crime analytics team had left and bent you right over your desk.
âThere you go. Doesnât it feel better to come on my fingers instead of your own?â
FUCK
Homelanderâs vision goes red and hot as his fingers hit the spot inside him juuuuuust right. He tenses, entire body locking up, balls tightening, toes curling against the floor. He hangs weightless for a single moment before the storm of pleasure hits like a tidal wave. Hot ropes of come splatter all over his thighs and chest as he frantically strokes himself, milking himself of every last drop of pleasure. He bears down on his hand as he rides himself through it. He can hear his own voice ringing in his ears, the perfect voice of his best self.
âDoesnât it feel better to come on my fingers instead of your own?â
In his mind heâs bent over the desk with a warm body against his back. His hips are sore but his muscles are pleasantly relaxed for once. He feels safe and protected. A strong hand grips his hip to hold him steady as the other Homelander removes his fingers with a soft wet noise.
He slumps into the leather, pleasantly sated.
Once heâs regained his senses a bit, he reaches for the remote and clicks off the tv. Heâll have to remember to finish the entire fic later when his cock has recovered a bit. The black screen reflects his face and Homelander is surprised to see the pleasure drunk smile on his face. He canât remember the last time he smiled like this. Probably not since⌠He quickly shakes his head and shoves all thought of her from his brain. He doesnât need anyone else to get off. Heâs just fine on his own.
The little brain worm from earlier returns now that the room is quiet and distractions are gone. His mind still itches. Homelander clicks the tv back on and scrolls back up with a frown.
Crime analytics?
Most of the fics he reads are mindlessly generic. Most depict a banal office atmosphere when the setting takes place at Vought tower. Itâs very easy for him to tell when the author is an outsider. Name dropping a specific department is new. Not to mention, the way the office was described in the beginning was eerily similar to the large room where the crime department is locatedâŚeerily similar.
Homelanderâs heart pounds as he puts together the pieces. The author works at Vought and he knows in which department. The author has likely crossed paths with him. In fact, Homelanderâs stomach tightens as he skims the fic, the author has probably shared an elevator with him.
He checks the upload date.
One week agoâŚ
The unimportant memory floods back.
One week ago, heâd frightened a mousy crime analyst when heâd stopped the elevator for a ride. The little analyst never even looked directly at him. It was typical and not even worth the effort to get annoyed by. The sound of a fluttering heart and the scent of adrenaline were common occurrences no matter where he went. The moment he exited was the moment heâd already begun to forget.
Homelander sighs contentedly as he closes his eyes and lets himself bask in the afterglow. Curiosity sated, he lets his mind wander. Maybe heâll surprise his little writer tomorrow and let them properly enjoy the fantasy this time. Itâs the least he can do.
He reaches down and touches his hip, the phantom soreness still lingering.
After all, he knows just how good it feels to be fucked by him.
#homelander discovers x reader fic#he reacts a little differently than you might expect#homelander#x reader#Homelander fanfiction#just a dude getting himself off#left the end open in case I wanna do a follow up
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THE WONDER YEARS
single dad vander x kindergarten teacher reader (feat. the kids)
the first weeks of school are hard on everyone; teachers and single dads especially...
It's raining today.
A dewy, spring rain comes down to paint the world in it's base earth tones. Permeating outside and through cracks of every window in erroding Cerimon is the smell of petrichor and in one particular room - jasmine. While the rain can be hauntingly beauiful in the way light manages to cast itself from the blinking streetlights outside of Cerimon Elementary, it's presence in an already damp city makes things all the more gloomy for you.
It's the second week of school and one of the smallest girls in class has been grouped into a fight. Deaglan, or Deckard as the boy goes by, a second grade boy has been showing his colors early in the school year by picking on those older and younger than him at recess.
One of those students being Powder. Her actual name on the roster is inked out in a black line and in white letters in Times New Roman is Powder. She's one of the smallest in your class that hasn't quite settled in yet and one of the brightest.
She sits in a bean bag chair in the far corner of the room drawing in a composition notebook and occasionally looking up at the window. You've found that she's not actually looking outside when she's doing that, but instead observing you. She's a little behind in the cirriculum, but she's easily proving herself to be a hidden gem in her classes.
A different student, a boy even smaller than Powder glares all the time. Recycled through two teachers in the first week of school and you're the last straw if he "acts out". Beyond what other teachers say, he surveys book spines and never picks one up. He doesn't like speaking in class, but he never misbehaves outside of someone else picking on him.
Ekko. Always leaving an imprint in your memory, he's true to his name. A dark-skinned boy with brighter hair than Powder's. Ekko was the brunt of Deckard's terrorizing today and retaliated to the second grader's antics by tackling him to the concrete.
Powder happened to be nearby when this occured and began throwing rocks at the two until she was close enough to fully throwing herself at Deckard. It might be why Ekko hasn't stopped staring at her from his usual nook in among the beanbags near the Reading Tree, but you're not sure.
The sigh that leaves you when your eyes drift back to the window is heavy. It's only the second week of school and it's raining.
A knock pulls you from your desk and outside the rectangle window of the door is two boys. Unkept as most wild Cerimon kids are after school, but these two have scrapes and dirt patches on their clothes from jumping into the fray with Powder and Ekko earlier.
Your brows furrow in concern because the scrapes are still dark with dirt and they haven't been picked up from school yet. Most kids are picked up by their parents from school while others walk home.
"What are you two doing here? School ended almost an hour ago." Despite your concern, their open faces harden into glares. The sudden change has you wary and you tighten your grip on the door when you hear;
"Powder is here."
You raise your brows and lean on the doorway. They don't address her as 'snotface' or 'screw up' or the other questionable expletives they know. It's not the best sign, but you're not sure what to make of it.
"Powder is going home soon." You say, still blocking the doorway. You don't bother asking them how they know her because you don't want to hear another we're friends today. Too many kids come by trying to pick on your students. "Only my students are allowed in my room."
The skinnier boy sucks his teeth, more displeased than the other, and folds his arms. "Just let us in the shitty room."
"Not with that attitude." you sass.
He kicks the door and the toe of one of your flats gets caught underneath the door. You hiss underneath your breathand catch the door handle to keep it from working up the rest of your toe. You vaguely catch sight of the same boy wincing stiffly before they both go running down the hallway.
You don't yell after them. Just shut the door and avoid putting pressure on your toe as you walk over to the desk.
Instead you sit down and pull a first aid kit from underneath your desk. You don't get to kick off the flat when you hear a quiet voice.
"Did that hurt real bad?"
You jump a little from the voice's proximity. In one of the first rows, to your surprise, Ekko is crouched under a desk and he's squinting. Not glaring. The sight of him not glaring at you melts your heart despite the still sour look on his face.
You offer a bit of a smile and shake your head. "It doesn't hurt real bad. Thank you, Ekko."
He turns his head quickly and crawls underneath desks and chairs back to his book nook. You shake your head at his insistence to crawl underneath desks and chairs back to his corner instead of walking through a clear aisle.
You can feel Powder watching you, but you don't look. It's better to let her observe you than wear off her curosity. You doubt she has a shortage of it, but better to be safe than sorry and have her never want to learn in class.
A light knock on the door beckons you. You haul yourself up and test the capabilities of your toe when you walk (limp) over and open the door.
Standing before you is a girl with pink hair. You're confident that you've never seen her in your life, but she's glaring like she's seen you before. She can't be older than a third grader and her hair is an bold pink. Uneven in places like Powder and she's unkempt and scraped up like she's been in a fight herself.
"Powder's my sister." Is all she says and you notice a few feet away are the boys you saw earlier, sitting in the hallway and already looking this way.
Before you can get a word out there's a tug on the door and Powder is trying to squirm her way through. The pink haired girl softens immediately and grabs the hand almost as small as hers and you step aside to open the door wider to allow the two to hug.
"Vi." Powder sighs and wraps her arms around the girl. She hugs her tightly and buries her fingers in the uniform shirt of the older girl.
Four kids in your hallway and it's almost an hour after all classes have been dismissed. You beckon them all into the classroom, the four huddle by the table where Powder is. You get their names after they come in and find they're all siblings.
Powder, Violet, Mylo, and Claggor. Ekko leaves the sanctuary of his corner, bringing his beanbag into the corner a few feet by your desk when Mylo breaches Ekko's space by peering over a bookshelf to look at him. Ekko faces the wall and and keeps his book close.
Mylo scoffs, smirking. "Weirdo."
"Don't call him weird." You say sharply and all the kids look at you. Softer you say, "this is a safe place for everyone and we don't swear or bully here."
Mylo becomes tight-lipped and squints at you, kicking the desk Powder is drawing on before plopping down in a bean bag.
"Don't tell him what to do." Violet snaps and you hold her fierce gaze.
"If you don't want to listen to the rules, I can send you to the front office until your parents get here. Powder is comfortable with you here, but if you're all going to be a problem, you can all go to the Principal's office."
They all tense.
You don't like bringing up the Principal's office. It's a cheap trick to get students to listen, but your patience is wearing thin because you're here longer than you thought you'd be today. And it's raining.
Powder tugs Vi's arm and you watch them visibly settle down.
You get up and the kids in the room all watch you with rapt attention as you go to the bulky metal cabinets by the door. They creak in protest when you try to open them, but a swift tug opens them. You pull out a handful of fruit snacks and your other hand holds up a mini water bottle.
"I have snacks for the kids who let me give them band-aids."
All of them, even a hesitant Vi lets you clean and apply a puppy print band-aids to her scrapes and scratches. By the time, they're settled and patched up you're being visited, again. The metal door closer creaks loudly from being opened so harshly and your breath catches when a silhouette fills the door frame.
A terribly wet boot squelches when it stains the letter 'A' on the alphabet carpet and your face screws up at the sight. Quickly, you move in front of the door as a shoulder comes to light and a shaggy head of black hair follows, dripping wet with rain and the large man who completely barricades the door with his body. You reach for one of the books set on the desk nearest to you and the man scoffs. You would too if you were him. He's twice your size and the children's book in your hand will do little to keep him from wreaking havoc.
And still you brace yourself.
"Are you going to beat me with Juniper Johnson book?"
"Junie B. Jones," you correct.
You'd kick yourself for your choice of words, but you're shaking too heavily to be thinking about anything else but the kids behind you.
Violet yells loudly and unintelligibly, running toward this man and you're only able to catch three of the four kids in your classroom by putting your body between them and the large man. Violet manage to get through you by rolling between your legs and vaulting herself at his waist, but she animated flops against his front like a cartoon charactor on a brick wall.
He kneels and brings an arm around her, "Hey, Vi." he practically purrs with a smile, kissing her head and the normally very hardened eight year old animatedly smiles up at him and tells him about the fight Powder got into.
His nails are painted a baby blue in correspondence to the small girl who's smiling from behind your legs.
Their dad.
This is-
"Care to let my kids go?" the stranger glares over his daughter's shoulders and you recoil back.
#vander x reader#the arcane x reader#the arcane x you#the arcane x y/n#the arcane vander#arcane milo#arcane claggor#arcane vi#arcane jinx#arcane powder#arcane ekko#vander and his kids#modern!arcane#modern vander#ive been hanging onto this#will probably finish it but you know#i want to see how it takes to people#older!vander x younger!reader#readers probably like twenty five#anyway enjoy the read#vander x you#vander x y/n#i have not proofread
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Potential script idea for billy batson s radio show segment
The whizz radio intro tones-
Billy Batson then starts speaking through a slightly crackly radio as Fawcett is a city someone lost to time, given its connection to the Rock of Eternity.
---
Welcome to WHIZZ Radio: where we give the latest news, truths, and view in Fawcett City. Brought to you by your host, me, billy Batson.
Starting off with community news, make sure to visit the shrine of Atlas sometime this week with an offering. Cap mentioned that there might be a need for endurance next week, and we should all probably listen. Additional reminder, the festival of Zeus will be happening this Saturday. Stay away from odd looking geese, metal poles and don't fulfill any selfcrearting proficies in a fit of hubris.
Onto traffic!
Main Street and Fifth Avenue are both still under construction from Dr. Sivannas attack and the demon portal last Thursday and Friday. Ms. Marvel and Cap. both played a role in clearing the debris, but there are still major cracks and fissures to Hades. Expect delays.
Now the weather.
Today's forecast includes thick over cast clouds; a good time for summoning souls. Be sure to greet both the living in the dead while going about your day and don't for get that umbrella! There is a slight chance of curses with intermittent showers.
Alright! Time to quickly cover the Capes and Crooks news bulletin. Dr. Sivanna is still missing after his recent bout with Cap. Since he interrupted one of Mercury's races down at the track, no one is quite sure when the Roman god took him. If you happen to see him, please be sure to give Cap a ring to come pick him up.
Keep your eyes peeled for Mr. Mind. The worm escaped prison⌠again. Holy moly. You'd think they'd make better prisons for him. What is this, the fourth time in two weeks?
*Noise indistinct*
I know, I just figured that out listeners would likely have the same comment. I don't see why I shouldn't point it out of its true
*Indistinct noise again*
Alright! Fine. Moving on from that.
Today's radio broadcast is brought to you by Saturn's candy. Nothing so sweet as a stick of magic you can eat! Try their Caramel cookie candy bars, now with cooked in bloodline curse protect. If your looking for a spot of luck, try their cinnamon apply candy sticks. Saturn's candy. A proud sponsor of WHIZZ Radio!
*Little jingle*
Welcome back to the program. Time for our sister citys segment.
This reporter has just been told by his producers to issue an apology to Black Adam for statements said during this segment of yesterday's broadcast.
*An aside*
Do I have too?
*Indistinct noise*
Fine.
I am. Sorry. For calling you a craized up old fart with too much free time.
There.
Moving on!
Kahndaq currently is continuing negotiations with both the Justice League and the UN to gain a seat at the UN table. Or be allowed in the UN room. While Fawcett recognizes Kahndaq as sovereign, the rest of the world stills sees the country as illegitimate.
Aside from tense meetings, and Black Adam being a kook who keeps coming to mess with Cap due to having a grudge unbecoming of a literal king and ancient man child, Kahndaq is doing fine. The economy is flourishing, despite limited imports and exports due to sanctions. The letters sent by Fawcetts finest and kindest citizens were well received and we should hear back soon if Mercury has anything to do with it.
It's time once again for Billy's opinion of the day.
This week!
Cans and their many used.
Not only do cans offer one of the best ways to have long term storable food, but they also make awesome weapons! We got to see this on Friday when Marvel Jr. and Captain Marvel went toe to toe with demons using a barrage of cans. And the food was still good to eat after the fight!! I love it when things are multi purposed. Now if only they could close the rifts down to HadesâŚ
*Chimes*
Oh! Mercury just dropped a fresh bit of mail! Thank you Mercury! Watch out for old men wandering around. It seems like the Greek and Roman gods are looking to bless and curse some folks today.
Do good, and good will follow.
And keep an eye on the sky for lightning!
This has been Billy Batson, signing off!
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Stomach Flu
Buddie x reader
Wc: 1700 ish
You laid in bed trying desperately to fall asleep. Some kind of stomach flu had found you and was clearly trying to kill you. All night youâd been fighting blankets because you'd be hot and then freezing and then hot again. And when you'd thought maybe you'd gotten comfortable the nausea would hit.
The toilet was your new best friend. Youâd spent a decent amount of time clinging to the bowl for dear life. It was worse than any bad night of drinking you had ever had.
So now you were momentarily a comfortable temperature and not as nauseous so you didn't dare move as you begged for sleep to come.
Next thing you know the bed is jostled aggressively as Buck jumps onto the mattress and asks, âYou're still in bed?â
The sudden movement sends a jolt of pain through your skull and nearly causes you to puke. You launch yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. Falling to your knees, you empty the non-existent contents of your stomach.
Eddie is knelt beside you a moment later. He takes your hair in one hand and rubs your back with the other.
���Ugh. My best friend, we meet again,â you mumble into the toilet bowl.
âAgain?â Eddie asks. âWhat do you mean again?â
Rolling your forehead across the arm supporting your head, you glance at him and notice Buck in the doorway. âWell this is like the thousandth time I've been here since yesterday. I think I'm dying.â
Eddie runs his hand over your head then presses the back of his hand to your forehead. âBaby, why didn't you call us?â
âYou were working. I didn't think I needed help puking my guts out.â
âOne of us could have come home,â Buck says. âOr we could have brought supplies home.â
âSupplies?â
âSoup, Tylenol, tissues, maybeâŚâ Buck listed.
âI'd just puke it back up. Everything in comes right back out.â
âAlright, are you done for now? Do you want head back to bed?â Eddie asks.
âMoving makes me more nauseous. And my head hurts.â
âHave you had any water?â Eddie asks.
âTried. Failed.â You lean back and the world spins. âThis sucks.â
Eddie shifts you so you can relax back into him. âI bet. We're going to get you back into bed and get a bucket so you don't have to come lay on the floor in here anymore. Okay?â
ââKay.â You snuggle into him, enjoying his warmth.
Eddie manages to get up and lift you without too much jostling. âCan you go lay on the bed and I'll give her to you?â He asks Buck.
âOkay.â You hear the jingle of Buckâs belt and then the clank of it hitting the floor. Next, your set gently on the bed cuddled close to Buck, his arm your pillow.
âYou're warm,â you announce and you press yourself even closer and move your head into his chest.
âI'll be back soon,â Eddie says. âTry to get some sleep if you can.â
You whine, not wanting him to leave. âWhere are you going?â
âBack to the station. We need an IV kit, fluids, zofran, and probably Tylenol.â
âI don't want an IV.â
âSweetheart, you're very dehydrated,â Eddie explains. âIf you can't keep down water then you need the IV.â
You sigh. âFine.â
Buck chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
Eddie leans over and kisses your head then a quick parting kiss to Buckâs lips. âLove you guys. I'll be quick.â
âWe love you, too.â Buck says.
A minute later you hear Eddieâs keys jingle and then the front door open and close.
âSorry I woke you like that earlier.â
You snort a laugh. âNot your fault, you didn't know.â
He runs his fingers up and down your side and shoulder in random patterns. âTry to sleep,â he suggests.
âCan you tell me a story?â you ask.
âWhat kind of story?â
âI don't care. It's just soothing to hear you talk,â you tell him. âMight help me sleep.â
He starts to tell you all about flamingos because he knows how much you love them. He explains everything from how they get their color to their migration patterns and before long you feel yourself sinking into a peaceful sleep.
You wake to the sounds of Buck and Eddie laughing. You can tell theyâre trying to be quiet but the giggles are shaking you and the whole bed. âWhat's so funny?â
âCrap. Sorry, we didn't mean to wake you,â Buck says.
âIt's fine. I need to pee anyway.â You shift to roll onto your back but end up leaned against Eddie. âYou didn't tell me what was funny.â
âJust a dumb video on TikTok,â Eddie explains. âHow're you feeling?â
You take a moment to consider your answer. Your head still hurts but not as much. You still have nausea but it's much more bearable. âShitty, but kind of better.â
Buck rolls and then stands before offering you a hand. âCome on.â
âWhere are we going?â You reach over to take his hand, noticing the IV line for the first time. âI slept through that?â
âBathroom,â Buck answers.
âExhaustion will do that,â Eddie answers your second question.
Buck helps you up and your muscles protest the change in position. He wraps an arm around your waist as you sway slightly.
You take a deep breath and blow it out. âI'm good. Let's go.â
Eddie stands and grabs the bag of fluids you hadn't noticed hanging on a command hook on the wall.
All three of you head to the bathroom together and as you sit you look around. âI like this view of the bathroom much better than the other.â
âI prefer this, too,â Eddie says. âEspecially the knowing you're not as dehydrated.â
âYeah, you already look so much better than this morning,â Buck adds.
You slowly make your way back to the bed and as you're making yourself comfortable you catch a glimpse of the clock. âHoly crap! How is it almost 11?â
They both just chuckle. âThat's what happens when you sleep for three hours,â Eddie explains.
âI think that's more sleep than I got total all night. Guess I needed a better pillow,â you laugh as you look at Buck.
âYou could have had that all night if you'd called us. I'm going to go make you some soup,â Buck announces as he leaves the room.
âI'm not hungry.â
Eddie sits down beside you. âYou have to try a few bites at least, okay?â
You pout at him. âI don't want to puke anymore.â
âYou shouldn't. I gave you some zofran,â he tries to sooth you.
âFine.â You roll your eyes âBut you better have that bucket close by.â
He presses a kiss to your forehead. âIt's on the floor right here, but you're not going to need it.â
âYou're awfully optimistic given that I'm still nauseous.â
âYou said you felt better,â he chastises. âIs it still as bad?â
Leaning back into him, you explain, âI said I feel shitty. Shitty is better than feeling like death. I'm less nauseous, but still nauseous.â
âI'm sorry you feel shitty,â he intertwines his fingers with yours and lifts it to kiss your knuckles. âThe soup should help you feel less shitty. Hopefully you're just nauseous because you have nothing in your system. So just try a few bites, okay?â
Buck returns with a tray in his hands. âI have soup, the old fashioned chicken noodle just like you like. I also have saltine crackers, oyster crackers, sprite, and water.â He sets the tray in front of you and then leans in to kiss you.
You pull away quickly. âDon't kiss me. You'll catch this plague.â
âI'll risk it.â
You lift the spoon and drink a spoonful of the broth and then you pause, waiting for the nausea to get worse. When it doesn't, you continue slowly with more broth and then eventually the noodles and a couple crackers.
Eventually you manage to eat almost half the soup and a few sips of water before you set the spoon down. âI'm done. I can't handle any more right now.â
âThat's fine. You ate way more than I expected,â Eddie says.
Buck takes the water and sprite off the tray and sets them on the bedside table before taking the rest away.
âCan I have my hand back yet?â You lift the hand with the IV line and give him your best pouty face.
He shakes his head. âNo. I will unhook the fluids when that bag is gone but I want to keep the IV lock for now until we're sure you're going to keep all that down.â
You roll your eyes. âFiiiiine.â
He laughs. âDo you want me to have to poke you again if you do puke more?â
You stick your tongue out at him. âNo.â
âThought so.â He boops your nose. âGlad to see you're feeling better.â
Buck returns and snuggles in beside you on the bed. âYou want to pick a movie to nap through?â
You smiled and they both groaned. âSleeping Beauty! Oh, wait, Enchanted⌠no, I actually want to be awake for that. Sleeping Beauty for sure.â
âWhy do you make us watch princess movies when you know you're only going to watch ten minutes?â Buck complained.
âBecause it's fun.â You shrugged. âPlus, then I get to dream I'm a princess.â
Buck raises an eyebrow. âAre you saying that if we switch to football as soon as you're asleep you're going to dream about that?â
âProbably.â
âSleeping Beauty on one conditionâŚâ Eddie started.
âWhat?â you asked.
âNext time you get sick while we're at work, you call us immediately.â
âNo,â you argued. âBecause there won't be a next time. This is awful. I don't want a repeat.â
âFine. If! If by some small chance it happens or if you just get the sniffles⌠you call.â
âDeal.â
Eddie gets the movie set up and you make yourself comfortable. This time you use Eddie as a body pillow and Buck drapes his arm over your waist.
The movie starts and you almost instantly feel yourself drifting. âLove you guys.â You mumble as you close your eyes.
They chorus an âI love you too,â as you fall into a dreamless slumber.
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NNN - matt sturniolo - family issues
!Warming! : this writing may contain sensitive topics for some people, including family fighting and burn out. please read with caution if family arguments or arguments in general easily trigger you.
You had slammed the cabinet door shut harder than you expected to. Your mothers words cutting your skin like a knife, your patience snapping like a taut rubber band that had been stretched too far. âI canât believe you just said that.â you gritted, turning to her.
Your mom stood across the kitchen, arms crossed, her eyes narrowed in irritation. âI said what I said. Youâre always lounging around, doing nothing, while Iâm the one keeping this house together.â she spat out.
âAre you kidding me?â Your voice rose as you turned to face her, incredulous. âI vacuumed the whole house this morning, cleaned the bathroom, and scrubbed the kitchen. Iâve been running around all day trying to keep this place livable while youâve been sitting on the couch!â your voice raised more â you were irritated and upset.
why canât she just see how hard you work?
âAnd yet, the laundry is still sitting in the basket, isnât it?â she shot back, her tone sharp and cutting. âYou canât even finish one thing properly!â her own hands slammed against the counter as her words left her lips.
Your hands balled into fists at your sides, shaking. âI canât do everything! Iâm one person! You donât even notice the things I do unless thereâs something left undone.â you could feel the tears brimming in your eyes â but you couldnât let her see she was affecting you, you had to be strong.
âOh, poor you,â she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. âLife is so hard for you, isnât it? You act like youâre doing me some huge favor by cleaning, but you live here too. Itâs your responsibility.â
You stared at her, your chest heaving. âDo you even hear yourself? I am doing my part, and then some! Youâre the one who doesnât lift a finger but still complains that nothingâs good enough.â you choked out.
Her face twisted in anger. âDonât you dare talk to me like that. You have no idea what I deal with every day, keeping this house running and keeping you in it!â she screamed, coming around the counter and getting closer to you,
âKeeping me in it? Are you serious right now?â you echoed, your voice trembling more with disbelief and hurt. âYou act like Iâm some freeloader who doesnât contribute. Iâm breaking my back trying to help you, and all you do is tear me down!â Your said. âAnd on top of everything, I worked a full shift this morning. What more do you want from me?â
you were trying, you really were. Did she not see that?
Her scoff was sharp, cutting through the room. âOh, sure. You do barely the minimum and expect a medal. Maybe if you spent less time pretending to help and more time actually contributing, I wouldnât have to ask you for money all the time!â she was almost in your face now, you could feel her breath fanning you.
You stared at her, your hands trembling with frustration as you leaned back a little. âAre you seriously throwing that in my face? Every time you ask me for money, I give it to you. Every single time. Do you even know how hard it is to keep my job and still manage everything at home?â
She shook her head. âDonât act like youâre some kind of saint,â she snapped. âYou live here. Itâs your responsibility to pitch in. Or do you think youâre entitled to a free ride?â
âI do pitch in! Iâm doing everything! I pay bills when youâre short, I clean up after everyone, and I still go to work to make sure I can cover my own expenses. What do you even do besides sit there and criticize me?â you snapped back, leaning forward from your leaned back position â though that might not have been the best idea.
Her nostrils flared as her eyes turned dark, and she jabbed a finger at your chest â the force digging into your skin making you wince slightly. âDonât you dare take that tone with me. Iâve sacrificed everything for this family, and all I ask is for you to pull your weight.â
âPull my weight?â you repeated, your body beginning to tremble more from your overwhelmed emotions. âIâve been carrying this house on my back, and you know it! But sure, letâs pretend Iâm the problem. Itâs easier for you, isnât it?â you sniffled slightly, the words barely making it past your lips and you tried to keep it together.
âYou know what?â she snapped, throwing her hands up. âIf you hate it here so much, then maybe you shouldnât come back. Go find somewhere else to stay if you think youâve got it so bad.â
Her words stung, piercing deeper than you expected. âFine,â you said, your voice cold and steady despite the tears beginning to spill over your waterline. âI will.â
Grabbing your keys and slipping on your shoes, you muttered under your breath, âMaybe youâll finally notice how much I actually do when Iâm not here to do it anymore.â
âDonât come crying to me when you realize how easy you have it,â she called out as you slammed the door behind you.
The cold night air hit your face, mingling with the tears that spilled over as you made your way to your car. Your hands were shaking so badly that it took three tries to get the keys into the ignition.
You barely registered the drive to Mattâs house, your mind replaying the fight over and over like a broken record. By the time you reached his front door, your tears were coming harder, the lump in your throat so heavy it hurt to swallow.
You hadnât even raised your hand to knock when the door opened. Matt stood there in sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair tousled like heâd been lying down, but his entire demeanor shifted the moment he saw you. His brows furrowed in concern as his eyes scanned your tear-streaked face.
âBaby,â he said softly, stepping aside to let you in. âWhatâs wrong?â
As soon as his arms opened, you crumbled into him. The second you felt his warmth and smelled the familiar scent of his cologne â something woodsy and comforting â you broke down completely. Your hands clutched at his hoodie as your sobs wracked your body.
âHey, hey,â he murmured, wrapping his arms around you tightly. âItâs okay. Iâve got you. Just let it out.â
He gently guided you into the living room, keeping you close as he sat down on the couch and pulled you into his lap. His large hands rubbed soothing circles on your back while his other hand cradled the back of your head.
âI-I canât do it anymore, Matt,â you finally managed to choke out between sobs. âShe doesnât see anything I do. She doesnât care. She just â she just keeps tearing me down.â
âWho?â he asked softly, leaning back just enough to look at you. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. âWhoâs tearing you down?â
âMy mom,â you whispered, your voice breaking. âShe said I donât do anything, but I do everything. I worked this morning, cleaned the whole house, and then she asked me for money again â like she always does â and still told me I donât pull my weight. Itâs like⌠no matter how hard I try, itâs never enough for her.â
Mattâs jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with anger. âThatâs not fair. You work so hard, and she has no right to treat you like that. Iâve seen how much you do, how much you give. Youâre amazing, and if she canât see that, then thatâs on her â not you.â he said, holding you tighter to him.
You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks. âIt just hurts, you know? Iâve been trying so hard to keep everything together, and she acts like Iâm nothing but a burden.â
âYou are not a burden,â he said firmly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. âDo you hear me? You are not a burden. Youâre one of the strongest, most selfless people I know. She doesnât deserve you.â he stated, making sure you knew his words were true.
âBut sheâs my mom,â you said softly, your voice trembling. âI want to make her proud. I want her to see that Iâm trying.â Mattâs expression softened, and he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours. âI know you do. But you donât have to destroy yourself to earn someone elseâs approval, especially hers. Youâre enough just as you are, okay? Youâre more than enough.â
You let out a shaky breath, fresh tears spilling over, but this time they werenât just from sadness. There was something in his words, in the way he held you, that eased the tightness in your chest.
âThank you,â you whispered. He shook his head, âYou donât have to thank me,â he said gently. âThatâs what Iâm here for.â
He adjusted you in his lap, tucking the blanket tighter around your shoulders before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. âListen, youâre staying here tonight. No arguments. Iâm not letting you go back there like this.â he muttered against your temple.
âI donât want to go back,â you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. âThen you wonât,â he said firmly. âThis is your home tonight, and for as long as you need it to be.â
You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back, and his voice was soft when he spoke again.
âYou know youâre not alone, right? Youâve got me. Always.â
You sniffled once more. âI know,â you whispered. âI just⌠I feel so unappreciated sometimes. Like nothing I do matters.â you could feel the self doubt settling into you now â from your mothers words earlier. Were you really not doing a good enough job?
âIt matters to me,â he said, his voice steady and sure. âEverything you do matters to me. I see you, and Iâm so proud of you. Youâre doing more than anyone should ever have to, and youâre doing it so well.â
You looked up at him, your heart clenching at the sincerity in his eyes. âYou really mean that?â
He hummed, âOf course I do,â he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. âIâll tell you as many times as you need to hear it until you believe me. Youâre incredible, and anyone who canât see that is blind.â And a soft laugh escaped you, he grinned, his thumb brushing your cheek. âThere she is. Thereâs my girl.â
You felt your cheeks flush at the nickname, and for the first time all day, the tightness in your chest began to ease. âDo you want to talk more about it, or do you just want to relax?â he asked gently. âRelax,â you said after a moment. âIâm too tired to think anymore.â
âGood call,â he said with a smile, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. âHow about something stupidly funny? Or do you want me to cook something for you first? I can make you those pancakes you like.â You shook your head, leaning into him. âJust stay with me.â
âAlways,â he murmured, pulling you closer.
He put on some random comedy show, and you both sat in comfortable silence for a while. His hand never stopped tracing lazy patterns on your back, and every now and then, heâd drop a kiss to the top of your head. By the time you started to drift off, your body nestled against his, you felt a little lighter than you had in days.
Š strnilolover
a/n : am i self projecting? maybe. but iâm not in that situation anymore and havenât been for over a year. but please, if any of you are in this kind of situation, know that there is always a way out. donât be afraid to ask for help. (i also wrote this on the bus without my glasses so iâm so sorry if some parts may not make sense)
#áŻâ
strnilolover#nnn#no nut november#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagine#matthew bernard sturniolo#matt sturniolo angst#matthew sturniolo angst#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo angst#sturniolo triplets angst#angst#hurt/comfort#comfort#family fight#fighting#yelling#crying
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Kai's Pretty Girlfriend [2]: Step Two
Hueningkai x Reader, eventual OT5 x Reader [3k ish words]
Warnings: thigh riding, kinda mean dom kai, sub reader, unprotected sex, dub con (Kai does things under the assumption that since the guys like the reader, they won't mind and while he's right, he still doesn't ask for consent), exhibitionism, voyeurism
Movie nights are a bit of a sacred tradition between the six of you. The only reason they work so well with your busy schedules is because you all make an effort to spend time together. It might seem silly, but you all push through fatigue and a promise of a good night sleep if it means youâll spend even just two hours with each other. So maybe Kai should feel a little more remorseful for tainting them.
Itâs for the greater good! He thinks to himself as he lets his hands travel down the front of your body under the blanket covering the two of you. Making sure to stop at your covered tits to give them some love. Pinching and pulling them through your shirt just a bit before traveling lower. Youâre ever so pliant for him. He tells himself itâs because youâre such a good girl but he knows itâs probably because of the four guys sitting right next to you.
Well, right next to you is a bit of an exaggeration. You and Kai take the loveseat as the resident love birds while the guys pile onto the couch. They could very well see whatâs going on if not for the action movie playing on the TV. Kai should probably know what it is, but he didnât even bother to pay attention when they explained the two-part series because he knew heâd have more pressing matters to attend to. Namely, you.
He decides he should have some decorum, at least at the start. Itâll be no fun if youâre found out so soon after all. He just lets his hand wander under the blanket and your skirt to check what he already knows. Of course, youâre wet for him. Knowing you, youâve been wet since you got to the dorm for the movie night. Kai was not secretive about the things he wanted to do to you, making sure to strip you of your panties and work you open for him as soon as he got his hands on you.
But that just makes this all the more fun. He keeps you still on his lap through the first movie but doesnât let you rest. Instead, he trails his hands up and down your waist, sometimes letting them go up to fondle your tits some more and sometimes letting them go lower fluttering around but never where you need him most.
About halfway through the second movie, he turns you around on his lap, making sure to keep the blanket in place. You go willingly, letting him manhandle you into a different position and just tuck your head onto his shoulder with your face turned out to the TV. No doubt, it's a very uncomfortable position, but you donât whine or complain. But Kai knows you well enough to know that your silence will go away very soon.
He takes a glance at the guys to see what theyâre up to and finds them all glued to the screen. It seems like a fight scene is on and theyâre all adamantly watching it. Yeonjun is leaning a bit out of his seat on the couch to see better while Soobin is resting his head on the back of the couch probably fighting sleep. Taehyun and Beomgyu are squished in between the two also fixed on the tv. Kai takes that as being in the clear to continue.
He starts off slow and simply grabs your hips to adjust your position from on his lap to hovering over his thigh. Setting you down and leaning to your ear to whisper, âGo ahead, sweetie. Donât you wanna get off?â
Your hands twitch where theyâre rested between the two of you before moving to his shoulders, squeezing. âBut the guysâŚâ
âI donât think I mentioned them, did I?â He uses his grip to push you down onto his thigh, flexing the muscle. âIsnât this what you wanted? You were so wet when I checked earlier. Iâm not gonna help you out, so get started before I change my mind.â
You mutter something he canât hear before rolling your hips against him. Shifting your head into his neck to hide your gasp. The rough fabric against your bare cunt doesnât feel as good as you were hoping but youâre not gonna complain. You start off with a slow movement, too aware of the other people in the room with you.
Your hands flex on Kai's shoulders as you move yourself over his thigh. You quickly soak Kaiâs pants which makes you run hot, but it does aid the slide. His flexing every so often also helps, but besides that, he leaves his hands at your hips and doesn't talk to you. It makes you feel so needy and desperate as if he didn't get you like this.
You crave his hands on you. Want his hands to wander down to the crease where your ass meets your thighs and grip. Want him to guide your movements above him like he usually does. Want him to trace your thighs and pinch at your skin while laughing at the tears his touch brings. But since he isn't, it's up to you to bring yourself pleasure, grinding against his thigh while you muffle your sounds against his skin.
You eventually build up a good rhythm that isnât too noticeable while still working yourself to the edge. But thatâs the problem. Youâre only on the edge. It feels like youâve been doing this for so long. Short pants leave your mouth from the effort and you angle your hips just right to rub your clit against his thigh.
But even that doesnât help much. It feels so good and you know youâve gotten off with less before, so why is it so hard? You just wanted to come, is that so much to ask? Kai has had you wound up since you walked into the dorm and this could be the sweet relief you needed but of course, itâs not that easy. A grunt of displeasure leaves your lips.
You never liked doing the work, content to let Kai move you as he wishes. Hell, you donât even like riding him all that much. It doesnât take much longer before youâre whimpering into his neck and clutching his shoulders, on the verge of tears because your thighs hurt and youâre no closer to coming than you were before all this.
âKai.â You whisper into his skin. âI canât. Help me?â
âOf course, you canât. Dumb thing always needs me to help her out, hm?â Kai makes sure to let out a sigh before moving his hand from your hip to your cunt. He uses two fingers to open your folds and circle your entrance before continuing. âYou just canât help it though, can you? Always need me to make you feel good, right?â
âNeed you. Need you.â You agree as you push your hips closer to his hand, urging him to get inside you. âPlease. Please? Iâll be good, promise.â
He takes that as the okay to push two fingers into you. You gasp at the intrusion and clench around them. âI canât help if you do let me in, pretty. I prepped you earlier, loosen up.â
You take a deep breath before relaxing into his hold once again. He mutters a âgoodâ to you before spreading his fingers inside you and thrusting them in and out. You try to keep your sounds down, you really do, but Kai knows how to make you feel good. He knows which parts to prod and press at to have you seeing stars and he doesnât even try to help you out.
Not even bothering to be nice, instead playing with you in a way that he knows makes you loud. He doesn't bat an eye at how you bite your lip and squeeze his shoulders because he knows you'll be good. Knows youâll take whatever he gives you and you will, but itâs hard. How can he expect you to be quiet when heâs doing this to you?
âKai.â You moan out when he pushes his fingers to that spot that makes you feel so so good and grip his shoulders tighter. âI can- you canât do that.â
âAnd why not?â He asks as he teases a third finger at your entrance. âI thought you wanted my help, baby. Am I not helping?â
âNo, no, you are. Bu-â Youâre cut off by another moan escaping from his movements. âI canât be quiet like this.â
âYou can, baby." He pulls his fingers out to readjust before thrusting three into you with his thumb making a home on your clit. "I know you can be good for me.â
âI canât.â He presses a kiss to your head, telling you to continue. "Not like this."
âWell, then youâll just be loud.â His movements get more rough, each time he thrusts his fingers in he spreads them out mapping your core but making sure at least one of them is hitting that spongey spot inside you. âI know thatâs what you wanted anyways, hm? Baby needs attention all the time. Iâm not enough for you?â
âNo!" You jolt at your volume before resting your head further into Kai's neck to continue. "No. Kai- Hyuka thatâs not it, please.â
"Well, what do you want, hm?" His free hand travels to your waist and pinches hard making the tears that pooled in your eyes earlier spill over and whimpers leave your mouth. "I'm trying to help you out and all you're doing is complaining."
"Sor- 'm sorry." You cry out. "Just feel so good, you make me feel so good, I can't be quiet."
"My sweet girl." He purrs, bringing his hand from your clit to cradle your face, making sure to smear your wetness on your face. "My poor sweet girl. How could I forget? How dare I forget how dumb you get when I get my hands on you? That's okay, I'll make you listen."
He slides two fingers into your mouth and continues his ministrations below. And this feels good. Oh, it feels amazing, but then you realize that you donât want to come like this. You tap his shoulder a few times and he slides his fingers out.
âI need you.â You trail your hands down to pull at the hem of his pants. âPlease, please?â
âFor how worried you were before, it seems like you want them to know how much of a slut you are.â He chances a glance at the guys to find them still watching the movie. Now, whether thatâs out of respect or genuine interest is not determined. âShould I just take the blanket off of you? Let them see for real?â
You shake your head but continue pulling on his hemline. "No, 'm just need you. Need you. Please?" And for as hard as Kai can be on you, he really likes to give you what you want. He likes making you feel good. Likes turning you whiney and making you cry and beg for what you want just so he can give you it and so much more. Maybe thatâs why you continue to ask for more, knowing whatever you take he returns tenfold.
âLift up a bit.â You raise onto your knees to give him room to slide his dick out. âBite my shoulder, sweet thing. So youâre not too loud.â
You were about to retort but when he guides you onto him, you quickly bite down to keep in your sounds. Kai's not helping any with the way he travels his hands up from your hips and to your stomach to press on the bulge he's leaving in your tummy making you choke down a moan.
âThis is what you needed, hm?â He says as he picks you up a bit to fix his footing. âAlways need me to do all the work, right baby? Pretty thing canât get off by herself, but thatâs okay, Iâll help you out.â
He takes to moving you up and down his cock but never letting you go all the way down so thereâs no sound of skin hitting skin. Not that the lack of sound would matter much because youâre not quiet whatsoever. You poor thing, gripping his shoulders so tightly and digging your teeth in so hard but even that isnât stopping your sounds.
You probably donât even realize, too caught up in the feeling of wanting a release so desperately that you canât think of anything else. Kai likes it when you get like this. So lost in the way he makes you feel. It makes him want to devour you but more than that, makes him want to show you off. Show the world how good you are, how sweet you sound.
He looks up to check if the guys are still watching the TV and they are but itâs clear their minds are elsewhere. All of their ears are tinted red and theyâre all sitting ramrod straight, adjusting every now and then.
Kai wants to say something, but he didnât talk to you about how far he could push and, honestly, youâd agree to anything heâd ask of you right now but would it be genuine? Or would you just be agreeing so you could come? He doesnât have much time to assess before your keening and pulling off his shoulder to beg.
âKai! âm gonna- gonna come.â You choke out as your hands go from his shoulders to his neck, tilting your head up towards him. âKiss? Please?"
âYou never have to ask, love.â He bends down to meet your lips, sliding his tongue into your waiting mouth. âGo ahead and come for me, baby.â He whispers into your lips. âYouâve been so good, you deserve it.â He slams you down onto his lap and moves his hand to your clit, passing over it once, twice, until youâre coming around him.
When youâre finished riding out your high, he pulls himself out of you and hushes your whines with a sweet kiss before he picks you up to pull up his pants and carries you out of the living room. Leaving his friends and group mates to sit in silence (besides the movie credits rolling) with awkward boners and flushes on their faces. When he lays you down on the bed, he kisses you again as he strips you of your clothes.
âDid I do good? Hyuka?â You ask even though he already said it, craving his words.
âSo good, baby.â He pulls down his pants and enters you again. âAlways so good for me. My perfect little slut, yeah?â
His words may grow more brazen but his thrusts are slow and deep. His hands are sweet as they guide your legs over his shoulders. You love Kai in all of his moods but this one might be your favorite. The way his hands trace your body as if your glass but his mouth runs a mile a minute. Telling you how you were so good and so quiet that he almost thought he wasnât making you feel good. Saying how heâll just have to make you scream now to make sure he can still satisfy you.
He continues to ramble as he travels his hands to interlock with yours and bring them above your head. Rocking into you and reaching so far you swear you feel him in your throat, as impossible as that is. It feels so good, he feels so good, you canât help the little ahs that leave your mouth.
He makes you both reach the edge like that, rambling off about anything and everything before sliding himself out of you and grabbing something to clean you off. Then pulling you into his arms and whispering sweet nothings to you until you fall asleep interlocked together.
<3
Kai expected a talk after you were less than subtle during movie night, but it doesn't make it any less embarrassing to be scolded by his friends.
Taehyun, Soobin, Yeonjun, and Beomgyu are currently standing in front of the couch where you and Kai are cuddling. Taehyun is standing with his hands in his pockets looking bored, Soobin is fiddling with his hands and looks as if he'd rather be anywhere else, Yeonjun has his arms crossed and is tapping his foot, and Beomgyu looks excited that he isn't currently being scolded.
"Is there anything you guys need?" Kai asks casually as he adjusts your position to sitting up.
"You guys can't sit together for movie nights anymore," Yeonjun says with shockingly little remorse considering the fact that he just ripped Kai's heart out and stomped on it in less than ten words.
"What?"
"Why not?" You and Kai share a look of shock and devastation before turning back to them.
"Well, putting aside the fact that you don't even pretend to pay attention to the movie, you also are very distracting to those of us who do want to watch the movie," Taehyun responds.
"How are we distracting?" Kai asks.
"Y/n doesn't even attempt to be quiet an-" Beomgyu is cut off by your gasp as you turn to Kai.
"You told me I was quiet!" You shoot him a look of pure betrayal that Kai has to look away from in shame.
"Well, maybeee you weren't as quiet as I was telling you," Kai proceeds to defend himself (read: lie through his fucking teeth), "You always try so hard to be good for me, I couldn't handle breaking the truth to you."
You don't spare him another glance before looking at the guys in remorse, "I'm so sorry that someone is a lying asshole, I didn't mean to stop you guys from enjoying movie nights."
"No, y/n, it's not your fault," Soobin stops before you can overthink. "We completely blame Kai. It wasn't even that big of a problem, we really wouldnât have minded if it wasnât during movie night!â
âYou wouldnât have minded?â You ask surprised. Soobin promptly flushes.
âI- I mean, if youâre comfortable- but like- we donât mind- I mean I canât speak for them but-â
âWhat Soobin is so eloquently saying is that youâre hot y/n,â Beomgyu chimes in, not even flinching at the scorching glare Soobin sends his way. âWeâd be crazy to not want to see you fall apart so prettily.â
âOh.â Youâre rendered speechless while Kai struggles to keep his smile at bay. This means Step Two is a success as well! Heâs two for two. Damn. He shouldâve placed a bet with someone. Or maybe not because when he thinks about it, Step Three needs a bit of revision...
Step Two is done!! Yippie! This took so long because chapter three had me in a chokehold (and I was sick). Love ya! Let me know what you think!
What is Kai's revision to step three? The guys have watched so long, do you think they'll break and start doing something?
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