#if you’re not comfortable asking that person

[seitmai]

Many thoughts “I’m surprised you didn't have Ray bring us back,” you commented. You were used to him being the one close by, and Bucky didn't seem to bring a lot of his other men around his place. At least not that you were aware of.

“Between you and I, Curtis isn't a huge fan of most of my friends. The less time he spends with them the better his mood is.” If you didn't know any better, you’d say Bucky sounded amused. You were also curious why Curtis still worked for him if he didn't like the crowd he ran with. “But he’ll go to the club with me later. He deserves to get the first hit in since he pulled that bastard off of you.”

Fair 🤷🏻‍♀️

You shivered again. “How am I meant to get used to this lifestyle?” you asked. You followed the rules of society like a normal person, but Bucky made his own rules. He wasn’t afraid to use his influence or violence to get what he wanted in life. He was almost shameless in it and how he manipulated people around him. That wasn’t you. It could never be you.

Truly a good question

“We. How are we meant to get through this,” he corrected you. “And we do that one day at a time,” he said, like it was so simple. “Aren’t you already used to this?” you asked. It was the life you imagined he grew up with thanks to his dad. “I’m used to my lifestyle, but you’re out of your depth and I’m not used to this as being part of a couple. I’ve been selfish in how I’ve tried to ease you into this,” he said. You tried not to gape at him since he hadn’t eased you into anything at all. “But you’re home now and we’ll figure this out.”

Urgh that's actually really sweet of him

You pondered his words. Maybe he wasn’t trying to control you now that you were home. He was concerned for your well being. “We have to find common ground,” you whispered. It was already going to be a life sentence being by his side, and you couldn’t live your life as a prisoner.

Uff the last sentence really hit

“Yeah. No one ever put their hands on me like this before and I want to be able to defend myself if it happens again,” you explained, hearing Bucky’s swift intake of breath. Maybe he could keep you safe, but you needed to help yourself however you could. “Natasha or one of her girls teaching me will be better than some guy.”

I think that's a good idea, also gives some control back to her

Turning your gaze toward the ceiling once he left you alone, you tried to quiet the sudden screaming in your mind. You wanted answers from Clark, from Zemo. You also fought the urge to tell him to quickly come back. Why was his presence suddenly soothing when you were still so upset?

👀

“Of course. My apologies.” To her credit, she didn't look the least bit afraid or put off. She was either used to Bucky’s antics or used to difficult patients.

Probably both lol

Dr. Cho didn't take her eyes off you. “Would you prefer to speak with just me?” she asked, cutting Bucky off with a single glare when he opened his mouth to argue. “I know you didn't put your hands on her. I just want her to be comfortable.”

Dr. Cho is a good one 🫶🏻

Curtis took a step into the room at that point and your nerves crept up when you glanced at Bucky. His nostrils flared and his metal hand curled so tight so you hear the gears turn. You squeezed his hand in the hope that it would ease some of the tension. Maybe it was to soothe the both of you. “Breathe,” you whispered.

I live that it mirrors how Bucky calmed her down before with the same reminder

Dr. Cho leaned in a little once Bucky left the room. “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything at all?” Her voice was quiet, casual, but there was something in her eyes that said she wasn’t just asking about this incident. Was she trying to help or was this a sick test to prove your loyalty? With Curtis nearby and being in Bucky’s penthouse, you wouldn’t risk it. “I just want to get some rest and recover from what happened,” you answered. The doctor nodded after a minute. “If you do want to talk-”

Omg I just wanna give Dr. Cho a hug!! She is the first one to truly question Bucky and his authority, I applaud her for doing the right thing even if in this situation the cards are stacked against her 👏🏻

“No, I don’t. She’s one of the best doctors there is. I think she has patched us all up at some point,” he answered, bringing the snack to your lips and smiling once you took a bite. “But she’s similar to you in a sense that she has a good heart, so she isn’t always comfortable with some of what goes on.”

100% valid on her part lol

Taking a breath, you let your eyes close and gasped when his lips touched each eyelid.

Surprised would not even describe what I would feel in that moment

Bucky’s face fell. “I promise I’m not trying to overwhelm you. I only wanted your day to end on a good note for you.”

That's such a sweet thought

It was meant to be a good day, and a wonderful time with your friends. “You built me my own library?” “I wanted you to have a sanctuary in our home. A space just for you,” he explained, running a hand along the back of the couch. “None of my men are allowed in here and I have to ask permission before I come in.”

She deserves and needs this just for her!

You slowly looked around. “So, you redesigned the room connected to the panic room to give to me?” you asked. “I told you your safety matters above all else,” he said, holding a hand out for you. You took it after slightly hesitating. The fact that he gave up what was likely one of the safest rooms in the entire penthouse in order for you to have a sanctuary made your head spin. “I had the combination changed to your birthday.”

What a sentiment to his concerns

“You really are prepared, aren’t you?” you asked. “Prepared, yes, but I had nothing to lose before,” he said, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. He barely grazed your skin, almost testing to see if you’d flinch. “I have everything to lose now.”

He is so in love

He leaned in and your heart raced, but you didn’t feel trapped. Not this time. “You’re worth everything and more,” he whispered. “Boss?” Curtis called out from the hall before Bucky could kiss you.

Haha impeccable timing 🤭

“I just wanted to say thank you for helping me tonight,” you said. He looked stunned. Did Bucky or the others not express gratitude toward him? “I don’t know if I can ever repay you for that.”

I feel like Bucky is not a big thank you person lol

You smiled softly. “Do you like brownies? It isn’t much, but I do make a decent batch of brownies and it would be a small token of gratitude.” Curtis and Bucky both looked stunned. “You’re offering him brownies?” Bucky asked, glaring at the other man. “I haven’t had her brownies yet.” “I like brownies,” Curtis said. You smothered a giggle when the dangerous man pouted. “Oh, don’t pout. I didn’t say you wouldn’t get any. Curtis just gets the first try,” you said, poking Bucky’s arm. “And maybe I haven’t had a chance to make them because you’ve been so busy tailoring my schedule to your liking.” “I like her, boss. She’s a keeper.”

Haha I love Curtis already 🤭

Hold You Tight: Part 21

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 20 | Series Masterlist | Part 22

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.4k

Chapter Summary: Bucky shows you something after the doctor looks you over.

Chapter Warnings: Aftermath of physical assault, tension, mention of violence and threats, inner turmoil, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and I feel like this chapter is short. Thank you again for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky rubbed your back, occasionally whispering sweet words when you didn't speak. After your exhausting cry fest, you resorted to sniffles and sighs. You wanted to hide away, which seemed cowardly. It was only fair after what you went through, but you also wanted to face the world. You were torn, and it was tiring.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered when your eyes slipped shut. “I know you're tired, but I need you to try to stay awake for me, okay?”

“And for Dr. Cho,” you said. It was probably good to stay awake in case you were showing any signs of a concussion. What sort of questions would she ask? How involved was she in Bucky’s world? “Where's Curtis?” you asked. You owed him a thank you at some point. Ray and Steve, too. Messed up situation or not they deserved a bit of your gratitude, right?

“He’s waiting to bring her up.”

“I’m surprised you didn't have Ray bring us back,” you commented. You were used to him being the one close by, and Bucky didn't seem to bring a lot of his other men around his place. At least not that you were aware of.

“Between you and I, Curtis isn't a huge fan of most of my friends. The less time he spends with them the better his mood is.” If you didn't know any better, you’d say Bucky sounded amused. You were also curious why Curtis still worked for him if he didn't like the crowd he ran with. “But he’ll go to the club with me later. He deserves to get the first hit in since he pulled that bastard off of you.”

Your stomach turned, but you felt better knowing he wouldn’t force you to go to the club considering he didn’t even want to say Clark’s name. “What are you going to do to him?”

You didn’t mean to shiver at the frost in his eyes, but you did. How could a look be so cold? “I’m not sure you want the details,” he replied. You weren't sure you wanted to know either. “What I can tell you is that he’s going to suffer and wish he was dead.”

You shivered again. “How am I meant to get used to this lifestyle?” you asked. You followed the rules of society like a normal person, but Bucky made his own rules. He wasn’t afraid to use his influence or violence to get what he wanted in life. He was almost shameless in it and how he manipulated people around him. That wasn’t you. It could never be you.

“We. How are we meant to get through this,” he corrected you. “And we do that one day at a time,” he said, like it was so simple.

“Aren’t you already used to this?” you asked. It was the life you imagined he grew up with thanks to his dad.

“I’m used to my lifestyle, but you’re out of your depth and I’m not used to this as being part of a couple. I’ve been selfish in how I’ve tried to ease you into this,” he said. You tried not to gape at him since he hadn’t eased you into anything at all. “But you’re home now and we’ll figure this out.”

“Does figuring things out mean you brush off what I ask for? Like going to work tomorrow?” you asked. It wasn’t wrong of you to want a normal day. Weren’t you owed that much?

He sighed, but it wasn’t out of annoyance. “I wasn’t trying to brush you off, Kotyonok. You went through something terrible tonight, and I thought staying home to rest and relax was the better option.”

You pondered his words. Maybe he wasn’t trying to control you now that you were home. He was concerned for your well being. “We have to find common ground,” you whispered. It was already going to be a life sentence being by his side, and you couldn’t live your life as a prisoner.

“Is that really a discussion you want to have tonight?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you glared. “I’m not saying that to insult you or dismiss your feelings. I just think tomorrow might be a better time to discuss it so we can both process everything.”

You didn’t want to say he was right. So much of what you had been through was because of his actions, but he was frightened by what happened, too. “I do want to say that Natasha offered to teach me self defense, and I think I’ll take her up on that.”

“You want Natasha to teach you?” he asked.

“Yeah. No one ever put their hands on me like this before and I want to be able to defend myself if it happens again,” you explained, hearing Bucky’s swift intake of breath. Maybe he could keep you safe, but you needed to help yourself however you could. “Natasha or one of her girls teaching me will be better than some guy.”

If some guy put you on your back the way Clark did who knew how you’d react. The way Bucky’s eyes darkened he didn’t want another guy touching you either. “As long as I can teach you how to use a gun and a knife.”

“A gun and a knife?” you asked before his phone went off.

“That should be Curtis and Dr. Cho. I’ll be right back.”

Turning your gaze toward the ceiling once he left you alone, you tried to quiet the sudden screaming in your mind. You wanted answers from Clark, from Zemo. You also fought the urge to tell him to quickly come back. Why was his presence suddenly soothing when you were still so upset?

You sat up when you heard footsteps followed by a gentle call of your name. “Hello. I’m Dr. Cho.” The gentle but strong voice matched the demeanor of the woman who entered the room. Bucky followed a couple of steps behind, and Curtis lingered in the doorway. “I understand you've been through quite the ordeal this evening.”

“She was attacked,” Bucky snarled, moving beside you again as the doctor set her bag down. “That’s a lot more than just some ordeal.”

“Bucky,” you whispered. The doctor meant no offense or harm.

“Of course. My apologies.” To her credit, she didn't look the least bit afraid or put off. She was either used to Bucky’s antics or used to difficult patients. “Can you please tell me your name and date of birth?”

You answered the question easily, but didn’t say anything else as she checked your heartbeat and blood pressure. She wasn’t your normal doctor, so it wasn’t like she had access to your medical records. Did she?

“And can you tell me what happened tonight?”

Your eyes flickered to Bucky and Curtis. Both were watching you with a mixture of anger and sympathy. “Well…” It took a moment to really begin. “Cl… A man was waiting for me when I got back to my apartment. I told him to leave, but…”

“Breathe,” Bucky whispered, taking your hand and silently urging you to continue whenever you were ready.

You wanted to breathe normally and not think about Clark or anything else.

Dr. Cho didn't take her eyes off you. “Would you prefer to speak with just me?” she asked, cutting Bucky off with a single glare when he opened his mouth to argue. “I know you didn't put your hands on her. I just want her to be comfortable.”

“It's okay,” you said. Even if you wanted to speak to the doctor alone you knew Bucky would hover nearby. “He grabbed my wrist and yanked me back hard enough that I fell to the ground,” you continued, showing her so she could look it over. “I may have hit my head when that happened.”

She turned your wrist over, looking for swelling or tenderness as you tested your mobility. It didn’t hurt as much as it had earlier, which had to be a good sign. “Have you been experiencing any nausea? Trouble thinking? Sensitivity to light?” she asked, getting a small flashlight to check your eyes.

“No, I think I’m okay,” you replied.

“Did anything else happen?”

“He choked me,” you said above a whisper, skipping over the fact that he put a hand on your thigh. Nothing had actually happened.

“Everything he did to you, I’m going to make it a hundred times worse,” Bucky said through his teeth.

Curtis took a step into the room at that point and your nerves crept up when you glanced at Bucky. His nostrils flared and his metal hand curled so tight so you hear the gears turn. You squeezed his hand in the hope that it would ease some of the tension. Maybe it was to soothe the both of you.

“Breathe,” you whispered.

Anger remained on his face when he took a deep breath. You didn’t think he’d fully calm down until he took his aggression out on Clark. And what about Zemo, if he was really involved?

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” the doctor said, handing you a tissue before she checked your throat. When did tears fill your eyes again? “Are you experiencing any chest pains? Difficulty breathing?”

“I’m fine,” you whispered.

“And the man who did this to you, is he-”

“I’m handling it,” Bucky said, leaving no room to argue.

The doctor barely concealed a sigh, the only crack in her cool demeanor. “Understood,” she whispered, finishing her exam. Maybe she was aware of some of what Bucky did, but didn’t approve. “No broken bones or anything of that nature, but you may feel sore tomorrow. Do you have any allergies?”

“I’m not allergic to pain meds if that’s what you're asking.”

“Well, I recommend you rest tomorrow. If you start to feel anything out of the ordinary, I want to know right away so we can take you to the hospital if necessary.”

You sighed. If the doctor was telling you to rest, there was no way Bucky would let you out of the penthouse for work. “I’ll rest tomorrow.”

“And could someone please get her a snack and some water? I’d like to make sure she can keep food down,” she said.

“I’ll get it,” Bucky offered before Curtis could move.

Dr. Cho leaned in a little once Bucky left the room. “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything at all?”

Her voice was quiet, casual, but there was something in her eyes that said she wasn’t just asking about this incident. Was she trying to help or was this a sick test to prove your loyalty? With Curtis nearby and being in Bucky’s penthouse, you wouldn’t risk it. “I just want to get some rest and recover from what happened,” you answered.

The doctor nodded after a minute. “If you do want to talk-”

“I got your favorite,” Bucky announced, deliberately inserting himself between you and Dr. Cho. “So, she’s okay by your standards?”

“Yes, overall,” she said after a moment. “But I want to make sure-”

“I’ll make sure she can keep food down and I’ll call if anything changes,” he smiled, nodding over to Curtis. “He’ll show you out.”

You furrowed your brows. Why was he dismissing her so swiftly after making such a fuss over having you looked over? “I appreciate you taking the time to come here. Thank you.”

The doctor gave you a smile as she packed up. “You’re very kind,” she said, daring to look at Bucky again. “I’ll be expecting a call if anything changes.”

Bucky’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “My girl is a lot stronger than she believes herself to be, but I take her health very seriously. If something changes, you’ll know.”

Tension spiked before the doctor gave you a nod and brushed past Curtis. The man quickly turned to follow her, leaving you and Bucky alone once again. “Do you have a problem with Dr. Cho?” you asked.

“No, I don’t. She’s one of the best doctors there is. I think she has patched us all up at some point,” he answered, bringing the snack to your lips and smiling once you took a bite. “But she’s similar to you in a sense that she has a good heart, so she isn’t always comfortable with some of what goes on.”

That could’ve been why you sensed that she wasn’t just asking you about this evening. Maybe she was looking for a way to help. “Do you trust her?”

“I trust that she’ll do what she’s told,” he replied.

You had trouble swallowing the next bite at those words. People were under his thumb whether they wanted to be or not. “From the little I know of her, she seems like a good doctor.”

“Always seeing the best in everyone,” he smiled. That wasn’t going to change. “Can I show you something now that you’re home that’s kind of important? I can carry you if you can't walk.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I think I can manage. What would you like to show me?” you asked. If he pulled his pants down…

He made sure he had the rest of the snack and water in one hand, helping you up with the other. “Do you remember how I said last night that I didn’t want you wandering into the den because I was having it redone?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. You hadn’t gone off to explore anyway since you went to the living room and ended up riding his thigh.

“Well, it was pretty much done. Before I beat the shit out of the guy following us this morning, I had one last finishing touch done,” he explained, slowly walking you down the hall. “Are you feeling okay? It doesn’t bother you to walk?”

“I’m fine,” you said, almost forgetting that he had already beat someone up today. It seemed so long ago. “But I don’t understand why you’re showing me this if I should be-”

He pressed a finger to your lips. “Close your eyes, Kotyonok. Please.”

Taking a breath, you let your eyes close and gasped when his lips touched each eyelid. You let him take your hand and guide you forward. And wasn’t this how it had been since the beginning? Doing what Bucky wanted even when you fought it?

“Open your eyes,” he whispered.

It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the brightness in the room. Your heart swelled as you looked around, the warm glow making you smile. Books lined the walls, and the couch and chairs were tailored to your comfort and style. There was even a nook by the window and blankets.

“You…” You blinked away the sudden tears.

Bucky’s face fell. “I promise I’m not trying to overwhelm you. I only wanted your day to end on a good note for you.”

It was meant to be a good day, and a wonderful time with your friends. “You built me my own library?”

“I wanted you to have a sanctuary in our home. A space just for you,” he explained, running a hand along the back of the couch. “None of my men are allowed in here and I have to ask permission before I come in.”

Your mouth fell open. Was he serious? “So, if I want to be alone and I come here, you can’t come in if I say no?”

He nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you want.”

You could hardly believe it. Was this space truly your own? “It’s beautiful,” you said, taking another look around. For a second, you felt like you were living in part of Beauty and the Beast. “Thank you.”

Bucky beamed at you, almost as bright as the light in the room. “There’s one more thing,” he said, setting the water and snack down. He pressed a discreet button by one of the shelves, which opened to reveal a metal door.

“Is that…”

“It’s a panic room,” he said, pressing four numbers into the keypad before that door slid open. “When I had the penthouse constructed, it was one of the first things I had put in. Can never be too careful, right?”

You slowly looked around. “So, you redesigned the room connected to the panic room to give to me?” you asked.

“I told you your safety matters above all else,” he said, holding a hand out for you. You took it after slightly hesitating. The fact that he gave up what was likely one of the safest rooms in the entire penthouse in order for you to have a sanctuary made your head spin. “I had the combination changed to your birthday.”

You took a look inside, your mouth falling open again. You weren’t sure what to expect, but the space looked like another small den. It had a couch, a television, a fridge and microwave. It even had a bed.

“You really are prepared, aren’t you?” you asked.

“Prepared, yes, but I had nothing to lose before,” he said, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. He barely grazed your skin, almost testing to see if you’d flinch. “I have everything to lose now.”

“Am I really worth that much?” you asked. More than the power he wielded, more than his wealth?

He leaned in and your heart raced, but you didn’t feel trapped. Not this time. “You’re worth everything and more,” he whispered.

“Boss?” Curtis called out from the hall before Bucky could kiss you.

You dipped your head down, both of you letting out a breath. “I should finish my snack and get some rest,” you said. You needed it. “But, really, thank you. This is very special to me.”

It didn’t make up for what happened, but maybe it was a start of something new. You didn’t want to dwell on that tonight. You were too emotional, too tired, too vulnerable.

“I want you to be happy here,” he whispered, opting to kiss your forehead since your lips were out of reach. “I should see what Curtis wants.”

“Oh, I want to say something to him,” you said, pulling away from Bucky before he could stop you. “Curtis?” you asked, spotting him just outside of the den.

The man leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say thank you for helping me tonight,” you said. He looked stunned. Did Bucky or the others not express gratitude toward him? “I don’t know if I can ever repay you for that.”

“Nothing to pay me back for.” He cleared his throat. “Just doing my job.”

You smiled softly. “Do you like brownies? It isn’t much, but I do make a decent batch of brownies and it would be a small token of gratitude.”

Curtis and Bucky both looked stunned. “You’re offering him brownies?” Bucky asked, glaring at the other man. “I haven’t had her brownies yet.”

“I like brownies,” Curtis said.

You smothered a giggle when the dangerous man pouted. “Oh, don’t pout. I didn’t say you wouldn’t get any. Curtis just gets the first try,” you said, poking Bucky’s arm. “And maybe I haven’t had a chance to make them because you’ve been so busy tailoring my schedule to your liking.”

“I like her, boss. She’s a keeper.”

Bucky breathed through his nose. “Why the fuck did you call for me?”

“Thor’s getting antsy.” He rolled his eyes. “Wants to know when you’re heading over.”

“I can’t leave you by yourself and I don’t want to drag you to the club,” Bucky said.

You knew he wouldn’t leave you alone and there was no way he would leave Curtis or Ray or another man there with you, at least not tonight. “What about Natasha? Can she come over? If not, maybe I can get a nap in the club office.”

“But-”

“You said for them to shut the club down, so it’s not like music or the lights will bother me. And this way I’ll be close by,” you said. And it wasn’t like they’d beat Clark up right in front of you.

“Maybe,” Bucky said, flexing his fingers when his phone went off. “If that’s Thor…”

You could hear his teeth grind as he read the screen. “What is it?”

“It’s Zemo,” he said, your stomach dropping. “And he wants to talk.”

How long before Bucky answers Zemo? And what do we think of the library? Is he leaving you at home or taking you to the club? ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[lionneee]

Cherry Lips

Masterlist

Taglist

English is not my first language, please be kind

BestFriend!Mordern!Aemond x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

•Warnings: smut, taking of sexual themes, loss of virginity, piv, fingering, kissing.•

“You’re kidding!” She laughed as she looked at her best friend.

It was night, and they were sitting on the sand, looking at the ocean with a bowl of cherries between them.

“I’m not kidding! I bring one every time I get out, you never know!” Aemond chuckled as he threw another cherry in his mouth.

“How exactly do you expect to love your virginity that you think about putting a fresh condom in your pocket every time you get out?” She laughed as she watched him raise his shoulders with an amused smirk and throw another cherry in his mouth.

“You’ll choke on it if you keep throwing them in your mouth like that.” She scoffed but was still smiling.

“Sorry, mom.” He smirked as she jokingly pushed her shoulder.

“Seriously though, I can’t wait to have a boyfriend. I want to have sex so much.” She whined as she grabbed a cherry and put it in her mouth. Aemond hummed in agreement.

“Yeah, if I don’t have sex in a while, I’ll suck at it forever. Girls want guys who know what they’re doing. It’s easier for you.” He looked at her with an amused smile, even if he was actually speaking his mind.

“I don’t think it’s about what guys can do.” She said as she leaned back on her hands. “It’s about feeling safe, I guess.” She looked at her feet as she dug under the sand with them.

“It’s frustrating! Every guy I’ve been with wanted to have sex so soon, and… I never felt like it. How am I supposed to have sex with my hypothetical boyfriend if I’m always nervous around them?” She sighed.

“I know.” He laid back, looking at the dark sky and the visible stars. “Maybe we still haven’t found the right person yet.” He hummed. She groaned and let herself fall back to lay beside him.

“It’s shitty.” She commented. Aemond smiled and nodded in agreement. “I just want someone that… I know I’ll be comfortable with, even after the act. That if I mess up because I don’t know anything it will not cringe away but make me feel okay, not embarrassed.”

“I’m sick and tired of being a virgin.” Aemond broke the serious moment with a groan. They both chuckled.

She turned her head to look at him, amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Yeah? You gonna put that condom in your pocket to good use anytime soon?”

Aemond smirked, tilting his head toward her. “You never know. Maybe the opportunity will present itself when I least expect it.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade. “Well, I hope whoever it is makes you feel comfortable too.”

Aemond turned onto his side, propping his head up on his hand as he studied her face. “What if it’s someone you already feel comfortable with?”

She frowned slightly, not immediately understanding what he meant. “Like a friend?”

“Yeah." He said, his voice casual, but there was something beneath it, something hesitant, something testing. “Someone you already trust. No awkwardness, no pressure. Just… figuring it out together.”

She blinked, processing his words. The thought had never crossed her mind before, not really. But as she looked at Aemond, his familiar face, the way he could make her laugh even in frustrating moments, it didn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.

“You mean like… us?" She asked cautiously.

Aemond shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I mean, we both want to get it over with, right?” He hesitated, watching her reaction. “And we both want to feel safe.”

She bit her lip, looking up at the sky as her heart beat just a little faster. “That’s… not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

He let out a chuckle, but it was softer this time, almost nervous. “No pressure. Just a thought.”

She turned her head to look at him again, searching his face. “Would it ruin things between us?”

Aemond’s smirk faded, and his expression grew serious. “I don’t think so. You’re my best friend. I’d never want to make you uncomfortable.”

She swallowed, a warmth spreading through her chest at his words as he laid back on the sand.. “Same. And we'll stay friends after we…”

“Of course.” He agreed, looking up at the sky.

For a moment, they just lay there, staring at the stars, the sound of the waves filling the silence. Then she exhaled, shaking her head with a chuckle.

“Well, at least we know one thing for sure." She said, reaching for another cherry.

Aemond arched his brow, turning to look at her. “What’s that?”

She popped the cherry into her mouth and grinned. “You’ll definitely have a condom ready.”

He groaned, rolling onto his back as she laughed beside him.

Once their laughs dissipated, they were left in a strange silence. Despite her agreeing to Aemond’s proposal, none of them made a move.

She chewed on her lip, staring up at the stars, her mind whirling. The idea had seemed so simple when they were joking about it. But now that it was hanging between them like an unanswered question, she wasn’t sure what to do next.

Aemond exhaled sharply, breaking the silence. “This is weird, isn’t it?”

She turned her head to look at him, and when she saw the faint nervousness in his expression, she felt a little relieved. At least she wasn’t the only one feeling this way. “A little." She admitted with a soft laugh.

He hummed, folding his arms behind his head. “I mean, we don’t have to do anything. It was just a thought.”

She hesitated, considering his words. “But… Do you want to?”

His jaw tensed for a second, as if he was debating something internally. Then he turned his head to meet her gaze. “Yeah." He said honestly. “But only if you do too.”

There was something about the way he said it, no teasing, no smirking, just simple sincerity, that made her heart flutter.

She swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of how close they were. The warm night air wrapped around them, the ocean waves whispering in the background. It was just them, alone on the sand, like always. But somehow, it felt different now.

“I don’t want it to be weird after." She murmured.

“It won’t be, I guess." He assured her. “Not unless we make it weird.”

She let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “That sounds like something someone would say right before it gets weird.”

Aemond chuckled. “I mean it." He said softly. “We’ll still be us.”

She studied him for a long moment, then she turned back to look at the stars. 

“Okay.” She said suddenly.

His eyes flickered to her lips for a brief second before meeting her gaze again. “Okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Again, no one moved, and they fell right back into their previous silence.

She couldn’t stop thinking, whether she should make a move, or say something, or kiss him.

But her body refused to move.

“Should we start with a kiss?” He asked carefully, stealing a glance at her.

She swallowed, nodding slowly. That seemed… reasonable. A low-risk way to ease into whatever this was.

“Yeah." She agreed as she laid on her side to face him.

He turned towards her, his gaze flickered to her lips before meeting her eyes again. He didn’t move right away, giving her the chance to change her mind. But when she didn’t, he leaned in, slow, deliberate.

The moment his lips brushed against hers, she felt her breath catch. It was soft, barely there, but enough to make her stomach flip.

Aemond pulled back an inch, searching her face. “Still okay?”

She blinked, licking her lips as if trying to process the feeling. “Yeah.”

His lips quirked in the faintest of smiles before he leaned in again, this time pressing a little firmer, letting it last just a second longer.

Her eyes fluttered shut as warmth spread through her chest. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… nice.

When they pulled apart, she exhaled, opening her eyes to meet his, licking her lips.

His lips tasted like cherry.

“Still not weird?" He asked, hesitation in his gaze.

She shook her head. “Not weird.”

Aemond nodded. “Good.”

For a moment, they just lay there, staring at each other, the sound of the ocean filling the space between them. 

Aemond leaned over again, this time when he kissed her, his tongue pushed gently, hesitantly against her lips, as if asking her to part them.

The sensation was strange, having his tongue in her mouth, or pushing hers in his, teeth clashing against teeth, the way he tasted, the exchange of saliva, was something she had never thought it would feel like.

But she liked it.

She put her hand on his cheek as she slowly raised herself on her elbow to deepen the kiss, their noses pressed against each other’s cheeks. Aemond let out a moan, a sound she never heard from him before, but that made her stomach clench in a strange way, and her thighs close tightly.

Aemond’s hand moved to her hip, slowly moving on her back as she pressed her against him. His other hand slipped in her hair, pulling her face closer from the back of her head, his tongue moving restless in her mouth.

Aemond’s fingers tightened slightly against her hip, his body pressing subtly into hers. The heat between them was building, slow but undeniable. She could feel his breath against her skin, the weight of his touch, the way his lips moved against hers like he was savoring the moment.

Her heart pounded as she let herself lean into him more, her own hands hesitantly exploring, fingertips ghosting over his jaw, then trailing down to the fabric of his shirt. He was warm, solid. Familiar and yet suddenly something else entirely.

Aemond pulled back just enough to look at her, his forehead nearly touching hers. His breathing was heavier now, his pupils slightly blown. “Still okay?" He murmured, voice low.

She nodded, her own breath shaky. “Yeah.”

He exhaled sharply, like he had been holding something back. “We can stop whenever, you know that, right?”

She swallowed, nodding again. She did know that. And yet, she didn’t want to stop.

Her fingers curled into his shirt, and she pulled him back down to her. This time, the kiss was different, deeper, more certain.

“You taste like cherry-“ He moaned in her mouth.

“You too…” She answered, slipping her hands in her hair, pulling him closer.

Aemond responded instantly, his hand slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, resting lightly against her bare skin. The contrast of the cool night air and his warm touch sent a shiver up her spine.

His lips moved to her jaw, then down to her neck. She gasped when he lingered there, his tongue tracing lightly against her skin.

Her back arched on its own, her legs spreaded, and Aemond wasted no time.

“Can I touch you?” He asked as he kept kissing the skin of her neck. She bit her lip at his question, nodding almost immediately.

Aemond groaned and slipped his hand under her pants and panties, searching desperately for her clit.

“Tell me where –” He looked up at her, his eye shadowed by a veil of pure desire.

“A bit lower- Ah!” She moaned as he found it, his fingers flicking it roughly. Aemond immediately looked back up at her from his hand.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concerned, stopping his hand for a moment.

“I’m fine…” She panted. “That felt good. P-press there-” She gasped as he applied the right amount of pressure. “Nor rub, not too fast.” 

Aemond nodded, looking back down at his hand as he did as she instructed, rubbing his fingers on her pearl. After he took the pace, he looked up at her, finding her with her head thrown back, silent cries escaping her lips, her back arched and her brows furrowed in pleasure.

He never expected that a sight like that could turn him on that much.

His cock was straining against his pants, begging for attention, so he slowly rubbed it against her tight, to alleviate a bit of lust.

“Can I slip them inside?” He didn’t realize it until he spoke, but he was breathing harder. He watched her closely, and when she nodded, he trailed two of his fingers lower, until he met her entrance. “Are two okay?” He asked, restraining himself to just fuck her with her fingers until she would crate a whole different ocean under them.

“Yes-” She panted, and let out a moan as he slipped his two thick fingers inside her. Aemond groaned at her beautiful sound, leaning his forehead against hers, as he crooked his fingers, rubbing her inner walls, searching desperately for that spot he knew women had.

His head fell on her shoulder as he imagined how her tight walls could feel around his cock, squeezing him from every side, massaging him, warming him.

“Where is it?” He growled to himself, against her ear, making a shiver run through her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers digging on his back as she kept moaning.

Aemond smiled satisfied only when he heard her gasp, and moan louder, knowing he had found that spot. He kept rubbing it continuously, and when he felt her walls clenched around his fingers, his eye nearly rolled back.

He couldn’t wait to feel her, to know what her walls squeezing around him would feel.

“A-Aemond-” She panted, knowing she was close to the edge. She could feel herself tensing, and she knew she was going to experience one of her best orgasms ever.

His fingers moved faster inside her, and she had to cover her mouth to not moan too loud.

“I-I’m gonna- c-come —” She closed her eyes shut, wrapped her arm tighter around him, bringing him closer as her hips started to squirm, her legs trembling, and then, she let go, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her body, her back arching as Aemond slowed down his fingers and slowly slipped them out.

Once she was relaxed, she slowly let go of Aemond and unwrapped her arm from his neck, slowly opening her eyes and moving her hand away from her mouth.

She could see that Aemond was restraining himself. He kneeled between her legs, looking down at her as he opened his belt.

“I… I need to-” He panted heavily, his brows slightly arched in pain.

“I know.” She nodded and sat up, helping him lower his pants. He lowered them just enough to let his cock spring out, then he grabbed his condom from his pockets, opening the package and rolling it down his hard cock.

She tried not to look too much, but it felt almost impossible. The only dicks she had ever seen were in porns, but she swore that it was the biggest one she had ever seen, and she didn’t know if she should have been more agitated or excited.

Aemond placed his hand under her chin and kissed her gently, in a way that felt more like a promise that he wouldn't have hurt her rather than driven by simple desire.

He leaned back over her, forcing her to lay back on the sand, then he placed one hand beside her head, the other tugging her pants down impatiently. She helped him remove them, the slight breeze of the night making her shiver slightly, when in fact, she was hot all over.

“I’ll be gentle, just-” He fisted his cock a couple of times before rubbing his tip against her clit, finding it again with ease. She moaned softly and looked up at him, even if his eye was concentrated on looking at his cock so close to her cunt.

“Please, can I-” He groaned as he kept rubbing his tip against her. “Just the tip now, but–”

“Yes.” She said before he could even finish his sentence, she had never, ever felt more turned on than in that moment, and she too, couldn’t wait any longer.

Aemond bent his arm and rested on his elbow on top of her and kissed her as he gently pushed against her entrance. The stretch stung, but it wasn’t as painful as she imagined, or as she had been told. There was a strange edge of pleasure along with the pain that made her crave more.

She widened her legs as Aemond lift back just enough to look at her.

“More.” She panted, her hands moving to his hips to gently move him lower, his cock slipping deeper inside her. Her mouth opened and she arched her brows, taking a deep breath, her head falling back and she bent her legs as Aemond bottomed out inside her. 

“Y-you’re so tight—“ He groaned, a hint of surprise in his voice.

Her walls were enveloping everywhere, squeezing him, clenching as they adapted to the intrusion of his cock. He had to close his eye and try hard to not move, or even worse, come, but hell if it was hard when she felt so fucking good.

“It feels so fucking amazing—“ He dipped his head under her face, kissing her neck, trying to distract her from her discomfort.

“You feel good too…” She panted, her arms wrapped around his back, hugging him tightly. Aemond’s hand moved to her thigh, caressing it softly, raising his head to look at her.

They did it.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking at her in her eyes. She nodded.

“Yeah. Y-you can move…” She blushed as she said that and Aemond never loved an order more than that one.

He started pulling out, until only his tip would be inside her, then gently thrust forward, trying to caress her walls as carefully as possible, hoping she would quickly feel good enough to let him go faster.

She moaned, her face showing still a bit of pain, but it faded away as he kept rolling his hips slowly and gently.

It felt good, foreign, but wonderfully good. She felt extremely full, and she found herself getting addicted to the feeling.

“Aemond-“ She looked up at him. “Move faster…” She asked.

Aemond immediately sat up and complied, grabbing her waist tightly from under her sweater.

“Please tell me you’re okay—“ He growled as he tried to not go too fast for her. “You feel so fucking good-“ He growled, as he looked down at how his cock kept entering her again and again. He moved his hand to her clit, finding it immediately to her surprise, and he started rubbing it again just as she told him before, making her pleasure overpower the pain.

“Does it still hurt?” He panted as he looked up at her. She shook her head as her back arched, her hips rolling along with his thrust.

“Let me move faster—“ He panted. “Please- This feels so fucking good.” He growled. 

“Okay.” She nodded. “Okay, I’m fine-“ She couldn’t finish her sentence as he bent over her, starting to thrust harder as his arm wrapped around her head, his hand moved on top of it, keeping her against his shoulder as he kept rolling his hips, picking up the pace.

“Keep going, Aem-“ She moaned, her hands clenching on his shirt. “I love it—“ She cried out as she felt her orgasm growing.

“Yes. I fucking love it too.” He growled. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” He panted.

“Me neither.” She moaned as her back arched, her cunt clenched tightly as she felt the tension building inside her, ready to snap.

Aemond moaned loudly as he felt her clenching, the pleasure taking his body.

“Y-you’re tighter—“ He gasped and pressed her closer, thrusting faster, harder, more intensely. He was completely out of control of his body, he was letting himself get driven by the pleasure, the ecstasy that he was feeling, that she was making him feel. 

“Fuck!” He tried to keep his pace steady with his fingers on her clit, hoping she would come soon because he didn’t know if he would last much longer.

“Oh, Aemond-“ She moaned as she hid her face in his neck. His cock was brushing repeatedly on the same spot his fingers rubbed before, but along with the stretch, the knowledge that they were having sex, that he was inside her, made it all more intense.

“I-I’m gonna-“ She cried out.

“Me too.” Just as he said that, she exploded around him, clenching tighter around him as she moaned and jerked her hips. “Yes, fuck yes—“ He moaned as he came, his balls releasing the hot cum inside the condom, his cock getting massaged repeatedly by her walls, that were still spasming.

They stayed still for a long time, hugging each other until their breaths returned to normal. Then, he slowly, gently pulled out, noticing her wincing when she did.

“Are you okay?” He asked, stopping his movements and looking at her, worried.

She nodded.

“Yeah, just… a strange feeling.” She said, Aemond nodded and laid back beside her.

They laid in silence, their brains registering what just happened.

“Sex… sex is amazing.” She smiled, happy. Aemond chuckled beside her.

“It really is.” He laughed with her.

They quickly dressed back up and stood up, walking back to his car.

“Your condom really was useful in the end!” She laughed as she walked beside him.

“Told you.” He smiled and looked. He wrapped his arm around his shoulders, and he offered her the last cheery with his other hand. She smiled at it and took it, throwing it in her mouth.

“Careful. You might choke on it if you throw it in your mouth like that.”

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy @agoldenwoe @sapphirevhagar

[katebishopsbaefy]

prompt 16 with billie!! and maybe it’s the first time they’ve said i love you so it’s super romantic and fluffy🥹

prompt list

prompt masterlist

16) accidental i love you’s during sex

words: 1167

“Fuck… God, I love you…” she sighed out. She's not even realizing what she’s saying. What she’s admitting to. That it means everything to you.

After the most perfect date you could’ve asked for, you and Billie had been all over each other, so obviously you had to take things to the bedroom. You’ve fooled around a few other times, but this time felt… different. Especially because of what she said when you pushed her onto the bed.  “Wait… I-” she started as soon as you were hovering over her, making you pause. Did she not want this?

You sit up on your heels and look down at her for a moment. She doesn't look uncomfortable, or scared, or anything like that. She’s not that kind of person. But the hesitancy you see on her face makes your stomach drop. “What’s wrong?” you ask quietly. You’re aching to reach out and touch her, mostly out of instinct, to comfort her and make that look go away. To make her all giggly like she was a second ago. When she answers, though, you just get confused.

“I… I’ve never done this before,” she mumbles quietly, and looks away from your eyes. That confuses you even more. She’s usually so confident in herself, even when her words don’t reflect that. And you’ve definitely had sex before, so you have no idea what she’s getting at.

“...Never done what?” you ask quietly, and she picks up on the genuine confusion in your voice. The look in her eyes completely reveals what she’s thinking, though. She’s had sex, but she’s never been on the bottom. She’s never been touched. “...oh.”

“I- I’m sorry. Here, just switch with me, and-” she starts rambling immediately. You were having so much fun earlier, and she thinks she’s just ruined all of it.

When she starts to sit up to switch positions, you just push her back down on the bed as gently as you can. A quick shake of your head shuts her up. “Billie, it's okay. I swear,” you mumble softly to her, your tone dripping with sincerity. She hasn’t ruined a thing. If anything, you just feel a stronger urge to make sure she feels good right now. “Do… Do you still want this?”

After a quiet moment of letting her think, she nods silently, and you soften about as much as you have in your whole life. Your chest aches, but not in a bad way; she trusts you enough to let you touch her when no one else ever has. You just nod back, and press a soft kiss to her lips as you start to tug off her clothes, and she tugs off yours. You can almost hear the faint sound of a giggle coming from her. Maybe that’s just your imagination. But when you start kissing your way down her body, you’re sure you hear it.

You grip her hand as you part her legs, and look up at her one more time to make sure she's okay. The look on her face would never reveal that she’s never done this before. She looks so comfortable, so content, and it makes your heart soar that you get to do this with her. 

When she nods at you, you slowly lick up her core, just to give her a little taste. She grips her hand around yours a little tighter, and you can tell she’s doing just fine. You start to softly suck on her clit to let her get used to the feeling.

“Mmph- more,” she sighs out, and you grin against her core. Your hand squeezes hers to let her know she’s doing great, and you start flicking your tongue over her bud in the same way she’s done for you before. It's felt good for you, so you assume it’ll feel good for her. And based on her reaction, it definitely does; “Fuck… God, I love you…”

You almost don’t hear it. Maybe you were imagining it again, just like her giggles, but the way her eyes widen when she realizes just confirms that she did actually say what she said. And she meant it. It’s quite literally comical, the way she starts to go back and pretend she didn’t just admit she loves you. “Shit- I- I mean… uh… oh, that feels goooood…” she fake-moans, throwing her head back, but you can tell she’s just panicking from the way she peeks one eye open at you, like she’s checking to see if you believe her. You absolutely do not. It makes her stomach sink, but when you burst into a fit of giggles, she quirks a confused, but amused eyebrow at you.

“What feels good?” you ask amidst giggles, and she realizes she fucked herself over even more. You’re not even touching her anymore. In fact, you’ve completely sat back on your heels to look at her and her pretty blushing face. But when you see how genuinely nervous she looks, you soften, “...You love me?”

She’s about to shake her head and start denying it, but the look in your eyes melts her. You look so… hopeful, or happy, or anything that isn’t the disgust she’d been expecting. It makes her feel a little bit better, so she nods silently.

You really didn’t think you could get any happier tonight. You’d just had the perfect date, she trusted you to touch her for the first time, and now she was telling you she loved you? You could burst into tears. Happy tears.

But you don’t. Instead, you crawl your way up her body, and kiss her so softly that she melts under you. It’s nothing but gentle, loving, reassuring. Everything she needs to feel right now. She completely melts underneath your touch. After a moment, which could be a few seconds or a few hours, you pull away just enough to rest your forehead against hers. You want to make sure she’s looking at you. She already is. Your hands softly cup her cheeks, and you mumble so quietly, just as gently as your kiss, “I love you too.” 

And when you both immediately burst into a fit of giggles, you know you’re okay. She actually loves you, and you actually love her. You don’t think you could possibly love her any more than you do right now. 

After a few more sleepy kisses and soft giggles, you realize that you’d unintentionally edged her. It makes you giggle even more because she obviously doesn’t care, but you definitely do. You’re the first person she’s trusting to touch her, so you want to make sure she finishes. When you make your way back down her body to settle between her legs, she’s confused for a moment before a massive grin and more giggles erupt from her. She’s so beyond adorable. You can’t help but giggle back, and you mumble softly as you press a loving kiss to the inside of her thigh, “...Still wanna come?”

[deception-united]

hello fellow human

i wanna write smut but I suck at writing in general

Hi, thanks for asking!

Writing Smut

1. Describe, but don't get too poetic.

It's always important to have sentences that flow well and use descriptive language no matter what it is you're writing:

Ex: Rather than "He kissed her. She gasped. He touched her thigh," use more sensory language like "His mouth traced a slow path upwards, heat following in its wake. She exhaled sharply, fingers curling into his shirt" etc.

However, something I've noticed some writers tend to do is get too metaphorical with it, and as a reader, it frankly makes me uncomfortable when I read things like 'their bodies tangled together in mother nature's sexual slow dance' or idk.

2. Know your characters.

Smut isn’t one-size-fits-all. When writing a scene, consider their personalities, history, experience, and emotional state, and make it reflect that. For example, a shy character usually won’t become dominant all of a sudden unless there’s a reason; or a guarded character who typically resists vulnerability might be more awkward, unsure, or reluctant at first. Also consider their communication style (are they verbal? Do they tease? Do they hesitate or take control?) Bottom line is, make it more character-driven.

3. Avoid getting overly clinical.

Focus on sensory details rather than the mechanics: don't just list actions like a biology textbook. "He inserted X into Y" isn't hot—describe feelings instead (heat pooling in the stomach, the burn of a touch, hitch of breath, rustle of fabric, etc.).

4. Consent & power dynamics

Even in dark or rougher scenes or the wildest fantasy settings, it's important to have clarity on consent (unless the lack of it is the point). If your character's don't communicate at all, or if something feels off, the scene can easily turn uncomfortable or confusing. A character might want to be overpowered or controlled—but the reader should always know it’s wanted.

5. Word choices matter.

Avoid overly clinical words like "member", but also avoid purple prose. You don’t need to turn into a thesaurus and call it "his throbbing sword of love and desire" (please) but you also don’t want to be so vague that no one knows what’s happening. Overall, keep it natural; if you’re cringing while writing, reconsider.

6. Before & after

Have some buildup. If they go from casual conversation to ripping each other’s clothes off with zero transition, it’s gonna feel flat and likely confusing.

Aftercare is important as well. Once it's over, add a little moment of tenderness, teasing, a shared cigarette, something. Or maybe they don't bask in the moment and immediately get dressed like nothing happened and go their separate ways (it all depends on your characters, their relationship, and the narrative).

___

Aside from all this, it's important to get comfortable with writing first. If you feel like you suck at it, smut might not necessarily be the best starting point—you're not just describing bodies, but have to take into account the pacing, emotion, tension, flow of action, all that. You don’t need to be a literary genius, but it's good to have some sort of a foundation. If you feel unprepared, try practicing with writing simple, mundane scenes, like a character drinking coffee or two people arguing over something petty. If you can describe that in an engaging way, describing more complex scenes will seem much less daunting. Critically reading similar scenes to what you want to write in books or fanfics can also help gain a better grasp of the whole thing.

Hope this helped! Happy writing ❤

[eumppattv]

MEET CUTES ᯓᡣ𐭩 OT7 ｡𖦹°‧

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ cute ways fate has you meet them

enha ୨ৎ reader fluff headcanon masterlist engene zone

heeseung ⊂⊃ gaming cafe

you needed a day of relaxation, of doing something you loved- and gaming was just that. you made your way to your favorite gaming cafe, ordered some food and got to business. in walks heeseung, finding an empty spot beside you. first he’d look over slightly to see what you were playing, and then he leaned in until you couldn’t ignore him. after some small talk and a couple rounds together, he had asked for your number so you could “play” in the future. you would then become his long term gaming partner.

jay ⊂⊃ cooking show audience

jay was ecstatic when he found out he won a chance to be in the audience of his favorite cooking competition. making his way through the crowd, he was in search of his chair number. it so happened that your chairs were right next to each other, and so small talk erupted between the two. little did you know, jay thought you were gorgeous, and he could barely focus on your words or the rest of the competition. his mind was all you, and anytime you talked to him he got red.

jake ⊂⊃ batting cages

you and your friend had decided to go down to the batting cages, a fun activity you like to partake in. you called ahead and chose a time, but when entering the next day, jake and ni-ki were already using the space. after a couple arguments, and a talk with the manager, you found out the space was double booked. jake suggested you all share the space- leaving your friend and ni-ki 3rd wheeling. you ended up beating him, and let’s just say the rest is history.

sunghoon ⊂⊃ furniture store

tasked with decorating his own bedroom, sunghoon had made his way up to his favorite furniture store. he had been walking down the isles aimlessly, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw your body sprawled across a big bed. noticing his presence, you sat up, telling him you were testing the comfortability of the mattress. somehow, your trip ended with both of you laying on this bed, reviewing it to each other, until you were kicked out of the store. it was a great bonding moment that would kickstart your love story.

sunoo ⊂⊃ friends party

sunoo was no stranger to social events, and neither were you. you were only strangers to each other, because although you had many friends in common, you had never met. that is until sunoo made his way to the outdoor patio where you sat alone, needing a breather. he approached you, taking a seat next to you- and the conversation flowed perfectly. you realized you were very alike in mindset and personality, so it was only natural for you to fall for each other as this “friendship progressed.

jungwon ⊂⊃ late night walk

jungwon often likes to clear his mind by going on walks, no matter the time. on this particular night, he had been strolling down a trail around a park, when he noticed you a couple feet ahead, seemingly lost in your own thoughts. he noticed your steps slow down, until he was pretty much right beside you. that’s when he saw the tears sliding down your cheek, prompting him to quickly rise to action, asking you if you’re okay. the night was then spent with him comforting you, a stranger, and both of you unknowingly falling in love with each other.

ni-ki ⊂⊃ clothing store pop-up

you and ni-ki were two strangers, connected by your love for fashion. there was a week where your favorite streetwear brand was doing a pop-up store near your neighborhood, so of course you decided to go. walking in, you find your favorite hoodie and quickly go to grab it, until you feel another hand on yours. ni-ki has reached for the same item, and you were both left staring into each other’s eyes until he retracted his hand, reluctantly giving you permission to take the hoodie. while he didn’t get what he wanted, he did mange to walk out with your number.

want to get notified when i post?

join engene zone here!

𐀪𐀪 taglist 𓂃 𓈒𓏸 @kpoprhia @haechansbbg @yeehawnana @aishigrey @dior-girlie @gigification @wonnie-avenue @httpsneptvnn @dimplewonie @lovelingkam @ikeuluvr @lovelingkam @freaky-enhamadswriter @lynilla @watamotee33 @danlovestay @gweoriz

[woso-story]

Better Boyfriend Than Him - Part Four

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Orher Parts

The morning light filters through unfamiliar curtains, soft and golden, but it does little to ease the pounding in your head. You blink a few times, trying to make sense of where you are. The sheets feel different, the bed feels different—and as you take in the room, it becomes painfully clear. This isn’t your bedroom.

You sit up slowly, your heart racing. Where are you?

The room is neat and minimalistic, a few personal touches here and there: a stack of books on the bedside table, a neatly folded blanket on the chair by the window. Then, your eyes land on a photo on the wall. A picture of Alexia and her family.

It hits you like a freight train. The club. The dancing. Alexia. And…kissing? Did you kiss? Your mind is a foggy mess, and no matter how hard you try to piece it together, the memories blur like smudged paint on a canvas.

The sight of Alexia’s picture sends a jolt of panic through you. You glance down at yourself, tugging the blanket up before peeking underneath. Relief washes over you—you’re still dressed in your clothes from last night. Thank God. But the relief is fleeting. The bigger question still looms: What happened?

You need answers, and you need them now.

---

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, your bare feet touching the cool hardwood floor. The apartment is quiet—eerily so. As you step into the hallway, the unfamiliarity of the space only heightens your anxiety.

In the kitchen, you find a note on the counter.

Had to leave early for a shoot. There’s coffee and breakfast if you want. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.

– Alexia

Breakfast? The thought makes your stomach churn. You lay the note back down carefully, as if touching it too much might make the situation worse.

Your only thought now is to get out of here. You can’t face her—not until you figure out what happened. But instead of heading home, you realize there’s only one place you can go where you might get the answers you need.

---

You knock on their door with a sense of urgency, your hand hitting the wood harder and faster than necessary. When Ingrid opens the door, her expression shifts from confusion to surprise.

“You’re up early,” she says, stepping aside to let you in.

You don’t bother with pleasantries, marching straight into the living room where Mapi is lounging on the couch, Bagheera sprawled across her lap. Without a word, you drop onto the couch beside her. Bagheera stretches lazily before padding over to you, curling up and nuzzling your hand.

The small comfort of the cat’s presence calms you, but only slightly. Ingrid enters the room, placing a glass of water on the coffee table in front of you.

“Thanks,” you mutter, taking a sip before looking up at them both.

“What happened last night?” you ask, your voice quieter than you expected.

Mapi’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

You let out a shaky breath. “I woke up at Alexia’s this morning. I don’t remember how I got there. I don’t remember anything after…” You trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

Mapi’s lips twitch into a grin, and she leans back against the couch. “What do you think happened?”

“I’m serious, Mapi,” you snap, your voice tinged with desperation.

Ingrid senses your distress and gives Mapi a look. “Stop teasing her,” she says gently before turning to you. “You were really drunk. After the fight with Luis, we didn’t think it was a good idea to send you home alone. Our guest room is still full of boxes, so Alexia offered to take you back to her place. That’s all.”

You exhale a shaky sigh of relief, though the tightness in your chest doesn’t fully dissipate. “I don’t remember any of that,” you admit, staring down at your glass of water.

“Maybe you don’t want to remember,” Mapi says, her voice softer now but still tinged with curiosity.

You glance at her, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You and Alexia were… close last night,” Mapi says, choosing her words carefully.

Your heart skips a beat. “Close how?”

“You were in a kissing mood,” Mapi says bluntly.

Your stomach drops, and you look away, ashamed. “Did we?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

Mapi shakes her head. “No. Maybe it looked like it for a second, but nothing happened. Alexia wouldn’t do that. She knows you’re with Luis.”

Her words are meant to reassure you, but they don’t. Not entirely. Because deep down, you know the truth.

You wanted Alexia to kiss you.

---

The room is quiet for a moment, save for the soft purring of Bagheera. You run a hand over your face, trying to process everything.

“What’s going on with you and Alexia?” Mapi asks, breaking the silence.

“Nothing,” you reply automatically.

Mapi raises an eyebrow, unconvinced.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know,” you admit. “She frustrates me, but last night… After the fight with Luis, I had fun with her. It felt good to spend time with her.”

Mapi studies you carefully, and you can tell she’s holding back something.

“It looked like you wanted her to kiss you,” she says finally.

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. You open your mouth to deny it, but the words won’t come. Instead, you sit there, staring at the glass in your hands as the truth sinks in.

You wanted Alexia to kiss you.

The realization leaves you breathless. If you wanted Alexia to kiss you, what does that mean for your relationship with Luis? What does it mean for you?

“Do you want her to kiss you?” Mapi asks directly.

The question hangs in the air, heavy and unrelenting. Your instinct is to say no, to cling to the safety of your current relationship. But something holds you back. Something deep inside that you can’t ignore.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, the words sounding foreign to your own ears.

Mapi doesn’t say anything, but the look in her eyes tells you she already knows the answer you’re too scared to admit.

[pedroscurls]

stranded (one-shot)

summary: your car breaks down on the side of the road and a stranger decides to help you out... and you have no choice but to accept his help.

pairing: no outbreak/dark!joel miller x fem!reader content warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ ONLY MDNI), DUBCON - please read at own risk / heed warnings!, stockholm syndrome, unprotected p in v, rough sex, manhandling, oral sex (m receiving), orgasm denial, begging, creampie, joel ties you up, spanking, light choking, fingering, age gap (reader is in 30s, joel is in 50s), no use of y/n. word count: 5.1k a/n: and here's yet another story where i'm stepping out of my comfort zone. i've always wanted to write dark!joel, but felt like i couldn't do it justice... but then ali's (@pedgito) hosting a writing challenge (spring fever) and i figured... why not? i chose backwoods horror #1 STRANDED/SIDE OF THE ROAD. please heed the warnings, y'all. this is gonna be very dark and filthy, so if you're not into that sort of thing, that's ok!

You had no idea what you were thinking—taking a solo cross country road trip after quitting your job. Maybe you thought that you’d find yourself, find some kind of purpose that was lacking in your life, but instead, you’re stranded on the side of the road. Gas empty, no cell service, and phone already on its last battery. 

This is where you’re going to die—you’re sure of it. It’s how all horror movies start and despite the sun still high in the sky, you’re increasingly getting worried about what could happen when night falls. You scream at the top of your lungs, the sound echoing through the vast empty void. 

God, no one would hear you scream for help if you were in real danger and that thought simply frightens you. Your friends had all but praised you for this trip—this journey to self-discovery and reflection. Your parents, on the other hand, had already been concerned when you said you would be alone on this trip. A woman, traveling the world by herself? Well, that’s just asking for trouble, they said. 

And now you understand their concern. You understand their fear about you traveling all alone because of where you are now—in the middle of fucking nowhere. You should have refilled your gas when you had the chance, should have charged your phone while you were driving. Should have, should have, should have. 

10%—your phone reads. You try to send a text to your parents, to send them your location, but every attempted text just comes back with the message in red text and an exclamation point next to it: NOT DELIVERED! You raise your phone in the sky, hoping that maybe you’ll get one bar of service, but no luck. 

The trip had been successful, up until this point. You were in Texas, that you were sure of. But where in Texas? You had no fucking clue. 

You lean against the side of your car—the sun glaring down at you and you can feel a thin sheet of sweat on the side of your neck. Why did you think this was even a good idea? Traveling cross country without a plan—how fucking naive. 

Your battery drains fast and your phone finally shuts off. You let out a quiet sigh of frustration and open the passenger door of your car to toss your useless phone inside. Just as you’re about to climb in, you hear a faint noise of a car engine. Suddenly, you feel hopeful—maybe you won’t die here after all.

The sudden excitement that you feel overpowers the possibility that what you’re doing is absolutely dangerous. You’re waving your arms in the air, trying to track down the person in the car who’s making their way in your direction. It’s possible that this person whose truck is slowing down as it nears you could very well be a serial killer, but what choice did you have? 

The truck pulls up behind your car and quickly, you run over to your savior. Your hero. 

“Hi. My car’s dead, my phone’s dead, and I just need a lift to the next gas station... Or any place where I can use a phone to give someone a call,” you blurt out, breathing heavily. 

He turns his head slightly in your direction—eyes gazing at your face, then down to your shoulders and the rest of your body that he can see from the driver’s side. You’re leaning against the opened window of the passenger side of the truck. You don’t belong here, he knows that for sure. 

“Next gas station is in the next town over,” he finally answers. 

“Could you give me a lift there? I can pay you. Let me just grab my things and—”

“No need,” he interrupts, voice low. “I’m headin’ in that direction anyway. Get in.”

You grin and Joel’s jaw ticks briefly. God, you’re beautiful and it’s truly been a long time since he’s been with—

“Promise you won’t kill me?” you laugh, climbing into his truck and interrupting his thoughts. 

Joel finally takes in the rest of your frame and can immediately feel his length stirring beneath his dark jeans. His hands grip the steering wheel to ease some pressure, but you’re still talking and you’re laughing and it shoots straight to the center of his pants. It must be his lucky day. 

“If I were to kill you, I don’t think I’d be confessing that, darlin’,” he answers—the corners of his lips lift slightly. Oh, you had no idea what you just got into by climbing into his truck. 

“Right,” you reply. “That’s a good point.” You look at him—taking note of his damp hair that’s slicked away from his face, his broad frame, salt and pepper patchy beard. You realize that he must be in his fifties, but you can’t help but notice how handsome he is. That’s a good sign, you think. He won’t hurt you. He’s going to drop you off in the next town and hopefully, you’ll be able to head back home in the morning. 

“I’m guessing you live around here?” you ask, feeling the truck move back onto the main street. You glance out the window, watching your car become smaller and smaller as Joel drives further away from it. 

“Yeah,” he answers. “Guessin’ you ain’t from around here.”

“That obvious?” 

He just nods. Joel needs to focus on the road ahead of him. He has to make it seem like he’s not a threat, like he’s not just about to take you directly to his home. His secluded home. 

You introduce yourself formally, telling him your name and turning your body to face him. “What’s your name?”

“Joel.”

“You’re a man of few words, aren’t you?” you smile in his direction and Joel glances at you from the corner of his eyes. 

“Not much to say.”

“Well, how long is the drive to the next town? If you don’t have music, I’m gonna end up talking. I don’t usually like it when it’s too quiet on a drive and—”

“It’s about fifteen minutes,” he interrupts. “Radio is busted.” 

“So talking it is then.”

“No use in talkin’ if we ain’t gonna be seein’ each other after this.” 

“I guess you’re right,” you answer with a sigh. You try to remain quiet, fidgeting with your hands as you stare out the window. Every few seconds or so, you glance over at him and you can’t fully read his expression. He’s so stoic that there’s a part of you that feels like an inconvenience to him. Maybe he should have just kept on driving. 

“How long were you stranded for?” Joel asks. 

“About a couple of hours. Couldn’t get reception to call someone.”

“Yeah, phones don’t work out here.” Joel shrugs. “You eat anythin’ yet?” 

You shake your head. “Skipped breakfast this morning to get on the road.”

“My place is just a couple of minutes away,” Joel says. “I need to grab a few things. Got some food and water for you,” he offers. 

You smile and reach out to rest a hand on his forearm. It’s an innocent gesture, but it makes Joel shift in the driver’s seat. Your touch is so soft, so gentle and he flexes his arm underneath your fingertips. “You’re sweet, Joel. That sounds great. I am starving.” 

Joel bites back a smirk. He’s got you right where he wants you. 

Your hand drops from his arm and there’s a subtle frown that settles on his lips before he pulls off the main road. Within minutes, Joel pulls up to his secluded home. When he shuts off the car, he looks over at you and you’re still smiling. 

“This is a cute place, Joel,” you tell him, climbing out of the truck. 

He follows you and rounds the truck until he’s standing behind you. His fingers itch to reach out to touch you—especially when you raise your arms over your head to stretch, the ends of your shirt lifting just above the waistband of your denim shorts. He wants to touch every inch of you and he lets out a quiet grunt when you accidentally fall back against him. 

“Sorry,” you say, looking over at him from over your shoulder. 

“S’fine,” Joel mumbles and then walks past you to walk towards his front door. He unlocks it and opens it for you, watching you step across the threshold as you look around with curiosity. 

“It’s very dark in here,” you point out, walking further into his home. You see a light switch on the wall and flip it on, illuminating his entire home. Surprisingly, Joel’s large hand encompasses your wrist in a tight grip. You let out a quiet gasp and turn around to look up at him—eyes wide, lips slightly parted. 

“You always like to make yourself comfortable in a stranger’s home?” he asks with a threatening tone. 

“S–sorry,” you whisper, trying to pull your wrist away from his grip but he doesn’t budge. His grip just tightens. “Joel, you’re hurting me.”

“Pretty little thing,” he mumbles, stepping closer to you. “It’s like you were waitin’ f’me out there,” Joel says quietly. 

“Joel—”

“Shh.” Joel brings a finger up to your lips and his eyes drift down, moving his thumb to brush against you. “Shh, baby.” 

“I think I want to leave now,” you answer. “I think I just want to head into town and—”

“Oh darlin’,” he grins. “Ain’t no town for at least another fifty or some miles.” 

“B–But you said—”

“Guilty,” Joel interrupts, turning you so that your back presses against the wall. He cages you in, hand still gripping your wrist as the other comes up to rest gently over your throat. “M’sorry I lied to ya.” 

Your eyes widen in horror, the realization finally hitting you like a freight train. You had spent most of the drive admiring him—his broad frame, his quiet and mysterious nature, his large hands that gripped the steering wheel, his husky southern accent—that you ignored the feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

This was a bad idea. 

Getting into his truck was a bad fucking idea. 

“I just want to go home,” you whisper. “Please just let me go home and—”

“Shh,” he repeats. Joel steps closer to you, his nose brushing against your own. “Gonna keep you here all to myself. Been a while since I had a little plaything like yourself.” 

You shake your head. “Please, I’ll give you all the money I have back in my car.”

“Don’t want your money. Want you.” 

“Joel—”

“Love the way my name comes out of your mouth, darlin’. Say it again.”

You shake your head, closing your mouth shut. You know you’re in danger, but you’re not sure why you feel a familiar wetness pool between your legs. Your body is responding to him—to this stranger… this handsome fucking stranger who can easily strangle you if he wanted to. 

“Say. It. Again,” he repeats.

“Joel,” you whisper. 

“Good girl,” Joel grins proudly. He drops his hand from your throat and releases his grip around your wrist. He stares into your eyes, searching for any hesitation or any inclination that you’re going to run and leave. He sees your eyes flicker to the front door and he narrows his eyes—his large hand once more coming up to splay against your throat. Joel applies just a bit of pressure and he watches your eyes go wide again. “Wouldn’t think about it, if I were you.” 

You beg with your eyes—apologetic and pleading for him to just let you go. “I’ll be good,” you mumble against his grip. “I promise. I–I’ll be good.”

“We’re gonna have a lot of fun,” Joel nods, releasing his grip around your throat. “And I bet if I were to reach between your legs, I’d feel just how fuckin’ wet you are f’me, won’t I?”

You shake your head in defiance. “N–No…” 

Joel lets out a chuckle. “Mmm, that so?” He tugs on the waistband of your denim shorts and pulls you to him. He’s so rough and there’s an excitement that courses through your veins. He tugs down your shorts and panties down your legs, looking down at your white lacy thong with a grin. He can see a blotch of wetness and brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply as he lets out a contented sigh. “I bet you taste fuckin’ good too,” he whispers. 

You suddenly feel self-conscious and your hands immediately move to try and tug down the end of your shirt to cover your lower half. Joel just shakes his head and grabs your wrists to pin them above your head against the wall. You squirm against his grip and he kicks your legs apart, stepping in front of you to keep them spread open. His free hand comes down and immediately runs the pads of his fingers across the length of your sex—your body betrays you because you let out a quiet whimper as you arch your back against his touch. 

“Wet,” he points out. “You like this, don’t you?” 

You shake your head. 

“Liar,” he chuckles. Joel wastes no time in sliding two of his thick fingers past your folds—your warm, tight, and so fucking wet that a large grin spreads across his lips. 

You squirm against him at the sudden and rough intrusion, eyes gazing up at him. His eyes are dark, filled with lust and more than likely sinister thoughts, but you can’t help but notice his grin and the cute fucking dimple that appears on his cheek. You shouldn’t like this, but your body is yearning for more. Yearning for him. 

Joel’s thick fingers plunge into you repeatedly—his other hand gripping your wrists so tight above your head that you’re sure there’s going to be bruises. You shut your eyes tightly, keeping your lips in a thin line and forcing yourself to stay quiet because you know that if you make a sound, it’s only going to fuel him further. 

His eyes stare deeply at you and you’re so wet that Joel’s fingers pump into you with ease. He can see you struggling against his grip and he leans closer, lips near your ear as he whispers huskily. “Lemme hear you, baby.” 

You shake your head in defiance, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. You suck in a breath when his thumb brushes against your clit and a quiet—almost inaudible—moan escapes your lips. 

“Ah, darlin’,” Joel grins, gently nipping at your earlobe. His grip around your wrists loosen just slightly and he’s distracted, yearning to pull more sounds out of you and it gives you just the right moment to push him away. You miss his fingers immediately, a loud squelch echoing the walls when his fingers slip out of you. 

With as much strength as you can muster, you shove him so hard that he stumbles backwards with a grunt. You look around haphazardly, eyes wide, heart beating out of your chest. You’re very well aware that your lower half is bare, but you think maybe you can make a run for it—you just need to grab his keys, run out the door into his truck and drive away. 

You glance over your shoulder and Joel chuckles. He fucking laughs at your poor attempt at running away because he takes three strides in your direction and takes a fistful of your hair. You let out a loud yelp and he’s already quick to bend you over the back of his couch—the edge of it digging into your lower abdomen.

You’re already trying to squirm away, but his grip in your hair tightens and pain rushes through you. You’re about to beg him to stop, to beg him to let you go, but you feel his free hand connect with your backside. The slap reverberates through your entire being and the sound of his hand coming in contact with your ass echoes through his quiet home. 

“You just got here, baby,” he growls—he doesn’t let up, your skin already reddening with each spank. “You can’t leave me yet.”

“I–I–” you mumble and your body reacts automatically, pushing back into him. “Please!” 

“M’gonna have to tie you up, I think,” Joel grins. “Just to make sure you don’t pull that shit again.”

Your ass is beginning to sting and you try to scramble away, but Joel pulls you upright against him. His large hands move to your hips, fingertips digging into you as he uses your body to rub his bulge against you. 

“I think you’re gonna feel real good around me,” he whispers into your hair, hand sliding over your abdomen and down between your legs. “You’re actin’ like you ain’t enjoyin’ this, but you’re so fuckin’ wet f’me.” 

He begins to circle your clit with the pads of his fingers and it causes your back to arch against him, hands darting out to rest on the edge of the couch. A loud moan finally escapes your lips and Joel lets out a low growl at the sound—he wants to hear more of it, craves more of it. 

“From the way you’re squirmin’,” he continues, “Makes me wonder if you’ve been neglected.” 

You shake your head—lying.  

“Oh? Got a boyfriend back home, hm?” 

You shake your head again.

“Poor little thing,” Joel mumbles, head dipping down to the side of your neck as he presses his soft lips against you. It causes a shiver to run through you—his soft lips and his rough beard. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m here now. I’ll take care of ya.”

You’re an absolute mess by the time Joel’s done with you. You’re lying on his mattress, hands bound by rope and attached to the headboard. You’re completely bare for him and he’s brought you to the edge of orgasm too many times to count that you’re practically begging for some release. 

His hands are surprisingly gentle when he settles himself back between your legs and it causes you to flinch. His fingertips brush against your hardened nipples, dark bruises already forming around it from his love bites—he liked to call it. 

“You’re soakin’ my sheets, honey,” he grins. 

“Then let me fucking come!” you retaliate with a huff. Your eyes go wide the minute it leaves your mouth and you’re already trying to scramble away from him, despite being all tied up. 

Joel laughs again. “You’re cute when you’re angry, baby… but let’s not forget who’s in charge here.” 

He finally pulls the ends of his shirt over his head and you lift your own head off the pillow to get a good look at him. There’s no way this fucking man is in his fifties—you shake your head of the thoughts that begin to fill your mind. He has you here held captive and you’re sure that he’s going to kill you once he’s gotten what he needed. 

But you can’t help it. 

Joel’s fucking gorgeous. 

Is this what Stockholm syndrome is? Attracted to your captor? Whatever the fuck it is, you’re squirming impatiently. There’s a dull throb between your legs, an ache, a need for him to give you what you need. 

And he smiles. The same fucking dimple that appeared earlier that day is now in full display because Joel knows he’s got you right where he wants you. 

“Gonna be a good girl f’me? No more fightin’ back?” Joel begins, reaching down to tug his boxers down his strong legs. Once the fabric is gone from his body, your eyes widen once more at the sheer size of him. Girthy. Leaking at the tip. You’re not sure if it’d fit inside of you and Joel notices a flicker of uncertainty flash across your features. “We’ll make it fit, baby. Don’t you worry.”

You whimper quietly in response, feeling him brush his rounded tip against your opening. You try to wiggle your hips down, yearning for more, but he just pulls back and shakes his head. 

“Please,” you plead. You bat your eyes at him, gazing at him under the rim of your eyelashes. It’s a poor attempt at begging, at looking innocent because you look anything but that. 

Joel just lets a small smile line his lips before he pulls away and mounts your upper half. You clear your throat—the size of him this close almost threatening. 

“Don’t be gettin’ shy on me now,” he growls lowly. “Been pleasuring you for a while now, so it’s only fair that you return the favor.” 

“I–I haven’t come yet. Please just let me come and I’ll do anything—”

Joel clicks his tongue and runs the tip of his manhood across your mouth, smirking at the sight of his precome now on your lips. “You ain’t the one in charge here.” He pushes his tip past your lips and lets out a low groan. One hand moves to grip the headboard ahead of him as his other hand keeps a steady grip around the base of his length. “Open wider f’me,” he whispers. 

You have no choice but to obey—parting your lips wider and feeling more of his manhood slide into your mouth. You can feel the corners of your mouth stretch due to his girth. It isn’t long before he pushes further into your mouth, feeling him hit the back of your throat and you gag almost instantly. Tears sting your eyes and he only gives you a few seconds to breathe before he pushes back into you. 

You squeeze your legs together, trying to alleviate some pressure that has been building and building between your legs and the pit of your stomach. You glance up in his direction only to see Joel with his head tilted back, chest and neck exposed, and his eyes completely shut. A quiet groan escapes his lips as he begins to move his hips forward and backward—you swirl your tongue around him, hollow your cheeks and it causes him to moan loudly. 

And fuck, it’s a beautiful sound to come out of him. 

He’s moaning. He’s deep in his own pleasure. 

And it’s all because of you. 

By the time he pulls out of your mouth, Joel’s eyes snap open to look down at you. Lips swollen, tears streaking down the corner of your eyes. You’re so distracted by your desire to come that you don’t realize what could possibly happen once he’s done with you. 

You’re going to die. 

Joel is going to fucking kill you. 

And this cross country road trip you had originally planned was a stupid fucking idea. 

Joel sees a look of fear flash across your features and it only makes him smile, makes his cock jerk at the sight of you. He moves down your body and settles himself between your legs again. 

“Gonna fill you up now,” Joel nods. “And you’re gonna lie there and take it like a good girl.” 

You nod. 

His hand comes up to grip your chin roughly, staring into your eyes. “Say it.” 

“I–I’ll be good. I’ll take it like a good girl and—”

Without warning, Joel pushes fully into you in one stroke. You feel your body jerk upwards at the sudden intrusion and you’re lucky that you’re so wet because while he slides in so easily, you can’t help but feel the painful stretch to give way to his size. Your hands try to wiggle out of the bondage, but the rope just digs further into your skin—it’s like he expertly tied you in a way that the more you struggle, the tighter it gets. 

Joel’s hand moves from your chin to cup your breast, thumb brushing against your nipple as he remains still for a moment. “Feel so good,” he whispers, head dipping lower to brush his nose against yours. He can hear you panting heavily, lips parted slightly. “Like you were made f’me.” 

Then, Joel pulls out to his tip only to slam himself back into you. He repeats this movement multiple times and your moans—the ones that you’ve tried so desperately to hold back—finally escape your lips and mix in with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours. 

The bed rocks against the wall—his thrusts are so rough and you’re sure that your entire body is going to ache for the next few days. 

That is if you’re still alive by then.  

One hand moves to your hip as the other moves to wrap around your neck. He applies a bit of pressure to cut off your oxygen and you gasp, eyes wide as you stare up at him. 

Begging. 

Pleading. 

Not for him to stop… 

…but for more. 

Joel grins at that and continues his thrusts, the sensation of your walls sliding along his length only urging him closer and closer to release. He can feel the tightness in the pit of his stomach begin to unravel and he pulls out, not yet wanting to be done with you. 

When Joel does pull out of you, he releases his grip around your throat and hears you take one deep breath. You’re breathing heavily and he looks between your legs—so fucking wet, so swollen and he taps your clit gently with the tip of his manhood only to see you squirm. 

You’re sensitive, he thinks to himself with a grin. 

“Joel,” you whisper. At this rate, you don’t care if you die. Having him bring you on the edge of an orgasm only to stop is worse, you’re sure of it. 

“Gonna keep you here forever,” Joel says with a dark gaze. “You’re mine now. You understand?” 

You clear your throat and nod slowly—anything to get him to make you come. “Y–Yes, yours.” 

“Doesn’t sound too convincing.” 

“Fuck, Joel! Please,” you beg. “I don’t care what you do to me, please just let me come…” 

Joel chuckles—dark, sinister. He leans down and lightly pecks your lips before he climbs off the bed to look at you from top to bottom. “Like I said, you ain’t the one in charge here.” 

Your eyes stare at him and you notice the way his manhood stands fully erect, glistening with your arousal. He follows your gaze and smirks, reaching down to tug on it. “This what you want?” 

You nod. “Please.” 

“So if I untie you, you gonna be a good girl and obey?” Joel contemplates, still stroking the base of his length. His hand doesn’t feel as good as being inside of you and he almost loses his resolve. 

But he doesn’t. 

Joel’s patient. 

“Y–Yes, please,” you plead once more. 

“Love hearin’ you beg, darlin’,” he grins. Joel slowly reaches over and begins to untie the rope around your wrists but he makes sure that his attention is focused on you. He needs to make sure that you’re not going to run again. 

Once the rope is finally undone, you roll your wrists and touch the bruises around it. You flinch and then look up at him—eyes still pleading. 

“One wrong move and I’m tyin’ you up again. You hear me?” Joel growls, seeing you move to sit up. You nod in agreement and he tugs on your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed with such force that you let you a quiet yelp. 

Joel flips you onto your abdomen and grabs your hips, lifting you up so that you’re now on all fours on his mattress. He comes up behind you and slides into you with warning—again. 

A loud moan escapes your lips and you fall forwards—cheek resting against his mattress, eyes fully shut tight, and your hands gripping the sheets so tightly that your knuckles turn white. 

“Feel even tighter this way,” Joel points out with a grunt. 

Your toes curl at his rough assault against you. It’s like he’s possessed, so territorial and so animalistic that his thrusts drive you further into the mattress. You wanted this, but you can’t help the pain that shoots through you at his size. Joel’s by far the biggest you’ve ever had and it wasn’t like you had a healthy sex life before this. 

“Fuck!” You scream, now trying to scramble away from him because it’s too much. He’s edged you for too long that you’re sure you can’t even get there—your body is humming and you can feel the familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach. You’re close and Joel knows. 

He laughs and grips your hips, pulling back onto him with such force that you arch your back. Joel grabs your arms and pins them at your lower back as he pulls your body forward and backward against him. He glances down and sees just how wet you are—the hair at his base completely damp from your arousal. 

“You wanted to come… then fuckin’ come,” Joel groans, pulling you up against his chest. He grunts into your ear as he keeps your arms pinned at your lower back. His other hand reaches around and dips lower to begin circling your clit against the pads of his fingertips. 

You moan so loud that it echoes throughout his home. Your head tilts back against his shoulder and he drags his teeth across the side of your neck—both your bodies now covered in a thin sheet of sweat. 

“J–Joel, I–,” a loud sob escapes your lips when you finally reach your orgasm. Your body shakes against his own and his thrusts don’t let up—still hammering into you from behind and using your slickness and tightened walls to bring himself closer to his own release. 

“Fuck,” he groans against you, releasing your arms and pinning you back onto the mattress. His hips sling against your own—Joel is literally fucking you into the mattress and you’re already so fucking sensitive that you try to move away. 

Fuck him. If he wanted to deny you of your orgasm, you can do the same to him. 

But it’s no use. Joel’s so much stronger and his large hands grip your hips so tightly that you feel pain from it. 

“S’cute,” he says in between thrusts. “Thinkin’ you can run away.” Joel grunts lowly, chasing his own orgasm. “Can promise you one thing, baby…” He slams into you once more and releases his warm seed into you—paints your tight and wet walls with his come. He leans forward, pushing further into you as his tip kisses your cervix. “You ain’t ever leavin’ me.” 

He presses soft kisses along your shoulder before he pulls out, watching with a smirk to see his come trickle out of you and down your legs. 

“You’re stranded, darlin’. Ain’t no one comin’ to save you,” Joel grins. “And I ain’t even done with you yet.”

[doomhands-jr]

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 16

Pairing: Delinquent!Noah Sebastian X Pastor's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, angst, religious themes, religious guilt

Masterlist

Thanks to @flowerynerds for the banner!

Thanks to @throughwoodsanddirt for the beta!

Buy me a coffee

_____________

 “I still don’t understand why it’s a sin,” you said, slamming the Bible down onto your father’s desk. 

It had been almost two weeks since you’d last seen Noah and each day had felt like trudging through mud. Your father had put you to work pouring over Bible passages and previous sermons with the goal of finding material he could use for upcoming church services. 

You knew it was actually his sly attempt to preach to you. He thought that if you read enough of the Good Word, it would convince you to come back to the “straight and narrow path.” In response, you used it as an opportunity to prove to him that the Church didn’t exactly uphold the teachings of Christ. 

Calmly, he looked up from his studies, raising an eyebrow while you paced in front of his desk. “I’m sure I don’t know to what you’re referring,” he said, voice mostly flat, with only the slightest twinge of impatience. 

“Being gay,” you said, throwing your arms out to the side. “I cannot find a single instance where Jesus said it was wrong.” 

Your father blinked once, slow, and his breath whistled as it left his pursed lips. “Are you implying that it was a woman who left those marks on your neck?” 

“I’m not saying I’m queer,” you said, rolling your eyes. Of course, he would make it personal as a way of side-stepping the point. “Just that I don’t think it’s wrong to be queer.” 

Your father huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back into his high-backed leather office chair. “Leviticus is very clear.” 

“Leviticus also says I can’t go out of the house on my period, but that doesn’t serve our capitalist agenda,” you said, not missing a beat. 

Your father rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure I like what that college of yours is teaching you. You young people think you know everything just because you learned a few fancy buzzwords.” 

“You’re pretending not to understand my point, and I know you do,” you said, tapping your foot impatiently while you stared him down. 

He sighed again, patience growing thin. “Look, there are many different interpretations of the Bible.” He spoke softly only because he didn’t want to be overheard by any church staff. If you were at home, you’d have been shouted at. “As someone who has dedicated my life to studying the Word, I choose to preach the interpretation that makes sense to me. If you don’t like it, by all means, become a pastor and preach your own version.” 

“Maybe I will,” you said with as much snark as you could. Not that you had much interest in that. You’d always been more comfortable working behind the scenes. But it still irked you that your father couldn’t see his own hypocrisy. 

“Okay, then. Are we done with this conversation?” he asked, taking his eyes off you and resuming the arduous task of pouring over his sermon notes. 

“Ugh! I guess,” you scoffed, throwing your hands up in defeat, and turning on your heel. 

“Go make yourself useful and assist the worship band,” he called as you were halfway out the door. “Cindy’s out sick this week and we’re down a vocalist.” 

Throwing your head back, you let out an audible groan as you stomped off to the main sanctuary. The last thing you wanted to do was join the worship band because it would mean interacting with Isaac, who was also home for the break. But you knew it was no use arguing with your father. He’d just find something more unpleasant for you to do. 

You walked into the sanctuary, head bowed low to avoid making eye contact. 

“Hey, there she is,” called Matt, the lead guitarist for the worship band. Everybody in the church liked Matt because he was known as the “cool” worship leader. He’d come of age in the ‘90s when grunge was all the rage, and still sported a blonde soul patch and an earring leftover from his rockstar days. Though his look was outdated, it suited him enough to earn your respect. 

Matt loved Christian Rock, and he brought that flavor to the praise and worship band, always opting for more contemporary songs. He’d had a band that did well about fifteen years ago. They’d signed with a label and had a single that became fairly popular in the Christian music scene, but failed to produce a second masterpiece. Matt came back to lead the praise and worship band, but you could still see evidence of his performance experience sometimes when he got on stage and the theatrics seeped out of him. 

You liked Matt. You thought he was maybe a little too steeped in the church culture, but you liked him regardless. 

“Hey,” you said, offering a shy wave. Isaac chose to stay silent, which was good. The less he talked, the more points he earned in your book. 

“I was just telling your father we could use your voice for the upcoming service,” he said. “Care to join?” 

“Sure,” you said. “What’s on the menu?”

“One Name,” answered Matt. “We’re singing it in a round, so we need several voices.” 

The coldness in your heart from your previous conversation with your father began to dissipate. Despite your anger with the church as a whole, you did really enjoy that specific song. For some reason, worship music still reached a part of you that sermons couldn’t. 

“Sounds good,” you said. You knew you were being less chatty than normal, but you didn’t have it in you to muster up false enthusiasm. Matt picked up on it—you could tell by the awkwardness that filled the air when you failed to match his energy, but rather than call attention to it further, you simply stepped up to the mic as Matt began to strum the chords. 

“You take high harmony. Isaac can take middle, and I’ll do low,” he said, strumming the intro chords a few times over so everyone could get the feel of the song. 

You launched into the lyrics, voices melding together in the seamless way they always have, and immediately you were hit with a wave of emotion you didn’t anticipate. 

That was the thing about praise and worship music—it was always written to incite as emotional of a reaction as possible. Something about the way the chords and lyrics and melodies came together always made the song feel bigger than it was. It filled the room, reverberating off the vaulted ceilings and swelling beyond its means. 

And right there, in the center of the room, somewhere between the stained-glass windows and the chandelier-like light fixtures, right in the middle of the sound, was something heavy. It flowed out of your mouth, carried by your voice and filled the space between the rafters. 

This song had never elicited that emotional response from you. Sure, you sometimes got emotional, but it was usually with gratitude for your salvation. You’d raise your arms up in praise and thank the Good Lord for blessing you. 

This wasn’t that. This was grief. 

You’d lost your faith in this place. You’d lost your faith in these people. They weren’t terrible, but they were caught up in so many spiritual falsehoods that it seemed impossible to solve all the problems within the congregations. This space, which once held the key to connection and community for you, now felt foreign. You were a stranger here, disconnected from your surroundings. 

It was more than that, though. Growing up, you’d truly believed that you were on the right side of morality, that you could trust your elders and that they wouldn’t steer you wrong. You’d believed that everyone cared just as much as they were supposed to about Jesus’s teachings, and were all universally committed to concepts like love and kindness. 

The knots that had tied you together since childhood were beginning to unravel before your eyes. You didn’t know what was real anymore, who to trust, or what to believe, and the weight of the unknown was crushing. You wished you could go back to the safety the church had provided you, but it no longer felt safe. 

You weren’t going to cry. You’d been doing quite enough of that lately, but your throat tightened and your voice broke, and suddenly the guitar cut out, leaving nothing but the sound of your hitched breathing. 

“Are you okay?” Matt asked. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew the exact look of concern and pity he was giving you just from his voice. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” you said, because how could you possibly convey everything that was wrong to someone who was still very much operating under the belief that everything he was taught was true? “I’m sorry, I just need some air.” 

Without saying goodbye, you walked down from the stage, past the rows of pews, and out into the foyer, heading for the bathrooms on the other side. 

You stayed there, wishing you could go home, but knowing you were trapped in the building without a ride for another few hours until your father decided to leave. 

The florescent bulbs overhead started to agitate the pressure that had already built up behind your forehead, so you shut off the lights, leaving yourself in total darkness so you could examine your emotions in peace. 

Never in your life had you been as emotional as you have been in the last few months. Part of you wondered whether or not you were going crazy. You felt yourself breaking down at the slightest provocation, and it was embarrassing. 

You’d thought about asking your parents if you could reach out to a therapist, since you were still banned from communication, but thought better of it. They’d insist you see a religious counselor. They didn’t trust secular therapists. You didn’t trust a religious one. You had a feeling they’d try to convince you to come back to the church rather than give you sound advice on how to handle all the problems you were having. 

Once you’d soothed your anxiety, you gave yourself an hour or so of stewing in your anger and frustration before you exited the bathroom and found Isaac sitting on one of the benches. Outside, the sky had grown dark, and you could see flecks of snow falling against the windows. 

“Matt went home,” he said into his knees, which were hugged against his chest, dirty Chuck Taylor’s perched on the edge of his seat. 

“Why didn’t you?” you asked. There was no attitude in your voice when you said it, just a genuine question. 

“Wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, letting his feet fall to the floor. “Are you?” 

Blowing out a slow breath, you meandered to the bench across from Isaac and plopped yourself down. 

“Maybe,” you said. “I’m not really sure.” 

The emotions of the day had lowered your guard, and you found yourself being honest, too exhausted to keep your defenses up. 

“Can I ask what’s going on?” he said. 

Isaac knew you weren’t attending church regularly on campus. He was aware there were issues, so there was no reason to lie to him. 

“I’m just…not happy with the church right now,” you said, “and I feel like I need a break from it.” 

Isaac sucked on his teeth, not responding immediately. When he did, it was slow and measured. “What’s got you so unhappy?” 

“I don’t want to say,” you replied, turning to the side and kicking your feet up to rest on the bench. 

“Why not?” he asked. 

“Because I feel like you’re going to try to convince me to not be angry, and I don’t want to spend what little energy I have defending myself.” 

“Noted,” he said. Isaac gathered his hair in a bun at the nape of his neck and secured it with a tie from around his wrist. You noticed it was getting almost as long as Noah’s and wondered whether it was intentional.  “Will you tell me if I promise not to try to convince you of anything?” 

You considered the offer. It would be nice to have someone to talk to about this, and you were short on options at the moment. Isaac certainly wasn’t your first choice in confidant, but there wasn’t anyone else you were in contact with who served as a better option. 

You scooted forward on the bench so you could lay down on it, feeling like you were suddenly in a therapist’s office. 

“There’s a lot of hypocrisy,” you began. “And it seems like nobody is interested in actually addressing it.” 

“If I ask what you mean, would that count as arguing?” he asked. 

You couldn’t help that the corner of your mouth lifted up for a moment. “As long as your intentions are just to understand.” 

“They are,” he said. 

“Like with the queer community,” you began. “Jesus teaches love and acceptance, but the church really seems to hate them.” 

“Sure,” Isaac said. “You’ve mentioned your feelings on that before.” 

“It’s more than that, though,” you went on. “I think I’ve been manipulated into behaving a certain way. I think they used the idea of going to Hell to keep me from living my life the way I want to live it. They made me afraid of God.” 

“Aren’t we supposed to fear God?” Isaac asked. 

“You said you wouldn’t argue.” 

“Sorry.” Isaac grinned and cleared his throat. “Let me rephrase that. I want to know why you are angry about fearing God.” 

You searched deep down within you for the words to describe what was really bothering you, struggling to articulate exactly what it was, until it stumbled out of your mouth. 

“That’s not what love is,” you said. “A loving relationship shouldn’t be based in fear.” 

You hadn’t realized it until now, but that’s exactly what it was. All your life, you’d been sold this idea that God loves you, but he’s also willing to punish you permanently if you fell short of his lofty expectations. Your relationship with your parents had been modeled after that, with you fearing their disapproval so much that you couldn’t risk exploring who you were, lest you find out you didn’t fit their idea of what a good Christian daughter was supposed to be. 

It wasn’t until you’d met Noah and formed a connection with him that you understood what love was actually meant to be. It was safety and acceptance. It was security. It was the freedom to be exactly yourself. 

That type of love was not something you found in the church. But how could you explain it to someone who had no idea what it meant to be loved in that way? 

Isaac let out a low whistle. “That’s a lot,” he said. 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Do you not feel the same way?” you asked. 

Isaac shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t have the same issues with that stuff as you do. My faith is really good for me right now. It gives me a reason to try to be better.” 

“I figured you wouldn’t understand,” you muttered, not sure why you bothered trying to explain it. 

“It’s not that I don’t understand,” he said. “I think your anger is valid. I just don’t share that anger. For me, it’s been a net positive.” 

“Well good for you, I guess,” you said, not bothering to mask your annoyance. 

Isaac clicked his tongue. “Are you upset with me for not feeling the same way you do?” he asked. “That’s not fair.” 

“I just don’t get how someone wouldn’t feel the same way,” you said, knowing you were letting your anger at the church cloud your ability to understand his side. “How can you support something that’s hurt so many people?” 

“Because it’s also helped so many people,” he said. “I mean, look at Matt. He was an alcoholic before he found God.” 

“He…what?” you asked, blinking back up at him. 

“Don’t tell him I told you,” Isaac said, voice dripping lower as though he was afraid of being overheard in the empty foyer.. “It’s not something that he broadcasts around. I mean, he doesn’t hide it, but he doesn’t want to be the subject of gossip either. But yeah. He was an alcoholic for several years. He says finding God was what allowed him to finally kick the habit.” 

You had no response to that, and Isaac took that as a signal for him to continue. “Or look at Cindy. Did you know she lost her baby at seven months pregnant? She says the only thing that got her through was her faith.” 

“I didn’t know that,” you said, feeling more and more like this was a humbling you were due for but didn’t want to receive. 

“Yeah, that’s kind of my point though,” he went on. “I get that you’re angry about some of the things the church has done, but rather than taking it out on everyone, why don’t you try actually doing something about it?” 

“I have,” you protested. “I’m talking to my dad about all this stuff. He won’t listen.” 

“So find someone who will,” he said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. 

Something about that finally broke through your defenses and struck a chord in you. Isaac was right. You were making excuses instead of finding solutions to your problems. It was so much easier to lump him and everything else about the church together and label it all as problematic. At least then you had a target you could direct all your anger and frustration at, and you could feel like you were right and justified when something else was clearly the enemy. 

But, you supposed, like all things, it was much more complicated. Maybe the church doctrine wasn’t so much an outright enemy as it was merely an obstacle. You thudded your head against the wooden seat of the bench a few times. 

“What do I do?” you asked. “I don’t even know where to start.” 

“I don’t know,” Isaac said. You looked over at him and the earnestness on his face only served to further humble you. It would be so much easier if you could claim he didn’t actually care about you and write him off as an enemy. “I don’t even really know what you’re going through.” 

Huffing, you sat up and started gathering your things. 

“Where are you going?” he asked. 

“I don’t know. To read the Bible I guess.”

______

As much as you hated to admit it, your conversation with Isaac served to shift your perspective. Yes, you were frustrated about your situation and you felt stuck in your circumstances, but you weren’t without hope. 

You could still affect change from within, even if you couldn’t do it through your father. Perhaps, it wouldn’t be from the top down, but from the bottom up. 

That night, you asked your father if you could volunteer to help with the children’s pageant. Every year, the church puts on a pageant meant to remind everyone of the true meaning of Christmas. It’s almost always a nativity scene play, and this year was no different. 

You had your issues with the adults—they were often jaded, cranky, and set in their ways, but the kids were sponges. They still had their faith in humanity and believed that everyone was equal in God’s eyes, and that love and kindness were the driving forces behind behavior. And while, at times, they tested your patience, you found that you connected with them much faster and easier than you did with adults. 

“What are you eating?” 

It was Michael. He was in second grade, with an overly round face, front teeth too large for his mouth, and narrow eyes. 

“Nothing,” you said, quickly hiding the kit-kat you’d been munching on. 

“Miss K said we’re not allowed snacks during rehearsal,” he challenged and you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“You should listen to Miss K,” you countered, raising your eyebrow. “Now go sit with your class.” 

“She told me to come talk to you. My costume has a hole in the arm.” He lifted his little arm above his head to show you where the seam had ripped right at the armpit. 

“You’re a shepherd, right?” you asked, bending down to inspect the hole. It would take maybe three minutes to stich at most. 

Michael nodded. “Last year I was a sheep, but this year I’m tall enough to be a shepherd.” He said it with pride, swelling at the chest. 

“Moving on up in the world, I see,” you said. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “What does that mean?” 

You laughed. “It just means you’re growing up.” 

“I can’t wait to grow up,” he said. “I’m gonna be an astronaut. Or maybe a Youtuber.” 

You blinked, amused, but slightly taken aback. “A Youtuber? Why not someone who helps people? Like a firefighter.” 

“Youtubers help people,” he countered. “They help me with Minecraft.” 

You deflated. “That’s not what I meant,” you said. 

“Why?” he asked. “You’re an adult. How do you help people?” He stared at you, waiting for a genuine response.  

“I’m helping with costumes,” you said. “If you take that one off, I can fix it for you.” 

“Oh yeah,” he said, slipping his arms out of the robe and handing it to you before running back off to join his peers. 

You chuckled to yourself, amused by how fast kids could swivel from focused to chaotic. His question stuck with you though, and you continued to ponder as you stitched up the sleeve and delivered it back to him. 

How were you helping people? 

_________

Thwack! 

The sound of his gloved fist cracking against the heavy bag echoed through the nearly-empty gym. 

“Wanna talk about it?” asked Ruffilo, who was across the room and had just finished a set of lat pull-downs. 

“No,” Noah muttered, taking another swing at the bag. This time, as soon as his fist connected, he felt the skin split at the knuckle. It didn’t stop him, however. He performed a series of jabs and crosses, and each time his fist connected, a new wave of pain shot through his hands, but he compartmentalized it. The pain was merely a physical sensation and if he ignored it, it had no power over him. 

His muscles burned, but he had yet to completely exhaust them of energy and had no intention of stopping until they were fully depleted. If he pushed them to failure, it would promote hypertrophy and muscle growth, which was about the only thing he had going for him. 

And yeah, he was pissed, but that wasn’t what this was about. 

Truthfully, he’d been pissed for days. It started that night after he tried to call you, and had carried over, never ebbing even a little. This had been his sixth attempt to get his anger out on the bag, but it had stayed with him each time. 

Nick came back three days ago, and had definitely noticed the change in Noah’s demeanor because he kept asking him if he was okay and Noah, like he’s always done, shrugged it off. 

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up, though. 

“Are you sure?” asked his friend after Noah had completed a set of fast, consecutive jabs, ending with a few wildly-aimed heavy blows. 

Noah stood there panting for a while until he was forced to admit beating his hands to a pulp wouldn’t solve his problems. He sniffed back some mucous that dripped down his nasal passages and wiped the sweat from his brow. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Nick. It was just that he had no idea what to say because he, himself didn’t fully understand. All his emotions were tied up in knots inside his chest and so far, he’s been unsuccessful in differentiating one from another. 

“It’s like,” he began, trying his best to organize and articulate his thoughts, but it felt like trying to whack a path through an overgrown jungle. “I’d just gotten her.” 

Nick nodded slowly, carefully, like he was training his responses to not spook Noah now that he’d gotten him to start talking. “Okay,” he said and paused, tapping his finger against his lip. “Okay,” he repeated. “And now it feels like you don’t have her anymore.” 

Noah shrugged. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, but only for now. Won’t she be back soon?” 

Noah through for a moment. “I have a feeling it’s not going to be that easy. I think her dad is going to keep her away from me if he can.” 

Nick’s eyebrows pulled together in a look of confusion. “She’s an adult though,” he said. “How could he stop her?” 

“I don’t know,” Noah replied. “I have a feeling he’ll find a way.” 

________

If the feeling in Noah’s chest was anything to go on, he had a lot to sort out, and it wasn’t going to happen if he kept it all in, he surmised, taking a drag from the joint he and Jolly were currently sharing. There was a small gathering happening, not as big as their usual parties since most of the town was still cleared out, but a few had come back after Christmas. 

He passed the joint back to Jolly, who shifted underneath the girl who currently occupied his lap so he could take it from Noah and place it between her lips. She inhaled deeply, brought her lips to Jolly’s and exhaled into his open mouth. Noah looked away once the kiss deepened. 

The girl held the joint out without breaking the connection between her mouth and Jolly’s, offering it to her friend, who copied the action, inhaling deep and then looking to Noah expectantly. She gestured to him to come closer so she could share the drag, and every other time, he would have easily taken her up on it, already knowing that the night would likely end with her on all fours and Noah buried inside her. 

Reluctantly, Noah sighed and shook his head. Her face fell and Noah felt bad, so he gestured to Folio, who had just joined the rotation. Without hesitating, he took her up on it, which she seemed enthusiastic about, leaving Noah free to get up and find something else to do. 

There was one person in particular he wanted to see—though he wasn’t sure if she was in town. Wandering though the hallway, he peered into rooms, scanning them over until at last he spotted the wavy blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. 

She looked good. She’d gotten a haircut since he’d last seen her, and it looked as though it had done something for her confidence, considering how she was currently chatting up Ruffilo with ease. He looked more engaged than Noah had expected, almost hanging on her every word. 

Noah grinned, sidling up to the two of them and it was a good few minutes before either of them noticed his presence. 

“I mean yeah, it’s based on the game, but it’s not like you have to understand it to appreciate the show. It’s its own thing,” she said. 

“I mean, I played League in high school and I just don’t know if I want to get back into that world. It ate up all my time,” said Nick, leaning casually against the wall and smiling at her. He shifted his weight to one hip and Noah saw his tongue dart out to moisten his bottom lip before he took a slow sip of his beer. 

Noah recognized his body language immediately. Ruffilo was flirting. This was a new development he hadn’t anticipated. 

“Okay, but it’s different. The writing is incredible and the character development is off the charts,” said Tiffany. “Just give it a chance. I promise you won’t be disappointed.” 

Ruffilo nodded a few times. “What streaming service is it on?” he asked. 

“Netflix,” she said. 

He sucked in a breath of air through his teeth. “I don’t have a Netflix account.” 

It was a lie. They shared Noah’s account. 

“Come over sometime. We can watch it at my place,” she said. Noah had never appreciated just how casually forward Tiffany was when she wanted something. She didn’t play games or pretend to come up with excuses for why another person should spend time with her. She was so much cooler than he’d ever given her credit for. 

“Okay,” said Ruffilo, unable to conceal his grin. “I’m free later this week. Just text me.” 

Noah waited until the two had finished exchanging numbers before he decided to make his presence known with the clearing of his throat. In an instant, both Ruffilo’s and Tiffany’s heads shot up, registering him beside them and Noah hid his grin behind his fist as he hissed with amusement. 

“Nice,” he chuckled. 

Ruffilo was unfazed. “Can I help you?” he asked. 

“I was actually here to see you,” Noah said, nodding towards Tiffany. Her eyebrows shot up and she blinked at him a few times, waiting for him to continue. “Want to go for a walk?” 

The end of December wasn’t as bitter as the beginning. The air was still, with only a light snow falling. It dampened the sound around them, providing a buffer between them and the noise pollution that usually permeated throughout the city. 

Noah walked slowly, trying to figure out what exactly he was trying to say. Tiffany waited patiently for him to talk, which he liked. He hated feeling pressured to open up. 

“So,” he began, twisting side to side to get some of the anxious energy out of his body and into the air. 

“So?” 

“When we talked last, you had encouraged me to earn the woman I wanted, which was a new concept to me.” Even though the wind from the last few weeks had died down, the air wasn’t any warmer. It still stung his nose. 

“I did,” said Tiffany in a measured calmness. 

“And I took your advice. And there was something about earning her affection that made me really happy. Like, I think it was good for me to do. It felt better than in the past when I had just gotten chicks, you know? Like I never had to try.” 

“Yes,” said Tiffany flatly. “I’m aware.” 

Noah chuckled. “Sorry. I probably sound like a real asshole to you sometimes, don’t I?” 

She sighed. “No. It’s just…not the most fun thing to be reminded of the differences of our lived experiences. Like I know that people treat us differently, but hearing about it isn’t my favorite thing.” 

“Noted,” said Noah, slowing down and allowing Tiffany to set the pace of the walk. They turned a random corner and entered into a suburban neighborhood where all the houses looked like carbon copies of one another. “I’d like to get together sometime and hear more about what your experience has been like. There’s probably a lot I could stand to learn.” 

Tiffany didn’t respond, but he could see her smiling to herself. 

“You were saying?” she prompted. 

“Just that all those times where it has been easy,” he continued, “they were also empty. And I guess I didn’t know it at the time because I never had anything else to compare it to. I was deeply unhappy with my life but had no idea why, and I think it’s because I never had to put effort in or work for anything.” 

Now it was Tiffany’s turn to laugh. “God, it’s just the complete opposite for me. I’ve had to work so hard for every ounce of attention I’ve gotten. I would kill for things to be easy for once.” 

“I don’t know, they seemed pretty easy back there with Ruffilo,” he smirked.. Under the street lamps, Tiffany flushed. “When did that happen?” 

She slowed down to a meandering pace and didn’t look Noah in the eye. “I don’t even know if it was anything,” she said. “We just started talking tonight.” 

“I think he’s into you,” said Noah. “I’ve known Nick for a long time and I can tell when he’s flirting and when he’s just humoring someone. You should go for it.” 

She looked up at him, shy smile still on her face. “We didn’t come out here to talk about me.” 

Noah took that as his cue to stop pushing and go on. “Okay so yeah. Long story short, you were right. I did have to earn her, and I liked who I was when I was earning her. And then I got her. But she’s gone, and I don’t know if she’ll be back and I guess I’m just…,” he trailed off. 

“Scared you’ll turn back into who you were before when you don’t have a goal to work for?” Tiffany helpfully supplied. 

“Yes, exactly,” Noah said. “I hadn’t been able to put it into words before now, but yeah. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. I don’t want to go back to that person, but I don’t know how to motivate myself without having someone else to be better for.” 

Tiffany stopped walking to face Noah. She crossed her arms and sucked on her teeth while she considered him. “Do you need someone else to motivate you?” she asked. 

“I don’t know. I’ve never been this person before and I don’t know how quickly I’ll revert back.” 

Her eyebrows pulled together while she was deep in thought. “I don’t know if you will go back. You don’t strike me as the type. Like, yes, maybe you needed that initial push to get yourself together, but you like who you are now, right?” 

Noah nodded. 

“So I think this change might not be as temporary as you think. I mean yeah, it will be harder to maintain now that you don’t have the carrot dangling in front of you, but can’t you just be a better person because it feels good? Because you don’t want to be miserable anymore?” 

Noah let her words seep into the crevices of his brain. 

“I mean,” she continued, “you could be binge drinking and making out with random girls right now, but instead you’re out here with me, talking about your feelings and considering how to become a better person.” 

He nodded. She had a point, but he couldn’t drum up a response just yet. 

“Sometimes things happen to us that change us forever. It sounds like she was one of those things, and I’m sorry that she’s gone and that now you have to do this on your own, but Noah, you need to trust yourself.” 

Trust himself. 

The concept wasn’t something he was familiar with. 

He had no idea where to even start. 

_________

All rights reserved to @doomhands-jr, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Taglist:

The taglist will only allow me to tag 50 people in a post, so I apologize if there's anyone I can't get to. I'll try to tag the rest in the comments.

@noahsebastions

@sundamariis 

@cyber-tiny

@xxkittenkissesxx

@treacheryinblue 

@flowerynerds

@1toreyouapart

@poisongirl616

@motflysblog

@starvingarsyn

@super-btstrash-post

@meliora-goore

@messagefrombelow

@thepastelfae

@thewrstinme

@szebra 

@sarahrosw36q 

@hyukkie16 

@messi-jessi603 

@fluumiii

@trvshdxddy

@mentallyillbartender

@gothic-pumpkin

@alwaysfightforwhoyouare

@runadaggerthroughmychest

@alytarg2009

@lilcrazy011

@bugseatmesoon

@anything-more-than-human

@xxrainstorm

@traffordonna

@velvetlilacsdaisies

@sunshinesunny 

@rain-down-on-me

@friedchildblaze 

@emilygalindo

@rhiannonringss

@sister-sebastian

@badomensls

@collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

@hoe-for-daddywise

@concretejungle420

@sleep-worship

@cncohshit

@adenobabe

@guacinyourarea

@escapingourexistence

@livingdeceasedgirl

[lilangelbud]

"Shh," he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, the kind that sends shivers down her spine. His hand is firm over her mouth, the warmth of his palm pressing against her lips, muffling any sound she might make. His other hand grips her hip, fingers digging into her flesh as he moves inside her, each thrust deliberate, each motion claiming her in a way that feels both forbidden and intoxicating.

She arches her back, her breath hitching as she tries to suppress the moan building in her throat. Her hands clutch at the edge of the bed, the sheets tangling around her fingers. The room is quiet except for the rhythmic sounds of their bodies moving together, the creak of the bed frame, and the occasional gasp she can’t quite stifle.

"You’re taking it so well," he murmurs, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice thick with something she can’t quite place—pride? Desire? Both? "Just like I taught you."

She wants to respond, to tell him how good it feels, how much she’s been craving this, but his hand remains firmly over her mouth, silencing her. Instead, she lets her body do the talking, pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts with her own urgency.

It’s not supposed to be like this, she thinks, but the thought is fleeting, drowned out by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. Her mind races, replaying how they got here, how something so wrong could feel so right.

---

It started innocently enough, or at least, as innocently as these things can. Her mother had been the one to suggest it, her tone casual, almost dismissive, as if it were nothing more than a mundane household chore.

"Your father will give you the talk," she had said over breakfast, not even looking up from her coffee. "He’s better at explaining these things."

She had frozen, the spoon halfway to her mouth, her stomach twisting with unease. The talk. The words echoed in her mind, vague and ominous. She wasn’t naïve—she knew what it was, or at least, she thought she did. But the idea of having it with him, her father, made her skin crawl.

"Mom, I already know—" she started, but her mother cut her off with a wave of her hand.

"Don’t be difficult," she said, her tone final. "It’s important. He’ll explain everything."

And that was that. No discussion, no debate. Just a simple declaration that left her feeling both embarrassed and apprehensive.

---

When he came to her room that evening, she had been sitting on the edge of her bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. He closed the door behind him softly, the click of the latch echoing in the quiet room. The air felt heavier somehow, charged with something she couldn’t quite name.

"So," he began, his voice calm and measured, the way it always was when he was about to explain something. "Your mother thought it was time we had the talk."

She nodded, her throat dry, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to look away, to avoid his gaze, but she couldn’t. His eyes were intense, focused, almost… searching.

"Alright," he said, sitting down on the bed beside her, his weight causing the mattress to dip slightly. "Let’s start with the basics."

He began with biology, the mechanics of it all, his voice steady and clinical. It was almost comforting, the familiarity of his teaching style, the same way he explained math problems or how to fix a leaky faucet. But then, something shifted. His tone softened, his words slower, more deliberate.

"But it’s not just about the physical," he said, his hand resting on her knee, his touch warm, grounding. "It’s about connection. About trust. About understanding what the other person needs."

She swallowed hard, her body tingling in a way that felt both foreign and familiar. His hand moved slightly, his thumb brushing against her skin, and she felt a rush of heat spreading through her.

"Do you understand?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes locked on hers.

She nodded again, her mind racing, her body betraying her with every breath. And then, without warning, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Good," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Because words can only go so far. Sometimes, actions speak louder."

---

That’s when it happened. His hands moved with purpose, his touch firm but gentle, guiding her, showing her. She should have protested, should have stopped him, but she didn’t. Instead, she let herself be swept up in the moment, in the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way he made her feel.

And now, here they are, his hand over her mouth, his body moving against hers, each thrust a reminder of what they’re doing, of how wrong it is, of how much she doesn’t want it to stop.

"You’re doing so well," he whispers again, his voice strained, his breath hot against her neck. "So perfect."

She closes her eyes, letting the sensations wash over her, the pressure building, the heat coiling in her stomach. She’s close, so close, and she can tell he is too by the way his movements become more erratic, more desperate.

"Just a little more," he groans.

[merakiui]

would love to hear your thoughts about yan Lilia

the general Lilia with pregnant reader lives rent free in my thoughts 💚❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

AAAA YES!!! :D it’s been so long since I’ve talked about the general and his pregnant darling. <3 I have many more thoughts to share,,,

Taken prisoner after your village has been destroyed and claimed by the General of the Right and his men. They need all the resources they can find. Most of the humans are dead or, if lucky enough, escaped for safety. You weren’t so lucky. It was only a matter of time before the keen General sniffed you out, finding you huddled in hiding. You beg him for mercy, to spare your baby. “There is no mercy to be found in a conflict as bloody and brutal as this one,” he tells you in a rough snarl. He’s certainly not soft. He scoffs at the insinuation. Your tears mean nothing to him.

But he supposes it would be unfair to your child, who is completely innocent and has no idea of the war that’s currently raging on. So you’ll come with him as a prisoner, and if you try anything funny he’ll cut you down himself. You cower under the eyes of his men, and the General makes it clear that you’re with them now. His right hand is baffled: “General, you know this human will only hold us back…!” he protests on and on, the same arguments each time. “We can’t guarantee their safety.” He doesn’t like you much or trust you, but he’ll tolerate you if only because the General orders it. >:/

You’re given bigger portions of food,, whatever they can find, really, all for you and the baby. You thank them with a grateful smile, offering to do the cooking in exchange for their help. Baul doesn’t trust you, but you certainly know your way around food preparation. He can huff and puff over his cold, raw rat meat all he wants, insist he’d never eat anything made by a human. You’re busy making a hearty stew with the ingredients Lilia’s men managed to scrounge up and it smells delicious. Tastes so, too. Lilia commends you for it. His men seem to be in higher spirits, too. Funny how good food is all it takes to boost morale, if only for the night.

You sleep near Lilia. At first it was so he could keep an eye on you, watching you hum lullabies to your bump, his own eyes falling shut momentarily. Now it’s just for your protection. To feel comforted that you’re in his sight, within reach. He remains awake for patrol. Sometimes you stir, rubbing your eyes and blinking sleepily at him. If he’s feeling chatty, he might entertain your questions or a short conversation—anything to lull you back to sleep. He asks you what you’ll name your child. You shrug. You haven’t considered it yet. Lilia hums his acknowledgment, keen eyes picking up on your slight shivering. He tells you to keep warm. It can get dreadfully cold at night, and you’re so fragile. “A shame the fire’s nothing but embers,” you whisper, wrapped up in a fur cloak. “I suppose there are other ways to keep warm…”

His gaze pans over to you, assessing your person, those words and the message they carry. He is not soft. He is cruel and cunning. He…hopes for your safety, in spite of everything. To last this long on your own as a human, you’re strong. He’s impressed. Perhaps he’ll allow himself this gratification just once, his cold, callused palms resting gently upon your rounded stomach. The way you arch up into him, a hand falling over your mouth as you fill with pleasure and deflate with a dreamy sigh. “For such a cold, hard General, you’re very gentle,” you whisper, reaching up to trace your knuckle against his cheek.

He takes your hand in his, his mouth opening in snappy retort. And then he closes it, scoffing under his breath. He is not soft.

When this war is over, he wonders if he’ll ever see you again. In spite of everything, he hopes so. He wants only the best for you and your child.

[alphajocklover]

Would love to myself corrupted into a new body lol Some douchebag…maybe some sleazy drug dealer with long hair who always makes demeaning comments, maybe he’s a a rocker or comedian. Or maybe some famous broadway actor turned awful. All womazing assholes and sleazy douchebags. Maybe a preppy. Conservative. Religious or some shit. Awful to women and gays. Long gross hair or short stylish. Chin strap. Smells. Hmmm. Young and dumb…..yeah could you please turn me into an awful straight man?

I’m sorry to say this, but I’m not sure how much I can help you here. It’s not that I can’t transform you like you're asking, I’m just not sure if I should. I don’t doubt that you want to become a straight douchebag, or have any reservations about making you into one in general. I’ve discussed enough douchebag transformations to be comfortable with them, and have even performed a few myself. My problem is that you don’t seem to know what it is you really want. It's one thing to say you want to be a straight douchebag, but when you list a bunch of different types of douchebags and then don’t clarify which one you’d actually like to become, well… It’s hard to know what direction to take this. When someone isn’t specific I usually just go with whatever I think is hot, but to be honest everything you listed is pretty hot, so it's pretty hard to choose. Do I make you into a sleazy, surprisingly muscular and dominant drug dealer who flaunts his ill gotten fortune, or a cool, charming and wild rockstar who constantly sleeps with fans and groupies? Should I transform you into a crude comedian who constantly goes for cheap and bigoted punchlines, or a religious, old money rich boy who's obsessed with his own superiority and good looks? The list of choices goes on and on, and I could come up with even more you didn’t even mention. So, what is someone supposed to do when faced with this many amazing options? Well, one answer is to just pick all of them! So instead of turning you into one straight douchebag, I’ll be turning you into 5 distinct douchebags. It’s… pretty hard to turn someone into multiple people, but I’ll be honest, it’s a challenge I’ve been looking forward to trying. 

The first problem we’re going to have to fix is the souls. I know talking about souls is a little spiritual and technical to be talking about here, but it's actually an important part of magic. Magic cannot create or destroy life, or more accurately, a soul. A soul cannot be destroyed by magic, and a new soul can’t be created by one either. A situation where a new soul is created naturally can happen, and I’m fairly certain it has even happened before on this blog, but creating a new soul, a new person entirely from scratch? That's one of the only things magic can’t really do. So to get around that, we’re going to have to get a little unorthodox and, well, split your soul.

Now I know that sounds bad. If you’ve read the final entry of a certain popular YA novel, then you’re probably wondering if what I’m proposing is going to turn you into a noseless snake man. Rest assured that souls, while incredibly precious, are not as fragile as people think. They’re sort of like livers. You need one, and having a damaged one absolutely sucks, but if with enough time and help, any damage done to one will heal. All we need to do is have my devil friend Nick take a little bit off your soul, put that bit into 4 new bodies, and accelerate the healing process with some magic. It won’t be pleasant, and it will technically involve you allowing a literal devil to toy with your soul since for anyone but a devil it would be literally impossible, but it can be done, and Nick has always enjoyed new experiments. The best part of this one is that all 5 of them will still be you, deep down. You’ll be able to experience what it’s like to be all of them, and even change which one you’re consciously experiencing.

Now that we’ve got all that technical stuff out of the way, we can get into the fun part: the 5 new yous! We’re going to go down the line with what you described, starting with the sleazy douchebag drug dealer. He’s got long, untamed hair, a dull look in his eyes, and some surprisingly big biceps for someone who spends so much time high. Guess the steroids he both takes deals make the little time he actually spends working out all the more effective. He’s the kind of guy who lives by the idea that nothing comes for free, and takes payment in gas, grass or ass. He hates anyone who doesn’t work as hard as he does, or at least as hard as he thinks he does, and isn’t above ranting about all the handouts other people get. He’s a sleazy douche, but one hot enough to girl as much pussy as he wants, if his personality doesn’t send girls running

Your second new self is a bit more fun. Not that being a drug dealer douchebag isn’t fun, but let's face it, everyone wants to be a rockstar. The fame, the fortune, the crowds screaming your name, being a rockstar is every young man's dream, and that's not to mention the afterparties, the tours, and the many, many groupies. Your second self has known what he wants to be since he was young, and has never let anyone tell him otherwise. He’s not used to hearing no, and his cocky attitude is proof of it. He’s always confident, whether he’s rocking out on the stage, fucking a big titted bimbo, or showing off to his legions of fans. He’s also pretty buff, even for a rockstar, so you’re going to have a lot of fun as him

Your third self is also famous, just in a different way. This ones the comedian, and this body is actually asian, not white like you other ones, though you’d never be able to tell from his jokes. With his entitled personality, barrage of racist and homophobic jokes he constantly spews on and off stage, and general narcissism, he’s every bit the entitled American douchebag your other two selves are. The only real difference is that he’s good enough with his timing to attract a fair amount of like minded, usually equally douchey fans who think that because an asian guy is saying it, it can’t be racist. He’s not as successful as your rockstar self, but he’s definitely on his way up, and has been bragging that he’s going to get a netflix deal soon (even though he won’t).

Your fourth and fifth selves actually know each other in their new lives, weirdly enough, since they’re both frat boys. It can be a little disorienting being around someone who's basically another you, but it can also be kind of fun, and you don’t even have to say ‘no homo’ after a handjob, because with him it's basically just masturbation. Of course while they’re both frat boys, they’re actually fairly different. Your fourth self is a more traditional, preppy frat boy. The guy who wear too tight polos, flirts with every sorority girl he can, yells at gay guys about going against the bible while also having as much premarital sex as possible. The one who's going to grow up, get a job at his dads company, and become an even douchier executive. Your fifth self though, is more of a modern day frat boy. He doesn’t wear polos, and in fact almost never wears anything with sleeves. He’s a lot less subtle than number 4, and possibly a bit dumber, but he doesn’t care. He’s a manly stud who gets to fuck hot girls, hang out with his bros, and is certain he can make a on only fans if Football doesn’t work out. Fags may be annoying, but if they wanna pay to watch a video of him calling them pathetic, he’s not going to say no.

So, I’m happy to say that you now have 5 versions of yourself running around, each one a straight, sleazy douchebag. I guess the only question now is which body you’re going to inhabit first.

[jiniretracha]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠? - 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 (𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬)

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, smut, angst!!!

summary: You worked at Kim Publishing, a place you could call home since the very start. But when it faced bankruptcy, your beloved company was forced to merge with Bang Editorials an evil empire with no vision on anything that Kim Publishing represented. And that's how you met your nemesis: Felix Lee. The bane of your existence. But everything fell into place like the pieces of a puzzle when your bosses had a marvellous idea: a new position as manager director, who had to submit their report in order to be chosen for the job. And your archenemy had the same purpose as you did: get that job one way or another.

word count: 4.6k

ps: I came with a new series totally and utterly inspired/based on The Hating Game. Pls feel free to let me know if you wanna be on this series taglist !

the moment y'all been waiting for, enjoy ;)

masterlist // series masterlist // ko-fi

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 - 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

The road to Felix’s stepbrother’s wedding was very long.

During the car ride there, you tried to mentally prepare yourself that you were going to be sharing space with his family, friends and personal life. What if you encountered yourself with an ex girlfriend of his?

You blinked a couple of times to shake the bad feeling that the thought gave you. 

You sighed and looked at him. “So… what do I need to know about your family?” you asked him, arching an eyebrow expectantly. 

Felix smiled nervously as his hands fumbled a little with the steering wheel. “My mom’s great” he deadpanned. You arched an eyebrow and he could sense that the answer wasn’t enough for you. “She will love you and tell you that she wants to keep you forever, I’m sure so… don’t worry” he chuckled. 

I wasn’t worried, you wanted to reply, but you knew that that would’ve been a lie. 

You smiled at the thought of his mother liking you, though. You felt somehow comforted by that thought.

“My dad on the other hand…” he said and your heart started to beat faster. “He’s um… complicated” Felix finished. “Last time I was home, we had somewhat of a fight”

You eyed him. “What about?” 

“A lot of things” he exhaled. “I left med school and he got real mad at me and well, I was dealing with my own shit as well. I was dealing with the fact that I disappointed my dad and my girlfriend had left me and he and Chris were being assholes about it”

You frowned a little. You weren’t going to lie that the fact that he mentioned an ex girlfriend made your brain short circuit a little bit. 

You pressed your lips together and smacked them. “It’s so hard to imagine you with a girlfriend, to be honest. I always pictured you as the type to swipe right on tinder and then say the cliché: let’s not put a label on this, babe” you said, mocking his voice tone.

He chuckled. “Well, sometimes you’re wrong” he sighed, arching his eyebrows. 

You looked away to the window and tried to swallow down the stupid jealousy that bloomed out of literally nowhere. 

He was allowed to have ex girlfriends for fuck sake’s. Then, why the hell did it make you so jealous?

As far as you knew, you didn’t like him in the first place, right?

Right?

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

You arrived at the little cabin complex that Chris had booked for the guests and you gasped as he parked the car and your eyes travelled all over the place. 

“Wow, your stepbrother’s fucking rich!” you said, wide-eyed and in pure awe. 

He chuckled as he stepped out of the car. “Nah, his girlfriend’s family is, though”

“Oh, makes sense” you whispered, getting out of the car yourself.

You looked up into the sky and smiled.

“It’s going to snow” you murmured.

He looked down at you and frowned. “How do you know that?” he asked, as he opened the door of the complex for you to go in first, chivalrously. 

You scoffed as you walked inside the reception, shaking your head. “Because it’s a thing. I can smell weather” you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

He chuckled. “That would make you the craziest X-Men of all time” he said to you and it made you shake your head with a smile. 

“That was a ver nerdy comparison” you pointed out. You rang the little bell that was on the desk and the receptionist appeared. 

“Hey, good evening guys!” a weird guy came walking towards the front desk. He had an eerie looking smile on his face and his eyes were weirdly blown out. “How can I help you?”

“Hey, man. Felix Lee. We have two rooms booked” Felix said, sliding his ID towards him. 

The guy gasped. “Oh! The Lee’s, yeah, of course” he said. “Um, let me check” he sighed, typing away on his computer. He looked back at you and you knew that the face he was sporting you wasn’t one that carried good news.

“What is it?” you immediately asked.

“I am so sorry…” he trailed off and you could sense what this was about. “I only have one room available”

Great. Just great.

“Um, what’s your name?” you asked him.

“Jeffrey”

“Jef! Great”

“No, Jeffrey. My friends call me Jef, and well, we’re not friends” Jeffrey said, sternly.

You narrowed your eyes and nodded. “Yeah, okay. Jeffrey” you deadpanned. “We really need those two rooms that he booked because as you see- we’re- look- two people. That means two rooms” you rambled on and Felix just stared at you with an amused smile on his face. 

“I know, miss, and I apologise, truly. I have two weddings this weekend” Jeffrey explained.

“I know, we're in one of them” Felix replied. 

Jeffrey gasped. “Oh! You’re the couple? Congratulations, you look very good together” he cooed. 

“Oh no!”

“No, no, no”

You both said loudly together, at the same time.  

“It’s my brother’s- stepbrother’s wedding. That’s all we came for, alright?” Felix explained gently to the receptionist. “And we need that room-”

“Alright this is getting on my last fucking nerve. Jeffrey, please give us the key to the room and we’ll gladly take it” you said, sticking your hand out, palm facing upwards.

Jeffrey smiled and dropped the key in your hand.

“Thank you”

“Room 216, second floor” he explained to the both of you. 

“Great, have a good day” you said and walked towards the elevator.

“You too!” 

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

You unlocked the door and gasped when you walked inside the room. 

“Holy smokes, this place is amazing” you cooed. 

You dropped your bag on the bed and saw the small couch next to it.

“You…” you said, pointing to it. “...will sleep there” 

Felix chuckled and shook his head. “Nuh-uh, Cupcake. Don’t be ridiculous” he said, dropping his bags on the floor. He checked the hour on his phone and placed it on the nightstand. “Okay, we have… half an hour until rehearsal dinner. Do you want to try the shower first?” he asked you.

“Sure” you nodded and quickly grabbed some clothes before closing yourself inside the amazing bathroom that the room had. 

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

After you finished your shower, you let him try it as well. 

You dressed up in a deep red dress and left your leather jacket to wear for later on the bed. You applied some make up, trying to be the most discreet with it.

A little mascara and red lipstick to combine with the dress wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

After applying the mascara, you went to grab the lipstick. You heard the door of the bathroom opening and your eyes darted towards him through the mirror.

He came out from the bathroom wearing only a towel, his naked chest on full display. 

You tried to keep your composure at bay but deep down, your heart started racing to a point that you were scared he was able to hear the noise. 

You raised the lipstick to your lips, trying to shake the thoughts that were creeping in. He came towards you and grabbed your arm.

“Flamethrower?” he asked. 

You blinked a couple of times, your gaze meeting his through the mirror. “I… like red” you said quietly and he chuckled. 

“So do I”

And that was your undoing.

You turned around and grabbed his neck, pulling him down to your lips, kissing him fiercely. Felix’s breath hitched at the back of his throat but was quick to grab your waist and pull you closer to his naked body that was only covered with that towel he wrapped around his waist before leaving the bathroom. 

You pulled away and exhaled against his lips. “This does not mean we’re okay” you whispered and kissed him again, your nails digging against his shoulder blades. 

Felix smirked against your mouth and turned you around, walking you both towards the bed, his hands digging down towards your thighs. He pushed your dress up your body, and you helped him discard it, throwing it to the floor. 

You stood in front of him in only a matching set of lacy black bra and panties. His eyes were blown wide with lust and his hands went to grab your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh as he greedily grabbed a handful of skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” he whispered before his mouth fell onto your lips and you moaned against his. 

He bent down a little, placing his palms under your thighs and hoisted you up in his arms, picking you up so that your legs could wrap around his waist.

You chuckled against his lips and pulled away. “Deja vu, huh?”

“You read my mind” he smirked and placed you on the bed, laying you down and crawling on top of you. 

His hands kind of had a mind of his own, he didn’t know what to do with them. 

They crawled up your thighs, gripping your flesh, then up your stomach, caressing your soft skin. Up to your covered breasts, his hands enveloping them and squeezing them, drawing moans from you, against his lips. 

He pulled away from your mouth and his fell to your neck, mouthing at the skin there on your neck. “Shit… you’re so soft” he moaned, his teeth digging and pulling. 

Your back arched against his chest and your fingers carded through his hair, pulling on it and drawing a whimper from his lips.

You gasped and he pulled his face up, the pink in his cheeks made you chuckle. “Are you into hair-pulling, Felix Lee?” you asked him, breathily.

“Shut up” he murmured and devoured your mouth into a kiss once again. 

You sighed into his mouth and then you felt his fingers creeping up under your back, and you arched it, knowing what he was about to do.

His fingers expertly unhooked your bra with one hand and you helped him take it away as he flung it behind him without a care. 

His eyes zeroed on your breasts and his hands automatically flew to grasp them, squeezing them with fervour. “Fuck… look at these” he sighed. You moaned and dug your nails against his shoulders. “I so wanna fuck them…” he whispered through hooded eyes. “...but I’ll save that for some other time”

Some other time… interesting.

Felix didn’t let you have time to think because he dove into your chest and enveloped one of your tits in his mouth. His palm grabbed at it as he continued sucking on the nipple while your legs thrashed on the bed and your mouth continued dripping with moans. 

“I’m fucking obsessed with these” he whispered, going to assault the other one with his mouth. “Everytime you came into the office wearing those little dresses with these pushed up in your little bras… my God, baby” he mumbled nonsense into your chest. 

“Felix…” you sighed.

“What?”

“Please…” you whispered, giving him doe eyes. 

“What do you want, baby, hm?” he asked, crawling up further and kissing your lips sweetly in one single peck. “You always go around throwing big girl words towards me and now… you’re all dumb” he chuckled, biting your lip and tugging on it. 

“I…” you stammered and clenched your legs around his waist, that was still covered by that stupid towel. 

“Yeah?”

“Go lower” you said, feeling your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

He let out a chuckle and immediately lowered his mouth to your chest and trailed it down towards your stomach. His fingers hooked on the hem of your panties and oh so slowly he pulled them down your legs. 

Felix threw the fabric on the floor and parted your legs with his hands. You saw him bite his lip and without a warning he dove his face right into your core, making you gasp and let out a high pitched moan.

You were sure the neighbors were aware of what you two were doing exactly. 

His tongue dragged over your opening, practically drowning in the wetness seeping out of you. 

You felt the vibrations from his own moans as he continued lapping at you like a starved man. His thumb played with your clit, rolling circles tightly around the nub. You pulled on his hair and he moaned loudly against your clit, his tongue curling inside of you. 

“Fuck, Lix… fuck–” you sobbed and his fingers pressed even tighter against your thigh. 

That new nickname you have him did numbers inside his brain, you probably didn’t realise what you said. 

He dragged his tongue over your hole and over your clit in one simple go and that was your undoing.

“Shit, I’m coming” you yelled and a few seconds later you came on his tongue.

Felix happily lapped at your orgasm, happily humming against your core. He pressed one last kiss to your pubic bone and stood up from the bed. 

You laid there, gasping for air, trying to regain your breath. You looked up at him and saw him standing in front of you. 

With a little groan, you sat up on your elbows and closed your legs, which you realised had remained open to his eyes. 

He dug a finger on the tie of the towel and let it pool on his feet. You couldn’t help but gasp a little at the sight of him , naked in front of you in all his glory. 

He took his hand down, stroking his own erection, his thumb swiping over his drooling tip. 

“Can I suck you off?” you asked him, biting your lip and puffing your chest out to stick out your tits. 

He groaned and you saw his hand jerking himself off faster. “No, baby. As soon as that mouth of yours touches me, I’m done for. I need to be inside of you” he explained breathily to you around a groan. 

You smiled at him and grabbed his shoulders pulling him towards you and on top of you.

Felix sighed when he felt the tip probing at your entrance and then smacked his hand on the duvet, making you jump.

“Motherfucker” he groaned.

“What? What’s going on?” you aksed, confused.

“I don’t have condoms” Felix replied angrily. Mostly at himself. 

“You’re telling me you brought me here without packing condoms, are you kidding me?” you snorted.

He glared at you. “Now’s not the time, Y/N” he said. 

“Wait, isn’t this complex one for married couples? I’m sure there’s gotta be a pack here somewhere” you told him.

His eyes widened and he seemed to realise that you were probably right. He let you move, turning around on your stomach and opened the drawer from the nightstand next to the bed. As you were searching it, you felt Felix grab at your ass and let his hand slap your cheek softly.

“What are you doing?” you giggled.

“Oh, nothing. Just having fun” he acted nonchalant about it.

You gasped once you found a little pack there. “Found it! And they’re not expired” you said, handing it to him.

“Great” he mumbled, grabbing it quickly and ripping one of the packets. He quickly rolled it on his cock and went back to position himself above you. “You ready, baby?”

You bit your lip at the word baby coming from him. He had called you that before and you weren’t going to lie, because your heart tripled its size. 

You nodded shyly. “Yeah” you whispered.

You grabbed onto his shoulders as he pressed his cockhead against your entrance and slowly pushed it until he was buried inside. He bottomed out and he groaned, letting his forehead drop against your shoulder. You moaned loudly, clenching around him. 

“Oh shit, fuck, baby you’re so fucking tight” he cursed against your skin. 

“Felix, move!” you whined, thrashing your legs around on the bed.

He grabbed your waist. “No, wait. Stay fucking still” he said, looking into your eyes. “You’re squeezing me so fucking tight I’m barely holding it together” 

“Well, it’s not my fault you’re so fucking big” you gasped.

“Are we seriously arguing right now? With me literally inside of you?” he frowned, still out of breath. 

You rolled your eyes. “Please fucking move!” 

He made you gasp as he thrusted harshly against your g-spot and he started hammering it with fervour as he moved his hips furiously. You moaned, throwing your head back while your hands were busy with his back, raking nails over his skin. You were sure you were going to leave a mark.

You squealed when he grabbed your legs and pushed them up to rest on your chest, finding a deeper angle to hit the sweet spot inside of you. 

“Shit, baby, you’re so wet” he chuckled as he saw your pussy sputtering out wetness that splashed against his thighs. “Do I make you this wet?”

His fingers circled your clit and you arched your back violently. “God- f-fuck” you groaned, pressing your head against the pillow as he continued to thrust inside of you rapidly. 

Felix frowned and smacked your clit, making you yelp. “Answer me”

“Y-yes, you make me so fucking wet, Felix” you cried out.

Felix smirked and bent his body so that his chest was touching yours. “Good fucking girl” he whispered before he devoured your mouth into a fiery kiss, practically fucking it with his tongue while he fucked your pussy at the same time. 

“I’m- Lix” you moaned and he mirrored your moan.

“Fuck, say that again” he whispered against your mouth. “Come on, say it” he said, trailing his hand towards your center. 

He started rubbing tight circles against your clit again and you gasped, your fingers carding through his hair and gripping it. “Lix… I’m gonna come, baby” you whimpered and then kissed him, drowning his moans of pleasure. 

Felix started slamming his hips even faster and harder against yours, you were sure the slapping sound could be heard through the entire complex. “Please, come around me” he begged. 

The sound of his begging was enough for you to make you fall apart on his length, coating him completely. 

He thrusted harshly and sloppily a couple of times and he was quick to follow your orgasm, filling you up completely. With a content sigh, he gently and carefully let his body drop against his as you both gasped out for air. 

“That was…” you exhaled.

“Fucking amazing” he finished for you. 

You chuckled and nodded. “yeah, I agree” you said and he smiled against your skin.

He pushed his face up and his eyes searched yours. 

Felix couldn’t let his feelings show, he couldn’t let you know, but he was feeling on top of the world. It had never felt like this. And he knew that once he had you once, he would never get enough of you. And he was absolutely right. 

He was completely enamoured. 

He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, which you reciprocated, feeling your toes curling at the loving gesture.

With a groan, he pulled away from you and laid next to you, caressing your arm and back. “You feel okay? I didn’t hurt you or go too far?” he asked with a worried tone. 

You chuckled and placed your hand on his cheek, pressing a kiss to his nose. “No, it was perfect”

He smiled at you and brought you even closer to his warm body.

You eyed the clock on the wall behind him and gasped, sitting up. 

“What is it?” he asked, worried, sitting up as well. 

“We’re gonna be so fucking late for rehearsal dinner” you said, covering your mouth with your palm. 

He chuckled and grabbed your shoulder, pulling you down. “Stay here” he said and you hesitantly obeyed. 

You sighed. “But what will your parents think? ‘Oh, hi! Mr and Mrs Lee. I am so sorry that we missed your son’s rehearsal dinner. We were too busy fucking each other to even realise what time it was’” you said with sarcasm.

He laughed and shook his head. “I promise you, nobody will care” he replied. “I can just text them a message saying that we got stuck in traffic or some shit like that and we’ll see them tomorrow at the wedding” Felix told you.

“Yeah, but what if they find out we already checked in?” you asked him, pushing a curl out of his forehead.

He frowned. “Why do you care so much about what my parents think?” he asked you. 

“Well, I’m a people-pleaser” you answered like it was the most obvious thing. “I meet people and my brain just- poof, the thought of pleasing them just appears magically”

“Yeah, but why?”

You blinked. “I just told you the entire logic of it, hon. Okay, but wait, why wouldn’t you want to please them? They’re your parents after all” you asked him. 

Felix just sighed. “I don’t know. I learned a long time ago that that’s it’s impossible” he said with a tight lipped smile.

You hummed. “Okay, sore subject I see. Let’s just move on” you chuckled. “I’ll ask you another question and then you’ll ask me something and then-”

“Okay, I understood, Cupcake. Shoot” he laughed. 

“Mmhh…” you hummed in thought. “The other day, when you caught me snooping around your desk… um, I saw your planner…”

He faked a gasp. “So you admit you were indeed snooping around at my desk”

“Okay, um, don’t deflect!” you said, pushing his shoulder a little. “Well… um, I kind of saw these red marks on the margins” you told him. “Some crosses, dots, lines. What are those?” 

You saw Felix’s eyes widening a little and he looked away from you.

With a gasp, you sat up a little and hovered your face over his. “What? No! Tell me! Come on!”

He smiled at you and chuckled. “Alright, fine” he sighed. “A cross means we had a fight, the line means I made you upset… and the dot… the dot’s for when I want to kiss you”

You pulled your face back in shock and your eyes stupidly blinked quickly. “Wow” it’s all you could whisper. 

Felix just continued grinning at you, caressing your hair. 

“You’re like an OCD stalker” you replied and he laughed out loud. 

“Okay, it's my turn now” he said. 

“Alright, shoot” you said, mimicking him from earlier. 

“Tell me about your family. I feel like I’ve told you everything from me and I haven’t heard almost anything from you” he told you.

“Okay…” you nodded and laid back down on the bed, facing him. “My mom’s the best” you said and he chuckled at that. “She raised me… almost on her own. Because my dad was kind of an asshole and left us when I was about seven years old” 

He smiled gently and caressed your arm. “I’m sorry” he said.

“Oh, don’t worry. I barely remember him thankfully. And we were never really struggling because of it. My mom a couple of years ago found herself a boyfriend- well, now husband and they love each other. A lot. He’s english, so she’s kind of living over there every once in a while” you told him. 

“Well, but she’s happy, I reckon?” he asked.

“yeah, very” you replied. “Now, tell me why is Chris your stepbrother? I felt like I’ve been wanting to ask you that forever!” 

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s not that interesting of a story, to be honest” Felix replied.

“Tell me!”

“Okay! Okay” he giggled. “So… My mom was married to this guy whose last name was Bang. They had a kid: Chris, and when he was about a year old, his dad passed away. I never knew what it was exactly but I think he got sick at some point” Felix said. “My mom then met my dad, and had me. Chris got to keep his last name, my mom wanted that” 

“That’s such a sad story. But I’m guessing Chris has no memory of his dad so he isn’t sad” you replied, chewing on your lip. 

“No, Chris has no memory of his dad at all… but my mom…” he trailed off.

“Oh no…”

“Yeah” you sighed. “I’m guessing… I mean- I’ve always had some kind of hunch that she never got over it” 

“Oh Lix” you replied, caressing his cheek. 

Felix suddenly smiled. “I love that nickname” he said with a giggle. 

“We were having an emotional moment, Felix Lee” 

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, now it’s my turn. Right?”

“Okay, go ahead” you sighed, pretending to be annoyed. 

“Tell me something I don’t know” he said out of a sudden. “I already exposed myself with the things I write down on my planner”

“Okay…  um…” you said and your eyes widened when you remembered that. “So, when I wore that little black dress to work the other day, well… I lied about having a date with Wooyoung, I asked him later that day” you said, and then pressed your lips together to contain your laugh. 

Felix opened his mouth in surprise and chuckled.

“What? You were being presumptuous and skeptical. I panicked, alright?” you laughed. “And… and well, I had a very sexy erotic dream about you”

He gasped and sat up. “I knew it!”

“You did?” 

“Yeah, it was written all over your face. Literally your forehead said: I had a sex dream about my co-worker” he laughed.

“no it didn’t! I did not look like- okay, I probably did” you sighed in defeat. “I literally did that because I panicked and I didn’t want you to think I was a loser… you know, you said you were going to the bar too and I didn’t want you to find me alone there… it would’ve been pathetic”

“Well, you wouldn’t have been alone. I would’ve gone with you” he said softly, his knuckles caressing the apple of your cheek. 

He bent forward and pressed a loving kiss on your forehead. He pulled away and nudged your nose with his with a little smile. 

Your heart was beating so fast at the way he was looking at you. So sincere, like he had a lot of love for you. 

Love. 

He looked like he was in love with you.

You just grabbed his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips, trying to show him that you felt the same. 

Because you did. 

And there was no going back.

-

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @lattyjiji   @jeonginsleftcheek    @alrm02   @skzjiiiii   @lixies-favorite-cookie    @victoriaaf   @st4rv3lly   @noirvedette   @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @chroniclesofskz

i apologize if i can't tag you

[lottiematthewsdefender]

Trans!masc Lottie headcannons

Warning ! Fluff, T!dick, shots mentions, nsfw at the end

Note ! I’m going to keep calling Lottie by Lottie because I don’t know what to call him. I love both trans Masc and fem Lottie like yum yum

• Lottie loves loves loves it whenever you give him nicknames like “pretty boy” or “handsome” because it makes him feel so much more better

• Lottie struggles with dysmorphia and self esteem :( but when he’s with you they feel so much more comfortable and safe, especially when you whisper sweet things to him.

• I feel like his parents would not let him get any masculine clothes, and by his parents, his dad, so you buy masculine clothes for him and give it to him as a surprise.

• At first Lottie is so scared of taking his T shot since he’s scared of needles, so you help him and reassure him he’ll be okay and eases his nerves he’ll make you hold his hand to support him during his shot

• after the shot, Lottie will make you cuddle him and watch his favorite movies and you’ll make him snacks as a reward.

• Lottie ALWAYS has to tell you his progression, his changing body, how he’s growing a tiny beard, new muscles or anything else

• His personal favorite was his T dick!!

• the first time he saw it, he was so excited and immediately told you about it and even showed you, it was small, but it was something :)

• it’s very sensitive whenever when you touch it, especially when he just started growing it. He enjoys it whenever you touch him though and he trusts you to be gentle with him.

• Lottie starts to get more comfortable with intimacy the more it grew, and he’ll ask you to make him feel good and you’re happy to do anything with him.

• he’s so self conscious about its size, he really wished it was bigger then it was, but your there to remind him that it’s something, and how perfect it is.

• I feel like he doesn’t like having pubic hair, I feel like the moment he sees it he shaves it off, sometimes he’d let it grow out, but not too much.

• when he gets bigger and he can properly fuck you, he wants to try every position with you, and even wants to breed you.

• she’s so so sensetive though, so most of the time you top him and talk to her about how good his dick feels inside of you, and if he’s enjoying you riding him, but you can tell by him just being a whimpering whiney mess!!

[mejaemin]

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ✦　

hearsay - nakamoto yuta

wc: 0.6k summary: “yuta this!” and “yuta that!” but is he really a amazing as they say? warnings: getting pierced, needles, red hair yuta 👅, very half assed and low quality an: red hair yuta. my god.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ✦　

for the longest time, you’ve been hearing about this guy from one person to the next, and honestly it’s kind of annoying. there’s no way this guy is that cool..

everyone’s description of him sounds like he’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of, but you’re still a little apprehensive. from what you’ve heard, he’s got shaggy red hair, covered in tattoos, and he dresses like he’s allergic to color. except red, of course, because it’s his signature or something. he even paints his nails! you’ve never seen a guy in your area do that before.. he must be made up.

yuta is his name, and all of your friends and classmates are raving about him nonstop. he’s so cool, his music taste is amazing, and so much more. sure, that makes him sound like such hot shit, but he can’t be that cool.

that’s why, when you enter your piercing and tattoo shop, and see someone who fits the description, you have to do a double take.

black, torn baggy jeans, black tank, tattoos, and of course the red hair. there’s no way. you’re just going to check in like normal, be led to your room, and pray that’s just some random guy. not nakamoto yuta, the topic of conversation literally everywhere.

finally, after getting checked in, you sit down in the cold leather chair. it’s only a few moments of sitting around until someone walks in, the man you’ve been thinking of this whole time.

his smile is dazzling, and his fingers shine with silver rings and jewelry as he extends his hand to you, introducing himself. “good afternoon. i’m yuta, i just started here and i’ll be piercing you today. are you comfortable with that?” he asks, and you’re so entranced all you say is am oh, yeah, of course.

his voice is so hypnotizing, along with everything else about him, and you go through the entire consultation about your anatomy completely unaware of what’s going on. it’s only when he puts on his black gloves that you come back to earth, blinking back to life.

“sorry, so, i can get it right?” you ask, a little dazed.

he’s quick to catch onto how you’re feeling, turning to a random drawer while your jewelry sterilizes (when did it get there?). all of a sudden he’s pulling out a heart shaped lollipop, cherry flavor, ripping the wrapper off and holding it out to you.

his smirk is evident, eyelids drooping in a way that makes you feel all tingly. “yeah, ‘course.” his eyes trail you up and down, watching you in silence for a beat before flipping a switch and going straight into professional mode.

with deft and experienced fingers, he cleans your skin and prepares all his materials, neatly laying them out on a tray.

finally, he addresses you again, “okay, pretty, i’m just about ready to do it. stay super still for me, ‘kay!”

you hum, and he takes that as a sign to get going. your piercing point is marked, and you get chills when his fingers brush against your skin. he’s so close to you, your eyes right in line with his chest and the array of necklaces hanging from his neck. his cologne fills your nose, and it’s so intoxicating that you didn’t even notice when the needle went through until he started putting the jewelry in.

“ah, good girl. you’re all done now.” he pulls his gloves off, still holding that smug, flirty look as he wipes your eyes from where they watered.

he hands you a mirror over his shoulder while he puts his stuff away to be cleaned, simultaneously putting together a little care package you prepaid for. once done he hands it to you with a wink, leaving you with a ‘have a good day’ before exiting the room.

sitting in your car before leaving the shop, you open the small mesh bag to see what he left in there. stickers, saline cleaner, and a card giving you the healing time. on the back, there’s a phone number written on it. you don’t even think twice before saving it in your phone and texting the number.

pulling out of the parking lot, you think, yeah. he’s definitely as hot as they say.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ✦　

nct taglist: @coquettejunnie @chenlezip

[rwshfordgirl]

Heyyy, just so you know, I adore you and everything you write, I’m serious!!! And the best part is that you’re Brazilian ❤️❤️❤️

Could you write something for Jude where the reader kind of rejects him at first because he’s not her type, based on the way he dresses and all that, but then she sees him in the team uniform and totally changes her mind? (I just thought of this because I saw some pics of Jude in a kinda funny outfit that’s really not my type, but I still think he’s super hot lol).

Sorry if this is a bit vague or confusing.

I thought a lot about whether to write in Portuguese or English hahaha.

NOT MY TYPE

all the images were taken from pinterest.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader!

a/n: i remember seeing a post of yours in portuguese right after i followed you talking about sabrina, i thought and i was like "omg she speaks my language." 😭😭 mas você é brasileira também? fiquei na dúvida! e pode falar comigo em qualquer idioma, é bom falar em português aqui, as vezes minha indignação parece fazer mais sentido hahah 🗣

and talking about jude bellingham, his worst outfit is always the next one 😭 lucky for him he plays well and has a pretty face

anyway, hope you like it ;) obrigada pelo carinho, diva

requests are open | check here my masterlist

You had no idea Laila knew so many people, it was like she had reserved an entire floor of the restaurant just for the guests. But the atmosphere was incredible, lots of laughter, loud conversation and the sound of background music playing very softly. You and your friends talked and laughed for nothing.

But you felt someone looking at you, which made you turn your face over and over again, without being able to identify who was watching you.

Laila knows many well-known English players, she always watched her brother's games when he tried to pursue a football career. One of those players is here today, Jude Bellingham, sitting a few feet away from you, chatting with some friends and looking at you whenever he can.

He had already seen you in photos that Laila posts on Instagram, catching his attention. But seeing you in person took him by surprise, you were even more beautiful.

"Laila, come here please." He called the birthday girl. "Who is she?" He asked Laila as soon as she approached him. Jude didn't point at you, he just turned his gaze in your direction.

"Oh, she's my friend and we're neighbors." Laila looked at him suspiciously. "Why? Are you interested?"

"Perhaps."

"I'll see what I can do for you."

You watched as Laila walked away from Jude with a small smile and walked towards you. "What?" you mumbled when you saw her looking at you.

"Remember I told you once that I have a friend who plays football in Madrid?" She said unceremoniously as she sat down in the empty chair next to you.

You nodded. Laila and her boyfriend go to Madrid all the time just to watch him play.

"You talk about him all the time, impossible to forget."

Laila laughed and turned her face towards Jude who was watching the conversation apprehensively, completely oblivious to the chatter of his friends around him. You ended up following the girl's gaze and saw Jude turning his face away when he saw your gaze on him.

"Is that him?" You questioned.

"Yes, himself. Jude Bellingham."

"Hmm, and why did you bring up this topic out of nowhere?"

Laila bit her lips.

"You're my friend, he's my friend, you're single and so is he... I thought it would be a good idea to get you two together and Jude said he was interested in you."

You laughed.

"Sorry Laila, that's not going to happen. He's not my type."

Laila's eyes widened.

"I think you should get out of your comfort zone. Jude is a nice guy, you should see the way the girls in Madrid talk about him."

"Another topic for my list of cons, I can't imagine myself with someone so coveted like that. And he's very handsome, but he has a very different style of clothes, definitely not my type.

Laila nodded and laughed lightly at your comment.

"He really dresses badly, but he's a nice guy." you smiled "But that's okay, maybe another time."

Your eyes followed Laila again, she took the information to Jude, who in turn, seemed upset when he heard from his friend that you're not interested. He was teased by his friends and exchanged glances with you for the last time. Something that made Jude not want to give up on you so easily.

1 week later

"Hey, where are you?" You called Laila as soon as you left the hotel you were staying at.

You arrived in Madrid two days ago for academic purposes, the college always organizes trips to other places and you always go along when you can.

Laila was already here before you arrived, as usual, she and her boyfriend came to see Jude Bellingham.

"We're going to Wanda Metropolitano, you should come too. I told Jude you were in town and he got me an extra ticket in case you wanted to come."

You processed the information slowly. Going to Jude's game after having dumped him didn't seem like a good idea to you. However, you got the impression that he wouldn't mind your presence there, since according to Laila, he had made a ticket available just for you.

"Okay, just explain to me how I can get there."

Laila explained to you which subway line to take to get to the stadium. The journey there takes an hour according to Google, but you were willing to face that time inside a carriage.

It's a new and unique experience, you're used to second and third division English league games. Watching a Champions League game in Madrid sounds pretty exciting to you. Even if you still think it wouldn't be a good idea to go because of the situation with Jude.

The minutes inside the subway passed quickly. The surroundings of the stadium were crowded as expected. Laila had arranged to meet you at the entrance reserved for guests and so she did.

"Oh, so glad you came. I wish this game was in Santiago so you could see what it's really like."

She said as she hugged you.

"I have to thank Jude for the invitation, I didn't expect that from him. I thought he was upset about what happened on his birthday."

"It was no big deal, Jude is a nice guy and doesn't care much about that stuff."

You nodded

"Come on, we have to register you so you can stay there with us."

Your friend grabbed your arm and led you to the guest registration area. You received a personalized badge and took a photo to send to your parents.

"You're going to love it."

Laila guided you to the space where she was with the other friends from Bellingham, because it wasn't at Bernabeu, they wouldn't have the right to a box. But, they were right behind the Merengues' bench.

The atmosphere inside the stadium was insane, you felt a different emotion. Everything looked amazing, including Jude Bellingham on the big screen.

"What?" You said to yourself.

Real Madrid were warming up on the pitch and Jude was in his pre-match uniform. Something that made your heart beat faster, Jude was more handsome than the first time you had seen him. There was nothing different about his face, nothing. Just a Real Madrid uniform that enhanced the beauty of the English player.

"Is this the same Jude from your party?" Você perguntou a Laila.

"Himself. Why?"

You looked at her and smiled embarrassedly.

"I think I've changed my mind about him not being my type, I'm going to make him wear that uniform every day."

"You're crazy, but lucky you he didn't forget you." Laila chuckled subtly, "Pray for Real Madrid to win today, I'll talk to him after the game." She blinked.

Your eyes weren't focused on anyone else but Bellingham. When the match started and the pre-match uniform was replaced by the white game shirt, your heart beat faster. Which made you bitterly regret having said that he wasn't your type because of an ugly outfit he wore. You could watch him play all day.

Seeing Jude and watching such an electrifying match got you excited. You were looking forward to talking to Jude.

You two only saw each other in the stadium parking lot hours after the game.

"I'm glad you came." He came up behind you right after he had spoken to his friends.

"Thanks so much for the ticket, Jude! It was a great game, by the way."

He smiled at me.

"Are you doing anything later?" He scratched his head "Laila said you changed your mind."

You were embarrassed, but Jude didn't seem to care.

"Sorry about that." You almost whispered.

"Relax, it happens! Let's start from the beginning."

You smiled at him.

"Take advantage and take him to buy new clothes." Laila passed by you.

[springismss]

ᱬ⛧ jealousy, jealousy ~ dabi

sum: just some jealous! dabi thoughts.

pairing: dabi x girlfriend! reader

content: 18+ - mdni below cut. jealousy p in v, language, teasing, dirty talk, cream pie, orgasm denial, possessive talk, implied/suggested multiple rounds, slight chocking, bruising/marking, reader gets called doll/princess/baby/good girl, general NSFW content.

a/n: oh look, a post that's not a jjk fandom one, oops. regaining my love for this burnt boi, holy fuck. on a side note, an old request from my wattpad days, with a fresh feel. as always likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated!

links: bnha/mha masterlist | masterlist

jealous! dabi who doesn’t show any kind of emotion at any point to anyone. it’s scarily complex to read him at times, however, there is one exception to that

jealous! dabi who, when you’re talking to someone, will stand nearby and listen to what you have to say to the lowlife you’re talking to. he knows you don’t have anything to hide from him, he’s just a little insecure about who he is and how he looks at the best of times.

jealous! dabi who’s in a touch-what’s-mine-and-i’ll-kill-you mood 99.9% of the time he’s awake. he won’t hesitate to use his quirk on whoever dares enter your personal space, ask best friend! toga, she was on the receiving end of a near-miss hit from his flames. in her defence, you were going through a rough moment and she was only trying to cheer you up.

jealous! dabi who overhears a mutual villain friend talking to you one night. who hears that he thinks “you look fine” and that he’ll “take you somewhere more comfortable”. the somewhat uncomfortable giggle you let out at the words made him nearly incinerate the pair of you before he caught the look of disgust on your face.

jealous! dabi who decides enough is enough as he steps forward into the light, just in time to see you try and push away the man as he grabs your arm. he knew you’d had enough of this wannabe’s bullshit.

jealous! dabi who joins you by your side in seconds, arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer to him, fingers digging into your hip, much to your amusement. you knew that he was pissed and things weren’t going to end well. judging by that look, he was trying hard to control the flames he wanted to throw out.

jealous! dabi who, once he hears the lowlife talking, tuts in annoyance. “ahhh, dabi, fancy seeing you here. i was just about to ask this beauty to keep me company for the night”. who may or may not have gotten a little too flame-happy when he stepped forward, gripping onto the others' top.

jealous! dabi who turns you to and bends over slightly, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as you try to kick him in the stomach. you were more than capable of walking back yourself but of course, he had to throw a hissy fit and had the nerve to lug you around until he found a more private place for you both. well as private as it could be out in public.

jealous! dabi who, while walking, takes time to tease your cunt through your panties smirking smugly when you not only moan out but also cuss him out. “dabi, i swear i’ll fucking~”. with a quick retort of “fucking me you mean, doll”. you could punch him.

jealous! dabi who drops you to your feet when he settles on a place, pinning you against the wall as he skins two fingers, knuckles deep, into your cunt. savouring the look of embarrassment and pleasure that flashes on your face as you bite back a moan. he only takes a few moments before he’s helping you jump up only to sink you down on his cock, savouring the way you clamp around him as you finally moan out his name.

jealous! dabi who, on other days when someone dares enter your personal space, will tease you relentlessly with lingering touches and words that make you rub your legs together. telling you exactly how he’s going to fuck you into every surface he can until you're sobbing from the pleasure only he can give you. who’ll walk away to leave you alone with your now active thoughts and flustered appearance.

jealous! dabi who, when he’s had enough do the other lowlifes, won’t give you a moment to breathe between ripping that mind-blowing orgasm thanks to his mouth from you to sinking his cock past the ring of resistance, practically moulding your already tight walls to his shape. “don't think you got the message last time, so i guess i’m just going to have to get it through your skull again, doll”.

jealous! dabi who mutters out other sentences like “who do you belong to?". "who’s the only one making you feel this good". "i’m the only one who gets to fuck you and talk to you like that, understand, baby?".

jealous! dabi who’s rough when he fucks you but when he’s in these moods, he’s the extreme side of rough. you lose feeling in your legs and you’ll have trouble walking for the next few days. at least you’ll be away from prying eyes while you are.

jealous! dabi who makes you blush when he talks to you mid fuck, despite him already pistoning into you like a man possessed. “no one else can, shit, stretch your pussy this good", "f-fuck, you grip me perfectly, “does my cock feel, h-ah, good buried deep in your cunt?".

jealous! dabi who, regardless of your current position, likes to wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze slightly, knocking the breath out of you slightly as he forces you to look at him, tears of pleasure fall down your cheeks as you grip his forearm.

jealous! dabi who can’t help but hiss out more possessive sentences as he folds you in half, legs dangling in front of your face as you whimper from the sudden change of position. "you’re mine, got that? i’m the only one who can fuck you like this". "i’m the only one who gets to be in your cunt, marking you in a way no other man can”.

jealous! dabi whose favourite thing is orgasm when he's in this mood. who loves making you beg for it. he won’t let you crumble to your beautiful euphoria, unless you're a sobbing mess underneath him, shaking from the force then he might make an exception.

jealous! dabi who loves the feeling of your pussy being incredibly wet for him at times like that. the way your slick covers not only the outside of your cunt and your thighs but his cock and thighs as well. knows that when he finally lets you come, you’ll squirt a little more over him and drip onto the bed as well.

jealous! dabi who smirks down at you as you dares you to “beg me to let you come, princess. beg me to fill you full of nothing but me”. who can feel the soaked walls of your cunt pulsate at his voice, silently begging him to let you feel your euphoria before you manage out a string of incoherent words, much to his amusement. “i know you can do better than that, doll”.

jealous! dabi who makes more of a point by stopping his thrusting, moving his hand from your neck and placing them both by your head, caging you beneath him. “come on baby, tell me how much you want me to fill you up with my come, to having it dripping down your thighs for everyone to see who you belong to”.

jealous! dabi who can be more hands-on than usual, not in the sense of leaving black and blue marks across your skin, but red marks. on your thighs, back, neck and chest. bites and scratches to show everyone out there who fucks you to the point of no return. who you belong to regardless of what they may try.

jealous! dabi who rants as he pushes his cock back into your walls in a harsh rhythm, stating that he thinks "you like to make me jealous so i can destroy your insides” because “why else would you let those fuckers anywhere near you?”.

jealous! dabi who uses the excuse of being jealous so he can bury himself inside you as rough as he physically can muster because he doesn’t dare do it daily. sure he fucks you but not as harsh as he does when he’s jealous.

jealous! dabi who loves the way you mewl and cry out for him to let you come, you couldn’t take much more and you were slowly losing your sanity. who gives a countdown until you can let go. if he thinks you’re going to ruin that, he’ll stop his thrusts and pull out with your moans of frustration sounding in the room.

jealous! dabi who’ll make you suffer for a few moments before pushing his cock back into you again, daring you to let go with a smug “did i say you could come yet?”.

jealous! dabi who’ll, when you mutter out a quick “no” and “p-please, dabi, i c-can’t hold on”, give your thighs or ass, sometimes both, a few harsh slaps to get his point across. who loves feeling you quivering beneath him when he knows you won't last much longer. beginning his countdown once more, only to draw it out as painfully slow as he can.

jealous! dabi who’ll, when he finally reaches one, thrusts harshly into one more, cock head hitting against your cervix as he lets out an almost primal growl, ropes of thick come spurting out to fill you to the point of feeling so full. who savours the feeling of your cunt milking him, your own euphoria making your eyes roll as you come along with him, squirting on his thighs as well. “good girl”.

jealous! dabi who’ll take his time pulling out of you, smirking at the sight of his seed spilling out of your puffy pussy and running down to the sheets. a bound growl if he knows your own slick is mixed in there.

jealous! dabi who’ll pull you closer to him when he lays down beside you, gripping ahold of you tightly to make sure you’re not planning on going anywhere. not that you could anyway.

jealous! dabi who’s actually scared! dabi once everything is said and done.

scared! dabi who’ll place uncharacteristically soft kisses on your face, lips and neck, taking the time to apologise for being too rough with you. who finds himself relaxing to the patterns you draw on his chest as you rest your head above his heart, humming along to the drumming rhythm.

scared! dabi who doesn’t want you to leave him, because one thing that followed him around for most of his life, is the feeling of being forgotten and tossed aside. who gets overly jealous because he wants to be the only man you have your attention on at any given time.

scared! dabi who closes his eyes at your touches, listening to your words of assurance and love as you promise you’re not leaving, the only way you’ll leave him is if you were dead. who feels overwhelmed when he’s vulnerable, wanting to know he’s not alone.

scared! dabi who’ll always feel like that young boy he once was. who was given up on at an early age so he learnt to harden his heart to anyone and everyone he came in contact with.

scared! dabi who thanks whatever being out there you came into his life, showing him that not everyone was the same. who thanks his lucky stars that you gave him your time and broke those walls down one small step at a time.

scared! dabi who doesn’t always fuck you rough, despite what everyone thinks and how he looks. who’ll always spend days after fucking into you harshly making sure you’re okay in his own ways. who’ll always be gentle with you when you both end up wrapped around each other in bed next.

scared! dabi who’s come to learn that while he doesn’t like it sometimes, jealous! dabi will always be a part of him and a part you’ll love regardless.