#so im pretty sure this is some good luck
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misty-the-mysterious · 2 years ago
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I've done 41 summons on Suiter Idia so far, I'm scrounging around wherever I can to try and get more, but so far I've gotten SSR Floyd, Azul, and Deuce. Floyd and Azul were within 3 single summons and Deuce decided to come hang out last night. I feel like this is super good luck but it's on every character BUT the one I'm after WJEGEKSJDDIDJS
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koszmarnybudyn · 1 year ago
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The kids are fine :)
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shannonsketches · 1 year ago
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I know it's a bit of a taboo topic to talk about in the fandom rn, but director Wes Ball does amazing work with Mo-Cap, even creating entire short films with nothing but. Do you think this kind of technology would work better than traditional CGI to bring our beloved world to life?
Absolutely not. All due respect to Mr Ball, but his taste and mine are wildly different. I’m a huge fan of practical effects, and while CGI certainly has its place and it’s undeniable value, I would honestly rather watch a cosplay fan film shot on an iPhone than a multimillion dollar mocap cgi movie.
It’s a huge peeve of mine to say someone is doing a live action adaptation and then animate the entire thing in a hyper-realistic style. Mocap is digital rotoscoping, he talks about working in Unreal. It’s animation! It’s just animation with a lot less flavor and a lot more limitations grounded in hyper-realism than you could’ve had if you’d made what you’d just go ahead and call an animated film.
I imagine it will be almost entirely hyper-realistic mocap cgi, and considering he openly supports ai it will probably contain that as well, and I’m a little sick about it ngl.
But I was rooting for Illumination Zelda and I know people hated that idea too, so what do I know.
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meownotgood · 2 years ago
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Hey mags! How are you?
So, this is really self-indulgent, so I apologize if I ramble a little-
Recently I decided to do a hair transition back to my natural wavy hair, and it's been kinda hard taking care of it bc I never learned the right way to do so (I couldn't figure out if it was wavy or curly so at some point I just gave up and straightened it) but now I think it's a little better than it was before, but I've had some people tell me that the haircut I got looks weird, so that really bummed me out bc I don't know how to properly style it yet.
So, could I please ask for some thoughts on aki reacting to reader that changed hairstyle from medium size and straight to short and wavy? This is very specific and kind of silly, but it has affected me way more than I'd like to admit hdhajsha
Love your blog btw! I hope you have a nice day/night! 💕💕
yes, of course!!!
I think aki is pretty peculiar about how he keeps his own hair, so he's bound to notice a change in yours. he asks you a little bluntly, why'd you change your hairstyle? and when you answer, he says, hm. I like it this way. it's pretty.
and he's no expert on hair styling, but if you'd like, he'd be willing to offer some help. it upsets him to think of you not being happy with your appearance, he wants you to feel as beautiful as he thinks, knows that you are. he does some more research on styling and asks if he can try doing your hair for a change, hoping to cheer you up and pamper you a little.
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seilon · 1 year ago
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jesus christ I feel like shit
#thank god for testosterone making me unable to cry like a normal person because I sure would be otherwise#im as close as I can get to it pretty much#cant wait for my mom to get back today or tomorrow and ask me when I start the new job and I’ll just have to say oh yeah :) they never#called back actually :) haha#I know they made it sound close to certain but lol guess not!#kibumblabs#i fucking hate this I hate getting invested in anything and putting in time and effort into shit just to get fucking spat on#just emailed the general hotel email but I doubt that’ll do anything. anything good anyway#cause the restaraunt/club is managed seperately I’ll probably just get the runaround or a ‘I’ll let her know you contacted us’ which#literally never actually means anything#either that or I’ll just be rejected indirectly which won’t exactly make me feel. better#I also applied for the 8000th time to another place for a similar job but I’ve never had luck with this place so that’ll probably also#result in nothing#woohoo it’s fucking September and we’re still stuck at fucking square one! hahaahaahahahaah SO cool#for real it should actually be a fucking legal requirement to give your applicants/interviewees some form of follow-up. it’s just so#fucking degrading to try and follow-up and just being ghosted. like what’s the point of that#it feels simultaneously like rejection and being strung along at the same time. i talked to you in person the least you could do is give#me any kind of update. for the love of god
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simpjaes · 8 months ago
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HYPER-SEXUAL (s,jy)
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If there’s anything in life that Jake wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need. or the one where jake is inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.
leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner. 
minors do not interact. 
WORDCOUNT― 13.8k
PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader
CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant jake, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets jake go absolutely insane on her
NOTE― not proof read in the way it needed to be.  disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. also this is posted on my other blog [@ncteez] for mark lee. yes, i wrote it for both of them bc they both fit the shoe ok? ok.
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags― jake isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, jake’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 
Jake slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny. 
Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three. 
Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point. 
It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself. 
The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again. 
It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting. 
For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Jake has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway. 
Almost given up.
A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Jay in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Jake is proud to admit.
“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Jay had said to him. “It’s only June!”
Maybe Jay was right, and maybe Jake should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Jay had advertised. “Even got Jungwon laid.” 
Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Jake has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jungwon laid, surely it could get him laid too. 
Maybe this one really is better.
And at the end of the day, Jake does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though? 
We’ll see.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Ah. Okay. Nice.
Jake stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh. 
The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck. 
Safe to say, Jake’s profile went a little something like this: 
you can call me jake, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.
LOOKING FOR: Female PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more] PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]
NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn
Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 
Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him. 
He can only imagine what the fuck Jungwon had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Jake is desperate and so was Jungwon at one point. 
Apparently girls like desperate guys. 
Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually. 
“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?” 
“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?” 
“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”
Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.
Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.
Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Jake probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did. 
And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real. 
“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”
One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–
Oh.
Fuck yeah.
He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?” 
Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.
He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God. 
You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.
And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?
You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.  
Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances. 
Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?
Please.
Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 
And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you. 
Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems. 
Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back. 
Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally. 
JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?
Dick pic #1. 
JAKE_02 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol
Dick pic #2 
JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 
JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Please? :(
Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it. 
JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Do you already have me silenced?
JAKE_02 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….
JAKE_02 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”
Oh, he has an accent. 
JAKE_02 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?
JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff? 
JAKE_02 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot 
JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw? 
Etcetera. 
And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed. 
You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond. 
YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 
It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone. 
YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby. 
JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that
JAKE_02: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again
YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then? 
Yes, you’re teasing him. 
JAKE_02: if you’d let me
YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?
JAKE_02: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again
You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you. 
YOURUSERNAME: show me?
And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?
YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?
Oh, shit. Jake could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.  
JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now. 
JAKE_02: let me come over and show you
YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me
And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.
Public meeting first. 
Always.
JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense. 
JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then
You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits. 
Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 
And the photo is all but enough for Jake. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…
This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden. 
He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it. 
JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….
JAKE_02: pussy….
JAKE_02: please show me your pussy
Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice. 
And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open. 
When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again. 
JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um
JAKE_02: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want
You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately. 
And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.
YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot? 
JAKE_02: ….would u want me to? 
YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good
JAKE_02: hahah damn
JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?
YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you
JAKE_02: ok cool :)
And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Jake is gonna be fun. 
JAKE_02 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good
Sounds promising. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.
Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 
Perhaps even, hot. 
You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same accent you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.
 Oh wow. 
On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying. 
 Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock. 
Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.
Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough. 
You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used. 
No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy. 
It’s hot. 
And when you approach, Jake nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first. 
“Hi, did you find everything you–” Jake stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.”  He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.
You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot. 
No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.
“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 
It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 
You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal. 
No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.
“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.” 
You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there. 
“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”
Jake swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.
“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.” 
Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place. 
“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.” 
“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Jake?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.” 
“Please–” Jake blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this. 
“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”
His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you. 
“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.
“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.
Jake swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse? 
Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then? 
Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you. 
You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.
Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now. 
And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.
“Here it is.” Jake says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.” 
You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever. 
It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Jake is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers. 
You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open. 
You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally. 
He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot. 
“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny. 
And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.  
“Jake,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”
You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain. 
“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove. 
Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things. 
And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan. 
You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place. 
“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”
He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more. 
Jake’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.
And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Jake keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand. 
“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket. 
“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”
You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket. 
“I’ll text you my address.” 
And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end. 
Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently. 
It’s not doing anything to hold him over though. 
He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.
Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again. 
“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles. 
Jake wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy. 
“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater. 
Jake doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right. 
“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!” 
Jake would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too. 
And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough. 
“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!” 
“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.
He needs to leave. Right now.
“S’all good,” Jake shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!” 
And finally, Jake can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum. 
He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful. 
Careful isn’t something Jake can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work. 
He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle. 
“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck. 
He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore. 
You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems.  He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.
“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.” 
You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect. 
“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”
Jake nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind. 
“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”
You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back. 
“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”
“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”
“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”
Jake groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either. 
It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours. 
“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone. 
“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it. 
The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.
“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”
“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”
You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”
If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.
Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you. 
“Ah, fuck–” Jake groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….
“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads. 
The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair. 
Jake lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up. 
It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.
“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath. 
He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud. 
“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”
As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you. 
You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue. 
“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really? 
Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?
 “God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you. 
He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself. 
Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue. 
Oh fuck.
“Ahh- '' Jake moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything. 
You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him. 
“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?” 
He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face. 
There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.
Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.
“Jake–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose. 
He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn. 
And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you. 
Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now. 
You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock. 
“Hah–” Jake lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”
You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose. 
He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Jake managed to keep them shoved out of his way. 
“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”
Jake has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer. 
Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match. 
You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling. 
He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow. 
Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too. 
You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Jake just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.
“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”
Right. Bedrooms exist.
Jake follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him. 
You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time. 
You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.
He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.
He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward. 
Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp. 
“Could eat you out again.” Jake mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead. 
Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Jake could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please. 
“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated. 
He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 
“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?” 
Jake nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it. 
“Do you work tomorrow?” 
He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him. 
“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”
Oh, damn. 
The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Jake. 
Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night. 
Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…
“Yeah?” Jake breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”
Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are. 
“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”
God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock. 
“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–” 
He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.
“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”
Jake moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body. 
“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”
With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches. 
Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore. 
You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely. 
That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.
And god, Jake loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…
Oh no.
“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.
And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.
Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries. 
“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely. 
He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay. 
He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more. 
“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”
That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you. 
“Don’t say that, oh god–” Jake mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”
Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.
Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.
And as Jake catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.
“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms. 
And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes. 
“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would. 
His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…
His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips. 
“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways. 
Good. 
“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,”  He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”
You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips. 
“Well, Jake–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”
Jake rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.
“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Jake groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”
You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this. 
“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.
It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.
Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t. 
Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.
He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold. 
You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.
“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time. 
The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Jake is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.
For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Jake can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.
He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained. 
“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”
Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation. 
Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently. 
“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”
You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw. 
“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”
A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw. 
“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”
You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope. 
“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”
Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 
“You can have it any time you want.” Jake smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.” 
You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.
“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”
You shake your head. 
“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 
Jake feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl. 
Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of. 
“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again. 
“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.
“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”
Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this. 
“Yes, Jake,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”
His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use. 
“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”
You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot. 
“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”
Oh.
“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”
So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic. 
“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”
This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control. 
“You want me to sit on it, Jake?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction. 
The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth. 
Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it. 
He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are. 
And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch. 
“That’s it.” Jake soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.
And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it. 
“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving. 
Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation. 
It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation. 
You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed. 
“Oh, oh shit, Jake–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no. 
“What– What’s wrong?!” Jake’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing. 
Pushing, pushing, pushing.
“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest. 
Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 
“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 
And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.
“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe. 
Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before. 
Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–
“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours. 
Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds. 
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”
At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.
But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural. 
And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression. 
“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.” 
And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The rest didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Jake remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.
To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves. 
And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely. 
Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Jake seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key. 
Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare fucking apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties. 
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bunnis-monsters · 4 months ago
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NSFW
Elf bf with a clan that worships fat women. They’re seen as fertile and signs of good luck, and a way to show that you take such good care of your partner that they are plump and well fed.
So he coos, holding onto your chubby belly and nuzzling into your neck, so happy while you take another bite of some cake he made for you. He just wants to keep you plump and chubby, to ensure he’s taking proper care of his beloved!
He’s deeply in love with the way your tummy jiggles every time he fucks into that fat pussy of yours, and the way your cute chubby cheeks heat up from the whispers of praise he coos into your ear.
“Absolutely stunning, darling…”
Your elf bf absolutely worships your body, grabbing your plump hips and shivering as his lithe fingers sink into your soft flesh.
He’s obsessed with keeping you well fed and happy. He wants to make sure you’re fertile and ready to bear his children, so you have to be nice and plump!
His pretty baby, you’re filling out so well… he couldn’t be happier.
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NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog
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vatelixx · 3 months ago
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On the concept of ‘want’,
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Spencer Reid x afab!BAU!reader (written with early-ish seasons Spencer in mind)
SMUT!! (and fluff, and aftercare because im not a total hedonist), allusions to both Spencer and Reader being switches (but he’s mostly just down bad), autistic Spencer (the way it should be), mean reader (to everyone but him), reader has a very very high IQ when it comes to everything but a pretty genius— Spencer just wants that cookie so fucking bad.
Warnings: sub spencer (but also not entirely; he talks about human anatomy as he destroys her), maaaaaybe slight corruption kink (what? who wrote that there???), mentions of prior bullying and insecurity, first time (for Spencer, yess devirgin that hot nerd!!— do you think the BAU will get him a cake after?), brief mentions of past hypersexuality for reader, kinda rlly domestic. Some undertones of degradation but predominantly praise. Begging, crying (pussy so good he cried), etc etc
w.c: 5k (I feed)
a/n: Spencer’s first time getting fucked, my first time writing smut (we’re both going through it here). I’ve been watching too much Criminal Minds recently, so i’ve reverted back to my tumblr roots (im home i’m home). This is a new acc so like…. hi!!!
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Right person, right time. It’s a concept that Spencer Reid is more than aware of. Define luck, at surface level, it’s a made-up hypothesis, idealistic, fantastical. Conjured up to aid the desperate (or the delusional). It’s something he refused to humour, obstinate to the notion, well, that was until you came spitballing into his life, sharp features, sharper tongue. You could cut with your words alone, a weapon to the BAU, jagged and fast-thinking, and so entirely unattainable. Rorschach tests, and an endless sea of profilers, it doesn’t matter— he’s not sure anyone is ever capable of truly pinpointing you.
Rocky start— after you became a permanent member to the team, it took months to coerce you into dropping your guard. A year and 14 days, to be exact.
But, it was possible. Hardened words and blunt comments shifted into something more with time. A gravitational pull, perhaps, that led to evolution— you, softer with him, more tender than you’ve ever showcased before.
Maybe it was that night when he told you about highschool, about what they did to him, boys like him, who were too intellectual for their own good. Different, in every sense of the word. Bullying at such a young, impressionable age can have prominent effects, chronic stress inflicted on an underdeveloped brain, they tied him to goal posts, stripped him naked, endless torment that he still carries with him now. Maybe that’s why you lowered your defenses. Put down the sword.
And sure, he never expected anything, nor asked for anything. He was definite that he wouldn’t get to experience cliche-dating. Longing glances and anticipated moments. It’s not like he was ever the most appealing candidate, too nervous, too neurodivergent. It’s hard to grow out of the mentality that no, everyone isn’t making fun of you, not when it consumed the entirety of his adolescence. That you can walk into a room, and not be seen, targeted, as an outcast. He’s just different. But he’s also human, and the chemicals in his brain do make him want.
You apparently. Because, you looked at him softly once, and he was done. Ruined. Gone for good. Or, in Morgan’s personal opinion, whipped.
And illogically, you wanted him too. That wasn’t ever part of the equation.
But theres a pattern now— dates every weekend. Movies, cafes, museums, an endless onslaught of you. Because somehow, thanks to luck, you reciprocated. He’ll never understand why, you’re too beautiful (it’s a hazard), but he tries. He tries.
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December. A haze of christmas markets and blanketing coldness. You kiss him outside and he thinks he might be dying. You make him burn cold. He’s a logical person, so obviously he’s aware that he’s only freezing because your hands are shoved in his pockets, a desperate bid to seek warmth, but regardless, it’s more than he ever expected.
He laughs against your lips, fingers gripping the front of your coat as he draws you backwards so that you’re resting against a wall. “Mm..” he hums, “You should kiss me more often.”
Everyone knows. The entire team is aware of this, an unspoken agreement that your lingering moments and aimless touching are not platonic in the slightest. You work with profilers, secrets are never quite effective. Everyone knows, but it’s taboo, something that needs to be left undisturbed. Do they expect you to break him? Does he? Maybe, maybe it would be worth it— to hurt for you, because it’s always been you. He’ll take anything, he’s not greedy. He’ll live off scraps if he has to, anything to satiate this want that burns solely for you.
“Actually.. you should just always be kissing me,” he suggests, tone soft, “Every day of the week. All the time. And—“ he laughs, “You should also stop stealing body warmth. It’s rude. Hypothermia usually occurs when body temperature dips to around 95F, oh oh but there are so many factors to consider—“
“Is this you trying to imply you’re cold?” you ask.
“Perhaps. Or maybe i’m implying you should be working harder to warm me up.”
You’ve grown soft, he thinks. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this level of affection. But its okay, you justify, mostly because it’s him. Spencer, and his pretty smile, and strange habits (sitting cross legged on tables, drinking coffee with excessive sugar, endless facts and a plethora of soft yearning glances at you when you’re interrogating— as if you’re not tearing an unsub to pieces). It’s terrifying, constant eggshells, because you can’t hurt him. Not like the others, distant fragments of your past.
You laugh in response to his comment, admiring the sight of him: flushed, with swollen lips and dilated eyes. He deserves to be like this, so thoroughly assured that despite all odds, you’re invested. All cards on the table. “You have a lot of requests, boy genius.”
He smiles boyishly. You’re hard lines, sure, a blade that can draw blood, but somehow, somehow, he’s always left unscathed. “Alright,” he answers, “You want requests? Here’s one, stay the night. Come over, stay over, i’ll cook breakfast and try not to burn it— and, and you can have the good side of the bed.”
“Spence,” you mutter, because of course there’s an underlying intention to ‘staying over’ and you're trying to be good here. To not let this fall into your past mistakes of sex and inevitable self-inflicted disgust. A cyclical cycle that clings to your skin. Everything is so new to him, the intimacy, the affection, and it’s nice being able to witness it— to see his reactions to innocuous touches, always disbelieving that he’s capable of this.
Fresh-eyes, so untainted to the sharpness of modern ‘love’.
You cup his face, god, under the dim shadows of the streetlight he’s beautiful. It’s a little alarming to be honest. More so disheartening really, because despite how much you remind him, he never believes you— obstinately refusing your compliments, as if you’d ever mock him. No, he’s different. He’s tender and disarming, and sometimes it feels unholy to touch him with calloused hands.
But, to Spencer, there is nothing unholy to this; the second you touch him, the entire universe crashes down into a singular moment.
“Just stay the night,” he reaffirms. It’s taken him over a month to get to this point, to be able to voice his wants, to comprehend his wants. Now, his thumb traces its way down the side of your face, tangible, real. “And tomorrow morning, there’ll be coffee and pancakes and—“ he laughs, “And there won’t be any regrets. I promise.”
You’re looking at him, wide-eyed and slightly disbelieving (because he’s somehow stumbled through the minefield of you without any consequences). He leans forward, his forehead resting against yours. “Don’t make me beg. I will beg.”
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To confirm, he makes you incautious, irrational, willing to blatantly disregard any sort of control. Of course you end up at his apartment; the moment he mentioned begging, you were already half-way down the street.
Spencer’s place is… well, it’s everything you’d expect of him. Scattered novels adorning the floor, a mess of untidy thoughts, neglected papers on science, endless open textbooks left half-abandoned for other pursuits. It’s so him, clean but discombobulated.
He wants to apologize, make excuses for the lack of order, he probably should. He doesn’t do that though. He only crosses the room, stopping when he’s standing right in front of you, just gazing down. He has no idea what’s to come— for once, there are no patterns, no statistics he can reference.
So, he reaches for you, fingers tugging at the edges of your jacket. “Arms. Up,” he instructs and god, it’s a stupid order, but you follow it without any protest. He folds it over the couch, abandoned. Putting it back on alludes to leaving, and he’s hopeless enough to never want you to leave.
His hands then gravitate back to you and he starts to tug aimlessly at the material of your shirt. It’s been raining, and the fabric is soaked. “Hm,” he hums, “Off. Take it off.”
You laugh at that. Straight to the point. You don’t follow his orders, because one was certainly enough, and you’ve never been the type to obey blindly. Instead, you grip his waist, drive him back towards the nearest surface. An end table, some books go clattering, light damage, they’ll survive. His response is a gasp, a hitch of the breath.
“I was promised the good side of the bed, breakfast, pancakes. But sex? Hm, did you invite me over just to get in my pants? I’m wounded, Reid.” you mutter, pressing a series of soft kisses along the curvature of his jaw.
“No! No,” he retorts, breathless, “I was going to get you some comfortable clothes to change into. Damp clothes breed bacteria. You made this dirty,” Adding, “And not in the way I was concerned about.” under his breath.
You roll your eyes, “Oh, here we go—“ sure, you have the experience he lacks, but you’ve been on your best behavior. Dirty? That’s an insult to the exhausting self-restraint you’ve upheld recently.
“Yes— i’m the dirty one here, clearly.” you scoff, “Just casually corrupting you,” You tug him away from the end-table because you don’t want him bruised in any way, shape or form (it’s actually distressing; when you’re working, you seem hellbent on making sure no one even thinks about laying a hand on him. Unsubs be damned.)
Ego-centric, completely independent, individualistic until he came along.
You push him back against the couch, watching as he stumbles, as he falls. For a minute he just lies there, looking up at you with hazy eyes— pupils dilated and lips parted on a half-pained gasp.
And it’s a sight to see, the brilliant prodigy, the young genius, his normally-composed features now twisted into something stricken. His hands tighten around the material of the couch and he lets out a sound that’s a cross between a whine and a groan.
“Oh—“ that’s just a clear-cut moan, “You can definitely definitely keep corrupting me, in fact I endorse it. Completely.”
“3 PHDS, 2 B.A’s and you’re currently asking me to corrupt you? I don’t know, Doctor Reid, that’s certainly very forward,” you say, moving to sit on his lap, aware that you really should entertain this spot more often, even if you’re at severe risk of deflating.
Deflating. God. When did it come to this?
He laughs, “You’re the only person in this entire world that makes me act without a single coherent thought,” IQ abolished. “So yeah,” he murmurs, fingers tracing mindless patterns across the exposed strip of skin above your waistline. “Defini-definitively corrupt me.”
It’s taken so much to get to this point. So much to unpack, to understand, from Spencer’s perspective. There’s a lifetime of bullying that he has to dismantle, and sometimes he still anticipates the punchline when you kiss him— the biting laughs, not entirely dissimilar to school, when someone would belittle him, fake being his friend just for entertainment value.
So, when you stumble into the bedroom, when you remove his shirt, he knows this is improvement. He’s fighting this internal battle, unsure on how he should act: coy or defiant. Both, really. He wants to cover himself up, to pretend like you don’t disarm him, to fight and fight until you make him bleed. Anything, he’ll take anything from you.
“You are so so pretty,” you mutter when he’s sprawled out across the bed. You’ve never been someone to resort to praise; sex had always been cold and clinical, something to relieve stress, to undermine the burden of work, and the endless weight of sanguinary. But now? If he is the eye of the storm, then you’ll happily commit to the chaos of this.
“Careful, you��ll make me inherit a disorder here.” he mutters. Narcism— he’s the least likely to ever develop such symptoms. “Or cry. I could cry, it’s a potential. Maybe break-down?”
“Or,” he adds, his hands tracing up towards your shoulder blades. “All of the above. The trifecta of issues. It’s very likely.”
He rolls over on top, you’re down to just your lingerie now, pretty lace contrasting against your skin. Removing your clothes had been a whole ordeal, he’s fairly certain he almost died; you’re the epitome of beautiful, and he’s not sure how he ended up with everything when he was so resolute, silently accepting, he would always obtain nothing.
“I want to kiss you, but I don’t know, I feel like my body has lost the ability to function at the moment.” he breathes out.
“You should definitely kiss me,” you confirm, posing it as a choice, one that he has any say over— when in reality, youre already tugging him closer. Lips meeting lips. It’s not sane how the world fades into a nebulous haze the moment your mouths connect; time remains constant, logistically, nothing has changed. But it’s just so much that for a moment you doubt the concept of existence, doubt everything but him.
Genius falling for genius. Only you could laugh when he traces molecules into your skin. Spelling out words with elements: Livermorium, Uranium. LV U, it might not be an exact replica of the three worded phrase, but it certainly gets the point across.
“Spence—“ you bite into his lip, tugging the soft tissue between your teeth.
He groans, whimpers, pulls you closer, eliminating every infinitesimal distance between, slotting his hips against yours. He draws away from your mouth, lips leaving a trail of kisses down your neck as he reaches for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours and pinning it against the bed. His free one is now wandering, slipping beneath your panties to touch.
“Do you know how much I studied about human anatomy after you first kissed me?”
“Weeks.” he answers when you respond with a muffled groan. Your hands are on his back now, tracing the journey of his spine. He’s in over his head, but there’s so much want, so much he wants to do but never thought he would be capable of. And oh, when he begins to draw circles against your clit, slow experimental halos, those soft touches of yours evolve into grasping, gripping. By the time he’s got a finger slotted inside, he’s fairly certain he’s being scratched. Nail indents and faint white lines, souvenirs.
“I know about every erogenous zone the human body possesses, every single one.” He says, because whilst he might lack in physical experience, he has enough intellect to memorize placement, biology. Plus, he’s a fast learner. His finger bends, and both of you moan.
“Spence— fuck, feels good.” you gasp, tangled hands clutching tighter, tighter again until your knuckles are white and you’re trembling.
The human body is something of a fascination to him; the way it reacts, how each nerve and ligament can respond to even the most tentative of touches. But you aren’t every human, you are you, and he has an insatiable desire to discover and catalog every single response your body gives.
He adds another finger, slowly, eyes fixed on your face, gauging the reaction. When he curls both digits, a sharp exhale is your response. “I’m convinced I’ve discovered new anatomy facts in the last few months, just because of you.”
Maybe it’s not fair that he’s so good. First times are supposed to be fumbling and awkward, a mess of hormones and inexperience. To say you haven’t been touched like this before is a severe understatement. The meaningless sex, the onslaught of bodies doesn’t measure up to him, the way he’s so focused on how you respond, on what your body enjoys— it would be endearing (and it is!), but you're currently too preoccupied to voice such a notion.
“Doing so good, holy shit—“ you mutter, blissed out beyond comprehension. You're making art on his back, only vaguely aware of the pain. Though when you realize you’ve scarred his skin, you're drawing away, moving to tangle your hand in his hair instead. But Spencer doesn’t even care, doesn’t even register the inflictions; he likes the physical marks you leave behind, a tangible remnant of all you do to him.
And sure, he’d laugh, usually, at your responses. But it’s hard to laugh, when his own ability to form any coherent sound has been completely destroyed. He’s a mess, his breathing shaky, and his brain is a constant buzz of fragmented musings consisting of you, you, you.
He draws his fingers out, earning a discernible groan, maybe a fuck you (which he does intend to do). But right now, he’s already slotting his face between your thighs, removing those soaked, ruined, panties of yours. He doesn’t have a single thing to compare it to. But he already knows this is his favorite place to be, and he’s fairly certain he’ll be spending most nights between your thighs, learning and memorizing every reaction and noise, each movement, and the ways to repeat them.
He runs his tongue along your clit, savoring just how wet you are, a mess that he can bury his face into. You’re looking down at him with something akin to shock now, and he can only laugh, blow air against your clit, then drag his tongue back over the sensitive bud, drawing it into his mouth to suck.
His movements are tentative at first, unpractised, but soon gaining confidence. He doesnt need to do this, you're aware— you could take him now. And yet, hes here, between your thighs for no reason other than want. Your reaction is visceral, because it’s always been about efficiency in the past, quick touches to get you there before the other person can derive their own pleasure from the act.
He’s not like that. God, hes not like that at all.
“Oh,” is all you can say, gripping his hair down to the root, instructing each movement until he gains incentive, finding repeat patterns that your body reacts to. Then, you can only arch and moan, noises filtered out into the air. He’s back to opening you up now, two deft fingers pressed inside, working diligently to tear you apart.
“Oh? That’s all you have to say to me? Oh?” he retorts.
“Shut up,” you huff, “Put that mouth of yours to work.”
“Mhm— I plan to. God, you’re so perfect.” he mutters, voice distorted, muffled. “That’s it—“ he fights the urge to explain exactly what’s occurring in your body every time his fingers abuse that spot. Instead, he keeps his mouth busy.
He’s certain he’s memorized most areas of your body from years of pining, and that’s what brings him an unrepentant sense of satisfaction. Because he was memorizing your body, you, long before he even got the chance to touch or taste you.
“Wanna stay here,” he says, and he’s being petulant now, because there’s something so good about being reduced to movements. To follow the pattern, to take care of your body, mindless to anything else but you. Pussy-drunk, to put it less eloquently.
“Shit,” you buck up against his mouth, watching as he buries his face entirely into you, as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, nose bumping bumping your clit, consuming his senses entirely.
“Use my face, yeah. ‘M all yours anyway.”
“Fuck, fuck fuck— Spence. Gonna cum—“
When you fall apart, inevitable, he doesn’t stop— not until you’re boneless and spent beneath him. Back arching, stars burning through closed eyes. Pretty constellations that have you blissed out beyond belief. The pleasure is white-hot, feverish in intensity.
And then he’s moving, shifting his body back over you. He’s all soft touches and languid kisses against your mouth, not bothering to break contact as he settles himself fully over you, the weight of his hips pressing into yours. He’s hard, dick pushing up against his boxers, his sexual libido had always been low until you came into his life. Now, his wants seem to fight for release constantly.
“My turn, I believe.” he grins, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Not that you have to, of course. It’s not an obligation, uh— more so a beg?”
“Of course it’s an obligation,” he goes to protest, to say you don’t owe him anything, so you sigh. “A thankyou, maybe?”
Fumbling hands, still shaky from pleasure, undo buttons. Unclasping his belt, removing loose fabric until he's bare before you. There’s something nervous to his gaze, something unspoken, lingering in the air. “Hey, hey. I’ve got you, yeah? You’re okay,” you promise, before your eyes shamelessly look down. He’s straining, pre-cum lingering at his tip, dick pressed up against his stomach now. “Fuck, okay— yeah. Good. Great even.” first time you've ever stumbled over a sentence in your life.
There’s so much to be concerned about. The fact he’s naked, that you could destroy everything with a few serrated words, years and years of rebuilding, reconstructing. But you don’t— and he can’t help but laugh nervously. “Glad to be up to your standards. I’d uh, hate to disappoint.”
“Always the over-achiever,” you respond, shifting away from him— there’s amusement to your expression when he groans, pitifully, when he rolls onto his back, draping an arm over his face.
Predictable. Condoms in his bedside table. At least he's prepared. You open the wrapper with your teeth, discarding it somewhere amongst the tangle of limbs and sheets, too hellbent on finding him again.
Oh, in this position, you have full, unrestricted view of his body. Endless planes of skin, begging to be marked, sentenced indefinitely to your touch. By the time you straddle his hips, hes a flushed mess beneath you. “I— um, you look really really pretty right now.” he stumbles, idiot.
His dilated eyes take you in. Every contour and curve, the way your hair hangs over your face, eyes up eyes up eyes up. He fails when you run your hand across his dick, thumb brushing against the tip. By the time you’ve slipped the condom over him, hes gone. Bucking and moaning, and so so much better than his hand could ever be.
He wants to be inside of you, but it’s hard to think right now, let alone vocalize the words. I want, he thinks, I want everything, with you.
Your name is on his tongue, muttered and repeated, a reverent prayer of sorts. He needs to gain back his control here, to return to equal footing.
“Yeah—“ he breathes out, “So much of an overachiever, considering I had you making all of those noises—“ his words falter, die out, when you sink down. When you take him. Wrapped around, tight. Warm heat that sets alight every nerve in his overstimulated body. He has half the mind to apologize for his comment because you’re about to ruin him, he knows.
“I thought you wanted me to corrupt you, hm?” you retort. The pace is slow, mostly for his own sanity. Though, the feel of him, the way he slots into you, warm skin pressed against warm skin is intoxicating, and it’s a battle to keep your composure. To not just fall apart under the weight of him.
“What’s that, pretty boy? Struggling? Because you were so egotistical a few seconds ago? Where’s all that ego gone? Straight between your legs, I think.”
A whimper. It’s a whimper, a pained thing ripped straight from his throat. He’s making indiscernible noises now, messy sounds pooling from his swollen lips. The praise, the strained undertones of degradation? It’s too much. But god does he love you for it, because that’s you through and through. Sharp, and brittle to everyone but him, he wants to look, he does, albeit he has to turn his head to the side, bury half of his face in a pillow because he’s gone. At this point, he can only take it.
“I— um, mhm. Yeah,” he slurs. He’s almost incoherent at this point; he’s been reduced to nothing, just a mass of skin, bone, and flesh at your disposal, to own and use and he can’t find it in himself to feel humiliated about it, not when it’s you.
“Can’t— um, I was wrong, you’re— oh god,” the sounds of your body hitting his, back arching as your pace picks up. “Oh, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry —baby, can’t, can’t take it. That’s…”
It’s a lot for his first time, that’s for certain.
“Yes, you you can. I know you can, Spence.” you mutter, interlocking your fingers, letting them hang near your hips. “You feel so good— so so fucking good. Look at you, so brain dead for me. Taking it all so well, love.”
Love?— oh he wants to be buried with that one. He’s a mindless disaster, impenetrably devoted to you alone.
He doesn’t even know how he’s saying words at this point, it’s as if his brain-to-mouth connection has been severed by your very presence itself. It’s not possible to form a coherent thought when you’re riding him like this, taking him so deep that he’s seeing stars. There’s tears pooling in his eyes, he looks pretty when he cries. Especially when it’s derived from pleasure, when he can let go of the burdens, everything he’s endured, when it’s just sensation. Nothing more, no more thoughts.
There’s safety here, an element of home, home home bliss, that has him keening. He wants to stay buried here forever, where nothing can ever hurt him again. When it’s just you, and your pretty words, and your exploitative power to destroy him. You never do, anyway. Even when you could, you restrain.
“Can’t, ’m gonna…, Please, please, don’t stop.” he whines, “Pleasepleaseplease— oh, can’t— I can’t.”
He grips you tight, rolls you over, mostly so he can feel you closer. The sight of you riding him was excruciating, but this is worse because now there’s no gap separating you. Now, he can bury his face into the crook of your neck, burn himself in the warmth of your touch.
“Spence..” you mutter.
“I know. I know—“ hes ruined, sloppy thrusts, whimpers catching against the stifling air. “Feels s’good.”
He doesn’t know what to do, how to breathe, so he just runs his thumb over your clit, watching your prominent reaction, watching as you gasp, moan— oh, and then you’re clenching around him, tightening the pleasure, and yesyesyes.
You’re too gone, moving still, and he can only cant his hips forwards, buck and squirm until he’s sobbing under the weight of your ministrations, releasing so hard that he can barely remember his name, no cognitive function, in the haze of his orgasm.
“There’s my boy— so pretty for me.” he can vaguely hear you saying, and if you’re talking him through it, he can only hear snippets of praise now anyway.
“Mhm— mhm. Yours, yeah.” he mumbles, body sinking against the sheets, a few little whimpers escaping his lips as you milk the rest of his pleasure from him.
Tangled limbs and sweat-stained skin. “You okay?” you ask in the aftermath.
“So okay,” he agrees, shifting closer, back pressed against your torso— sue him for being little spoon.
──────────────────
The next morning, you wake to an absence of Spencer. It’s unsettling, to say the least. So, you're quick to fumble over the buttons of one of his shirts, fabric creased, matching the tousled nature of your hair, disheveled, remnants of the ruination of last night.
For a moment, you consider that he might’ve left — but there he is, in the kitchen, attempting to make breakfast.
“Hey,” you mutter, leaning against the counter to watch.
Scratches adorn his back, indent marks from your nails, crescent reminders, stain his waist, and he’s content to wear them. If anything, he can’t wait to add to the budding collection.
Pancakes. The good side of the bed. Coffee. All of his promises from last night are being thoroughly met, even if he’s burning the food, and shit, he didn’t realize the coffee would be finished so soon. For all his calculations, he’s fairly off-center today.
And then, you come padding across his kitchen, embellished in only his shirt, unbuttoned near the top to expose your collarbone, and he’s fairly certain the last remainders of his IQ disappear.
“Hi! Hi,” he says, wide-eyed, “Um, making.. breakfast. You look, wow yeah.”
Breakfast lays forgotten.
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norrisainz33 · 5 months ago
Text
Volley || OP81
☆ summary: in which oscar is obsessed with his olympic volleyball playing wife
☆ pairing: oscar piastri x olympic!reader
☆ fc & warnings: jordan thompson + pinterest & none
☆ requested: yes! thank you for the oscar and volleyball suggestion 🤍
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚⠀
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oscarpiastri: one last little trip before my gorgeous wife (god i love saying that) heads to paris! good luck champ 🧡
view all 453 comments
user1: when will it be my turn
user2: they’re the cutest newly weds i hate it (i love it)
landonorris: let’s gooooo mrs piastri!!!!
ynpiastri: thank you lan 🥹
nicolepiastri: i’m so proud of you y/n/n!
ynpiastri: love you mama p 🤍
ynpiastri: thank you for the best getaway. see you soon my love 🫶🏻
oscarpiastri: i’ll be waiting with open arms 🤍
ynpiastri has made a post
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ynpiastri: reporting live from paris!!! ready for my first ever olympics with the best team i could ever ask for. let’s get it girls 💪🏻
view all 201 comments
user3: my god she’s gorgeous
user4: hit that ball!! or whatever it is you do in volleyball idk i love you and hope you win
lewishamilton: you got this 💪🏻
ynpiastri: thank you lew 🤍
user5: never watched volleyball before but you know darn well im tuning in for mrs piastri 🗣️
mclarenf1: sending love from the mtc
alexandrasaintmleux: good luck pretty girl
ynpiastri: says the prettiest girl
oscarpiastri: yes, that first picture is my phone background now! thank you!
ynpiastri: you’re so cute stop 🥹
landonorris: he’s telling the truth i saw it
texts between you and oscar
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teamusa: and just like that, our girls are headed to the next round! USA’s volleyball teams sweeps France to move onto the quarterfinals 💪🏻🇺🇸
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user8: Y/N SPOTTING
ynpiastri: could not be more proud of this team 😭
user24: we could not be more proud of you y/n
yourbff: AND I AM SO PROUD OF YOU MS GIRL
logansargeant: ayooo let’s goooo!!
user12: logan being here is so important to me ok
user18: loscar crumbs 🥲
oscarpiastri: that’s my wife 🗣️
user22: we know buddy, no one’s tryna take her
oscarpiastri: absolutely incredible match! so proud of everyone on this team
user65: oscar supporting everyone not just his girl is so wholesome
user66: oscar is the politest cat, making sure he compliments everyone
user88: america 🇺🇸 🦅🇺🇸
user24: came for y/n, staying bc i know love volleyball
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oscarpiastri: it’s missing y/n o’clock so enjoy some photos from our honeymoon. the gold medal match is tomorrow so i expect you all to tune in!
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user13: ty for reminding me i’m single
user14: mans is obsessed with his wife
landonorris: down bad o’clock i see
maxverstappen1: oh let him be! you’ll understand one day
oscarpiastri: what max said !!!
landonorris: okok i get it, i don’t know what it’s like to be a husband or whatever
ynpiastri: and when i say i miss you more?
oscarpiastri: brb hopping on a plane to paris
mclarenf1: oscar you have a race tomorrow
ynpiastri: pretty please admin
mclarenf1: who’s gonna drive the car then?
ynpiastri: zak!
mclarenf1: 🥹 be for real y/n/n
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oscarpiastri: how do you manage to always look so beautiful???
ynpiastri: osc 😭 you’re too sweet
oscarpiastri: never too sweet for you
landonorris: who’s your teammate 👀
ynpiastri: off limits norris
landonorris: you never let me have any fun y/n
ynpiastri: for good reason!!!
yourbff: you are glowing
user13: our favorite olympian fr
user22: i’ll be watching and screaming for mrs piastri like my life depends on it
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oscarpiastri: y/n “gold medalist” piastri. that’s it, that’s the post
view all 516 comments
user44: yayyayayyayayaay !!!!!!
carmenmundt: my favorite volleyball star
georgerussell63: mine too!
logansargeant: RAHHHH AMERICA 🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸 (did i do it right?)
ynpiastri: yes 🤍
user2: AHAHA LOGAN
user3: he’s one of us
user66: my mom won her first gold medal not long after my dad won his first grand prix 🥹 oh i love them
landonorris: DO YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING CROM HERE?!
ynpiastri: omg that was you?
user4: i love their friendship
mclarenf1: congratulations mrs piastri!!!
nicolepiastri: that’s our girl! what an incredible moment 🧡
user88: so proud so proud
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oscarpiastri: my gold medal baby is home
view all 608 comments
user18: husband oscar content 😭
landonorris: thank goodness, i couldn’t handle you crying about missing her anymore
ynpiastri: u were crying abt missing me too you muppet
landonorris: your point?
ynpiastri: glad to be back with you my boy 🤍
oscarpiastri: glad you’re back but i’m already looking forward to the next olympics!! i love seeing my girl succeed
logansargeant: a bunch of simps 🤭
user19: if my partner doesn’t post me like this i don’t want it
user22: @.my partner take notes 🗣️
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚⠀
a/n: another installment of the olympic reader! as always thank you for reading 🫶🏻
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚⠀
© norrisainz33: please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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jambalaya-enthusiast · 2 months ago
Note
Just had another Jimmy thought...
If Curly had a daughter he would definitely introduce Jimmy as an uncle of sorts... Cutting it short once shes of age Uncle Jimmy about to get a whole lot creepier.
First he pulls you on his lap while He and your dad Curly are watching football or something, and you feel something but you dont say anything... but your dad needed to run to the store to grab some more beer. -Cupcake anon
Your own age.
Uncle! Jimmy x Curly's Daughter! Reader.
warnings: age gap(reader is an adult),toxic relationship themes, jimmy is a major creep, non-consensual touching. curly is an oblivious single father.
a/n; cupcake anon, you're a fucking genius. love you for sharing this prompt with me,hope I was able to do it justice!
It wasn't fun being a well respected captain's daughter. Especially after your mom left, your dad would leave for shipments for months on end,and you had to spend a good chunk of your childhood with nannies rather than your parents.
But that was when he came along,Jimmy... Or Jim,as your dad would call him. He was your dad's closest friend since childhood,and now he was gonna be... Living with the two of you? Your dad said that it was due to the shortage of leases on the market currently,but you know damn well it was because that jimmy person was just a broke guy.
"hey,so you're the daughter I keep hearing my friend talk about,huh?".
"uh yeah,my name is y/n".
"y/n huh? well that's a pretty name for a pretty little girl".
you did think it was strange as to how,Jimmy... or well,uncle jimmy as your dad advised you to call him, was so Frank and open minded with you,but you realised that's just how men in his situation were. Open-minded,and careless.
Uncle jimmy... was an interesting man to say the least,you hadn't really had the luck of having any fun 'relatives' for that matter so you thought this was the best as it was gonna get. Jimmy would offer you cigarettes. Something that your father had clearly mentioned in front of him was off limits for you.
"C'mon aren't you a big girl now? some rules are meant to be broken y'know?
"but dad would kill me if he ever found out..."
"it's alright,it will be our little secret".
All in all you started warming up to him,you thought that hey,this guy is already down on his luck,and he's also so fun to be around! wouldn't hurt to be friendly with him.
It didn't matter how unnecessarily long his hugs were,or how suffocating they were. he would always hug you so tight that you had to physically wriggle your way out of his grasp. on some occasions you could've sworn you heard him say something under his breath.
It didn't matter how he would stare at you for long periods of time if the two of you were in the same room,you thought maybe it's just a middle aged man thing
It didn't matter how during road trips,he would sit in the backseat beside you instead of sitting beside his best friend in the front. How somehow his hands would always find it's way to be on your thigh.
He was a fun guy after all! He lets you drink,smoke,and sneak out. Do all the things which your dad would have crucified you for.
Seeing both of you so close would have your dad asking you—
"wow you sure are having fun with uncle jimmy,huh? you guys seem to be close".
"yeah he's so cool! it's super fun to be around him".
"fun huh? Well im hoping it's a good kind of fun,honey".
But curly shouldn't be worried! His best friend was just taking care of his daughter... Right? He wouldn't do anything,wrong... Right? That much faith curly should have in his best friend... Should he not?
Your dad and uncle had a habit of watching football games during weekend nights,and you decided to join them one such night.
While watching the game,jimmy suddenly turned to you,and said.
'oi y/n, c'mere and sit" as he motioned towards his lap,he turned towards curly and said. "For old times sake,eh? You remember how I used to carry ya around? I'm feelin nostalgic".
Curly was already feeling tipsy from the 3rd pint of beer he was chugging,so he just laughter and said "haha,you guys are so adorable!".
Albeit,a strange request,you decided to do as your uncle asked anyway,and you went to him and plopped on his lap. No matter his lanky figure,he was still strong enough to carry your weight. So he had no problem in adjusting himself to have you sir on his lap while still getting a comfortable view of the ongoing game.
everybody was focusing on the game,but you,your focus was on something else entirely,all the while you were sitting on his lap, you could feel Jimmy's hot breath on your shoulder,how his left hand was rested at your side,firmly placing a grip, you could feel his heart beating, and you don't know what got over you,but you decided to do something risky, somthing vulgar which you hadn't even properly processed in your mind.
You grinded against him just a little,and that was enough to get his heart beating 10 times faster,you could practically feel his breath hitch,and him letting out the quietest groan. And you felt something hard between you legs,you realised that you had just gotten him rock hard. you felt accomplished for some reason. But that's when your dad decided to drop off the bomb.
"wait,fuck we're out of beer,jimmy look after y/n while I make a quick trip to the store to get few more".
"you got it boss".
You knew that it was wraps the moment your dad walked out the front door and closed it behind him. You blinked and suddenly you were pinned down onto the sofa, your uncle had both your hands pressed firmly above your head,he stared at you like a wild animal on the prowl, hunting its prey.
"damn,I didn't know that you were so dirty, grinding against me like that,you know how 'fuckin hard it was for me to keep from moaning?,you deserve to get punished for it don't you think?".
• you intently stared him,not knowing what to do,excited yet scared of what he was going to do next.
And then without a warning,he smashed his lips against yours,into a rough, messy, hungry kiss. he tasted like liquor with a hint of cigarettes,the cheap brand which he smokes all the time. His tongue was wildly exploring every inch of your mouth, he felt like an animal in heat.
then in between the kiss he said, "you don't know how long I've been wanting to do this,kid".
you already knew that this was going to be quick as your dad would be back from the store in no time,but you also knew,that this was the beginning of something,very long, something very vulgar. and even though it might be wrong,you felt eager,you felt excited. you were looking forward to whatever was going to happen next.
521 notes · View notes
barcameowski · 1 month ago
Text
𝐒𝐎 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 ⁻ lando norris
warnings: none
face claim: sophia havertz
pairing: lando norris x american!reader (established relationship)
𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽
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liked by landonorris , alexandrasaintmleux , pietra.pilao , iamrebeccad and 512,000 others
yourusername: 🐆
view comments
landonorris: prettiest smile ever
⇝ liked by creator
landonorris: I would fight a leopard in your honor
⇝ yourusername: is one normal compliment too much to ask for?
landonorris: gorgeous 😍❤️
⇝ yourusername: there it is ❤️
user1: so pretty omg
pietra.pilao: stunning 🤩
⇝ liked by creator
alexandrasaintmleux: what a dress 🫠🫠
⇝ yourusername: I know !!!
user2: life when y/n posts 💆‍♀️
iamrebeccad: pretty girl ✨
⇝ liked by creator
user3: im droolinggg
user4: photographer?
⇝ yourusername: a certain f1 driver 🙈
user5: you’re glowing
user6: I am so jealous of her beauty
user7: the wags complimenting her🥰
user8: body is teaaa
user9: she paid for that dress with a lil something called face card
user10: this woman is angelic
user11: a literal model
user12: makeup tutorial pleaseeee
user13: lando got lucky in life
user14: which color should I dye my hair? blonde, caramel highlights, or black
⇝ yourusername: definitely caramel highlights !!
user15: mother 👩🏼‍🍼👩🏼‍🍼
⇝ yourusername: I am surely not pregnant or have kids
user16: cant wait for her abu dhabi outfit 😮‍💨
user17: main character energy
user18: im gonna miss you when i scroll
user19: don’t gatekeep where’s the bracelet from?
⇝ yourusername: im not sure 😃 ask landonorris
⇝ landonorris: it’s from cartier
user20: I was you for halloween
⇝ yourusername: i neeeeeddd photos
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liked by landonorris , francisca.cgomes , maxfewtrell and 348,000 others
yourusername: dinner in abu dhabi 🍷🌙
view comments
landonorris: I was just casually at dinner with the most gorgeous woman ever
⇝ yourusername: im flattered
landonorris: photo credits?
⇝ yourusername: 📸: ln4 🙄
francisca.cgomes: your hair is flawlessss
⇝ liked by creator
user1: landos comment 🥲
landonorris: you’re so american 🦅❤️🤍💙
⇝ yourusername: ……
alexandrasaintmleux: cant wait to see uuu
⇝ yourusername: me neither !!!!!
user2: wowowowowowowowo
user3: obsessed (with your boyfriend)
user4: im your biggest fannnnnnnn
user5: what are your thoughts on max winning the championship?
⇝ yourusername: very happy for him and he deserves it 🦁
kellypiquet: beautiful queen ❤️
⇝ yourusername: missing u
user6: lando and max < kelly and y/n
⇝ liked by creator
user7: this week marks 2 years since her paddock debut
user8: aestheticssss
user9: 💖💖💖
user10: shes my motivation
user11: wanna go on a pasta date with me?
⇝ yourusername: answer is always YES
user12: way to y/ns heart is a pasta date apparently
⇝ yourusername: im just a girl
user13: always so elegant
user14: im a girl who loves f1, y/n, lando… and that’s it
⇝ yourusername: me core
user15: is y/n chronically online?
user16: are you a football fan?
⇝ yourusername: of american football, no. of the other one, not really, lando is teaching me some stuff but im not really interested
user17: I wanna see y/n and penelopeee
user18: more content pleaseee
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liked by landonorris , yourusername , maxfewtrell and 276,918 others
mclaren: power couple in our garage for quali 🧡 {tagged: landonorris , yourusername}
view comments
landonorris: my good luck charm 🧡
⇝ liked by creator
yourusername: 🧡🧡
⇝ liked by creator
user1: posting wags is insane
user2: her outfit is so basic yet cute
user3: take this down admin
user4: awwww he calls her his good luck charm
user5: my parents
user6: her smile is so comforting
user7: cuties
user8: damn the van cleef necklace
user9: shes so supportive
user10: they are so endgame
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liked by landonorris , mclaren, maxverstappen1 , lilyzneimer and 411,000 others
yourusername: always proud of you 🧡 my lil chauffeur
view comments
landonorris: I don’t know how to feel about the caption so I’ll just ignore it, I love you 🫶🏽🥰
⇝ yourusername: I love you more, don’t even reply just shush
user1: the first photo
user2: my only boyfriend is a glass of wine you’re so lucky
user3: most supportive wag since nicole
user4: im sad the season has come to an end but i already know her break posts are gonna hittttt
user5: our american queen 🎀
user6: I want to be her
user7: simple caption with so much meaning
user8: not gonna lie I teared up a bit
user9: best wag of 2024
user10: she’s gonna be like a second mother to antonelli MARK MY WORDS
⇝ user11: she’s already following him lol
user12: can’t wait for the tiktoks
user13: my mind can’t comprehend the fact that the season is over
⇝ yourusername: Ikr, I feel like just yesterday it was the miami grand prix
user14: the interactions between them two are so adorable
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux , lilymhe , lailahasanovic and 488,000 others
yourusername: week one of break and couldn’t be happier 🫶🏽
view comments
landonorris: you couldn’t be prettier even if you tried 🤍
⇝ liked by creator
alexandrasaintmleux: outfit 🤩
⇝ yourusername: I loveee it so much
user1: on todays episode of guess the weather we have y/n and lando
⇝ yourusername: it was warm, he just decided to suffocate
⇝ landonorris: the weather app lied shush
⇝ yourusername: the weather app doesn’t lie
user2: the birkin….
user3: we all know and love this diva
user4: love how she’s shoving the birkin in our faces
user5: first picture is such a moodddd
user6: I don’t know if you can tell but you’re really pretty
user7: do you like dr pepper?
⇝ yourusername: of course I do, lando absolutely despises it
user8: where are you guys?
⇝ yourusername: florida 🌞
user9: please come to brasilll
⇝ yourusername: I’m on my way (not right now but I will I promise)
user10: I CANT WAIT FOR YOUR NEW PADDOCK OUTFITSSS
user11: where’s the dress from ??
⇝ yourusername: kookaï 💫
user12: I’m giggling at how lando is looking at you (im so single I can’t believe I stooped this low)
user13: I wish I could be on vacation with you
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liked by yourusername , oscarpiastri , mclaren and 319,000 others
landonorris: weirdo on tour yourusername
view comments
yourusername: you’re so mean 😪
⇝ landonorris: I still love you
user1: lando apologize now
⇝ landonorris: yourusername I’m sorry my love
user2: best couple in f1
user3: I want someone to love me how they love eachother
user4: my new favorite post
user5: ask her where her coat is from
⇝ landonorris: she said something called meshky?
⇝ yourusername: meshki
user6: where are you guys going now 😭
⇝ yourusername: back to the uk
⇝ user7: poor y/n went from florida weather to the gloomy uk weather
user8: whats her favorite animal?
⇝ landonorris: STOP QUIZZING MEE! but it’s a koala
user9: I fear this might be the cutest thing I have seen all day
user10: I’m drowning my sorrows
user11: I love her style
user12: I think I like her more than I like lando
⇝ landonorris: that’s mean but I relate
part 2
requests are open
878 notes · View notes
cheqorb · 2 months ago
Text
Sotto Voce.
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Gaslighting everyone into believing you’re a really shit footballer because seeing people be impressed by your sheer lack of skill is more fun than being a genius.
FEAT. Bastard München ensemble
NOTES. uhhaua cross posted on ao3 (same user) but ajyway, thought this idea was funny and because of this lingering feeling of sadness i haha managed to Complete this?? Gosh im beside myself with worry!!
WORD COUNT. 2.2k
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Isagi thinks he might be seeing things. Maybe all the relentless training in Blue Lock has finally caught up to him, leading him into a football-induced delirium, because he can’t quite comprehend what he’s looking at right now.
You’re moving across the field with a fluidity he’s only seen in pro-level players, doing tricks and turns he’s pretty sure aren’t even in his playbook. You glide past the defence, controlling the ball with a finesse that’s nearly supernatural — hell, he thinks even someone of Rin’s calibre would be breaking a sweat to try and keep up.
And you look bored while doing it. Eyes half-lidded, posture almost lazy, as if this is just another walk in the park and not you showing off world-class football technique.
Isagi’s mind races to make sense of this. You’d always been, well, normal to him.
Sometimes you’d play in a match, most other times you’d sit out on the sidelines. And he’s usually pretty sharp about these things, so it must’ve been because you just… didn’t stand out.
Yet here you are, pulling off flawless plays with little more than a mild yawn, as if winning against the top players here would barely register on your radar. Maybe it’s just luck, some freakish one-off, right?
… Nope. You just drilled another perfect goal into the top corner of the net.
He snaps out of his thoughts only when you suddenly stop mid-play, and his eyes meet yours. For a second, there’s a flicker of panic in your gaze and he opens his mouth, not even sure what he’s about to say.
“Y/N-”
You’re stomping towards him before he can even process the whole thing, your pace quicker and more full of menace than he’s used to seeing on you. You stop just short of him, tilt your head slightly, and in the calmest voice, say, “You saw nothing.”
He tries to stammer out something, but you leave soon afterwards.
────
Tripping over the ball is harder than it looks, but after enough practice, you’ve perfected the art of falling in a normal fashion. To most people, it’s convincing. Prior to a few days ago, you’d say all people but there’s a certain someone who entertains himself by boring holes into the back of your skull with an intense, unblinking stare.
You can feel it. Isagi waiting for you to slip up.
Actually slip up, instead of the falls you’ve gotten so good at imitating. It’s detestable, honestly. You’re trying to keep things as they’ve always been, and he just wants to come in and mess with the status quo!
Luckily for you, Igaguri’s too much of an idiot to harbour the same suspicions. Right now he’s too busy practically doubling over with laughter on the floor. The guy is probably thrilled to finally see someone playing the fool even more than he does. And as much as he’s a pain, he’s also the kind of person who makes perfect cover — play the role of an idiot, laugh it off with him, and everyone’s none the wiser.
So, in spite of your (what most would call) vindictive description of him, you do believe that some sort of strange pleasure is to be gained from surrounding yourself with people like him. Though perhaps that also makes you a terrible person.
The feeling is nothing like the rationale that Noa preaches about so often. It’s an undeniable truth in your heart.
Which is why you avoid the people who actually know what they’re doing on the field like the plague.
Yukimiya, on the other hand, is way too polite to laugh outright. He at least has the common sense to stifle it, reaching out a hand to help you off the ground with a quiet charm that makes people swoon. No wonder he’s a model.
Now, the imaginary audience in your mind might be wondering why you’re talking with a guy like him? Your answer: he’s not as notable ever since he patched things up with Isagi. He’s now the kind of person you can talk to without raising any brows. Again, it sounds harsh but you see it in a positive light. He’s becoming just the kind of person you adore most!
“Try and keep a close eye for stuff on the ground, alright?”
You flash him a grin, nodding. “You know me, just a total klutz all the time,” you reply as your usual happy-go-lucky self, making sure to project just loud enough for Isagi to hear.
And out of the corner of your eye, you catch that familiar look of suspicion deepening.
────
The silence that follows is brutal. Hiori and Kurona exchange a look that’s way too long for Isagi’s comfort. After finishing whatever telepathic debate they have with each other, they both stare back at him like he’s just pitched the most psychotic theory imaginable (which isn’t entirely untrue).
“You don’t believe me, do you?” he mutters, deflating a bit.
Hiori’s quick to reply, but Isagi is aware of the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “It’s not that we don’t believe you. But, ya have to admit, it’s strange to hear Y/N… of all people, doing something like that.”
That’s code for what the fuck are you talking about, Isagi concludes with a grimace, his eyes shifting to Kurona hopefully.
“Crazy. Crazy.”
Kurona’s tone is deadpan, his gaze distant as if he’s trying not to laugh. Great.
Isagi sighs heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. Maybe he is the one who’s going crazy here. It shouldn’t even bother him this much. It’s not like you’re particularly close! If anything, he can barely remember a conversation between the two of you that went beyond asking if you’d seen so and so.
And, judging by the responses he’s getting from both of his teammates, neither of them can figure out why he’s fixated on this either.
────
Noa is going on and on about practice drills, how to follow his instructions precisely, something about rationality and technique, blah, blah, blah. You stifle a yawn. If this is what being in one of the top clubs means, you should’ve begged Ego to be in Barcha instead. At least Lavinho would’ve been fun.
You hear his coaching style isn’t by any means phenomenal if you’re trying to improve your skills, but good thing you’re not planning on doing anything of the sort!
And just when you think you might actually pass out from boredom, you see Isagi walking over. Again. He’s approaching with that same cautious look, but it’s not enough to make him think twice about bothering you apparently. That’s also something that bugs you, he’s never a quitter.
You flash him an oblivious smile. “Oh, Isagi! Whatcha up to? Need anything from little ol’ me?”
You lay it on thick, voice dripping with cheerful innocence. His jaw tightens, and for a second, you swear you can see a flicker of annoyance on his face. That’s new. Your words have the opposite effect than what you had originally intended.
“Listen, I know what I saw, alright? You’re not fooling anyone.”
He launches into a whole spiel about how he’s seen you pull off moves that only high-level players can pull off, how he doesn’t care if it’s part of some large game you’re playing, how you should be using your skill to distinguish yourself.
…You really don’t give a shit, and in regards to his comments, you personally disagree! What’s the fun in doing all of that?
You tilt your head, pretending to think it over with wide, guileless eyes. Sure, you’re a little flattered he’s this invested in uncovering your “secret,” but the other 99% of you is totally unhappy.
When he finally wraps up his little speech, you just give him a half-hearted shrug with a smugness that he doesn’t miss.
“And who’s going to believe you?”
────
Kaiser likes to think of Isagi as predictable, average — someone who might fancy himself a hero but is ultimately just another small-time player waiting to be crushed. It’s almost laughable how seriously he takes himself. In fact, the only thing remotely worth mentioning about him recently is this bizarre fixation he seems to have developed on you.
He’s overheard your exchanges, and in short, they’re pathetic.
Isagi rambles on about how you’re hiding something, clinging to that delusion like it’s going to benefit him somehow. The psychology-lover inside him finds it almost fascinating in how utterly absurd it sounds.
So, when Kaiser spots you chatting with the ever despairing Grim (laughing so hard you have to hold back tears), he figures it wouldn’t be wrong to call you at least a little insane. Part of him wonders what humour could be found in the man’s deplorable monologues.
He figures he might as well join in on the entertainment. You’re far from his usual company, but you’ll do. For now. Moseying on over, his signature smirk is already in place.
He’s rewarded by the way your eyes immediately narrow in irritation, a look he’s all too familiar with and thoroughly enjoys on anyone really. Grim, blissfully unaware of what he’s leaving you to, heads off, and now it’s just you and Kaiser.
Leaning in closer, he asks, “What little secret of yours has got under Yoichi’s skin so badly?”
Kaiser waits, watching for the faintest flicker of reaction but you stay silent. How boring.
But! Not one to give up easily, he continues with a more direct jab, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. The one where he acts like he knows everything there is to know about everyone. “That you’re really skilled, and this whole clueless act of yours is just a cheap facade?”
He raises a brow, as if daring you to admit it. To his delight, you lift your head, finally meeting his gaze albeit with an uncomfortably polite smile.
“I was just surprised you’re interested in something like that. But, Isagi’s a total liar. Isn’t he just so annoying? I can’t stand people who just don’t know when to give up, and I’m sure you agree.”
It’s not often someone catches him off-guard, and though he recovers quickly, the flicker of surprise is still there. Kaiser also sees opportunity however. He could work with this.
“Well, if you’re not a fan of Yoichi then feel free to join my side then,” he drawls, offering the position like it’s a dream come true. In his world, he’s already the star; what better way to elevate himself than to recruit someone.
“Ah, no. You’re both terrible.”
He can’t tell what’s worse; you lumping him together with Isagi, or the fact that you immediately walk off without giving him a chance to get the last word in.
────
“It’s like asking me if I prefer cat shit or dog shit. It’s still shit, and there’s no point in picking one over the other.”
You toss the comparison out to Kiyora, of all people — a bit of a waste since he just stares blankly at you, not saying a word. Pretty cute, actually, in a clueless sort of way.
The reality is that, at the moment, if you want a shot at the regulars, you’re supposed to cosy up to either Isagi or Kaiser. And as for everyone else? They’re can either fuck off or pray for a miracle.
Of course, you couldn’t care less about making the regulars. But every now and then, you forget there are people around you who do care, people with actual ambitions. Which is why you pause when you catch sight of Hiori and Kurona.
“Oh, Hiori and Kurona,” you point out the obvious.
They both glance your way, casual and relaxed, which gives you the impression that Isagi hasn’t roped them into his latest paranoid theories. Yet.
“Are ya heading back to training already?” Hiori asks, his soft voice and accent making it sound more like an invitation than a question. There’s a kindness to it that’s almost unsettling here in Blue Lock, but you return his smile with one of your own nevertheless.
Kiyora gives a small nod. “Yeah,” he says, brief and to the point.
You’re half-considering some excuse to slip away and do your own thing, but there’s something about the way Hiori is looking at you that draws your attention. Unlike Isagi, he’s way better at hiding it, but you can still feel his curiosity prickle under your skin.
You give him a lazy smile, leaning into the idea. “I’m already so tired from this morning’s training,” you lie, exaggerating just enough. “Honestly, going to bed early sounds great right about now.”
Morning training was barely enough to get you sweating, just a couple of warm-up drills for the afternoon matches. You doubt they have any clue what you’re talking about, which is exactly how you want it.
There’s a quiet pause, and then Hiori breaks it with a gentle but firm nudge. “Well, if yer looking to get on the regulars consistently, training more could be worth a shot.”
You force a smile that probably looks more akin to a grimace. This is exactly why you don’t like smart people. They poke and prod until your story frays at the edges. He definitely asked that on purpose! With a heavy sigh, you end up walking with them toward the pitch, despite every nerve in you screaming to veer off.
You can’t help but wonder if this is a test.
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starboye · 4 months ago
Text
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starring: vinnie hacker x male reader
request: vinnie hacker and his thicc!femboy roommate have been living together a months now and vinnie is now just sitting on the couch playing video games until he looks up and sees his roommate come out his room walking into the kitchen with a tight crop top and a thong and vinnie can’t help but stare at how his ass jiggles so vinnie gets up and head to the kitchen and talks to the roommate about his choice of clothing and vinnie grabs his thong and snap it back onto him and roommate yelps… they start making out and vinnie his just rubbing his ass and it gets to the point where he stops kissing roommate just to look at his ass and how jiggly it is but after a while Vinnie picks up roommate and brings him to his room where he pulls the thong to the side and eats his ass and then after he fucks reader is the face down asss up position but makes him keep the thong on and after they finish vinnie gets up and plugs his ass with a butt plug and then looks in his drawer to see so many thongs and vinnie makes his roommate try on like 5 different pairs before fucking him again
warnings: smut, cursing, ass eating (reader receiving), thong, mentions of drinking, butt plug, unprotected sex
you couldn't deny that the night before was pretty crazy, you were out partying with your friends all night dancing and drinking till you were black out drunk and only getting home till it was around 4 in the morning with vinnie hearing you stumble your way to your bed from his room.
now it was around noon and you were just waking up from your short lived nap because vinnie was screaming at his game in the living room, he watched as you slowly made you way to the kitchen in your clothes from last night. infatuated by how your ass jiggled with every step you took in that thong and skirt with that skin tight crop top before you start pouring yourself some water.
vinnie decides to test his luck and rises from his spot with the intent of teasing you on his mind "y'know in the couple months we've been living together i've never seen you like this" vinnie chuckles at your drowsy and tired state as he leans against the counter "yeah maybe because im not usually this hungover" you say sipping the water before putting the glass in the sink.
"no i mean like this" he clarifies bringing back the material of the thong and letting it snap back onto your ass,you wince at the slight pain and lightly punch vinnie in the arm "hey what the fuck vin" you yelp rubbing your ass to help the pain go away. as you do so vinnie looks from your ass to your eyes back and forth making you catch his eyes with yours and you dont know whether you were still drunk or not but vinnie was looking unreal right now.
the way you could see his muscular build through his shirt and the way he looked at you and without a thought vinnie grabbed you by the waist and brought you into a heated kiss which quickly escalated into making out as vinnie groped at your ass, kneading it eagerly with his large hands. he stops kissing you for a moment just to jiggle your ass in his palms, you move to leaving some hickeys on his neck to make up for the loss of his lips on yours.
"wanna go to your room" vinnie asks lightly kissing your ear "sure" you pant from all the kissing, vinnie lifts you up by your thighs and carries you to the room before dropping you on your bed "you know i haven't had any breakfast yet" vinnie says bringing off his shirt "then i have something nice and juicy you could eat" you say arching your back to accentuate your ass to him.
"oh ill definitely have to have a taste" vinnie smirks glaring down at you as pulls your thong to the side and he lowers his face in between your legs and begins eating you out, his tongue lapping at your hole and nipping at the inside of your ass "fuck" you shakily moan dropping your head "yeah that feel good" vinnie asks slapping your ass.
"i cant wait anymore- ngh... put it in" you moan into the bed "you sure you're ready for that" vinnie asks with a raised eyebrow and a smug look as he licked the drool from his beautiful lips "mhm" you nod wanting his dick to fill you, he leans up and pulls off his joggers and lets his hard dick falls onto your ass. giving your ass a few smacks with his dick as his finger massaged your hole slowly before he aligned himself up with you.
you looked back at him, the way he was above you, mouth messy with saliva and drool from eating you out and his muscular build contorting and flexing as he pushed into you slowly, his thick tip stretching out your hole enough to get the rest of his dick in, you let out a breathy moan into the bed.
you felt so full of him that it almost made you cum but you held back, vinnie gave you a few seconds to adjust to his big size before he was thrusting into you with hard plaps punctuating his size even more, your hard on throbbed against the fabric of the thong that vin wouldn't let you take off, he held the thin string to the side as he admired your hole taking his full length with no push back or resistance.
"so who fucked you last night" vinnie leans down over you, his arms caging your head in to keep himself up "why, you jealous or somethin" you choke out because of vinnies rough thrust "big talk coming from the guy currently getting his ass pounded" vinnie chuckles moving so hair from your sweaty forehead.
"m'close" you mutter breathlessly "already lightweight" he laughs making you hide your face in the blankets from embarrassment "oh dont be like that" he says slowing his thrusts to get a response but you leave your face in the blankets "fineee" he grumbles gripping your hips before he starts pounding your ass full force, you messily moan and whimper out before you cum in the thong.
staining it with your cum "yeah that felt good right" vinnie asks not slowing his thrusts to reach his high, earning a small whine out of you before he's flooding your hole with his load, he watches as some of it leaks out over his cock. swiftly pulling out and finding a random butt plug in your nightstand to put in you and hold his warm cum in you.
he sits behind your for a while, both of you catching your breath, another thong soon catches his eye and he gets up to look through your drawer and sees a bunch of other thongs hidden away "and what do we have here" he taunts pulling the slutty underwear out and holding them up, your eyes widen in shock at seeing them and you jump up from the bed to grab them but vinnie holds them out of your reach.
"how about we have a little modeling show" he says with a sinister look in his eyes, you oblige and after a while come back into the room with a new pretty thong on and model it for vinnie as he lays naked in your bed, his dick jumping against his tummy as you model this one for him "i think we have a winner" he says pulling you onto the bed for another fuck session.
taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft
653 notes · View notes
lcriedlastnight · 6 months ago
Note
Y/n agrees to be Oscar’s fake date to a wedding, but they end up actually getting together by the end of it
fake dating is the best trope i don't even care what you say. i'm not going to give it justice but i'll try my best, tysm anon. :)
tw: fem!reader, swears, pining and stupid oscar, lmk if you want me to add anything! not proof read cuz im lazy!
w/c: 2.5k
there was very little rules to liking someone, but there was one you were sure of it was to not agree to fake date in order to convince the boy you like's family that you are dating. you have read enough fake dating books to know how it goes down, although in the end they always get together, you are not known to have that kind of luck.
when oscar asked (more like begged) you to accompany him to a family wedding as his fake date, you barely hesitated. he didn't even get time to explain why you had to pretend to date him before you were jumping at the chance. it was embarrassing, really. oscar had ended up explaining that his family kept trying to set him up with his girl he dated back in australia but it hadn't worked out between them, she had ended up cheating on him with his friend. so to get back at them and her, he decided to invite you along to get his family off his back and to let her know that he was not interested because as his family had put it, she was more than up for reconnecting. oscar could seriously not think of anything worse.
it was one of those weddings that had an overnight stay attached because it was way easier than getting everyone to and from the venue.
"can you help me with my tie?" oscar asks. he was nervous, that much you could tell. you would be nervous too if you had convince a full wedding of people that you were dating someone you weren't. you on the other hand, you were buzzing with excitement. you were getting a glimpse into what it would be like to date the boy you had been harbouring a crush on since he had joined f1 last year. you knew it would break you by tomorrow by that was future you's problem. for now you were going to enjoy 'pretending' to be in love with oscar.
you spin around after you finish making sure you liked how you looked to face oscar. oscar wasn't tall but he was taller than you. the top of your head came to rest just under his chin as you carefully tie his tie for him. the boy was so fucking sweet, having asked for a picture of your dress so he could get a tie to match and it's like he made the tie from the same fabric the dress was made from. it was a perfect match,
"well look at you! don't you scrub up well, oscar!" you say after straightening his tie and taking a step back from him to get a good look at him. if you were really dating this would be the part where you jumped his bones. but you were not dating so you grin up at him and he gives you a nervous smile back.
"don't be nervous. i've been told i'm a great fake girlfriend." you joke with oscar as you spray some of your favourite perfume, grab your bag and head towards your hotel door, hearing oscar follow behind you.
"you've done this before?" oscar asks surprised as the door closes behind you and you walk along the corridor to the elevator.
"christ, you really are nervous, you aren't picking up any of my jokes." you say, your hand finding his as you both step into the elevator. you look up at him to make sure he's alright with you holding his hand. oscar's hand just squeezes yours in confirmation.
once you arrive you are greeted by a pair of doormen that seem to recognise oscar. he's greeted with a "hey, mate!" and "oscar!". it seems he's very popular within this wedding. or maybe it was because he was a formula one driver. you forget that a lot.
oscar greets them both of a couple of those hugs that men do. you watch along, feeling a little awkward but also happy to see oscar with people he's clearly comfortable with. it makes you smile.
"and who's this pretty girl?" one of the men asks and oscar is instantly back by your side. a protective hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his side a little. "this is my girlfriend." he introduces you, although you don't think he needs to because his actions spoke a thousand words. you try not to get too excited at his touch, you two had agreed to do anything that was needed to convince everyone you two were actually a couple, so you had to expect these touches.
the two men give their congratulations but you can tell they are trying their bests to not laugh at his protective nature. maybe oscar was better at acting than his nerves were making him out to be. they both and you glasses of champagne as they guide you to a room filled about halfway with people, chatting away. up ahead you can see rows of chairs and a gorgeous arch in front of a floor to ceiling window. it showcases the beautiful australian scenery behind it. you think it is a lovely place to get married. oscar hands you his champagne without a word from you. "champagne was only for podiums" rang in your mind, recalling the time oscar had told you that. most of your thoughts were oscar based.
oscar spots his family ahead and links your hands again, of course you recognise his mum, she was an icon in your eyes and you admired her, even though when you told oscar this he thought you were joking. she was standing with his dad, chris as they chatted away. with the way oscar had been talking about them this past week, with the whole ex-girlfriend situation, you would think they were devil spawn. to you, they looked lovely and you were itching to meet them. oscar had told you his sisters were not able to make it which made you sad as you had met before and you really liked them.
"oscar!" nicole calls over, catching the attention of a few other people around but they go back to their own conversations soon enough. you stand off to the side as oscar reunites with his mother and father. nicole's eyes land on you.
"well you must be the famous girlfriend we've heard so much about then." she praises you as she brings you in for a hug too. it is oscar's turn to stand off at the side and watch. "you look stunning." she tells you, which has you grinning.
the two most important people to oscar stare back at you as you suddenly feel shy. just as oscar thinks he is going to have to jump in for you, you say "thank you, mrs piastri. i am, i hope he hasn't said anything embarrassing about me.". you smile at her. oscar smiles at you.
"no, none of that love, you call me nicole and him chris." she signals to her husband whose holding a champagne flute. chris smiles at you too.
"sorry, nicole." you say but she waves you off. oscar comes to stand next to you, arm snaking back around your waist again. it feels so right, like he has been doing it for years.
"oscar hasn't shut up about you! when he finally told us you had gotten together i was over the moon. i've been desperate to meet you. osc made you sound lovely." the woman rants to you, she's clearly a little tipsy but it makes you like her more.
you beam at hearing this, eyes flitting to look at oscar who seems embarrassed. he has probably hyped you up so much so you seem better than that ex he was on about.
"i hope i'm as lovely as he's made me out to be." you are shy, oscar has never seen you shy. it was cute.
before nicole can say much more a couple, who you later find out are friends with the couple getting married, make their way to you with what seems to be their daughter. she looks about you and oscar's age.
nicole greets them happily, alongside chris. oscar whispers in your ear "this is the girl and her family."
you look up at him as he looks at you nervous. in your mind, it was game time. you shift slightly while the others say their 'hello's', moving oscar's hand from your waist to in front of you. you wrap both of yours arm his one arm, clutching it to your chest, cheek resting on his bicep. oscar grins at your rearrangement. just before they turn to you and pull oscar down, silently telling him to whisper in your ear, you pray he gets the message.
he somehow does as he's whispering all about car strategies, 'what a weirdo' you think to yourself with a smile graces your features. oscar's hand comes up to hold your jaw as he whispers to you, it makes you feel flushed.
"i'm sure you remember oscar. this is his girlfriend." nicole introduces you too. well re-introduces her and oscar.
the girl glares at you as oscar moves away to stand straight and say 'hello' to the couple and the girl, who introduces herself as molly.
as everyone gets talking about the soon-to-be-wed couple, the conversation topic changes to you and oscar.
"how long have you two been dating, then?" molly asks. if you had to say which of the people you were talking to at the moment didn't believe you and oscar, it would be molly. she would cause trouble tonight for sure.
"two months." you both say unison. you smile in amusement while oscar squeezes the hand he had entwined with yours. nicole and molly's mother laughs at the two of you. chris smiles at you.
"so not that long then?" molly comments. before you can react they are asking everyone to take a seat on the respective sides as the ceremony was about to start.
oscar guides you to the seats with one hand on your back. it must be made of fire though because your back feels like sparks are shooting through it. molly's father has the greatest of the kids sitting with each other so oscar ends up in the middle of you and molly. you are on the aisle seat.
oscar is holding your hand so tight, you know he is nervous.
"you're doing great. they believe us. it's alright." you whisper in his ear to calm him down, your free hand resting on his shoulder. oscar smiles and nods at you. your words seeming to have the desired effect.
the ceremony is beautiful and you watch on in awe as the couple seal their vows with a kiss. you are too focused on watching the brides that you don't notice oscar staring at you. it's probably for the better seeing as you probably would have freaked out.
once the ceremony is over you are moved through to an extravagant dining hall, for one of the best meals you have ever had in your life. you have a glass of wine as you converse with oscar's parents and the others assigned to your table. you had not stopped smiling. you were all then crowded to the room where the reception would take place.
you all find a table to sit at, including molly's family. as the night went on, the more the drinks poured. oscar had barely had anything to drink. you had drank a little more but you were nothing more than tipsy. spending the whole day with you had made oscar see you in a different light. you noticed all the small things about you: the way your nose scrunches up when you really laugh, the way your voice gets higher when you talk about the things you are passionate in, the way you talk with your hands when you are explaining a story you yourself would find difficult to follow if you were the one listening. oscar may have actually fell for you today, and he was not really complaining.
after you return from the bar with another round of drinks you hear molly talking to nicole.
"they just don't seem real to me. i mean it was so last minute and when does he tell you? as soon as you bring up me. it's suspicious, nicole that's all i'm saying." molly says, trying to convince oscar's mum of the authenticity of your relationship. even though you knew it was fake you had to pretend oscar was in love with you. you knew just how to do it. you return to the table like you had not even heard a word and wait for oscar to come back from the bathroom with his dad.
a slow song comes on and the dj encourages all couples to come up and slow dance, this is all falling in line with your plan. before you can even suggest you and oscar go up to dance, nicole is pulling you both to the dance floor with her and chris.
you rest your arms on oscar's shoulders as his lay around your waist and link at the small of your back. there is some distance between you but that would need to change for you to execute your plan of getting molly to shut the fuck up.
"molly seems to be having fun." oscar smiles at you, his words are cheeky and you can see the alcohol in his eyes. it makes you laugh as you nod.
"i think we've been pretty successful with this whole thing." he then says, his thumb starting to run across your back, the soft touch making you weak in the knees.
you sigh. "i hear molly trying to convince your mum that we were faking." you tell him. you see the way his face screws up in annoyance.
"i was thinking something.." you trail off, scared he would not agree.
"what?" he questions.
"we should kiss so that everyone knows we are real. i mean we've been here for hours and not kissed once. not even like forehead kisses-" your cut off as oscar does exactly that. a light, lingering kiss pressed against the centre of your forehead before he is pulling away, cheesy smile cemented on his face. thank god for the dull lights and makeup or else oscar would see how hard you were blushing right now.
"right- so, yeah?" you say, tripping over your words as you think about his lips on your skin.
"if you wanted me to kiss you then you should've just asked, honey." oscar says teasingly hand coming up to sprawl across your jaw as he leans down.
the kiss lifts you off the ground and throws you around, oscar kisses you like you are special goods, like you are fragile and he would not dare to think about shattering you. his tongue swipes at your lips and of course you let him, it is the boy you have loved for a whole year. you both realise that the kiss is much more than driving the fake dating point home. you were finally letting oscar know how much you adored him and he was just discovering the extent of his feelings for you.
nicole watches on before saying to her husband. "she's good for him." he replies, "they're good for each other."
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tojislibrvry · 13 days ago
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★ ︵ @ nanami / reader , dēgrādatīon , smūt , mentions of sexual harassment , using your safe word
nanami loves being a little rough w you, a little condescending. he loves to see tears collecting on your lash line just so he can kiss them away and hold you close. he knows that you enjoy this dynamic too, that you enjoy being treated like this. you've said so multiple times.
but sometimes he can go overboard.
like this time, where kento has you in a mean mating press, your legs on his shoulder shaking as he thrusts deeper into you, you can feel him all the way up to your throat — so full of him. you feel like your cervix might bruise the way he pulls back and pushes in, a single thrust knocking the wind out of you.
"k-kento! s'too much—" you sob, mind far gone, "—please, just a mo-ment!" you whine, pulling him close and muffling your cries on his shoulder.
he doesn't stop, his cock filling you up with an unforgiving pace. you already had cum on his fingers once and you could feel your second orgasm of the night approaching.
"fuck! just take it—" he grunts, groaning in your ear, "that's all you are good for yeah? fuck, don't you dare cum right now, filthy slut—"
your eyes widen, even though you usually wouldn't be surprised. you loved it when he talked to you like this.
something about being catcalled on your way to work and then being hit on by your manager made his words seem real.
it made you feel like, you truly were only good for this.
"k-kento?" you say, nails digging deep into his muscles, "—i can't!" you are barely able to complete your sentence when his thumb begins to play with your clit, broken moans bouncing off the walls.
"shut the fuck up and take it like the whore you are —" he moans as he pushes in deeper than possible.
"kento! stop... red! no more—" you yell out finally, tears spilling out of your pretty eyes, your hands tapping thrice on his shoulder.
it takes nanami a moment to register what was going on, and he almost immediately pulls out. he looks at you, eyes confused but affectionate.
"my sweet girl... i am so so sorry" he whispers, "what's wrong baby? was that t' much?" he sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, peppering soft kisses on your face.
he sees you struggling to answer and immediately silences you with a kiss.
"you don't need to answer, my love. take your time baby, let's get you cleaned up now." he carries you to the shower and holds you as he cleans you up.
"my girl's the prettiest, love you so much sweetheart." he says while he dries you with a soft towel, dressing you in your favourite tshirt of his.
he makes sure to kiss you everywhere, and tells you how much he loves you.
"sorry k-kento, just had a really bad day, i thought if you just treated me like usual, everything would be fine." his eyes mist over.
"oh...pretty, whenever you have a bad day, you need to tell me. that's what im here for, here for you." he leans over to kiss you softly, lips lingering.
"let's watch grey's while we eat some leftovers, and after that if you want, we can talk about your day."
you smile at him, knowing you lucked out with love when he held you again.
.
not so nice! nanami who tracks down the man who had cat called you with the help of his connections and makes sure he is never able to talk again.
not so nice! nanami who gets the HR immediately involved and gets that manager blacklisted so no one can hurt his pretty girl again.
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1980shorrorfilm · 5 months ago
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dreaming about you and me
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using cailee as my ellie because it just makes sense
click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.
pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader
in which…ellie moves back to jackson after a year, hoping you had waited for her.
before you read…angst. modern day fic. emo ellie. like biggg loser ellie. sad sad ellie. ellie has a cat. some bad words.
leaving the chaotic city and lousy job and miserable relationship should be exciting. being welcomed by the familiar wyoming weather, and warm embraces from joel and dina should be exhilarating.
but instead, ellie felt a vast emptiness that seemed to seep from the walls and settle deep within her. she felt alone— again.
her phone occasionally bings with an email while she waits for a text; from you. something she hasn’t received in 8 months.
not that she’s keeping count…or occasionally opens your messages to reread your happier conversations. it’s unfortunately one of the only things that helped her sleep at night, next to a girl she knew didn’t love her. not the way you do…or did.
you were friends. really really good friends.
friends that had to be invited to places together, or neither were going. friends that spent more time in each other’s bedrooms than their own. friends that slept skin to skin, no blanket being able to replicate the warmth the other gave.
friends that kissed the day ellie left; then never spoke about it again.
the occasional calls were long, and they were sweet. you asked ellie about everything and anything as she adjusted to her amazing new life.
her new place, that she was quick to inform you there’s a framed photo of you guys together on her nightstand. it’s from a summer bonfire when she had got high and used your very old camera until it ran out of storage. it's a great picture, though. you look so pretty in it, she reminds you.
she’d rant about her new job, her asshole of a boss, and her overly friendly coworker that somehow annoyed you more than her. the way she described the girl, how clingy she was to your ellie. but you would laugh it off, masking the jealousy with light-hearted jokes, daring not to show how much it truly bothered you.
then, a few weeks later, the worst had happened.
ellie suddenly had a girlfriend, and you suddenly had a broken heart.
you could only be happy for her. even if that meant your phone calls were picked up by another girl, telling you that ellie was busy. even if that meant your texts declined over time, cat memes being sent with only a laughing emoji in response. no genuine, heart-to-heart conversations. the ones you yearned for most on your loneliest nights.
and you had to be happy for ellie. even if she wasn’t for herself.
the worst part is, ellie noticed you begin to pull away, and she let you. she let you go.
now she sits here, on her cheap brown sofa, staring at the tv that has yet to be hooked up. phone in her hand, like an idiot waiting for something that’s not going to happen just because she wishes it would. she simply cannot manifest you to come back. she has to do something about it.
after seconds of contemplation, she curses to herself, grabbing the device and calling your number. which rings, and rings, and rings, up until voicemail. which she decides to leave.
“uh— hey, y/n,” she gets up, scratching the back of her neck, “im…im in jackson…for good,” she chuckles nervously, “if you want to catch up, im free the next couple of days. just let me know…um…bye.”
fucking dumbass, she thinks, ending it and dropping her phone on the couch behind her. the worst you can say is no.
ellie wished that were true.
the worst had happened, and it’s you ignoring her completely. days pass and there’s absolutely nothing from you. she hopes to see you around town, making sure she looks decent enough just to run and pick up groceries, but luck is not on ellie’s side.
a week home and she’s only seeing you in her imagination. flashbacks of the evening she left, a beautiful day before a horrid storm.
ellie is self-aware, she knows it’s pathetic to keep moving in place rather than moving on. pretending like you still care for her as she does to you, even if you have yet to communicate it.
she knows it’s wrong. and she can only mourn the idea of no longer having you for so long.
as told by joel, she should only focus on what she has control of. don’t know when he got the time to read a self-help book, but she listens to him. joel was usually right, she hates it sometimes.
he was the first one to see the sparkle in her eye when she spoke about you. even though she denied what he had thought you two were— he continued to tell her that you’re a good one, and not to screw it up.
she could only laugh about that now.
weeks pass, and her apartment feels more like a home now, unpacked with her little trinkets scattered around the place. the first damn thing she did was stick her glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of her bedroom because you know, priorities. she likes staring at them before bed, knowing you two used to do it together. homemade star gazing, you’d tell her.
her first few days working with joel at his construction company went well. it’s tiring, she comes home feeling like she went swimming in a bucket of sweat, but it’s a nice distraction. and a nice way to keep her arms toned. the summer sun caused her freckles to multiply over her shoulders and collarbones, something you used to admire.
dina and jesse have been spending time with her, smoking at one of the lakes in jackson while sitting in the back of her red pickup truck. a playlist will play lowly from the vehicle's speakers, a few songs she only learned because of you. songs you had told her reminded you of her. she finds herself humming along, the melodies bringing back memories that carve into the center of her heart.
she came home one night, very high, and saw a stray cat digging into a plastic bag filled with garbage. without thinking twice, she crouched down and called to the cat softly. it rubbed against her, and she fell in love. she threw the garbage out and brought the little creature inside. she now has a black cat named orion. the very first constellation she taught you about amongst the many.
it’s hard, the constant reminders of you in little day-to-day things, but ellie gets passed it.
slowly, but surely, she’s finding herself; without you. it’s healthy. it’s good. she’s good.
it’s a random tuesday night when her phone vibrates while she’s getting off work, the woman pulling it out of her pocket while wiping the grim from her forehead. a message, from you.
would you wanna meet up tomorrow?
her heart beats out of her chest, leaning against the chipping paint on her truck. she can’t help it— she responds right away.
yea, is my place cool?
ellie stares at the screen, tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth, tapping her converse on the cement. when you don’t answer promptly, ellie sends another text.
we can do dinner, i can order a pizza. or a movie if you wanna.
you can probably read her tone through the screen, the desperation. but having you right there at that moment, she doesn’t care. especially when you agree— part of her not expecting you to.
ellie gets in her head, part of her convincing herself it was a date…ish…the humbling part of her telling her it was a casual hangout. it’s a win either way. she could see you for a mere minute and still be satisfied.
ellie went home that night, fed her sweet cat, and passed out on her messy bed.
with you in mind, of course.
the following day is long as fuck. she’s antsy, convincing joel to let her go early, organizing the most random shit in her apartment. you hadn’t even reached out yet, she doesn’t know when you’re gonna bless her with your presence.
she doesn’t know if you still like peppers on your pizza, but she orders it anyway. she doesn’t know if you want a romcom or a horror movie, so she finds options for both. she’s anxious, grabbing a beer from the fridge hoping it eases her somewhat.
ellie glances at her phone for the fiftieth time, worried she might have missed a text. she doesn’t. and as hours pass, she drinks more and more.
you never show up.
the full moon is up in the sky by this point. and once again, like deja vu, there is nothing from you. and it hurts.
her mind is foggy from the alcohol she occupied herself with while waiting for you, half of the untouched pizza is cold as it sits on her counter. her cat is watching her pace back and forth.
why? why would you lie to her? why would you get her hopes up after so long? she’s beyond upset. she’s pissed off. you’ve never made her feel this way.
then you text her.
can’t make it. im sorry
she huffs through her nose, shaking her head, then she calls you. which, you ignore, and you ignore again, and again. she keeps calling, she doesn’t care if she’s annoying you. in fact, she wants to. if that’s what it takes for you to acknowledge her.
it’s the tenth time when she listens to the automated voice speak to her, that she leaves a voicemail.
“hey, y/n, dunno if you remember me,” she laughs, scratching the back of her neck, “seems like you don’t. think im a stranger to you now. might as well be, you clearly don’t want to see me anymore— what the fuck —h-how could you? i-i get it, i messed up— i-i left —but im fucking trying here, y/n. and you have to make this so fucking hard for me.”
her voice is breaking, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, and despite trying to hold them back, she can't stop them from falling. “we were friends…more than friends…y-you fucking kissed me before i left…or did you forget that? d-did that mean nothing to you? why did you do that? i thought about it for months…d-did you?”
ellie’s rage shifts to pain, catching her off guard. she clenches her jaw, struggling to keep her composure, then takes a deep, shaky breath.
“i-i just miss you…i miss you so bad it fucking hurts. i came back because of you, you know that? and i haven’t even seen you— it drives me crazy. im fucking losing my mind here, y/n. all i think about is you. i wish…i wish you felt the same…i don’t know how to get over you. just tell me how to. please— i’ll leave you alone. just tell me to.”
i’ll leave you alone. just tell me to.
ellie’s soft voice cracks, you dread it. many things bother you in this universe. one of them is bearing witness to ellie breaking down and not being able to comfort her.
you were the only one that could— the only one she felt comfortable expressing herself to. except now you are the cause of it. and that is the worst feeling in the world.
you pull your phone away from your ear, turn it off, and place it face down on the table before you. your dinner is still hot and untouched, your partner’s plate mirroring yours. they took a phone call nearly ten minutes ago, an unimportant one, but they valued anything and anyone else before you.
you don’t know why you’re here…why you ditched her for them. someone you love for someone you don’t. someone who needs you for someone who barely wants you.
a place to stay? a body to keep you warm at night? a person to bring home to your family? what’s the point? she’s home. she’s here. and she’s not out of touch, she’s within your grasp, yet you won’t commit to reaching out to her. why?
“mind putting that away for me? friend needs a favor,” your partner quickly says, already out the door before you could even question them or say goodbye.
you’re alone, but you’ve felt lonely in this dim house since the day you came here.
but nothing is keeping you here. you get up, not bothering to clean up the meal you spent an hour making, throwing on a jacket and grabbing your keys.
you drive to ellie’s place. it feels long, catching every red light and driving down roads with the lowest speed limits. you don’t even know if she’ll still be awake by the time you arrive, or if she even wants to see you anymore. but you need to see her.
you lazily park on the street, letting yourself into the building and knocking rapidly on her door. you can hear muffled music playing from inside her unit, then her footsteps.
“i’ll turn it down—” ellie barely opens the door, and doesn’t look at you, not until your hand is on the wood when she attempts to close it.
when she does, her eyes are bloodshot, and she freezes in place.
“can you let me in?”
she hesitates, not because she doesn’t want to, but rather she can’t believe a drunken voicemail had you at her doorstep so damn quick. she obeys, stepping aside, unable to look away from you. you’d do the same, but you’re too distracted by her home.
the fern green color scheme that compliments it, the framed rare trading cards on her shelves, a photo of astronaut cats on her wall that you had gifted her. so many things that made her, her. very nerdy, very adorable, things. and then you look at her, absolutely desolated before you.
“i…i thought…i thought you couldn’t…” she can’t get the sentence out, scanning your face as she tries to speak. you look so so beautiful. she wishes she could forget the things she said to you, and how upset she is with you right now.
“i was worried,” you admit, “you didn’t sound okay.”
“i’m not,” she laughs, walking past you, the smell of cigarette smoke and oak hugging her body. you follow her to the couch, the woman plopping her body on it, looking up at you with doe eyes.
it’s like she’s expecting you to speak first, to address the shitty message she left you. maybe scold her, yell at her, but you don’t. you kneel before her, placing your hands gently on her knees.
“what you said…i don’t…want you out of my life, ellie,” you tell her softly, thumb rubbing the denim of her jeans, “i could never want that.”
“you have a fucking funny way of showing that,” ellie spits, laughing dryly, “i asked for one thing tonight. and you— you only came here out of pity.”
“i wanted to see you.” “no the fuck you didn’t.”
“yes i—” “jesus christ, stop lying to me,” her voice raises slightly hiding her face behind her hands as she squeezes her eyes shut. “i’m not.”
“you are!” she suddenly throws her hands forward, “l-like when you told me you loved me that night, you remember that?”
it’s the same night you kissed her, the very same moment. the one that is very clearly haunting her, as it does you. it was honest, both those three words you’ve felt for her the moment you got attached to her and the kiss you only pulled away from when you were suffocating against her lips.
neither of you wanted it to end, but it did, along with whatever your relationship was. it was killed, and it is utterly haunting you two.
you move your hands to her own, feeling how hot they are against your cold ones. you two always balanced each other out. “i do love you, els.”
”stop,” she mumbles, “please…stop.”
“i’m not lying to you,” you promise, “yea, i-i pushed you away but you moved away, ellie, you have to understand that.”
ellie is silently crying again, shaking her head, repeating the word ‘stop,’ in a hushed tone. “then you found someone, and so did i, and it got so damn complicated,” you continue, “i don’t want it to be…and i do…i do want you.”
“what?”
“i want to go back— to what we had. i want that, els, i want you.”
she stares at you through her wet lashes, afraid to speak, wondering if you mean it. or if this was a pity love confession, or if this was a cruel joke, or if this was real. any other possibility than you genuinely yearning for her the way she did you.
her head feels heavy, it’s too much.
you hold her knuckles, softly rubbing them, shifting on your knees to lean closer to her. “i need you, ellie,” you whisper, she’s heard those words before.
it was you going to a party you were anxious about. it was you watching a horrible movie you’d only tolerate with her beside you. it was you sobbing on your front porch, waiting to see her headlights in the rain. it was her telling you she was leaving this town and you behind. you needed her then, you need her now.
you push yourself forward, a hand on her cheek to dry whatever tears had wet it. she leans into your hand like her cat does when she gives it affection, wanting it to last forever. then, she feels your soft lips on her forehead, ellie sighing at the sensation.
you tell her once more, “i love you.”
it’s too good to be true.
maybe, if the timing was right, it would be real. if she never left you, if you didn’t settle for something you could hardly call a relationship, if you could just let her back in— this bittersweet moment would happen.
but that’s simply not ellie’s or your reality.
your reality is sitting at an empty kitchen table, your dinner cold, listening to her voicemail on repeat, thinking about how you could just change your mind right there and leave. to see her, tell her everything you want to. but you don’t.
you end up going to bed with a heavy heart. your partner comes home, apologizing for leaving you, holding you to sleep, making you feel loved enough that you don’t want to leave that bed.
ellie passes out with a black-and-white movie playing in the background, envisioning you there with her, trying to salvage what you two have left. telling her you love her again, reassuring her that you truly mean it, that you want her. that you two could live the life you yearn for, but you’re not, and she can’t make you.
she will wait for you.
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