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celiababy · 20 days ago

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Ain't Right part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's the holiday season and Joel is a Scrooge.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, oral sex (m!receiving), SQUIRT, creampie, threats of violence, alcohol

Celia's note: uhm hello??? what the flip thank y'all sm for all the love on my first post!! I got so many requests to make a part 2 so dinner's ready y'all dig in!!!!

Read the first part! > part 1

Jackson looked so pretty this time of year. The Christmas lights, the snowmen, the comfy sweaters and chocolate chip cookies; you loved it all.

Especially gift-giving.

To you, there was really nothing better than seeing someone's face light up when they open a present.

This year, there was someone special you planned to go all out for.

It had been 3 days since Joel Miller fucked you in his house, on his bed.

You hadn't stopped replaying the moment in your mind, especially the part when he finished all over your stomach.

However, it just so happens that after those amazing thirty minutes, Joel was called away by Tommy.

He had to leave and do something that you weren't allowed to know about. Undoubtedly some dangerous mission that pained you to think about.

So your victory was short-lived.

But, like the gentleman he was, he walked you home and made sure you were okay before he left. You wanted to kiss him goodbye, but felt too nervous to do so.

You don't know why—he literally had his cock in you a few moments prior.

Yet you couldn't, and just had to watch him walk away.

Now, you haven't seen him in three days and were starting to get serious withdrawals. Whatever he was up to couldn't have come at a worse time.

You finally had the taste of his perfection, now he was gone, leaving you to deal with your desire alone.

You tried to preoccupy yourself with helping set up all the Christmas decorations around town as well as baking an absurd amount of treats.

You also managed to get him a little gift in the meantime, stuffing it in the cutest box with the prettiest wrapping paper.

God, you hoped he'd come back soon.

And luckily, he did!

You had heard from Maria that everyone had returned from their trip—safe and sound.

She had also told you that she was throwing a little Christmas get-together at her and Tommy's house to celebrate.

She was careful to mention that Joel would be in attendance.

So, that night, you whipped up your signature cinnamon apple recipe and put on your cutest outfit.

You topped it with some fuzzy reindeer antlers because you were in a very festive mood.

As you walked alone to Maria and Tommy's, you were freezing your ass off in your skirt and sweater. You wore tights with your skirt in hopes that it would help with the cold, but who were you kidding?

You didn't care, though. You just cared if Joel thought you looked pretty or not.

You pranced up the steps of their porch, letting yourself into the house and getting immediately bombarded by the hoard of people inside.

Maria made it seem like it was going to be a small thing, but the entire Jackson population seemed to be in her living room.

Thankfully, Tommy catches you come in and walks up to greet you. "Hey there stranger," He grins, looking down at the dish in your hands. "What you got there?"

"Brought desert," You chirp, handing it to him with a proud smile.

"Well well," He muses as he takes the glass container from you, looking it over with surprise. "Didn't think you could tie your own shoes, let alone bake anything."

You roll your eyes before scoffing. "You're just mad because I can tie my shoes and bake something before you can conjure a coherent thought."

Tommy fakes a wince before chuckling. "Alright, touché kid. We're gonna be playing charades in a little bit so stick around, alright?"

You nod, having absolutely no intention of 'sticking around' for charades. Tommy wanders off with your apples, finally giving you a moment to survey the party.

Obviously, you were looking for one person in particular.

You squeezed through all the crowds of people, scouring what felt like every room in the house.

But no dice.

Joel was nowhere to be found and sadness washes over you like a tidal wave.

Was he doing this on purpose?

Torturing you by depriving you of his presence? This was hell.

You plant yourself by the special eggnog and down several glasses to take the edge off.

You were tipsy in no time, it really didn't take much. It was like Maria just dumped an entire bottle of vodka in the bowl and splashed some milk in it. It was disgusting, really, but it was getting its job done.

As you hunched yourself over the bowl, someone tapped you on your shoulder.

You spin around, your hopes high.

"Joel!—Oh. Hi Connor." The disappointment you feel inside displays clearly in your tone.

You're now face to face with the boy who has been unsubtly trying to sleep with you for months.

"Hey there! You look fucking great tonight." He flirts, a smug grin on his face.

You grimace because you know he thinks he's so cool, even though you'd rather die than stand here with him right now.

"Thanks." You say flatly, turning back towards the eggnog and pouring yourself another glass. For some reason, Connor takes this as an invitation to step closer, now invading your space.

You don't even bother trying to hide your disgusted expression. His cologne is attacking your nostrils, and it doesn't even smell good.

"That skirt looks amazing on you." His eyes unabashedly drag along the skin of your legs, making you shiver in disgust. He takes it too far when his hand comes up to brush your arm.

"You come here with anyone?" He coos, leaning against the food table like he was hot shit or something.

You couldn't stand this douche. Just as you were about to tell him to fuck off or something, you feel someone looming over you.

"She did." A gruff voice comes from behind you, and you immediately recognize that it could only be one person.

You whip around, your face lighting up at the sight of Joel.

His expression is settled into a natural scowl, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at the boy in front of you both. Even though he looked scary as shit, he was so fucking hot.

You're instantly horny just at the sight of him.

Connor scoffs, looking between the two of you, but your eyes stayed glued to Joel.

"Really? Him? But he's like—an old man." Connor spits, which immediately earns a glare from you.

Just as you're about to cuss him out, Joel beats you to it.

"Walk away before this old man breaks your jaw." His voice is stern, not to be tested.

It makes your core tighten with need.

Hearing the threat that he assumes to be all too real, Connor doesn't waste time scurrying off.

You turn back towards Joel, a warm, relieved smile spreading across your face. “Hi,” You whisper, wanting to hug him so bad but holding yourself back because he wasn’t a big fan of PDA. “M'so glad you're back." You do, however, step closer into his personal bubble.

His face softens when he finally looks down at you, and you can almost swear you see his lips curling up into a smile.

"Yeah, me too, kid." He husks out, looking between you and the bowl of half-empty eggnog. "Enjoyin' yourself?" He asks with somewhat of a disappointed look on his face, clocking that you were a little tipsy.

"Now I am." You answer truthfully, beaming up at him. "Have you been here the whole time? I was looking for you earlier but I couldn't find you."

Joel shifted on his feet, sliding his hands in his pockets. "Just got here. Tommy was talkin' my ear off at the door." He explained, an exasperated look on his face.

You laughed and nodded, knowing you both shared that experience.

"Are you having a good time, though?" You ask, actually curious because he seemed like he would rather be anywhere else right now.

He shrugs, brushing a hand through his short hair. "This Christmas holiday crap is givin' me a fuckin' aneurysm." He huffs out with complete honestly, scratching the back of his neck.

"What? Really? Why?" The shock and bewilderment in your voice isn't lost on Joel.

He sighs out, knowing you're about to explain the magical spirit of the season or whatever.

"The blizzards, people spazzin' out over gifts, all 'cause some fat guy is coming down chimneys—s'all just ridiculous."

You want to giggle at how actually annoyed he sounded, but you hold it down.

Grouchy old man.

"I'd let you come down my chimney," you flirt, but then correct yourself. "I have let you come down my—"

Joel shoots you a glare, daring you to finish your sentence.

You know when to cut your losses, so you don't.

"Well, speaking of gifts," You start, rummaging in your bag to pull out your present for him. You hold it up, the pink wrapping paper making him cock an eyebrow. "Merry Christmas, Scrooge."

Joel feels an unfamiliar feeling swimming around in his stomach at the sight.

He slowly takes the box from you, looking at it like it was a puzzle.

He really wasn't expecting anything from you. But he supposed people who have had the other persons genitals inside them should probably give them something for Christmas.

He finds himself very pleasantly surprised.

After a moment, he finds something to say.

"Couldn't find some manlier wrapping paper?" He coughs, his voice low but it's obvious he's joking with you.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Just open it!"

Joel somewhat grins at your impatience but finally starts to open the box.

That grin drops off his face after he sees the contents, an immediate bittersweet feeling swelling in his chest.

You're watching his face so intently, so scared that he didn't like it based on his reaction.

Joel pulls out the watch from the box, clutching it tightly. He's not saying anything, so you hear yourself start to ramble.

"Do you like it? I just saw that the watch you wear is broken so I figured I'd get you a new one. If you don't like it I can take it back."

You're starting to crumble underneath the weight of his silence, anxiety bubbling in your gut. Just as you're about to ask him if he's okay, Joel finally looks back at you.

"S'real great. Thank you." His tone is genuine, you can tell he's telling the truth. But why does he look so pained?

"Of course." Your murmur, your eyes searching his. After a moment of silence, you clear your throat. "There's one more thing, actually."

Joel's shoulder slump. "You got me another present?" He asked tiredly, looking at you with disbelief.

A guilty smile paints your face before you gesture for Joel to follow you. "It's upstairs. C'mon."

He doesn't know how much more his heart could handle.

Reluctantly, he follows you up the stairs, wondering why you had a gift waiting for him in Tommy's guest bedroom.

You open the door and close it behind you both, purposefully not turning the lights on.

Joel walks into the center of the room, standing aimlessly and confused as to why you hadn’t flipped the light switch yet.

But then he hears the rustling of clothes and when you eventually turn the lights on, you're wearing nothing but a bra and panties.

His cock immediately gets hard.

"What do ya think you're doin'?" He whisper yells, trying to keep his eyes on your face but that proves to be impossible because your tits looked so good in lace.

"What? You don't like it? I bought it for you." You give him a 360 and he has to brace himself against the bed.

Fuck you looked good.

He sits down on the mattress, dragging a hand down his jaw in thought.

He's debating if he's really about to fuck you in his brother's house.

Why were you always making him go against his morals?

A few seconds of silence pass between the two of you before Joel snaps his eyes back to your figure.

"C'mere."

Got 'em.

You squeal excitedly before running over, slotting yourself between his legs and placing your hands on his shoulders.

In turn, his large hands come out to hold your hips, his gaze zeroing in on your perfect-looking cleavage that he was now eye-level with.

Just as he was about to slide his hands up to grope your breasts, you sink down to the floor.

Joel's puzzled as he watches you get on your knees, looking up at him with those mischievous eyes. He truly has no clue what you're up to, that is, until you bring your lips to the bulge in his jeans.

You place the softest kiss on his clothed hard-on, earning a groan from him.

Now he knows what you're trying to do.

He juts his hand out, holding you firm by your shoulder.

"You ain't gotta do that, sweetheart." Joel says softly, probably the softest you've ever heard him say anything.

Your body erupts in goosebumps when you hear the endearing pet name slip so effortlessly from his lips.

"I want to—been wanting to since, like, forever." You murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his inner thigh.

Joel wasn't sure what to think right now.

His past romantic experiences taught him that blowjobs were a hassle for women—something that they did only if they felt they had to.

But here you were, looking up at him with those wide eyes and wanting nothing more than his dick in your mouth.

You surprise him everyday.

His dick has literally never been harder, especially when you finally start unzipping his pants to let it spring free.

You gaze up at him again, waiting for his green light.

Joel had one hand white-knuckling the edge of the bed, while the other gently caressed the side of your head.

He offers a short nod of approval, already trying not to come just by the sight of his cock so close to your face.

You waste absolutely no time in grabbing the base of his dick with both hands, gingerly licking at his tip to warm him up.

Joel throws his head back, groaning at the feeling.

You tilt it up so you can drag your tongue all the way up his shaft, then bring your mouth down on his tip.

"Fuck," Joel curses, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before snapping back open, not being able to look away from you.

Tears are falling from your eyes the farther you go down on him, the sensation of his head poking the back of your throat was making you dizzy.

But you don't stop. You're eager to please.

Your hands pump at the length you can't reach, while your warm mouth and tongue swirl around him.

You're too good at this, and Joel knows he's not gonna last long.

He can't help it when his hand in your hair turns into a fist, tightly gripping the strands like he was afraid you might go somewhere.

You moan when he accidentally pulls your hair forwards, forcing you deep on his cock. You bet he didn't even realize what he just did, based on the way his chest was heaving and his face looked so lost in pleasure.

You gag and more tears spill from your eyes, but you don't even dream about lifting off. If Joel was getting off on this, you were going to do more of it.

You moan, still keeping his cock in your mouth as you try to go even deeper down on it.

"Oh fuck—" Joel suddenly yanks your mouth off his cock, breathing heavily as he stares down at you.

You cough and sputter at the loss, looking up at him with that same fucked out expression you had last time.

"Why?" You manage to whine, wondering why he stopped you before he came.

Joel doesn't answer—instead he picks you up by your armpits and places you on the bed.

The quick change almost gives you whiplash, but Joel's surprisingly steady and husky voice guides you.

"On your stomach, pretty girl." He mutters as he taps your leg in a gesturing manner.

...Was he trying to kill you with that bedroom voice of his?

A whimper crawls its way out of your throat, your body having an audible reaction to his sweet words.

You flip over onto your stomach, instantly arching your back for him.

Being the impatient man he was, he rips your panties and throws them to the side in a lust-driven blur.

You literally didn't even care. Sure, they were new, but you'd just find another pair. The only two thoughts in your mind right now was Joel and Joel's dick.

Something warm and soft prods at your entrance before slipping to wedge between your folds, gathering up your slick.

You try to push back on it, but Joel holds you still, making you lose the rest of the small amount of composure you had left.

"Joelpleasefuckme," You sob, your cunt weeping for his cock. "need you so bad it hurts,"

You reach back, your hand finding his that was holding your hip and squeezing it.

Joel didn't want to admit to himself how much he loved the neediness in your voice, your obvious desperation made him harder.

"M'gettin' there, don't gotta beg me baby." He mutters, his hand that you grabbed intertwining with your fingers. His other hand was rubbing circles in the skin around your hips.

You feel that same sensation of his tip, but then Joel also brings his chest down to engulf your back.

You're already trembling, but when he begins to pepper kisses down the nape of your neck and back, all while slowly sheathing himself inside your pussy...

You effectively lose your mind.

"OhFUCKJoelloveitsomuch," You blabber, not having enough strength to hold yourself up anymore so your head drops into a pillow, muffling your moans.

Effortlessly, he pulls you back up so that your back is flush with his chest, his one arm wrapped around your stomach to keep you secure.

You rest the back of your head on his shoulder as she starts rocking into you, letting your body go limp because you know he's got you.

"Can you take it or do I need'a stop?" He asks, his tone making you dizzier.

You frantically nod, turning your head to the side to look at him. "I can take it, promise I can," you muster out between moans. "please don't stop—want your cock in me forever-"

Joel chuckles.

God, he really never stood a chance against you.

"I don't know about forever sweet thing, but I'll see what I can do for tonight, yeah?"

You giggle airily, like you weren't all there, nodding your head in acknowledgement. Your eyes are closed for a second but you feel his lips on yours, hungrily taking whatever they wanted.

You passionately return his kiss, mewling into it because his lips paired with the slow thrust of his dick was enough to drive you crazy.

The stretch of his cock is as close to heaven as you're ever gonna get.

His speed picks up which means your moans get louder, and Joel has no choice put to bring his other hand up and cover your mouth.

There's still a party going on downstairs, after all.

"Gotta be quieter baby," he pants, even though he's not slowing down his speed at all.

You whine into his hand, surprisingly loving the feeling of it because it's like he's swallowing you whole.

You feel that tight coil in your stomach slowly start to come undone, and you know you won't last long now. You try to tell Joel, but his hand is muffling your noises.

All the sudden, he speaks in your ear—his voice low and raspy. "Don't want you doin' this with anyone else, hear me?"

...Well.

You weren't expecting that.

His words probably made you soak the sheets because of how wet you became.

He sounded so stern when he said it too, making your heart flutter even more.

You nod, tears pouring from your eyes. He lets his hand off your mouth for a moment and you immediately jump at the opportunity to speak.

"Only want you, only ever wanted you, Joel—m'all yours, always been yours," You mewl after gasping for air, your body jolting with each of his deep thrusts.

"Fuck," Joel swears, quickly but carefully putting you down only to flip you over onto your back. Now in missionary, he buries himself all the way inside you again before dropping down so your faces are centimeters apart. "All mine, huh?" Joel reiterates, and you can't tell if he's mocking you or maybe asking for clarification.

Probably the ladder.

You agree nonetheless, a string of yes's spilling from your mouth.

"Yeah, just for me." He pants, slamming into you with more vigor than before. Your cunt is constricting around him like a vice, he's—not planning to last much longer either.

"M'gonna cum," you whine, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support.

When Joel hears this, he drops a hand down to rub at your clit, making you come undone altogether.

"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck waitwait Joel-" You feel something..unique boiling, but then Joel's expert fingers release the flood gates.

You scream as you squirt all over his cock, your entire body writhing with the overstimulating pleasure.

Your juices soak him. When he see's this, he comes immediately.

He groans as he finishes inside you, unloading into your snug cunt. The feeling is incomparable for the both of you.

Once the haze of perfect pleasure dissipates, Joel realizes what he's just done.

"Shit," he grits, pulling out and watching his seed drip from your hole. "Fuck."

You manage to sit up on your elbows, looking up at him with teary eyes. "Don't worry," Your voice is quiet and cracked—you just had the squirt fucked out of you, after all. "I've been on the pill since we had sex the first time."

Joel looks down at you, stupefied.

Eventually, he feels his heart start beating again and huffs out a sigh of relief. "Thank christ." He leans back against the headboard, raking a hand through his hair and thinking about how that was a fucking close one.

You're lying next to him, still trying to catch your breath. "That felt so good," You manage to murmur, your body still shivering from the after shocks.

After you catch your breath, you turn your head to look up at him. "M'serious about what I said, about bein' yours."

He looks at you and your serious face for a moment, then brings his hand down to gently ruffle the top of your head.

"Yeah, I know you are." His texan drawl prominent.

"I'd let you brand me with a fire poker if thats what you wanted." You say flatly, no joking tone in your voice whatsoever.

Joel is taken back by the sudden jump in intensity, assessing you to make sure you were being for real.

You were, and when he realizes this, he shakes his head. "You've lost your damn mind." He grunts, dragging a hand down his face.

You shrug.

"I think a ring would do the trick." Joel mutters, not meaning for it to have some kind of underlying message or anything. But you're quick to jump to conclusions.

"A ring?" You squeal, moving to lay on his chest which earns a huff from him. "Didn't know we were already goin' steady like that, Miller!" You tease, the giddiest smile on your face.

"I didn't mean—quit. You know what I was sayin'." Joel grunts, looking at you with an unamused expression.

You don't quit though.

"My ring finger is a size 6, would love 2 carats but if you can swing for 3 that would be perfect—also, I hate silver bands, it has to be gold—but make sure it's not that super yellow fake gold, I like more rustic looks, I mean, if that wasn't obvious-" You cast him a glance, alluding to the fact that he was rustic looking.

Joel rolls his eyes before gently nudging you off him, getting off the bed and walking over to your clothes that you discarded a long time ago.

You continue rambling from your position on the sheets, staring up at the ceiling as you recited, in extreme detail, how you loved oval shaped diamonds the most.

He walks back over and manhandles you to sit up. "Lift up your arms." He mutters, putting your sweater back on you.

"Hm, gettin' some serious deja vu right now." You murmur, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, yeah, hush." He grumbles before sliding your tights and skirt back on as well.

The act is so kind and heartwarming. You mumble a thank you before standing up, almost falling back down because your legs were still a bit weak.

Joel made a motion like he would've caught you, reaching his arms out. "Careful." He warns, planting a hand on your lower back for stability. You giggle and nod, regaining your ability to walk slowly but surely.

You guys tried to discretely walk back down the stairs, but with Joel's hand on your back and your happy expression--it wasn't hard for people to guess what happened.

***

A couple days had passed since Tommy and Maria's party.

You were finishing up some hand-made Christmas cards on your desk when you heard a knock at your door.

"Coming!" You shout, leisurely making your way to the front door.

When you open it, no one's there. You look around, only seeing a familiar male figure walking away in the distance. When you step outside to shout after him, you feel yourself kick something.

Upon looking down, a small velvet box lays at your feet.

You pick it up carefully, opening it to reveal a gold ring placed so delicately inside. The small note inside reads:

Merry Christmas. -Scrooge

#smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #drabble #I need him so carnally

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heejamas · 21 days ago

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𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗴𝘂𝘆

pairing: jake x fem!reader x sunghoon

synopsis: you decide to go to your first college party after two years, and after having to take care of two different drunk men, your college life changes drastically.

genre: social media au (smau), crack, fluff, smut, strangers to lovers, love triangle, college au

warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, little bit polygamic, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, ignore timestamps please!!! it's all crack zero braincells kinda au, reader is jungwon's twin sister, jake and hoon hate each other

teaser 📓

profiles: 1 | 2 | 3

incoming chapters

1. greek god

2. the bro code

3. jungwon's best friend

4. rabbit hole

5. niki from the future

6. she's coming...

7. the aftermath (2.6k words)

8. like a prayer trend

9. werefolf

10. naruto and sasuke are gay

11. thanks sigmund freud

12. bros like to gossip

13. women are dating robots in 2025

14. between two wolves (2k words + 6 screenshots)

15. shawty had them apple bottom jeans

16. the john cena episode

17. coming soon!

heejama's masterlist 📎

author's note: hey guys! this is my first long smau so i hope you guys like it 🥹 taglist is open, just comment down below or dm me 🤍

#enhypen au #enhypen fake texts #enhypen texts #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen smau #sunghoon smau #sunghoon au #sunghoon smut #jake smau #jake fake texts #jake smut #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x you

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bunny-jpeg · 6 months ago

Text

how can i take your order? all you have to do is pick a dessert, drink and driver/character of your choosing! are you in the mood for a mille-feuille or a big slice of chocolate cake! please, please, please indicate who you want me to write about!!

the servers are from the following: formula one, call of duty, baldur's gate 3, haikyuu, one piece, jujustu kaisen, detective comics (dc), marvel comics (but i am open to any other fandoms you might have in mind! please do not hesitate to ask!!)

i do also accept polyam relationships! (pairing + reader), up to about four people! just to make it manageable on my end!

all orders can be made to the inbox for @bunnys-kisses and i'll get your order together asap! also let me know if you want it extra sweet or a little more spicy !

mille-feuille: “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”

butter tart: "let's ruin ourselves for anyone else."

sugar pie: “gonna let daddy hear ya?”

zebra cake: "well, what do we have here?"

carrot cake: "swallow it. all of it."

millionaire shortcake: "if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family."

pots de crème: "if a picture is worth a thousand words, then i could probably get a million dollars for this photo."

oat flapjacks: "i'm not scared of you."

persian rolls: "it's mandatory i finish. you getting to finish is a treat."

spice pie: "i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut."

mushroom pie: "if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up."

lemon slice: "i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making."

swiss roll: "everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you."

pumpkin pie: "i've met strays who were more obedient."

pastry braid: "your job is to make me cum. now get to work."

sausage roll: "i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt."

pithivier: "if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you."

tiramisu: “my little slut to ruin.”

sponge toffee: "aw, is someone mad that they can only cum because of me?"

pull-apart bread: "i love you"

powered sugar donuts: "marry me."

blueberry bars: “gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.”

pudding chomeur: "i don't share."

ice cream bars: “did you see the way he was eyeing you? he need to know you're mine."

chocolate cake: "do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day."

soufflé: "i'll be gentle."

fried dough: "i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want to take yours."

apple pie: "now be good and beg. thank you."

vanilla cheesecake: "where are your manners?"

berry trifle: "wrong. try again."

maple cream pie: "either you wear the necklace with my name on it, or wear my bruises around your neck."

s'more: "The accent gets to you, doesn't it?"

belgian waffles: "i cum in that every night."

pancakes: "if you bite me. i'll bite you back."

loaf of whole wheat bread: "you're going to shut that mouth and take me."

jos louis: "does someone need a daddy?"

maple taffy: "oh my god you're stupid."

snowballs: "don't worry, drug tests aren't till next week."

shortbread cookies: "and who does this belong to?"

flan: "i'm not possessive... i'm obsessive."

peach cake: "if you spill a drop, we start all over."

angel food cake: "if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you."

red velvet cupcake: "if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one."

mince pie: "i'm not jealous."

banana bread: "i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name."

crumb cake: "if you just listened, all of this could've been avoided."

chocolate chip cookies: "you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat"

nanaimo bars: "who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it."

coffee cake: "knees. now."

sourdough bread: "i'm going to breed you."

blueberry muffins: "i don't think it'll fit."

pound cake with strawberries: "you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again."

croissant: "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

crepe: "pretty girl."

french toast: "you're trying to make me jealous!"

churros: "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?"

shortbread squares: "you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match."

savory pastry: "let your brother find out."

sweet pastry: "i'll make it all better."

eclairs: "the family's precious little girl. under me like a slut."

boston cream pie: "yeah, i'll use protection."

bagel: “gonna paint you with my teeth.”

crostata: “stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.”

tres leches: "i wonder if your brother know i cum in you."

peanut butter bars: “scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.”

eton mess: "be careful. your breath smells like cum."

scones: "but what if they see us!"

english muffin: "aw, is someone crying?"

honey cruller: "i forget how small you are sometimes."

banana split: "don't look at me like that."

beer brownies: "stick your tongue out anymore and you'll look like a dog."

fudge: "your father is pissing me off."

sticky toffee pudding: "the only way this is ending is you getting pregnant."

hot cross buns: "don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up."

brownies: "you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours."

chocolate mousse: "the only necklace you need is my hand around your throat"

tim bits: "stupid little thing."

fruitcake: "i'll make tonight special."

cornmeal muffin: "i need you most."

devil's food cake: "you're my most unhealthy obsession."

crème caramel: "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?"

banana & chocolate muffins: "i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them."

custard tart: "i've never done this before."

cinnamon rolls: "no one needs to know."

mango sorbet: "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?"

date squares: "you look better with my marks on you."

figgy duff: "if i buy it, will you stop pouting?"

spicy upside down cake: "let's play a game: don't get caught."

cream puffs: "let me finish inside."

profiteroles: "come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go."

with a side of:

coffee: rivals

tea: semi-public/public sex

juice: cockwarming

mocha coffee: breeding kink

bubble tea: daddy kink

a vodka shot: rough sex

sparkling water: gentle sex

coconut water: alternate universe

energy drink: doggy style

champagne: sugar daddy situation

hard lemonade: possessive behaviour

espresso shot: dirty talking

a glass of wine: cowgirl position

ice capp coffee: werewolf au

bloody mary: vampire au

martini: mafia au

frozen latte: dumbification

frozen lemonade: consensual non-consent

cranberry juice: mean!character

glass of water: aftercare

chocolate milk: tenderness

milkshake: size kink

pina colada: pregnancy

cider: body worship

mai tai: loss of virginity

margarita: unprotected sex

mint julep: punishments

chai: biting/hickies

earl grey: big cock

fishbowl cocktail: protected sex

tonic water: age gap

matcha latte: collars/bondage

root beer: filming/recording

soda: jealousy

americano: oral sex

whisky: degrading language

vitamin water: dom/sub dynamic

irish coffee: high sex

sangria: drunk sex

dark roast coffee: sub!character

dark hot chocolate: sub!reader

iced tea: accidentally launching relationship

lemon water: university/college au

naked & famous: bimbo/ditzy!reader

on the house: author's choice!

ORDER UP!

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mygnolia · 7 months ago

Text

three laws of motion, and the three ways i love you | sjy

synopsis -› the only person jake has to thank for you and him getting together is isaac newton, and the stupid apple that fell on his head.

pair -› sim jaeyun/jake x reader | genre -› fluff fluff fluff | trope -› friends to lovers, roommates to lovers

wc -› 4.8k

cw -› god the pining oh the pining oh you are oblivious.. how to lose a guy in 10 days minor spoilers!

a/n -› oopsie!! i fear jake in glasses has me in a trance. HES SOOO simpy

law one: any object that is put in motion will stay in motion until another force has acted on it. also dubbed as inertia!

jake does not know jealousy until he finds out the upcoming plan to check out the new ice cream shop together is canceled, all because kim sunoo is ‘cute,’ and you want to repay him for helping you in your communications class. he could have done the same thing! maybe he wouldn’t have been alone on the last saturday of this month if he reached out. he’s never been alone on this day. to be fair, you’ve done this only a handful of times, the limit reaching the number of fingers he has on one hand, but still! jake scowls and curses whoever kim sunoo is for stealing you away from him, even if sunoo has the brightest smile and the caring attentiveness jake wishes he himself had.

jake mopes on the couch, rewatching ‘friends’ until you come back, with a small smile gracing your oh-so-pretty face. he immediately springs up, helping you with your coat and asking where you’ve been, even if he knows.

“i was with sunoo.” you respond simply. He drills you with questions, laced with concern but hidden with a curiosity that could only stem from his feelings for you. “we went out to eat something small, and had some ice cream, that’s all. I was fine, don’t even worry- he drove me home and waited until i texted him anyway.” jake feels his role by your side becoming smaller, and he takes a slow breath, hoping that with his exhale goes the negative feelings he has about being competition.

“we were supposed to watch how to lose a man in ten days.” he complains, and you laugh, his voice sounding dejected. you shove him towards your bedroom, telling him that there’s still time to watch one of your favorite films of all time.

“but you’re tired.” he takes a step closer, examining the way your eyes lose energy as the day goes on as an eventual sign of your dwindling social battery.

“doesn’t mean I don’t want to watch with you.” you retort, opening your bedroom door and setting up the movie on your laptop. his eyes shine with worry as he carefully watches how you move. the way your feet drag, how you slowly thumb through a set of pajamas, and the look you give when you need to change.

but if jake is anything, he is weak- and to spend more time with you, his darling girl, is his kryptonite.

you both slip under the sheets, and it’s something he convinces himself is normal when you first started becoming roommates. when you were first told about how your friend knew someone who’d be a perfect roommate, you weren’t expecting jake, but he assured you that jake has always been an angel, and if anything happens, for you to give him a call or text immediately. it was never necessary, and your friend was right, jake proved to be a perfect roommate as time went on.

albeit, maybe a little too perfect, because with the way you’re resting on his shoulder and with the gentle way he combs through your hair, you wonder if it’s all in typical roommate fashion. you fall asleep before you can wonder if the way he pulls you closer, shutting off the lights and shutting your laptop is all in the guide to be a good roommate, or if he’s doing these things because he’s reading a different guide;

the guide to making the roommate- the same one you’ve had a crush on- your girlfriend.

you wake up to your laptop shut on your table, and the knot in your neck helps you realize you fell asleep in the wrong position. when you come out of the bathroom, you see jake buttering toast and cutting up the strawberries you begged him to buy at the market a week ago. you both hope that no mold has grown on them.

“how did you sleep?” he asks, plopping a strawberry in his mouth. you shrug, still trying to stretch out the tight feeling in your muscles.

“here,” he motions, a piece of toast between his lips as he walks up behind you. you know how attentive jake is to the little things, and the gentle way he presses at the junction of your shoulder blade and neck only proves your beliefs further. you always have appreciated him for the silent way he cares, and now, more than ever. the crunch of his toast as he momentarily pauses makes you laugh, turning around as he also smiles as he eats. you reach up, wiping the crumbs from his lips, and his eyes follow the movement without fail. he’s not sure how you two were so close, and how the white winter sun makes you look so angelic, but he doesn’t move out of place until you’re out of sight, thanking him for the slice of toast as you leave to get ready for the day.

he thinks that things have been the same for both of you, but suddenly, something changes his course, and his heart thumps in his ears, as if it’s possible that he’s fallen for you more.

the second time you have to rain check is finals- and he gets it, truly. your psychology class isn’t going to pass itself, and yet, his heart sinks like an anchor at sea when you pout and show him the 89 term quizlet you’re forced to study for the upcoming week.

“I really wish i could-“ you promise, genuine remorse in your gaze (and yes, jake’s forgiven you immediately). “I tried to study last night at the library to make sure we could finish queen of tears, but god, i feel like i know nothing.” jake understands with a silent nod, and does his best to put your feelings first. “after my final, i’ll be off- plus, you have your calculus final tomorrow morning anyways, right?” internally, jakes eyes turn into hearts, melting at the way you remember.

“multivariable calculus, yes, at 10.” he sighs, dreading the imminent test but confident in his ability to pass. he sighs, scrolling through his calendar despite there being no assignments due.

“if i help you out, can we watch after your final?” you swivel from your chair to face him lounging on your bed. he’s in a white t-shirt and jeans, an obvious outside outfit on your sheets. you glare at him, but don’t say anything.

still, the proposition interests you. “how are you even going to help me out?”

“i took this class last year, remember?”

right. “why would you even want to? psych’s like- not your cup of tea at all.”

jake responds without thinking, “i don’t mind it if it means we can spend time together.”

you both freeze, and the comfortable conversation stills. you spin back around, picking at the corner of your paper, nervously trying to find a deeper meaning in his words. “okay.” you mumble, and jake doesn’t take your change in disposition to heart, more worries over how you’ll perceive him if he’s too clingy.

“and,” he adds, standing up from your bed. “i want to see what happens. we need to finish the drama- the episode came out three days ago, and i think if i keep seeing edits, i’m going to say ‘fuck it’ and watch it myself.”

without turning around, you snort. “yeah, yeah. you would never watch an episode without me there.”

and you’re right, painfully so. jake closes your door, burying his face in his hands in embarrassment.

the next day, he keeps his promise, dragging you to his room to find a scraggly pile of handwritten psych assignments you’re confused as to why he even has. when you voice your concerns for his paper hoarding, he shrugs, retorting how it helps you regardless.

you lean against his blue pillows, crossing your legs as he sits back in his chair and asks you questions.

he reads off another question, pausing before letting you know it’s incorrect. “mmm, not really.” he tells you, glancing up. he leans over, pointing to the part in the textbook he’s been using as studying material, and you hear the tiredness in his voice with how low he speaks. jake is gentle; the way he looks at you understanding the text is no different, and his heart thuds painfully against his ribcage. he continues, no matter how much he wants to go to sleep, and by the time he’s finished explaining everything you’ve missed (which wasn’t even much) you both cheer to realize you’ve finished slide 89/89. you jump up from his bed, wrinkling his bedsheets as you envelope him in a tight hold.

“thank you.” you tell him sincerely, arms looped around his neck as jake is quick to hug you back. you feel his head rest on your shoulder, and your heart warms with adoration.

“of course, ____.”

you pause, thinking about whether or not you should still continue with your plans. “you’re tired.” you state the obvious. “and I don’t want to watch something if you need to go sleep.”

he rolls his eyes, motioning to you to scoot over so he can join you. “we always do this on a saturday so we can sleep in on sunday.” he comments, getting his laptop. you shake your head.

“it’s different, jake. this time, you’re tired and I don’t want to wake you up to make you brush your teeth or whatever.” he hears the playful lilt in your voice, and scoffs.

“you just don’t want to watch with me anymore!” he accuses, cracking a smile as he shoves you.

with widened eyes, you shake your head, teasing him about how he jumps to conclusions so quickly. “i would never, jake.” you meet his gaze with sincerity. “i love to spend time with you. always.”

if things stay in motion like this, without any rain checks or ice cream dates, jake thinks he likes this course of inertia much better- just you and him.

law two: force = mass x acceleration

to simply put it, jake sleeping in your bed will suffocate you sooner or later. despite being very smart, jake doesn’t realize that muscles means added mass, and the more he works out, the higher the chances of you dying from the incapability to breathe.

it starts with jake asking if he can sleep beside you, since the heater never reaches his room despite said room being a grand nine feet away from yours. you highly doubt his excuse, but you choose not to find out if it really is the cold abyss your roommate swears it is. he also tells you that he likes your light blue sheets with daisies on it, which is something that seems pretty plausible, and you’re swayed by his earnest compliments. when you asked why, a question spoken into the dark of your room, jake immediately responded by telling you that the holidays are the perfect time to grab a buddy and spread the holiday cheer. with a shove at his shoulder, he defends himself, saying that he wakes up earlier than you, so you wouldn’t have to even worry about seeing him in the morning.

that last part was true, jake was always extremely efficient with his time, and it meant you were sometimes waking up to a pan dropping in the kitchen during his kitchen ventures. but today? he seemed to be the opposite.

when the sun shines high in the sky, with your clock reading a time past 10am, you finally wake up. trying to brush the hair out of your face, you really start to pay attention to the way his breath fans your shoulder blade, and how almost half of his body weight was on top of yours. you were both people who enjoyed skinship, and your friendship was solid enough where you knew you weren’t uncomfortable, but it was the surprise of ending up entangled with someone who, last night, refused to get closer out of personal space.

“jake.” you call, tapping his shoulder. you can barely move, shuffling around as you watch him shuffle around under the sheets, his hands wandering to pull you closer. “jake!”

you don’t get much time to really admire him like his. his hair, all messy, had been undoubtedly better the more it grows out, and you’ve seen him put it in a ponytail- a new style that maybe you liked more than you’d like to admit. his bangs rest on the planes of his cheekbones, and you suck in a breath at how effortlessly angelic he looks in the morning sun.

truth be told, it brings you comfort to know how he subconsciously trusts you to scoot closer and eventually cling to you in his sleep.

jake’s eyes flutter open, and he slowly blinks without registering how close you are. you make eye contact, and your lazy stare flutters to closed eyes as you get comfortable on your pillow. yes, jake makes it a little hard to breathe, but in the end, it’s not that bad.

“i thought you said you wake up early.” you comment. jake swats at your face lightly, and a giggle escapes as you fight his hand. “it’s the holidays.” he says, a poor excuse as to why he hasn’t gotten up. he looks at you again, taking in your mock annoyance and smiling. “let me hold you, yeah?” he mumbles absentmindedly, still half consumed by the morning lethargy.

your heart skips a little, and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you try not to let jake’s sleepy comments get to you. he doesn’t mean it, you tell yourself, but his sleepy words are sober thoughts, and you try not to think about the deeper meaning. jake has the brightest smiles and the kindest of hearts, so much so that it makes his hugs warm and his comfort like a cozy embrace. and you really really try not to think about what he’s saying, because jake cares for all of his friends, so much so that his words are always filled to the brim with love. and despite knowing all of this, despite knowing that jake is one of the best wonderful people you know, you can’t help but think about if it were romantic, if you two barely crossed the boundary to be just a little more. plus, you’re basically there. it’s in the way no boy comes up to you, not because you’re not wanted, but because everyone assumes that the boy with the australian accent and arm around your shoulder is the love of your life; and everyone says you look at him that way. it’s in the way he texts you to come back to the apartment because it’s empty without you, or the way he’s currently falling back asleep on your shoulder, his arm secured around your waist. and you refuse to believe that it’s anything more than friendship. you’re almost positive he feels the same, but still, somewhere inside of your heart yearns for it not to be true.

your rapidly beating heart accelerates, and if you two weren’t friends, it’d be like you were forced to fall in love with jake.

before you leave for the holidays, you promise jake one more movie, as a make-up for the few days you two weren’t able to properly finish your movie nights. finally, it’s time to watch ‘how to lose a guy in ten days.’

“it’s not even a christmas special.” jake says as you type in the pirated site. you roll your eyes, elbowing the nearest part of him.

“it doesn’t have to be a christmas movie. you can’t even name a good christmas rom-com!”

he racks his brain, truly trying to find a movie that lives up to the expectations of one of the best rom-coms to exist. “fine. i guess we can watch this movie then.” and he pulls the blanket up in retaliation. you turn to him with a scowl, but he pretends not to notice.

when the movie starts playing, you make an effort to snatch his phone away, leaving it on your bedside as his attention diverts to the illuminated screen. “you’re going to love it.” you say offhandedly, watching how kate hudson and matthew mcconaughey immerse themselves in their roles.

you turn to jake, making sure he’s thoroughly paying attention.

“what?” he grins, his arm wrapping around you to rest on your waist. “I’m watching, don’t worry.”

you click the space bar. “tell me what happens, then.” you raise an eyebrow, waiting to hear his perfect retelling of the film so far.

“well, her fake therapist friend tells them to go meet his family, and everyone loves her off the get go. They play that card game and everyone helps her cheat, but she finds out that he’s never taken a girl home before. thinking about it, they were definitely in love with each other from the start. like, the way he looks at her in that entire movie! trust me, they’re in love.”

“oh,” you turn, a teasing smile on your features. “and you’re a love expert?”

jake suddenly losing focus on the movie, looking at the way you wait for his answer. he’s breathless, licking his lips nervously as he sends you a quick nod. “i know what it looks like to be in love.” he responds plainly when he returns his attention to the screen, his hand around your waist suddenly feeling clammy.

you hum, glancing over to your right again. “and what does that look like?”

the way I look at you. he thinks. instead, he shrugs. “like they hold the world in their hands.”

your eyes sparkle, interested in his answer but too invested in the film to press further.

“cliche.” and you’re awfully aware of the hand that rests against the fabric of your shirt, left to wonder if this is what it means to be in love.

when the finale finishes and the screen fades to black, you let the end credits roll to tell him about your thoughts. sentences that start with “to be honest” followed with something strongly worded, and sentences praising certain scenes reach his ears as he listens quietly. your gaze never leaves the screen as you collect your thoughts, and your head never leaves his shoulder. when your roommate doesn’t add on, you look up at him, and from the shift, jake turns to make eye contact with you. “what?” he says softly.

“you didn’t say anything.” you almost whisper. the enchanting glow of the laptop screen makes his small chuckle just a little bit more attractive, and for yet another time, you glance at his lips, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“i answered you earlier.” he whines, rubbing his eye.

“doesn’t count.” he cracks a smile at your bickering, and sighs.

“i agree with everything you have to say, princess. always have.” your stomach stirs, butterflies rustling around as you make it obvious how much you’ve been staring at his lips. “what’s wrong, angel?” he plays oblivious as he shifts so you two are facing each other. your eyes are drooped, the sleep making you slip into new and equally as dangerous territory. the corner of his lip pulls into a charming smile, and you feel your heartstrings tug so badly with the rapid of your rushing heart. you glance back at him, meeting his warm gaze before shifting a little closer.

and maybe jake’s hand immediately tightens at your waist, and maybe his eyes flutter shut as his other hand cups your jaw. and maybe, as the cliche song plays over a rolling list of names in the background, you kiss your best friend- the feeling leaving your heart jumping and your ears hot. your hands reach up, your thumb tracing his cheek as he pulls you closer. you pull back, eyes shining with content and so many unspoken feelings, and he looks at you, full of love. and you realize that this is what he means- that andie anderson and ben barry may have just been acting, but the smile he gives you is anything but.

you giggle, pulling him back to kiss him just once more- or maybe twice, and you’re selfish in the way you hold him, wanting of him all to yourself.

and maybe, just maybe, jake sim likes you back.

law three: every action has an equal opposite reaction.

yes, every action has an equal and opposite reaction; so it hangs as an unspoken truth in the sky that jake likes you as much as you do- but you never took physics, and you leave the apartment early the next morning. it’s saturday, yes, and all of your finals were done, but you usually always stay for just a bit longer, relishing in the winter air before detangling yourself with college and finally heading back home. the university holds an ice skating event for free around this time anyways, and in the few years that you two have been roommates, you’ve dragged him along with you. you were nothing like his somewhat skilled friends, but jake still reveled in your smiles and shaky yelps every time you were off balance.

off-balance. that’s how things were.

you haven’t responded to his texts, and he’s stuck pacing around the kitchen wondering what he could’ve done wrong. you leave every text unanswered, and a voicemail for every call.

nonetheless, jake tries again- desperate.

“hi-“ you say, in a breathless fleeting manner. “i’m busy-“

“no ___, you can’t just kiss me-“ the line ends, and you feel your heart beat fast again, like how it does every time you think about that december night.

on the other line, jake lets out another sigh, his heart twisting with worry. it’s an ugly and unexplainable feeling truly, how he’s worried you’ve toyed with his heart, but how if you kissed him again, it would soothe any wrinkles in his timeline- and that all his feelings would go back to being in love, and he’d be okay with it. jake would rewrite the stars, hanging the moon in the sky and undoing everything if it meant going back to then, with his palm pressed against your skin, his lips on yours, and his heart nestled within your hands, bound to whatever fate you would give him. and you know this about him, you know that jake would run around the world to find love from you, and you couldn’t treat him like that. there was no way you and jake were to work out, and while you’ve convinced yourself of this, jake on the other hand is desperate to read between the lines, finding himself going insane the more he lays there in the early AM thinking about what all of this means. he wishes he could redo it- so he could experience it just once more, and so he could understand where it went wrong. jake refuses to let you go- at least, not yet.

despite your efforts to avoid him for the week of christmas and new years, you felt your heart break the longer you left his message unopened, and responded with a sincere ‘happy holidays. stay warm, jake.’ he opens up the text, his heart still doing that weird thing where it uncomfortably beats, with excitement and disappointment all in the same vein.

and it’s like that for winter break- confused or at least until you come back a week early. you had plans on keeping a small tree in your apartment to add to the holiday spirit even after the holidays, and the box for the tree plus the ornaments had already been stowed away in your room. there’s no way he’s here- he lives hours from campus, and without any new year plans, you’re sure you’ll have the place to yourself.

you don’t check his location, too consumed to make the drive back to even notice his room has minuscule sound coming from it. the door stays shut, and without any gaps to really see any light, you don’t pay any mind in checking if there’s a sudden intruder.

the christmas tree slowly gets put together, and you sit with yourself as a show plays on the TV, quiet. it’s as if to not disturb the ambience, and you feel the cinnamon and cold settle within your bones when you throw out some of the plastic packaging.

“you’re here.”

the cold from your quick excursion, added with the sudden confrontation makes your blood run cold, unable to tear your gaze from the blinking LEDs on the fake evergreen tree you’ve put up.

“yeah, i guess so.” you say, unable to really conjure anything else up. you refuse to look him in the eye, afraid you’ll be faced with indisputable anger, resentment, and the confusion, the same feelings you had when at your own home. you’re afraid that the way you hate yourself for leaving so abruptly, and to ruin such a good thing, is the reason why jake suddenly doesn’t want you back anymore. that- because of your inability to accept that you love someone who’s so out of your league, you’ve let a good thing fizzle out.

there’s no cold in the apartment- the heater already being set to a cozy temperature, and yet the goosebumps on your skin prove otherwise. it’s biting, chilly almost, the way you both stand there, unsure of what to say.

it’s uncomfortable, and the silence leaves a hopeless feeling in your chest; one that screams that you two truly weren’t as meant to be as you thought.

“why?” he breathes.

“why..why what?”

“why’d you leave after all that happened?”

your eyes widen, scrambling your brain to find a lie to give before you give up, opting to simply tell the truth. you’ve hurt him once by leaving, an action that you truly have no excuse for. it’s winter, you lie to yourself. you rehearse in your head to tell him that you missed your family, and couldn’t wait to go home. it’s all lies, and jake’s no more than a polygraph test in human form. you couldn’t live with yourself if you lost him over a lie.

plus, you couldn’t lie to him- not after all the hurt.

“jake-“ you say hurriedly. “you’re everything, you’re perfect, you deserve more than me. you deserve more to a girlfriend than a roommate who rushes to pay rent, someone who doesn’t leave curling irons on in the bathroom, a girlfriend who doesn’t phone you at night because she doesn’t have anyone else. you don’t need someone to rely on you the way i just do-“

“maybe loving you is the worst decision anyone could ever make. maybe, yeah, i don’t deserve you walking out, avoiding me for two weeks, missing my messages, calls, or notes. maybe i could do better.” he starts, and you feel your heart sinking, knowing that it’d be for the better if it wasn’t you, but wishing so desperately that it could be. “maybe that’s the case, but i’m never going to be happy if i keep looking for better. I don’t hate you because you almost burned down the building, or if you stressed out about rent, and all of these other things that i can’t even remember we talked about.” jake lets out a dry chuckle, trying to remember anything bad about you, but falling short. “the point is, ____, that you can’t make that decision for me. what’s the point in trying to find more when all i’ve ever wanted is you?”

his eyes scan your expression, desperate for an answer as the quiet prolongs. the fresh tears that make way to your eyes springs him into action, and he’s quick to use his long sleeve to pat away your tears. “shh, don’t cry, angel. it’s okay, i understand.” his words replace the icy feeling in your body, and replaces it slowly with the hope that things really are as okay as he says they are. you nod, hugging him as apologies and explanations fall from your lips.

“i still have feelings for you.” he promises, and his words envelop you in comfort and solace. it teeters between like and love, unable to have ever gotten as close as couples do, but also knowing it’s so much more than a small crush on a roommate. there’s nothing temporary about how he rests his head on top of yours, holding you close as you ramble.

“just don’t do anything of the sort again.” he asks, looking at you with adoration. “please.”

your heart breaks a little, and you make a promise to never treat him the way you did, feeling foolish and horrible for what you had done. “i promise.” you nod. and give him a tight hug.

and things are in balance once again. if every reaction had an equal and opposite reaction, it means that you and jake sim have fallen for each other with equal amounts of force, and wouldn’t have it any other way.

WE FINISHEDDDD CHATTTTTTTTTTT YERP YERP YERP WHO CHEERED!! first real enha fic in AGES god save us all.

1K notes · View notes

wynnyfryd · 7 months ago

Text

@messessentialist told me her friend called to rant about spotting an “upsettingly beautiful boy in a tj maxx” and i vomited 1200 words about it, enjoy

—

fic idea: chrissy and eddie work together at tj maxx. one afternoon a guy comes in who’s so hot that it kinda just pisses eddie off? bc like, who does this gorgeous asshole think he is??? coming in here and popping his hip at eddie’s counter, like, does he even know how uncomfortable it is to start chubbin’ up in skinny jeans?? that shit chafes!

so eddie gets all flustered and responds by getting an attitude with the guy because he has zero chill (and also because the dude’s iced coffee is sweating a ring all over eddie’s counter, and so help him if his manager gets on his ass one more time about keeping his station tidy—)

“did you need help finding anything else today?” eddie sneers. “coasters, perhaps?”

upsettingly hot guy looks confused for a second before he follows eddie’s pointed glance at the plastic starbucks cup leaving a cold puddle on the laminate, and then he sneers right back; adjusts the ray bans nestled in his perfect honey brown hair and looks eddie up and down — long, slow, one eyebrow lifting in subtle elitist disapproval.

“what?” he snorts, “hot topic wasn’t hiring?”

oh, fuck you very much!

so eddie’s all ‘nemesis acquired’ and holds the biggest grudge of all time. makes a sworn enemy and a boogeyman out of the guy, turns him into urban legend, starts blaming the Upsettingly Beautiful Man for every little thing that goes wrong in his life — at work, at home, at band practice; no place is safe from the dreaded UBM.

“he’s not a fucking cryptid!” gareth snaps one day at rehearsal, chucking a drumstick at eddie’s head. “just track him down and bone already so you can shut the hell up!”

“wouldn’t he just talk about him more after they have sex?” jeff wonders, to which gareth narrows his eyes and raises his second drumstick as a threat.

meanwhile, eddie’s cute coworker chrissy (who he’s become surprisingly good friends with, to the point of referring to her as his work wife) gets a girlfriend. robin’s sooooo pretty, and soooo nice, and sooooo tall, eddie, did you know how tall she is?

yes, chrissy, he’s supremely aware of a stranger’s five-foot-eight-and-a-half stature now, thank you.

“you have to meet her!” chrissy gushes, bouncing up onto her toes.

eddie hangs another shirt. “you have to chill.”

“hey!” she pouts, pixar princess cute. “you wouldn’t tell the sun to dull its shine, would you?”

“i mean, i would, but i doubt the giant ball of plasma cares what i want.”

“okay, whatever, eeyore.” she rolls her eyes but she physically can’t stop beaming even as she does it, and eddie finds himself melting under it — some sort of radiant area attack coming from the apples of this girl’s cheeks, he swears, because the next thing he knows he’s agreeing to go to rando new girlfriend’s housewarming party this weekend so he can meet her properly.

only he doesn’t get to meet her properly, because when he shows up to the party the two bedroom apartment is packed with people he’s never seen, and it’s loud as fuck in here and he’s sweating through his leather from the six flights of stairs he had to climb to reach the place, so he steps through a sliding door out to the balcony and lo and behold, if it isn’t Upsettingly Beautiful Man looking upsettingly beautiful — positively fucking divine, actually, the last wisps of fuchsia sunset catching the gold streaks in his hair and dotting the tip of his flawless nose. Seriously, does this dude have any flaws? A scar, a birthmark, an unsightly ingrown hair? Eddie can’t even see a single blackhead for fuck’s sake.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” the dude mutters, turning to look at him, and, “oh, my god, you again?”

“uh.”

“i’ve got a fucking coaster this time,” the guy says, lifting his solo cup and giving it a little shake to point out the cork round sitting underneath it, “so if that’s what you came out here to berate me for, then you’ll have to think of something else.”

“uh,” eddie says again, because he has no idea what brought this on but he’s pretty sure it has shit all to do with him, and pretty boy’s really working himself up now, arms moving in sharp gestures as he paces back and forth on the short balcony.

“not that it even matters if i didn’t have a coaster, because this is my house! i can do what i want with my own fucking stuff in my own fucking apartment, nance, i don’t— uh…”

pretty boy’s face blossoms rose petal red, a heavy blush creeping up his jawline as he catches himself mid rant and folds in on himself, crossing his arms over his chest with a sheepish expression.

eddie’s always had a thing for shepherding.

“i’m listening,” he says, popping a cigarette in his mouth and holding the pack out in offering. “if you care to vent.”

the guy — steve, eddie finds out — tells him all about his controlling ex-girlfriend as they work their way through two cigarettes each, the sun slipping away to reveal a full topaz moon, big and low and close, ripe citrus bending the branch of a tree. nance was a real piece of work by the sounds of it, and eddie feels like an absolute shit for the way he treated steve, who had apparently just gotten dumped the night before they met and had been out shopping for a “please take me back” present.

“like that was ever gonna work,” steve mumbles, ashing over the railing. “pathetic. anyway, sorry i was rude to you that day or whatever.”

“you weren’t.”

“nah, i was.” steve shifts his weight, knocks their shoulders together. “not that you didn’t deserve it.”

“yeahhhh,” eddie agrees, cringing at himself. “sorry.”

“all good. so what’s your story then, huh? who pissed in your cheerios that day?”

eddie blames the alcohol fumes wafting from steve’s cup — a justification that makes perfect sense and would totally hold up in a court of law — for what he says next.

“honestly? you.”

steve’s face is so cartoonishly offended that eddie busts out laughing, eyes crinkling, head thrown back.

“oh, so you’re just an asshole,” steve nods sagely. “first cute guy to flirt with me in six weeks is a lunatic. love that for me.”

“no, i—” eddie laughs, “okay, we’re coming back to how you think i’m cute, but i just meant, uh-”

oh, fuck it. eddie’s never been good at holding his cards close to the chest. more of a 52 pick up kinda guy, historically, and why change now?

“you were so gorgeous it, like, genuinely upset me for a second,” eddie admits, running his tongue over his lip. he stubs out his cigarette; turns to look right at steve. “like, uh, like cuteness aggression or some shit.”

steve mirrors his posture, leaning an elbow on the railing, nearly chest to chest. “so you are crazy,” he smiles.

“that’s correct.” eddie swallows.

steve moves in to close the gap. “good crazy?”

“fun crazy, so i’m told.”

“i’m gonna kiss you if that’s cool.”

“very”

the kiss tastes like ripe citrus

#steddie #steddie headcanons #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #buckingham #enemies to lovers

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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

Text

EVERY INCH 3.

4.4k words, m!ghostface x f!reader

Every inch 🔪 Every inch 2 🔪 MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Ghostface watches you and calls you. He gets bored, and one of your friends gets killed. You try to swear ghostface off, but he stalks you. You want revenge.

A/N: THANK YOU for all the love. Masked Ghostface, inspired by canon gfs & night walks. HC who you want. Enough recap in the first paragraph to read as a one shot.

WARNINGS: I8+ noncon p in v, exhibitionism, voyeurism, gun play, choking, degradation, slut shaming, drugs, creampie, noncon breeding, phone sex, masturbation, knife play, a modicum of canon-typical plot/violence. Gf calls himself daddy. DEAD DOVE. NO USE OF Y/N. Starts in GHOSTFACE POV.

You aren't doing yourself any favors by thinking about him every time you get off. You should get on tinder. Go on another date. Get a boyfriend. But there's too much now. You've got a video of him whimpering with his cock out after you had your way with him, and a picture of him with cum all over his robe a minute later. And then there's the mirror pic he took in your bathroom. He's behind you, holding you naked in front of him. There's a look of arousal on your face, and you must be so ashamed, but you keep coming back to look at it every night. . .and you're not the only one.

Ghostface air dropped it to himself right after he took the pic. You should really be more careful with your settings. And your blinds, and your curtains. But you don't wanna be more careful, do you? You've got everything the cops could need to put him away. You even had his DNA, and you kept it to yourself. Allll to yourself. And you’d like to have more of it, wouldn't you? It's fascinating, really, how bad you want his cock.

You haven't heard from him in weeks, but he still comes by every once in a while. He sees your neighbor check in on you, and you keep looking at the time on your apple watch until he leaves. He sees you try on your slutty Halloween costumes– your backside looks best in that tight ass nurse dress, but god damn, your tits in that pleather. What a pretty pussy you are. Meow. He sees you get dressed for bed, and just in time.

You check your phone and glance out your bedroom window before you take out your vibrator. Ghostface takes out his cock and lifts his mask to spit on it. This is his season, you know. You must think about him all the time. Every time you see one of those phony Stab costumes. Every time you carve a pumpkin. He lets you get a head start building to your climax. God damn, you want that cock, and you do an awful job hiding it when you see the call from a restricted number. You look at your phone, biting your lip, and let it ring for a few seconds before you wet your lips and answer it. But you don't say anything. Ohh, playin’ hard to get, are ya?

Ghostface admires the stiffness of his cock in his hand and strokes it while he watches you try not to speak first. It's quite the game of chicken–at least a full minute of silence. He breathes heavier as he strokes himself, and then he hears the buzz of your toy.

"Mmm, good kitty."

"What do you want?" Your breathing is heavy, too.

"Wanna know how bad ya want this cock."

"Is your cock all you think about?"

He breathes a laugh. "That'd make two of us, wouldn't it?"

You scoff, still touching yourself, teasing your clit with your vibrator.

"Yeah that's it," he pants, and you arch your back. "Come for daddy." You come so fast it's pitiful.

You're easy. Too easy. He's getting bored.

You're a bad, bad girl, and he wants to find out how bad. You know, he's never much cared for your "friend" Marla. He suspects you don't either, based on the way you tense at her hug in the bookstore.

—-----you-------

A DILF cop comes by your house. Must be new to the force since you've never seen him. You're used to them checking on you. The COP asks if he can come in, probably trying to be thorough, you think. But he asks you to take a seat, and he sits down next to you on your sofa. When he has trouble meeting your eyes, your pulse quickens.

He knows. He must know somehow. He knows you're a sick fuck who has phone sex with ghostface and gets off to his dick pics every night. Maybe he even knows you fucked him. He might even know you forced him. You're blanking on excuses if they find the photos in your phone. The cop leans forward and his biceps strain the short sleeves of his tan uniform. He wrings his large, veiny hands as he turns his head to look at you. Finally, his big brown eyes meet your gaze, and he tells you, "He's back. Got a crime scene down the block"

The relief lasts about ten seconds, and then you don't have to feign your horror. The blood rushes from your head to your pounding heart. You foolishly thought his killing days might be behind him.

"Officer. . ."

"Call me Javi."

"How do you know it's him, Javi?" You challenge him.

"You really wanna know?" He raises his eyebrows at you.

"It's him, sweetheart." He puts a big, warm hand on your upper back, then slides it up to squeeze your shoulder. "Got someone who can stay with ya?"

You take a few seconds to answer, then whisper, “yeah.”

"Well, if not . . . " he sighs and leans way back on the sofa to reach into his uniform pants for his wallet. "Got a pen?"

He writes his personal number on a business card and leaves it with you. As you let him out the front door, sirens are wailing.

Later, you see the crime scene online. Marla isn't just dead, she's stabbed, slit, and bled dry. The water runs red in the fountain you pass every day on the way out of your neighborhood. A needed reminder of the sicko you’re dealing with.

Over the next few days, you delete the ghostface photos and the video. You get a call from a restricted number and don’t answer it. You get a text from an unsaved number: don’t tell me you thought I changed.

You delete it. When you’re leaving the neighborhood one day, you spot Javi in an unmarked car. When you get to your destination, you text him “why are you following me?”

Like a boomer, he calls you instead of texting back. You don’t answer. Then he replies, “Why don’t you have company? You shouldn’t be alone.”

You send back, “If I have company, will you leave me alone?”

“I can give you some space, sure. But I have a job to do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Keeping you safe.”

—--

You’re not going to let ghostface control your life. You don’t know what would happen if you ran into him now, and you try not to think about it, although you do find yourself going into the trash folder on your phone to look at what you deleted. You make plans to go out with friends. It’s the first weekend of October, and there’s a huge Halloween festival. You put on your nurse costume.

An hour before your friends arrive, your doorbell rings. You look at your app and it’s Javi. Well, this is awkward, you think as you finish pulling up your black, thigh-high fishnets. You answer the door and let Javi in, trying not to let your eyes linger on the way his arms stretch his sleeves. You decline to sit down.

“Look, if you’re gonna go out, you should carry this,” he says, then looks you up and down and his gaze lingers on your cleavage. You clear your throat. He swallows and gives a subtle smile like yeah so what? “Gonna wear a purse?” he asks.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You roll your eyes.

You reluctantly change into the cat costume and wear a bat purse. You go out with your friends and everyone gets way too drunk. Your friend Sam gets in an altercation after a frat party, and your other friends have to restrain her and walk her home. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with it. You insist you’ll be fine since you’re armed. You decide to walk a couple blocks before you order your ride home so you can wait somewhere with more people around.

—--ghostface—-

You filthy little slut. Are you enjoying yourself? Ignoring him, playing hard to get, acting like you’re not flattered, then teasing him, prancing around Woodsboro looking like a handjob costs $20. Walking alone through an alley – you really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you?

Ghostface knows where you’re headed. He’s seen you take this route before, so he gets ahead of you and waits. He’s vaping in the shadows behind a fire escape in the alley. When he hears the click of your slutty boots, he hits send: a dark alley? lmao. He hears the ding on your phone and the click of your heels slows down right before you reach the fire escape. no point running, he sends. Then he brings the vape pen under his mask and sucks in a mouth full of smoke, and your phone illuminates your face and your eyes widen.

—--you—--

The alley smells like weed. You’re reading the texts when ghostace appears from behind the fire escape, coming at you with his robe flowing behind him. He only has one glove on. His gloved hand grabs your throat and he pins you to the wall. You choke and gasp for air. He tilts his mask and a small amount of smoke billows out of the dark mesh at the top of his long, black mouth. He eases up on your throat only to move his hand to your jaw and tighten his grip, squeezing your cheeks to keep your mouth open as the smoke billows thicker and closer. His mask is only an inch from your mouth. You close your eyes and breathe in, and as he releases the smoke into your mouth, your clit throbs. You've got butterflies in your chest, being close to him again. You cough.

"Good girl," he says as he relaxes his grip on your jaw. Then his knee nudges your purse out of the way and wedges your thighs open.

“Bet ya miss me more than Marla, don’t ya?”

If only he wasn’t right. There’s a fire burning in the pit of your stomach just being close to him. But Javi will probably be here any minute, and you need to put up a fight so they won't be onto you. You abruptly knee ghostface in the groin. He grunts and falls backward only slightly.

"Bad kitty." He takes you by the throat again as you try to fight back. “Bad, bad girl.” He hasn't brandished his knife, but you know he has it. You can't get your gun out quickly enough. You look at your phone and it flies out of your hand as Ghostface grabs your wrist.

He lets go of you and picks your phone up off the ground, then walks away, robe trailing behind him as he disappears into the night.

You try to follow him, but he loses you. The audacity–he shotguns you, gets you all riled up, takes your phone, and leaves you, just assuming you won’t do anything about it. Assuming you’ll chase him. You think about the fountain scene. You think about him leaving you. Rage eclipses your desire. If you see him, you might actually shoot him. Now all you have is your metro card to get home, and luckily you’re close enough to the train station.

–-

Scattered groups of drunk college students stumble around, bicker, and laugh.

The train doors are open and you jog to make it in time, just barely squeezing in before the door closes behind you. The car is full, but not packed. A Freddy Kruger makes room for you, and you stand with your hand braced on the pole. You get a message on your apple watch, meaning ghostface must be in bluetooth distance.

always wanted to see you on the pole.

You look behind you, and there he is, sitting at the back of the car. You should run, but you’re gonna get your phone back at the very least. There’s too much damage he could do with what’s on it. As the passengers finish unloading, you discreetly open your purse and put your hand on your gun, then set your sights on ghostface, who’s manspreading and sitting back. The only other company in the back of the train car is a Michael Myers who looks to be passed out drunk.

You take out the gun and turn the safety off as you approach ghostface in your slutty cat costume. He pulls back his head and cowers in an exaggerated oh, i’m scared move. He stays quiet, for once.

“My phone,” you tell him.

He looks around, pretending like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

“Now,” you order and put your finger on the trigger. He takes a phone out of his pocket, but it’s not yours.

“What the hell’s wrong with you,” you ask. The train jolts and you’re propelled onto him. You brace yourself with your free hand on his strong shoulder, and when you feel his hard muscle, butterflies swarm to your core. If he isn’t going to offer up your phone, you’ll have to find it yourself. You press the muzzle of the gun into his neck, through the fabric of his mask. He freezes. You reach under his robe and pat him down, finding nothing in the front pockets of his jeans. You should check his back pockets, but first you grab his crotch while you’re at it and laugh when he’s semi-hard.

“Cock’s the only thing you’re good for, and this is what you’ve got for me?” His mask tilts down, watching you grope him. You savor the feeling of control. “Worthless,” you spit. Desire bubbles between your thighs as you feel him harden in your grip. Fuck it, you’re gonna take him one last time. You don’t want the last memory of all this to be him dominating you in your bathroom. You wanna go out on top. You fumble with his button and zipper with your free hand, then command, “Take it out.”

He tilts his mask at you, then looks behind you as though seeing who’s around.

“No one’s looking,” you mutter. “Stop fucking around.” You hold the gun to his neck and he urgently takes his hard cock out. You reach down for it. It’s thick and warm in your hand. “Don’t feel half as big as ya look on camera,” you tell him. “Pretty sad.” You spit in your hand and reach for his cock again. “So desperate for my attention,” you mock him. “You’ll do anything, wont ya?”

This is fine, you tell yourself, You’ll tell the cops he forced you, and then you’ll even have his DNA, and they can catch him, and this can all be over. . .after one last ride.

You put your knees on the seat on either side of him. You hover over his cock and use your free hand to run the head through your dripping folds, then you sink onto him and bottom out with ease. His cock twitches against your walls, and a shiver races down your spine. Your nipples harden, visible even through your pleather top. The sheer arousal pisses you off. He feels too good. A man like this doesn't deserve to be so good at dicking you down, without even trying. Without doing anything. You move up and down him, and he does exactly nothing. He knows it gets you off. You hate how full he makes you feel. You resent the incomparable pleasure that will linger in your mind, in your whole body, for days. Maybe forever.

He moans soft enough that the voice changer doesn't pick it up. You wince at the sound of his humanity.

Something comes over you. “Shut the fuck up,” you tell him as you bring yourself down on his cock again. . “I don't wanna hear your voice." You raise yourself up. "I don’t wanna know who you are." You roll your hips into him. "I don’t fucking care. I don’t care about you at all," you bite, fucking yourself on his cock, dripping wetter and wetter. You keep degrading him as you fuck him. "You’re nothing to me." In your lower belly, a climax is building. "You’re a faceless cock. Always have been.” He sits motionless as you ride him harder. Maybe it was the weed, but you can’t get enough.

When the train reaches the next stop, you tug down your dress as much as you can and sit still on his cock. You hide the gun between your bodies.

Your watch dings with a notification–an unsaved number.

how's the 🍆

A shadow eclipses you from behind, and you hear the snap of a picture. Your face goes ice cold.

"Oh you're a reeeeeal bad girl, aren't ya?" The real ghostface says behind you. All the hair on your body stands up, and your heart pounds as you look at the costume in front of you. The lack of gloves, the quality of fabric, the jeans under it. The cock of a stranger twitches inside you and the gun shakes in your hand. "What the fuck," you mutter. You start to get off the man, but the real ghostface slams you back down on him.

"Oh don't stop now, kitty. "

He holds you down on the man's cock. "Lovin’ this Halloween special. sure he is, too. Ain't ya, buddy?"

"What the hell’s goin' on," the man mutters in a regular voice.

You’re about to berate the man for deceiving you. "You let me," then you feel the heavy weight of the gun in your hand and stop short, shame rushing into every blood vessel of your body.

"Better finish what ya started," the real Ghostface says. "A happy customer won't snitch, right brother?"

When you don't move, Ghostface says, "god damnit," then squats down and wraps his arm around you. "Do I have to do everything?" He lifts you up a little, so the man's cock almost falls out, then drops you back down. He lifts you up and down the man's hard cock, and it's horrifically erotic having Ghostface fuck you on another man's dick. The real Ghostface cock is hard against your back.

Ghostface adjusts his grip and grabs a tit as he forces you up and down. The man’s Stab mask tilts down, watching his cock disappear into you again and again. Your lips part, and a moan slips out.

"Oh, you filthy, filthy girl," Ghostface chides.

"Shut up," you snap as Ghostface sheaths the man’s cock with you again.

"Gonna cum for him, pumpkin? Milk his cock?"

No, God no, this random guy can't cum inside you. Your body stiffens and you shake your head no.

"Oh, c'mon, kitty."

"No," you whimper.

Ghostface sighs in exasperation and one of his arms leaves your torso for a moment. Then he points his knife at the man you're riding. "Ten seconds."

Ghostface holds the knife to your throat as he keeps manhandling you on the guy's cock, counting down, "ten," he lifts and lowers you, "nine," stuffing you with the man's cock, "eight," and he's only at "seven," when the man flattens his back and arms against the subway seats and shudders as he lifts his hips into you. Ghostface forces you down, and you cry, "no," drowned out by the man's groan as he cums. You moan at his pulsations. It's sick, disgustingly hot, getting pumped full of this stranger's cum on a subway car with Ghostface holding a knife to your throat. Your spine arches and you begin to convulse, milking the stranger’s cock just like Ghostface told you to.

"Hellll yeahhh." Ghostface gropes your tit. His cock twitches against your back. He addresses the stranger, "She's hot for a serial rapist, right?" as he lets your weight fully down onto the man. He lets you push yourself off the man, and ghostface holds you by your neck so you won't run. As the man's cock flops sloppily onto his open jeans, Ghostface tells him, "now get the fuck outta here." The man in the ghostface mask is still zipping up his pants when Ghostface adds, "this one needs a real big cock." Then Ghostface asks you, "don't ya, pumpkin?" And takes the man's seat.

The train comes to a stop and as the man scurries out of the subway car, he warns other riders not to board the car. He’s removing his mask as the train pulls away, but you don’t get to see him. Ghostface takes the man's seat and hikes up his robe, revealing his pj pants. He takes his cock out and manhandles you onto his lap. You hover. You're not about to hop on his dick, but let’s face it, you’re not gonna put up a fight, either. You're tired. You're confused. You're horny as hell. There must be something in that weed.

Out the window, everyone is staring as the train slowly pulls away.

Ghostface hikes your dress all the way up and stares between your legs with the stranger's cum seeping out of you.

"Look at this mess," he catches the cum with the flat of the knife, cool against your folds. He slowly drags the knife toward himself, then angles it up toward your mound. Then he takes the knife off you. He wraps his hand around your ass and the handle of the knife rests against your skin. “Now sit on daddy’s cock.”

He lifts you onto his cock. He hesitates with his tip notched at your entrance, and you twitch with need. Then he pulls you down, and his thick cock stretches you – a pleasant, easy stretch – as you sink onto him. He's bigger than the cock you just had.

"What's my favorite movie?" He asks, then begins to move you on his cock. He holds you still. You're dying for friction. "Strangers on a train," he answers for you, and you ignore him. "Hitchcock's overrated,” Ghostface says. “Now I've got my *own*.” Great, he took a video, too. This is bad for you, really bad, but all you can think about is the big, hard cock inside you. He's still not moving, and neither are you. Your clit is throbbing. You begin to rock your hips as the train slows down .

Ghostface slaps your ass with his bare hand. "Made for the screen, baby." His hips begin to move under you, finally. You close your eyes, feeling his thick shaft pump in and out of you, sliding with ease through the other man's cum. "Sure can take a cock." He feels so fucking good. Why did he have to kill again? Why can't he just fuck you? God his cock feels good. "Bet ya coulda taken us both," ghostface says and his cock twitches inside you. "Ohh, fuck." The train stops. He puts down his knife and takes the gun from you. "Yeah, this hole could take two, no problem." His crude words are making you throb more. You feel people watching from the train window, and your face is hot, but you can't get enough of this cock. "Maybe that's what this filthy cunt needs. Two cocks." Your walls twitch around him. "Ooohhh, like the sound'a that, don't ya?" You feel an orgasm building in your gut. "Hell yeah, dirty girl."

The train leaves the station again. “Maybe next time I’ll bring a friend.” he brings the gun to your face. He prods your cheek with the muzzle. Then nudges your lips open and you groan in protest.

"Give it a kiss, pumpkin'" You pull your head back and turn your cheek. Your heart is beating out of your chest. Your vision is blurry. Your body is dizzy with pleasure and adrenaline. Ghostface gives up on putting the gun in your mouth. He drags the cool metal down your face, around your neck, to your back, then keeps dragging it down. Then he slouches down in the seat and adjusts your angle on top of him, pulling you tighter against his chest.

His massive, ungloved hand lifts your ass cheeks out of the way and spreads you wide. He brings you upward, letting most of his cock out, then you feel the cool metal at your dripping entrance. He wedges the cold muzzle of the gun into your pussy right alongside his cock. "Yeah, take it, kitty."

You groan as he pulls you down on his cock and the gun. What has he done to you? Why is this so hot? "Yeah, knew ya could take two cocks." To your horror, you find your hips rocking. "Fuck yeah," he growls. The barrel of the gun is cool against the back wall of your cunt, and your hole is squeezing his cock tighter now. He wriggles the gun around in a circular motion against his cock. "Ohh yeah." The train speeds up. "Hold on tight," he warns. He begins to manhandle you on his cock and the gun. You're on the edge. Your asshole tightens and tension swells in your core.

"Fuck," you whisper.

He feels it. "Yeah, that's right." You hold your breath. "Cum for me, pumpkin, or I'll make you into pie." Your climax overtakes you and you wince as you clench around the gun and his cock.

"Goooood giirl," he says with your body jerking around his. "There's daddy's little slut." Wave after wave hits you and your cunt squeezes him and the gun. He holds you tighter against him and lifts you enough to slide the gun out, leaving your exhausted cunt looser around him. “Yeah, plenty’a room for two.” You're still having aftershocks. They're not fading, like another one could build. You reach for your clit. "Needy, needy cunt." You rub yourself and he rocks you on his cock until you cum again.

"Hell yeah," he moans when you clench around him. Then he erupts inside you with a groan. His cock pulses against your walls as his warm spend mixes with the other man's. "Yeahhh." His cum goes on and on. "Fuck, yeahh."

As soon as he's finished coming, he pulls you off his lap. He tucks his cock back in his PJs. The train rolls to a stop.

He pats your lower belly. “Won’t know who's the father," he chides, "but at least ya know who's daddy."

—

Next: EVERY INCH 4

May 2024 update - I have 3 more parts outlined.

-------------------

THANK YOU FOR READING. If you want more parts, reblogs and comments make all the difference.

Now that you know what happens, it's a solid re-read. Especially when reader is degrading him 😭 lmk your thoughts when you come back to reread lol.

if you liked this smut, you could check out raider Joel meanwhile.

Also BTW gasolinerainbowpuddles is responsible for giving me the kink of degradation about unknown paternity starting with the fic liquid gold which is amazing.

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dokjaism · 2 years ago

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#do u ever wake up and feel like. not desire to take care of urself #like. not letting urself die and stuff but. idk not put the effort ig?#like i went to make myself breakfast and. idk i didnt want to so i just ate an apple LOL #thank god i dont live alone just yet bcs im forced to eat but if i did. man #i'd probably order smth or idk lol but #jo.txt

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yandere-romanticaa · 1 month ago

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The lush green garden would always come to life whenever Jing Yuan would step foot into it - the jade like sheen on the leaves would make a person wonder if they had walked inside a man made paradise as the scent of opulent blooms would trail not far behind. The garden was a source of tranquility, a place to come and rest, to seek peace of mind.

Naturally, that was not the case for you.

With a huff and suppressed cough, you tried to push the massive white lion off you, its snow-white fur sticking to your frowning lips as it only pressed itself closer. The massive cat clearly had other things in store for you as it evidently found your frustration amusing, if not downright adorable.

It was no different than its insufferable owner.

"Now now Mimi, play nice." said Jing Yuan with a tut, his voice playful and airy. The man sat across you with his legs lazily crossed against one another, a cup of tea in his hand. Sluggishly, he took a hard sip, eyes closed in complete relaxation as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down in joy.

You wanted nothing more than to smack the pristine red porcelain out of his hand.

"General." you seethed, teeth bared in anger. It was difficult not start acting out of line but in due time, you had learned that the best way to get the man to listen was to be nice. Sure, you probably looked like a raging demon, ready to claw his throat out with your bare hands but those feelings had to be pushed aside. Your smile was crooked and twisted, obviously fake but Jing Yuan didn't seem to care. He acknowledged you with a serene smile as he placed the cup back on the table. From the corner of your eye, you could still make out the pretty white wood used which the table was made of as an assortment of various sweets was spread on it. Cakes, strawberry and lemon tarts, odd candies, fine chocolates and other goodies, all of which served to soothe you, or so Jing Yuan liked to tell himself in a vain hope to win you over.

Just as you were about to speak once more, Mimi had the bright idea of pressing her paw against your stomach, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. The creature seemed to purr in delight as she brought herself even closer to you, shoving even more of her thick hair down your throat as she nuzzled herself deep into your mouth and nose. You spat out an endless sea of fur, saliva sticking to the corner of your lips as an amused Jing Yuan laughed his butt off in the background. Even with your obscured vision thanks to Mimi's head, you could clearly see the general clutching his armored chest, tears almost streaming down his eyes as he laughed his heart out.

It was a shame how pretty he was. The way in which his soft locks would sway back and forth, the few rays of sunlight framing his face just right, making him appear even more handsome than he had any right to be.

You hated how much he made your heart skip a beat, he had no right, not after taking you away so selfishly. If you were to maim his face with a butter knife a little, just a little, would the endless throbbing inside of you cease?

There was no time to even process the thought as Mimi had fully tackled you to the ground now.

As if she could sense your violent thoughts, the lion started to lick your face from top to bottom. She purred and purred, the sound ringing loudly in your ears as you brought your arms towards her head, desperate to make her move. The lion seemed to be made of iron rather than flesh and blood because no matter how hard you tried, she would not be moved.

Gods be good, did Jing Yuan teach his pet to be an outright pest like this?!

You didn't even notice the general had moved and was now next to you. He laid sideways, his cheek pressed up against the palm of his hand as the other arm was outstretched to pet the top of Mimi's head. The fur was soft to the touch as Jing Yuan mumbled praises to the lion but his gaze was locked onto you, golden eyes twinkling with adoration and something just a bit darker.

Despite the current predicament, Jing Yuan was acutely aware that this situation was far from normal. He would toss and turn in the dark of the night, mind twisting with horrible thoughts and selfish ideas, none of which were fitting of someone like him. You had carved your place deep inside Jing Yuan's heart and had wrapped yourself around him like a vine in spring. Sometimes, he would be met with sharp thorns, wounding him horribly. He knew that he had no right to be upset with you but that did not change the fact that a wound was still a wound, blood was still blood.

And you always knew how to cut deep.

This was his punishment, he supposed. The grueling price to pay for keeping you by his side for all of eternity as he would suffer at the thought of knowing that his feelings would never be truly reciprocated. With each rising sun and till the setting orange dusk, Jing Yuan was always seeking ways to worm his way into your heart, to discover a way to make you love him. He was a patient man and his cunning knew no bounds, it was only a matter of time before some progress would start to show... Still, it was never going to be quite like the thing he wanted.

That is precisely why he was enjoying himself so much at this moment. He took the sight in like a man starved and engraved the sight deep within his heart and mind, a rare happy memory of his to keep. Ever the opportunist, Jing Yuan was going to make the most out of this moment.

His own selfishness made him sick to his stomach but his madness called for more. With a tap of his palm, Mimi stopped her little assault and finally gave you a moment to breathe, which you took like a fish to water. Even with your hair disheveled and face sticky with spit and drool, nothing could deter Jing Yuan from admiring you.

He had managed to craft his ideal paradise. He just wondered how much time he had left until it would all come crashing down.

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wonderjanga · 2 months ago

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Small Tokens of Favor

The gods favor Billy Batson. It’s only natural after all. The boy is the Champion of Magic. Though, it isn’t just limited to the Greek pantheon. It stretches to most of them. If there’s a pantheon, at least one God favors him.

Marvel and the Green Lanterns: *playing monopoly*

Guy Gardner: “THIS IS BULLSHIT! HOW DO YOU HAVE ALMOST ALL THE PROPERTIES?!”

Marvel: *shrugs* “Does that matter? Just give me my money, Guy.” *makes grabby hands for the money*

Guy: “No, because you’re obviously cheating!”

Marvel *gasp* “I am not cheating!”

John Stewart: “Guy, just give him the money.”

Guy: “Hell no. And don’t think I don’t know you guys are working together because how do you have a decent amount of properties while me and Hal have like two? And Hal’s in jail!”

John: “We’re not, but even then, why do you care? You and Hal are working together and aren’t even trying to hide it.”

Hal: “We’re working together because we clearly need an edge over this guy.” *juts a thumb at Marvel as he sips some apple juice*

Marvel: “So am I getting my money or…?”

By the way, John and Billy were totally working together. And the reason Billy was rich in this game? A god of prosperity aided him. He made a some offerings to them later in thanks.

Marvel: “Uno.”

JL members: *groans of annoyance*

Flash: “Dude, you’ve won six rounds in a row. Supes is he cheating?”

Supes: “I don’t believe so.”

Flash: “Then how do you keep winning??”

Marvel: *shrugs* “Lady Luck is on my side.”

She was in fact literally on his side. He made sure the thank her profusely since the Clark wagered some of Ma Kent’s leftover cooking. Billy and Mary ate good that night.

Marvel and Supes: *playing just dance and hitting every move perfectly*

Supes: “I keep messing up on the yeahs.”

Marvel: “Huh. Weird.”

It was in fact, not weird to him. Reason being is that he knew a god of dance was tripping Kal up. Oh well, he and Clark bet more of Ma Kent’s cooking on this, he isn’t going to say anything.

#billy batson #shazam #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett comics #fawcett #green lantern #guy gardner #john stewart #hal jordan #the flash #wally west #superman #clark kent

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daisymbin · 2 months ago

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more blackmail material? - choi seungcheol

read pt1 first: look at me!

warnings: none i think?

pairings: choi seungcheol x reader (use of she)

genre: friends to lovers~

wc: 2.2k

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

you wake up to the familiar weight of seungcheol’s hand clutching yours tightly; that being the only part of your body that feels comfy. your back hurts & your legs are numb. you had fallen asleep while sitting on the floor by the bed, holding his hand. you look over to him, his brows furrow slightly as he mumbles something intangible as you tried to escape his grasp, and your heart squeezes at the sight. for a moment, you wonder what he’s dreaming about, his expression so peaceful yet intense.

his hair tousled and his expression adorable. a small smile tugs at your lips as you take in the sight of him, feeling an overwhelming sense of affection.

you gently try to pry his hand on yours, but that was proven difficult when seungcheol unconsciously tightens his hold. after a good 10 minutes of trying, you managed to get him to let go, careful not to wake him, and make your way to the kitchen. the apartment is still, save for the soft sounds of the world outside waking up. as you prepare a light breakfast, your mind races with thoughts of what to say when seungcheol wakes up. would he remember anything? would he regret his words?

your heart races at the thought. just as you’re pouring a glass of apple juice, the soft sound of shuffling interrupts your thoughts. you turn to see seungcheol standing in the doorway, bleary-eyed and slightly disheveled, his hair in all sorts of direction but with a small smile on his face that sends a flutter through your chest.

“morning,” he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

“morning,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light, despite the weight of what’s unsaid hanging in the air.

he rubs his eyes, stepping further into the kitchen. “what time is it?”

“almost 11,” you tell him, watching as he yawns and stretches, the sight somehow both adorable and mesmerizing.

“11?” he echoes, clearly surprised. “how did I sleep so long?”

you chuckle softly, knowing the answer. “you were pretty tired from all that dancing and… other activities last night.”

the blush creeping across his cheeks is immediate, and he glances down at the floor, avoiding your gaze. “did I… say anything embarrassing?”

you hesitate, a wave of uncertainty & disappointment washing over you. you see the sincerity in his eyes, and despite the urge to tell him the truth, you weren't sure if its something he had meant to let out, or if he even meant it. maybe he was just…drunk? or maybe he'll come to remember it in a few hours? “no, not really,” you reply, a soft smile gracing your lips.

he seems to relax at your words, though a shadow of confusion still lingers in his expression. “thank god. I was worried I made a fool of myself or said something I shouldn't have.”

just then, his phone buzzes loudly on the table, interrupting the moment. he glances at it, his brow furrowing. “it’s jihoon. he wants me to come help with something.”

“now?” you ask, feeling a twinge of disappointment at the thought of losing this moment.

“yeah, I should probably go,” he says, though he seems reluctant to leave. “but I’ll text you later, okay?”

“sure,” you reply, trying to hide your disappointment. “just…be safe. drink lots of water, you need it.”

“i will.” he promises, a soft smile on his lips before he grabs his things and heads out the door.

as soon as he’s gone, you let out a sigh, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. what now? you wonder, glancing at your phone and deciding to take a break from it all. you text seungkwan to see if he wants to grab brunch.

when you meet seungkwan at your favorite café, he immediately senses something is off. “so, what happened after you sent seungcheol home?” he asks, leaning in, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “did anything…happen last night? did you guys talk it out this morning?”

you shake your head, stirring your latte absently with a sigh. “he doesn’t remember anything, he asked if he said anything stupid last night & I just told him no.”

“he doesn’t remember?” seungkwan looks flabbergasted. “are you serious?”

“sadly, yeah.” you reply, feeling a bit defeated. “I thought he would, but I guess not.”

“that’s not good,” seungkwan muttered softly, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “shall we have have some cake? the red velvet from here is really good, i’ll go order one.”

before you can even answer him, seungkwan already got up, he subtly pulls out his phone and steps away. “just a sec, I’ll be right back,” he says, heading towards the counter of the café.

“since when did you like red velvet?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, but he waves you off with a laugh. “oh, you know.. just the one they have here is good so….” he replies. you can sense he’s hiding something but you dont ask

—

jeonghan wastes no time. after receiving a few messages from an exasperated seungkwan, he heads straight to jihoon's place, excitement & mischief pulsing through him. he arrives, knocking briskly on the door until jihoon opens it, looking surprised to see him.

“jeonghan? what’s up?” jihoon asks, stepping aside to let him in.

“where’s seungcheol?” jeonghan demands, scanning the room until he spots him lounging on the couch, looking rather confused.

“he’s right here. what’s going on?” jihoon asks, glancing back and forth between the two of them.

jeonghan strides over to seungcheol, a teasing grin on his face. “shouldn’t you be taking your girlfriend, no, future mrs choi on a date right now? why are you here with jihoon?”

seungcheol blinks, utterly bewildered. “what are you talking about, jeonghan? I don’t-”

“you don’t what?” jeonghan cuts him off, pulling out his phone. “you don’t remember what you did last night? what you said?”

seungcheol’s expression shifts to confusion, and he rubs the back of his neck, trying to recall the events of the night. “what do you mean? did I do or say something embarrassing?”

with a smirk, jeonghan taps on the video he recorded the night before. he hadn't planned on pulling out his stored blackmail material so soon but thank god he recorded it.

as he hits play, seungcheol’s eyes widen, watching himself stand on the table whining about all the other boys you paid attention to instead of him, followed quickly by a tipsy grin plastered on his face as he confesses his undying love for you.

“what..what is this?” he exclaims, staring at the screen, the realization dawning on him.

“you confessing, you idiot,” jeonghan says, barely holding back laughter. “you were all mushy and everything!”

jihoon, who had been completely unaware of the events from the night before having stayed home, watches the video together, mouth agape. “wait, he really did that?”

“yoon jeonghan did you use A.I to fabricate this or something? there's no way I did that. I wouldn't….” seungcheol tries to push it onto jeonghan, trying to deny reality.

“really? you wouldn't? you think the chances of me using A.I is higher than you drunkardly confessing whilst standing on a table in a club?” jeonghan asked as he tried to hold back his laugher.

jihoon steps closer as he says, “honestly the A.I sounds more believable, you pull stupid pranks all the time, i wouldnt be surprised, but then again….if it's really A.I and it isn't real then thats kinda… nah. yoon jeonghan wouldnt joke about something like this. yup, looks real to me.” jihoon finishes as he pats seungcheol on his back.

jeonghan, seeing as seungcheol still doesn't believe him, pulls out his messaging app, opening his chat with seungkwan, “it's not A.I you idiots, who do you think i am? i love a good prank but this A.I shit is too much work, i dont have enough energy for that. here.” jeonghan then slides his phone over to seungcheol, messages from seungkwan earlier in its full glory.

roommate boo 🍊:

[12:17 PM] I can't believe that idiot can't remember what he did last night!!! hyung, do something!!!

[12:19 PM] I thought he lost his mind when he stood on that table crying over her last night BUT NO, NOW he's lost his mind! i thought some sense finally went into that head of his, how can he forget???

[12:22 PM] hyung!! do something! this isn't right and it's not fair to her! she looks so sad!!!!! show him that video you recorded last night!!!! 😡

“yup,” jeonghan says, enjoying seungcheol's mortification. “and now you can’t just let it slide. you need to talk to her and make this right. tell me, was she still in your apartment this morning?” he asked as he folded his arms. at a small nod of seungcheol’s head, jeonghan continued “that silly girl. I texted her to come down after putting you to bed, i even offered to send her home but she was worried about you and said she'd stay. how could you forget?”

seungcheol feels a rush of embarrassment & guilt flood through him as he stares at the screen which now shows jeonghan's text from you. “I can’t believe I did that,” he groans, burying his face in his hands. “and I can't believe I forgot…did she..does she-”

“does she like you?” jeonghan finishes for him, “you're such an idiot. for someone who claims to be looking at the love of their life all the time, you sure are blind for not seeing how she looks at you just as much.” jeonghan says with a satisfied smile on his face. “you owe her a real date after that confession.”

“and an apology.” jihoon added.

“i thought she’d tell me if i’d done something like that, but she didn’t. maybe she’s just… sparing me from rejection.”

jeonghan scoffed. “please, she looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky last night. she’s probably overthinking, just like you are.”

seungcheol lets out a sigh he didnt know he was holding, his resolve building as he processes everything. “I need to find her.” jihoon could only smirking at his friend’s flustered state.

—

after brainstorming with jeonghan and jihoon, seungcheol decided on a plan. he’d cook your favorite, miyeok guk (yall remember cooks coups? lmao) it wasn’t just for birthdays, after all, and he knew you'd appreciate the thought. jeonghan offered to help, though he teased relentlessly about how much was riding on this meal.

it was almost doomed when seungcheol managed to burn the soup, the kitchen filling with a slightly charred smell as he looked on in horror. jeonghan swooped in, shaking his head with an exasperated grin. “good thing i’m here,” he muttered, salvaging the meal with a few choice spices and a lot of patience.

once the miyeok guk was safely simmering, seungcheol added a few finishing touches around his apartment: candles with her favorite scent, a small bouquet of her favorite flowers, and warm lighting that made the whole room feel like a cozy haven.

finally, he texted you, saying he needed help with something. you arrived, clueless, expecting a favor and absolutely not prepared for the sight of him standing there, nerves showing slightly as he shifted from foot to foot.

before you could ask, he cleared his throat. “so… about last night…”

you froze, realizing he might remember. “last night?”

he gave a small, uncertain smile, looking at you with a soft intensity. “i know you didn’t say anything, but… jeonghan showed me the video. i just… i thought maybe you didn’t tell me because… maybe you don’t feel the same, and you were trying to save me from that.”

you stared at him, heart racing. “no, i… i thought you might regret it,” you admitted softly, glancing down. “i didn’t want to bring it up if… if it was something you didn’t mean.”

seungcheol stepped closer, reaching out to gently lift your chin so you’d meet his gaze. “i meant every word,” he murmured. “and this time, i want to say it sober; knowing exactly what i’m saying. i like you… so much. and if you’ll let me, i’d like to take you on a real date.”

a smile spread across your face as you let his words sink in. “then… i’d like that, too,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper.

the uncertainty melted from his expression, replaced by a soft warmth. reaching out, he took your hand in his, holding it as if it were something precious. he chuckled softly, still a little shy. “so, um… how about some miyeok guk? i might’ve had a bit of help from jeonghan, but it’s your favorite.” he refused to let you know about how he had actually burnt it & jeonghan had salvaged it. but little did he know, jeonghan had been recording his friend again when he was panicking & making a mess of the kitchen while whining, more blackmail material perhaps?

“i’d love that,” you replied, heart swelling at the gesture.

as you both sat down, laughing together over the slightly imperfect soup, you felt a contentment settle in, the kind that only came from being exactly where you were meant to be, with exactly the person you were meant to be with.

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cursedyuri · 3 months ago

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a soft n smutty piece for fall coziness… <3 the changing seasons always make me feel melancholic and i feel like ellie would take care of r if she was the same :)

tw: depression, nsfw, 18+ only

the sun filters into your bedroom through the half-drawn curtains, a warm glow that paints everything golden. you stretch out under the covers, hand reaching for sunlight, palm open against the blankets as warmth envelops your fingers. numb with cold, you defrost.

even as your hand soaks in the warmth of the sun, guilt twists inside you, ice cold. the phone in the kitchen has rung out three separate calls today, shrill and blaring in the silence of your apartment; you've melted too deep into the mattress to answer. the kitchen may as well be miles away.

she’s probably worried, you fret. what if she thinks i’m dead? i need to call her back.

but as much as you want to force yourself to leave the comfort of your duvet, the you-shaped crater in the bed, you can’t do it. you just can’t.

you’re not surprised when you hear the sounds of your girlfriend’s arrival, ellie’s key scraping the lock before she swings the door open. you’d given her your spare key months ago. she’d only used it on days like this.

you hear the rustle of plastic, the harried zips and thumps of ellie removing her boots at the front door. and then she’s appearing in your doorway, her face twisted with worry; brows drawn together, lips turned downward. she looks heartbroken.

“baby,” she says, voice tinged with a cocktail of equal parts relief and concern, “god, i thought you were—”

“dead?” you interject. your voice softens when you add, “i’m okay, el. i’m sorry i didn’t pick up the phone.”

“no, it’s okay, don’t worry.” she pads over the worn carpet, plastic bag crinkling at her side as she approaches you on the bed. “i brought breakfast.”

she holds up the bag for emphasis; you can see three to-go boxes inside. the smell of hash browns and scrambled eggs and pancakes wafts out towards you, and you hate the way it makes your mouth water. she knows breakfast is your favorite. you can hardly resist it, even this late in the day, as the sun sets outside your window.

“thank you.” you smile up at her. it’s forced—it doesn’t meet your eyes. she notices, because she always does.

“you don’t have to eat right now,” she clarifies. hazel eyes swoop over the bed, appraising the blankets splayed out over you in disarray, and she hesitates. you hold out your hand for her in encouragement. “come here, ellie.”

so she does. she sets the bag of breakfast food on the nightstand, then climbs over you with a clumsiness that seeps through her caution. you smile. genuinely. and then she’s kissing you, soft lips pressed to yours as her auburn locks tickle your cheeks. the kiss is gentle and languid, slow and soft and encouraging. she tastes like home, and you realize you’ve been aching for this feeling all day, body numb in the confines of your bedroom. you lose yourself in her kiss, sighing deep through your nose. her tongue is warm and wet against your lower lip; she works your mouth open and licks into you, sending heat rushing to your belly where it pools like molten gold.

you’ve found yourself in a haze lately: a fog so thick that it blurs out all feeling, leaving you spent in the silence of your apartment even after days of doing nothing. days of just thinking.

but ellie breaks through the fog as her hands cup your face, thumbs brushing soothingly over the apples of your cheeks. her tongue slides deliciously over yours and you moan without thinking. she freezes for just a moment. she draws back and you nearly whine, eyes barely opening to peer up into his.

“we don’t have to do anything,” she assures you as she leans forward to kiss the bridge of your nose. “not if you’re feeling down.”

your heart swells with affection for her: her disheveled hair, her soft gaze, her flushed lips swollen from kissing. her consideration for you. her love.

“but i want to,” you breathe. “i want it, ellie.”

so she disappears into the crook of your neck, the warmth of her mouth sending a shiver rocking through you as she presses kisses to your sensitive skin. each kiss gets more heated, her lips parting to suckle on the flesh right over your pulse. you moan and she pauses before murmuring against your throat, “are you sure?”

you nod almost frantically. “i’m sure, i’m sure.”

it doesn’t take long for her to undress you, which you’re grateful for. she works your shirt off and rolls your panties down your thighs, her hands smoothing back up over the supple skin.

on days like this, when you’re hardly afloat in the tidal wave of your melancholy, she tends to hold you with gentle wariness, as if you’d shatter if she moved too quickly. and you love it. the obvious adoration in her gentleness, in the need to take things slow.

but you decide you don’t want that today.

when her face is within reach again, you pull her in for a heated kiss. it quickly evolves into all tongue and spit and teeth, your lips smacking audibly as you trail your hands down her sides. you grip the soft cotton of her shirt and slowly pull it upwards, exposing inch by inch of pale, freckled skin, and when your fingers brush over her ribs, you feel the slow shudder that afflicts her. her body responding so instantly to your touch makes you dizzy with arousal; that pool of heat in your stomach grows ever-larger. it doesn’t help that she’s touching you too, the calloused pads of her fingers delicious against your skin. she grips and squeezes you in all the right places, drawing sharp breaths and high moans from your throat as her hands explore every inch of you.

suddenly, it’s hard to remember what came before this. the haze that had lingered over you for days. all you can think about is the feeling of ellie’s body against yours, her jeans scratchy as she rocks her hips down to yours. you hook your legs around her waist, bare cunt desperate for friction, even through a layer of denim.

you pull back from rushed, sloppy kisses to gasp at the sensation—you shamelessly rub yourself against her through her jeans, unable to find it in you to worry about the mess you’re making. ellie watches you in awe, your eyes half-lidded as your hips roll upward, your pretty lips parted in a delicate “o” shape.

“fuck it,” she rasps, and she’s lurching back to sit up on her heels, ripping her clothes off in a blur of fabric. her shirt falls off first, and then she works her way out of her jeans, so eager she stumbles a few times. you beam at her, eyes clouded with lust, and when she finds her way back between your legs, the feeling of her bare skin against yours has you gushing impossibly wetter. you find yourself in the same position as before, only now without the barrier of ellie’s clothes between you. you grind yourself up against her, twitching and gasping each time her pelvis glides over your clit; you can feel how wet you are, how messy you’re leaving her. and she can feel it, too, evident each time she moves her hips against yours and moans with her head tucked against your shoulder.

your impatience is a balloon that’s been filled and filled and filled, and it finally pops. you reach between your writhing bodies to ellie’s cunt; her teeth close around your shoulder when you give her clit a few slow strokes, fingertips pressing hard into the bundle of nerves. she soothes her bite with her tongue and then laughs under her breath, uttering lowly, “i’m sorry, fuck, just feels good.”

you hum in response, pausing to reach into the nightstand drawer, where you keep a harness and strap for situations like this. she draws in a shaky breath, turning her head to kiss your neck again, tongue circling your skin before she pulls back to slip into the harness. then she’s back on you, pulling you in for another heated kiss as she drags the tip of the strap through your folds and up to the bud of your clit. you’re soaked everywhere, and her cock feels so smooth as it glides effortlessly over you; you’re barely breathing.

ellie’s voice is in your ear, quiet but thick with lust. “let me eat you out first.”

and it sounds amazing, it really does. any other time, you’d relent, let her mouth at your cunt for hours until you’re so fucked-out you can’t think straight. but that’s not what you need right now.

“i need you inside me,” you tell her, voice low and sultry, almost unrecognizable from its usual timbre. ellie hears it, too, the husk in your tone making her grit her teeth with a low, gravelly moan. “shit, baby—can’t say no to that.”

she slides into you so easily, your cunt opening smoothly around her as she pushes in to the hilt. you both sigh in pleasure, you at the feeling of being so deliciously full, her at the satisfaction of watching your expression dissolve into pure bliss.

“so fuckin’ wet, goddamn,” ellie murmurs. she draws back only to fuck into you again, and you whine when she brushes up against the end of you. the spot that only she can find. that only spurs her on—she starts fucking you in earnest without much buildup, too pent up to be patient and slow and intentional. she knows what you want, you realize, flooded with arousal as her hips slam into yours. her strap drags perfectly through you, so deep you see stars behind fluttering eyelids.

“ellie,” you moan, brows pinched together, mouth hanging open.

she doesn’t slow down, skin smacking against skin as she fucks herself into you. “what do you need, baby? i’ll give it to you. i’ll give you anything.”

another moan tears out of your throat at her words, your arms moving up to snake around her neck and reel her in for another sloppy kiss. “more,” you gasp, your foreheads pressed together, slick with sweat. “more, please, more.”

ellie gives you one last, searing kiss, then pulls back to readjust. she stills inside you while she grabs hold of your legs, palms squeezing the doughy flesh of your thighs before she pushes them toward your chest. your knees are up by your shoulders like this, and you reach your hands around to support yourself, though your own touch can’t rival her. “good girl,” she praises when she notices what you’re doing, allowing your hands to replace her. she instead brings her attention to your hips, holding them still while she pulls almost all the way out and fucks back into you. and it’s rougher, now, more intentional. ellie moves faster, harder; you cry out a blissful oh my god, tears burning in your eyes from the sheer pleasure of it.

this is it—this is what you needed. and ellie gives it to you exactly how you want it, her body smacking against your ass and the backs of your thighs, her cock hitting that sweet spot within you so rhythmically that you find your brain is entirely empty. the ceaseless noise in your head has quieted, in its place is sheer pleasure.

your release sneaks up on you; you’re not thinking straight, overwhelmed with lust and the warmth it floods through your veins. you come suddenly but with so much force it nearly knocks the wind out of you. squirming and shaking under ellie’s towering form, your cunt spasms around the silicon cock and she groans out in delight.

spent, ellie lowers her weight on you, still careful not to crush you beneath her. you’re both catching your breath, but she can’t drive away the urge to kiss you. slower, this time. more loving.

“hey,” she says, “i love you.”

you smile against her lips, giving her another few pecks before you tell her, “i love you too.”

her arms are warm, lithe, and strong around you, holding you as close as she can. but when you start to wiggle underneath her, she groans in disapproval.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i just—i really wanna eat some pancakes.”

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