#the best part of getting older is not giving a fuck anymore

[sapphire-weapon]

Hi, I just wanna share that I ship Ashley and Leon since the original RE, and I ship them even more now more than ever. I just wanted to say that I’m glad that I saw your blog. You defend them from hate comments. I could never do that. All I do is hide the fact that I ship them because people online (and IRL) can really be mean when I say that they have a good potential together.

I just think that their relationship can be wholesome and built on trust. It is without ill intention and born out of care & adoration. Which I think are the some of the foundations of having a healthy relationship, that’s why I love the idea of them together. I know this may be cliche to say this, but I think they can complete each other in some ways.

Is it wrong to want a potentially healthy relationship for Leon? I don’t get why people hate on the idea of it so much. I mean people can not ship it, and that’s fine. I just don’t get it when others start attacking because I mention that I ship them. It’s like I feel like I’m about to get executed whenever I say that they have a chemistry together 😆

Also, I apologize for talking so much about them. I just have no one to talk to when it comes to them. I just wanna share it to someone.

Lastly, I wanna say that you make deep analysis on not just their relationship and dynamics, but also on other lores on the RE franchise which I enjoy reading. It really gives a lot of new perspectives & insights on a lot of things that I don’t notice when I play the game. Thank you for this, really!

aw, anon

I also went through a period of very many years where I wouldn't say out loud that I shipped Leon and Ashley, because there was a stretch of a very long time in fandom where you got tarred and feathered if you dared have a Leon ship that wasn't Cleon or Aeon. Even shipping him with Chris was considered taboo back in the day (and, wouldn't you know, I do that, too).

And I was scared that people wouldn't take my (completely unrelated, mind you!!) meta seriously if they knew I shipped Leon/Ashley, so I just kept quiet about it. I even tried to pass it off, for a while, that I had no RE ships at all. It was just easier to say that than be dodgy about it.

It was actually kind of funny. For a while, a not-insignificant portion of the fandom went to me, specifically, for all of their Leon things, and I just had to kind of laugh at how ridiculous it was that these same people would've just stopped agreeing with anything I said about him -- things that they agreed with and had been relying on for their own interpretations -- if they'd known I shipped him with Ashley. It's all very, very stupid.

But now I'm in my 30s and I don't give a fucking shit anymore. I don't care about being an authority on canon anymore. I'm happy to be a reference if someone needs it, but I don't care about being the central hub of information. I don't need to try to make people feel impartially about me anymore.

But, authority or not, I'm still a story analyst at heart before anything else. I look at Leon's character first and then think about any possible ships second. And, yeah. After analyzing him for so long, I've noticed that Ashley brings out a side of him that isn't shown at any other point -- and it's in a positive way that's absent when she's gone. So, naturally and logically, in my head, it stands to reason that there's something to that.

Some people seem to be under the impression that Leon's character arc lives and dies by Ada's involvement, and boy is that just not the case. There's a lot of different moving parts when it comes to Leon's character arc, but he's primarily defined by the striking lack of agency he has, despite being one of the main characters of the series. Ada perpetuates and exacerbates that helplessness, but it would still exist without her. In Leon's own words: "nothing ever changes" and THAT is what's at the center of his character arc.

But even beyond that, Leon is a character who needs to be needed; it's something that's shown over and over and over and over again. So, as much as people like the idea of a "partners" type ship (like Chris/Jill) and so they ship him with Claire -- or as much as people like the whole cat-and-mouse will-they-won't-they thing that Leon has going on with Ada -- neither Claire nor Ada need Leon, so it would never really work in the long-term.

And as much as Leon doesn't want Ashley to need him... he still needs her to. Because he doesn't realize that Ashley can both need him emotionally because that's what romance is you fucking stupid idiot, Leon -- and also be her own independent person living her life to the fullest at the same time.

And you know what? I like queen/knight ships, and that's exactly what Leon and Ashley are. So I just embrace it.

This isn't to discount other people's tastes or ship preferences. Ship whatever the hell yall want. But Leon/Ashley has always existed, will always exist, and it's just as valid as any other ship. Thankfully, the remake seems to have made it more "acceptable" -- which really just tells me that the only reason why we Leon/Ashley folks were blacklisted for so long is because the vast majority of the fandom was just bad at RE4 and took out their impotent gamer rage on Ashley, as though it was her fault they sucked at the game. (If you got annoyed at Ashley screaming for help in OG -- or in remake, even -- it's because you let her get grabbed. It's player error.)

Just sayin.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 ft Gojo Satoru

— Six years. He’s loved you for six years. He was too young back then but now he’s not. And he plans on showing you that.

᧔♡᧓ Semi Yandere! Gojo x Fem! Reader

᧔♡᧓ Content: age gap (gojo’s 21 n reader is 27), obsessive behavior, smut, pussy eating, porn with some plot, cheating while in talking stage, petnames, praise, breeding, baby trapping, manipulation, gaslighting

᧔♡᧓ A/n: reader always saw gojo as a brother since he was so young, and never really developed feelings for him. it was just lust taking over when they fucked

Six years of friendship with your current best friend. Six years in which her little brother Gojo has had a crush on you. Six years of you only cooing with a giggle as you ruffled his fluffy white head of hair before calling his doting nature cute.

Six years.

Six years that he’s waited for you, becoming more of a man for you. Working out, gaining experience. It was all for you.

You’re twenty seven now, barely any different since the first time he met you. Your soft features still as beautiful as ever and your body just as perfect as he remembered. He’s studied you over the years. Every single time you came over. Studied your patterns, your every move, your likes, your dislikes, he’d even gotten to know your type.

He’d loved you since he was fifteen.

But he’s not a little kid anymore. He’s grown. Twenty one years old. Mature enough to be yours, to take care of you. He deserved you after waiting for so long. And he would show you. Show you that you needed him just as bad, craved him as much as he craved you. He’s the one for you, you just had to open your eyes and see that.

Gojo knows you feel at least a slight bit of attraction towards him. Hell, you’d called him handsome so many times— even though it had been strictly platonic— that you have to had felt something.. right?

On his eighteenth birthday you were there with him, his friends and his sister. He’d even brought a girl, introducing her as his girlfriend to try for a reaction out of you. But you didn’t bat an eye, you were genuinely happy for him. It made his jaw clench, but he was reminded of why he loved you. You were so sweet and caring. A big smile on your face as you embraced him in a hug, giving him the present that you’d been so excited to get. It was something that he had wanted for a while. A part of you saw him and his sister as the siblings you’d never had.

He didn’t need your gift, of course. He had enough money to buy anything he wanted. But it being from you made it special.. so so very special. Especially since you had listened to him. And it was his turn to return the favor. The random expensive gifts never stopped, every time you came over for the next three years it seemed that there was always something wrapped and waiting for you. Somethings just never change, you thought to yourself, piecing together that the boy’s crush had never left.

Then his gifts started getting more and more.. well, whatever you’d consider those matching lace sets that were accompanied a little note that made you swallow hard. Followed up by short dresses and eventually fancy shoes and purses to match. Not to mention the collection of jewelry you’d gotten from him.

Then he was.. less subtle, sending small smirks and winks your way. Finding any excuse just to be next to you or let his hands innocently wander during a hug.

You were not going to tell his sister. You didn’t want there to be any problems between them. You also couldn’t just start coming over less, she was like family to you. So you let his harmless crush continue.

…

Gojo swears luck was on his side, the universe wanting to make things easier for him. You had a boyfriend, a guy you worked with who was a good five years older than you. Like he said, you had a type, and he checked out none of these boxes. He knew everything about the dude, and he knew that he was not good enough for you. He tried to warn you, but what did you do? You smiled at what you took as him being worried about your well being.

So when you came knocking on his front door, flinging yourself into his sister’s arms as you cried into her shoulder. He knew. That asshole had broken your heart. He’d deal with it. He’d truly make the guy regret hurting you.

You were at his house all week, falling into the stage of the break up where you sat in your room (with their house so big you were bound to have one if your own) watching tv with a tub of ice cream and a string of adorable laughter. Anything to take your mind off the sting in your chest.

Then you were out. Everywhere. Going to clubs and parties with his sister just as you two did when you were a little younger. It was reckless, what if you got hurt? What is someone tried something? You were a sight for sore eyes after all. He would make sure to never let that happen. It was why he always accompanied you, whether you were aware of it or not. It was no surprise that you were never able to get laid, despite all the ogling eyes set on you.

…

Gojo leaned against the bathroom’s door frame as you emptied your stomach’s contents into the toilet in front of you. Small moans of displeasure filling the room as your body slumped against it. After math of a night full of drinking.

His arms were folded across his chest, muscles bulging through the tight black fabric which was paired with grey sweats which hung lowly on his hips. Gojo chuckled, pushing himself to stand straight before walking over to you. Stooping down to your current height with the shake of his head. “You should know better than this baby.”

Your brows furrowed, opening your mouth to question him before your head was over the bowl once more. Tears welling in your eyes at the massive headache that had sprung to life. “Shh shh shh baby.” He whispered, “let it all out, you’ll feel better soon.” He soothed, pushing stray strands away from your sweaty forehead while stroking softly at your hair. Whispering little words of encouragement as he held you, smiling sadly when the hug caused you to break down in his arms. No doubt reminding you of your recent breakup.

“Here, i brought you some panadol.” He reached for the two pills and the cup of water on the counter. Letting you sit with your back against his chest as he guided them up to your mouth, bringing the cup to your lips right after. “Here, drink it all okay?” You nodded, swallowing down the water along with the pain relievers. Gojo’s lips pressing softly to your head as he continued to stroke your skin.

You’d fallen asleep. And he’d laid you down on his bed instead of yours. Tucking you in and leaving you to rest.

Downstairs he found his sister, an empty cup sat in front of her along with the pill bottle. She’d clearly been hungover too. “Where is she?”

Gojo gave her a knowing look. “She’s sleeping.”

“Where?”

“My room.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing, not liking the way she was watching him. Was she really that selfish over her best friend.

“Satoru.. she’s twenty seven. You need to get over this stupid little crush of yours and go find someone your own age. She doesn’t want you, she never will.”

Gojo seethed, fists already at his side as he stared angrily at his sister. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Satoru come on-“

“No.” His voice was firm, he didn’t look angry anymore, he looked hurt. “Just.. shut up, please.” A part of him knew that maybe he’d just never be enough for you.

…

Making his way back upstairs Gojo had a plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs along with a glass of hot tea. He walked into his room to find your eyes only just fluttering open with the small stretch of your body. Blinking your eyes to adjust to the bright light while taking in your surroundings, realizing immediately where you were, and who was standing at the door.

“Oh.. Satoru, hi.” Your voice was timid, embarrassed to have been seen in your drunken state by the boy.

“Hey, how’s your head? I brought you breakfast.” He set the food down near the bed before taking a seat next to you. Allowing his fingers to play with the fallen hair from your bun.

“T-thanks.” You nodded, shifting to sit up before grabbing a strip of the crispy meat.

He wouldn’t stop staring at you, couldn’t stop staring at you. And you smiled in his direction, “thanks a lot, i should really get back to my room though.”

He shrugged, “or you could just stay, it’s not like we’re doing anything.” He grinned. “Yet.”

You couldn’t help the way your cheeks heated up at that statement. “It’s okay, i think i’ll just-“

“Stay. Come on, don’t be like that. I’ll even put on your favorite.” Reaching for the remote to search for your favorite show. You bit your lip nervously, not understanding how he could act so normal after all the inappropriate gifts and advances.

His smile never faltered as his hand ‘accidentally’ found yours, slipping his fingers into your own. Not allowing you to let go even if you tried.

…

The next few days were.. good. Gojo had assumed that everything was going well. They were going well, until you decided to ruin everything.

Toji Fushiguro.

A forty something year old man with two children. That’s who you were talking to. Gojo didn’t appreciate how hard you making things for him. You were supposed to be his and he was supposed to be yours.

He was tired of waiting for you to come to him, so he went to you. Knocking on your door with vigor and a small scowl. When the door swung open you were mid-laugh, Toji coming into view behind you with a glass of champagne in hand.

“Seriously? You’ve been ignoring us for him? Him?” Gojo accused pointedly, “My sister misses you, she’s been crying. A lot. Says you’re choosing a guy over your friendship.”

His jaw was hard as he fed you lies through his teeth. Watching your eyes widen as you pondered. Were you ignoring your best friend? You’d seen her just earlier today. You guys had hung out, gone for lunch. Talked about who you both liked with big smiles and non stop giggles. It didn’t feel like anything had changed. “I.. I didn’t realize- i’m sorry.” You didn’t know what to say, it made zero sense. But why would he lie?

Gojo silently cheered as you sadly asked Toji to leave. Giving him a small kiss on the cheek and promising to call him tomorrow. He was not very happy about the last part, but at least he was alone with you.

As soon as he left Gojo marched into your apartment. Nearly falling over his two feet when the scent hit him. Your scent, stronger than ever, that sweet strawberry smell that he’d grown to love.

“Satoru, i didn’t-”

He couldn’t help himself, he really couldn’t. “It’s okay I forgive you.” Turning around for his hand to snake to the back of your neck, heart rate speeding up as he crashed his lips onto yours.

You whimpered in surprise, Gojo controlling the kiss as he backed you up against a wall. His lips quickly traveling down to your neck in desperation. “You know, i’ve waited so long. So fucking long. Waited for you. For us. I’ve given you everything, i’ve done everything. But it’s just never enough is it? You’re just too ungrateful huh baby?”

You moaned loudly. “Satoru.. what are you.. hmm.”

“I’m taking what’s mine baby. Taking what i deserve. I’m not a little boy anymore. I’m a man. I can take care of you.” His lips moved with force, sucking harshly at your skin as he kissed down your chest, free hand roaming to your ass with a squeeze. “I’m old enough to be yours. This isn’t just some crush anymore. I fucking love you.”

You could feel your heart pounding as he uttered the words you wished he hadn’t. “Satoru we can’t.. your sister’s my best friend. I’m still older than you.”

“She’ll get over it.” He breathed, making quick work of your tank top that clung deliciously to your tits. “We’re both consenting adults now aren’t we. If you tell me to stop, i’ll stop.”

Your mouth went dry, lips parting to demand him to go but you couldn’t. You didn’t want him too. What was wrong with you?

“So what will it be baby? Stop? Or don’t stop?”

“Don’t stop..” You mumbled in shame, avoiding his eyes as you looked away. Gojo’s fingers dug into your cheeks, forcing you to turn back to face him.

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I said, don’t stop.” You said a little louder, cheeks burning up under his touch.

“Good girl. I knew you were playing hard to get.” He grinned, “You love the chase as much as i do.”

Gojo’s arms hooked under your thighs, lifting you onto him before reattaching your lips. Carrying you to your bedroom to drop you onto the sheets. Lips never leaving yours as you both hurriedly undressed. He was addicted to you, and having you set fire to his veins. This was all he’d ever wanted.

Gojo dropped to his knees before you, kissing lightly at your pussy before enclosing it with his mouth. Tongue lapping you up hungrily as you moaned, fingers finding his hair with a tremble.

“Satoru— feels so good, haah.” You breathed, Gojo burying his face between your legs with a tight grip on your thighs. Allowing your legs to wrap around his neck as he devoured your sopping heat. You were so sweet— just like everything else about you. And he couldn’t help but rut against nothing as more blood rushed to his cock. Finding pleasure in getting to taste you after years of jerking off to the image.

He’s seen your room more than you, always snatching a pair of anything he could find. Just to be able to hold you in any way or form. Feel you on his skin. Touch something that had already touched you.

Gojo pulled away with his face glistening, “Learned how to do this just for you baby. Wanted to be good for our first time.” He smiled lazily, eyes dark with need as he got back to work, sending muffled groans into your bundle of nerves while you mewled loudly. Back arching with the curl of your toes before trying to pull away.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Gojo growled lowly, fingers digging painlessly into your flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, tongue flicking at your clit before his lips closed around it. Sucking and swirling the sensitive bud into his mouth with a satisfied hum. All while you cried out above him, moans getting louder each time you called out his name.

It was like music. The sweetest song ever. Hearing you moan for him, moan out of pleasure, need, lust. Knowing that it was him making you feel so good. He almost came right there, determined to give you the best orgasm of your life with just his tongue. You tugged at his strands, your vision blurred in the nearing of your high.

“Satoru— o-oh fuck Satoru, ‘m gonna cum. Nngh, you’re gonna make me cum.” You moaned noisily, lewd slurps and sloppily kisses filling your ears as he made out with your wet pussy.

Gojo loved how much you were squirming, your legs tightening around his neck as you screamed. You actually screamed. He made you scream. His tongue was awaiting when you began to shake, toes curled and eyes rolled back as you squirted nonstop. The clear liquid gushing onto his face and tongue in long streams.

You whined at the overstimulation when he licked a stripe up your pussy. Collecting every last bit of your sweetness before standing up. You were panting, hard. And Gojo felt accomplished as he smirked. “Has any older man ever made you cum this hard baby?”

Your head was dizzy, trying to bring yourself back down to earth as you blinked up at him with the shake of your head.

He scoffed in pride, “Now try telling me that i’m too young for you now.”

Gojo was quick to lay you flat on the bed and crawl in on top of you. Consequences of your latest activities still fresh on his chin and chest. There were so many positions he wanted to take you in, but first he wanted to see you fall apart under him. See your face contort into one of pure bliss when he started pounding into you.

“You ready for me?” He husked, impressive cock already swiping up and down your slick filled folds. You nodded, looking up at him through your lashes with parted lips. “Ready.”

You both shared a drawn out moan when he nestled his cock past your tight entrance. Feeling him graze your gummy walls before reaching deep within you.

You felt so good, so tight.. warm. And he felt so deep, so big.. perfect.

“This pussy was made for me.” He grunted with a loud groan, slowly speeding up his pace till he was fucking into you with no end. Hips snapping into yours as his cock kissed your spot, prodding at your cervix with every hard thrust. “Fuck- look at how well you’re taking me. Fucking swallowing me all the way in.”

You only moaned in response, teary eyes meeting his sinful ones as he molded you around his cock. Making sure that you knew nothing but the shape of him, the feel of him, when you were done.

Letting out the whiniest cry, your arms reached up around his shoulders, clawing at his skin when you felt your stomach tighten.

You could feel him so deep, the roll of his hips allowing his fat tip to curl up and kiss exactly where you needed it most. The fast pace pulling short screams past your swollen lips.

“Satoru— haah, you’re so deep. I love it s’ much Toru. So m-much— ahh.” You couldn’t think straight, your brain only registering the way he was sliding in and out of you. It was all you could think about in that moment l, the way he felt.

Gojo watched you fall apart, just like he wanted. Your glossy eyes closing as your head fell further into the pillow, unable to control your noises as you got closer and closer.

“You don’t know how hot you look right now. I love seeing you like this. All for me.” His voice cracked, cock twitching in an aching cry to get its release.

“S-satoru, ‘m so close. Gonna cum again.” You choked out, nails piercing into his broad back as your hands roamed down.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess f’ me again hmm? All that denying me, making me feel like our love was one sided. You put me through a lot you know.” He shook his head. “If only you knew the lengths i’d go for you.”

His eyes were crazed, and a shiver raked through your body at his words, whimpering as you succumbed to the building pleasure with a mewl. “O-oh fuckk.”

“Nuh uh, baby. Apologize to me first then you cum.” His tone was firm, serious. He wanted to hear you say it.

“Ahh, ‘m sorry Satoru— ‘m so so sorry. You’re goid enough f’ me. Mature enough. You’re perfect. Please let me cum. I need to cum.” You cried, the man on top of you pretending to ponder your words which went straight to his cock before smiling darkly. “Go ahead baby, cum for me.”

Your body shook as you yelled out his name, your surroundings becoming blank when you began to squirt messily, again. The intense orgasm seeming to stun all of your body’s systems as you failed to come back down. Gojo’s continued thrusts keeping pleasure flowing through your sensitive body.

“I love you so much baby. I always did. It makes me so happy that we can finally be together. Fuckk— ‘m all yours. All yours.” He buried his face in your neck, his own eyes closing shut as his body trembled, stilling inside your warmth before you felt his cum pumping into you in spurts. The thick substance coating your every wall in white.

“And now you’re mine.” He didn’t pull out, staying buried inside you in hopes of you two being connected forever. There was one thing he knew and you forgot. You hadn’t taken your birth control in a while, and a part of him hoped that you had seen this coming. That you wanted it. But one thing remained true either way, he was never letting you go.

[intromortal]

OLDER!ENHYPEN OT6 HEADCANONS PART 2.

part 1

⚠︎ nsfw, mdni. daddy/sir/master kink, age gaps (every party in this is an ADULT, no minors involved) intoxicated sex for hee's, semi public sex for hee's and won's, pregnancy sex and stepcest for jay's, jake is a little shit, corruption kink for hoon's, public sex for sunoo's, jungwon as an entire warning for sunoo's, teacher/student dynamics for jungwon's.

i strongly advise you read part 1 before this as i'm not sure the dynamics are clear enough without previous context !

a!n i missed older enha sm i just had to give this a pt 2 <3 gen so sorry for not having posted anything in like. forever but life has been beating my ass and while brain is braining, fingertips are not writing ughhh. hopefully i get out of this slump :] as always feedback is much appreciated! enjoy <3

HEESEUNG | ‘s chest was caging you, pressing your front against the cold bathroom wall of the definitely too pricey bar your date for the night had insisted on bringing you to, and you’d be laughing at how fate works in such unexpected ways if it weren’t for how sloppily heeseung’s mouth was running down your neck. warm tongue tracing every little sensitive spot and teeth grazing your skin.

“that little boy out there? he will never make you cum as good as i do,” he whispered as he slightly pulled back, breath hot from the alcohol raising goosebumps all over your body. you were very, very annoyed with him though, after the months of radio silence on his part that followed that one night in your room. and you made it clear with how you pressed your ass against his crotch, the gasp leaving his lips making yours turn upwards in return. had you known all it took to break lee heeseung was showing up to the bar he and his coworkers frequented with another man’s arm secured around your waist, you would’ve done that ages ago.

“well, he definitely made me cum way more in the last m—” you don’t even get the chance to finish your sentence, one of his rough hands flying up to your neck to squeeze it just enough to make the words die in your throat. his other hand grabbed his cock and teased the tip of it against your folds, the fabric of your panties so drenched with your juices they stuck perfectly to your fluttering pussy, and he could feel it all.

“oh yeah? how many? so smug and for what? he must have not done a good job then because here you are, dripping for me and i haven’t even done anything.” he let his cock rest underneath your heat, slowly moving his hips to tease you as he bunched your skirt up to get a clear view. all the patience and control he thought he had was already wavering, but it flew out of the window right then. like all the months of self-restraint, the guilt he felt towards your dad, even when he was fucking his fist alone at night on facebook family pics his best friend would post every so often, bringing his deepest desires out on the surface all over again. it all meant nothing when he finally pushed your panties out of the way, unashamed of the amount of precum mixing with your juices, as he bit down on your ear before letting his tip slide into your heat. “but i have all the time i want to match whatever number it is, angel.”

JAY | who had to watch you walk around with your boyfriend, his stupid face always so bright ever since you gave him the news that you’re pregnant. stupid fucking idiot who thinks he’s the dad. but of course, jay knew better. there was no way that child growing in your belly wasn't his, not after making sure to cum inside you time and time again whenever he had the chance, until his body physically couldn’t cum anymore. he hated your boyfriend and he hated to know you let his dirty hands on your body. he hated that he couldn't claim you publicly, letting everyone know you’re his. so all he had, to keep whatever little shred of sanity left in him, was knowing that your child is a product of your love.

and when his head nuzzled in your hair as he breathed in the sweet scent of your shampoo while pumping his cock carefully in and out of your wet cunt, he asked time and time again if you knew it’s his offspring you're carrying, if you were doing all this on purpose to make him hurt.

“but of course you know—how could you not,” he said in open mouthed kisses against your neck, his hands sliding away from your thighs to swipe soothing figures with his thumb into the skin of your swollen belly. how could it be so wrong? even if he’s your step dad, even if he recently married your mother? his love for you couldn’t be wrong, because then why did it feel so right? something so beautiful and pure just has to be right, he thought to himself. his hands wandered to your tits full of milk, playing gently with your hypersensitive nipples, careful not to hurt you. “shhhh little girl, it’s okay, i’ve got you,” he murmured along the skin of your shoulder as he kept rubbing his fingers all over your tits, the little droplets of milk only helping his digits to move smoothly. you sounded so pretty mewling like that for him, looked so pretty squirming in his strong hold, your back arched as you started to fuck yourself back on jay’s cock. “what a good little girl… helping daddy out,” he moaned in your ear before bringing one of his fingers to his mouth and licking it clean, loudly groaning at the taste of your milk. “so fucking sweet baby, fuck… you always make daddy so proud.”

JAKE | truly didn't mean for this to happen, but it was happening anyway so you two should just make the best of it, at least that’s what you hoped he thought. you though? fuck, you felt so embarrassed. leaving your cheating boyfriend for his dad was one thing. but knowing he was listening in to you two fucking? that’s next level. jake didn’t seem particularly fazed by it, actually maybe a little… excited about it?

you’d swear he’s been pounding you into the matress even rougher than he was before, since he heard the front door slam, signifying his son was back home when he shouldn't have been. you were always so careful with making sure you only went over when your ex boyfriend wasn't there, or maybe jake had done that on purpose? lied to you… but he would never, would he? he’d always been so sweet and caring, truly the best man you’ve ever had. and honestly even if he did plan for this, you were not coherent enough to realize, at least not while he held your head down on the mattress with his huge veiny hand, the other roughly holding onto your hip as he unapologetically pounded into you, making the headboard of the bed slam repeatedly into the wall. the exact wall against where you knew your ex boyfriend’s desk is placed. jake was usually so soft, always putting your pleasure above his, what had gotten into him?

you could barely think as you moved your head to the side to be able to breathe, the relief short lived because soon after he grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail and yanked you up against his chest, his hips never faltering as your face started to feel even hotter. you couldn't tell if it was the humiliation or the pleasure, or maybe both.

“stop fucking holding back,” his tone was almost mean, so uncharacteristically him, and it brought tears to your eyes, but also made your messy cunt leak even more. you didn't want to be heard, but jake was making it one hell of a challenge to keep quiet, especially when he let go of your hip and brought his hand to rub harsh circles on your clit.

“please sir… slower,” you bit down your moans, pleading through gritted teeth. and jake was not happy about it. the sting on your clit was sudden, your body jerking in his hold as you slowly realized he’d just slapped your clit.

“no,” his voice left no room for backtalk, as he hit your bundle of nerves one second time. “you will let him hear how much better i fuck you.”

SUNGHOON | was the first man you allowed to touch you. he was obsessed with you from the moment you shyly walked up to him to introduce yourself when you first met him, pretty large eyes looking up at him with a glint he couldn't quite decipher at first. he slowly learned it was submission. from day one, you’d been nothing but obedient, always looking for praise, always trying your best to make him a proud instructor. and you just always looked up to him with such innocence… it felt wrong, how hard it made his cock.

so when he finally had you for the first time, he had to try his best not to cum right then and there, when you told him you’d never been with anyone like this. you couldn't even look at him as you confessed it, poor little thing. no one had ever pushed past your folds inside your tight fluttering hole, you’d never had anything push between your lips, never had anyone taste you. he was obsessed with that thought. he’d get to be your first everything, and that made his cock twitch in his pants.

“it’s okay baby… i will make it feel so good…” he said as he captured your lips in a kiss once again, so soft and careful as if he might break you. the kiss was deliberately slow and sensual, he wanted to just bask in the moment, afraid it might end too soon, his hands roaming around your body and pulling you flush against him, his length rubbing against your body. you gasped at the contact, breaking away suddenly, surprised at how he chased your lips again right away.

“wan’... wanna make you feel good…”

he could tell you were holding something back, too shy to initiate it, so he helped you out. “who is it pretty girl mh? who do you want to satisfy?” he watched you carefully, cradling your head with his hand, and nearly groaning when your nuzzled into his palm right away, just like a little kitty.

“wanna make daddy feel good… don’t know how to,” you stuttered out, hiding your face in his hand, too embarrassed to keep eye contact. he doesn't know where he found the self control to not turn you against the lockers in the changing room and take you right then and there, but somehow, he did. instead dropping to his knees in front of you and sniffing your cunt right through your workout leggings, mouth salivating instantly. he mouthed at your core, basking in your cute whimpers, before he finally slid the thick fabric down along with your panties, enough to reveal your puffy little pussy. he grabbed your thighs, bringing you over his mouth completely, admiring her from so close. “another time sweet girl… let daddy take care of this needy little thing first.”

SUNOO | loved showing you off to everyone. to his employees, to his friends, to his collaborators and most of all, to his competition. especially when said competition has… history with you.

he always made you wear nothing under your skirt, granting him easier access during the night. at that point, you had started to get used to all the weird looks and whispers you got when, like clockwork, his hand slid between your thighs under the table to toy with your pussy. not like they ever said anything anyway, sunoo was just too powerful and important for them to. regardless of how fucking weird he is.

this time though, it’s different. the guest for the night was none other than yang jungwon, one of sunoo’s top competitors, and well… probably your most infamous old fling. and sunoo was fucking loving it. for the special occasion, he’d encouraged you time and time again during the night to sneak your hand in his pants. and so you do; what sunoo wanted, sunoo got. that was the rule.

the air was charged with tension despite the almost laid-back look of it all: sunoo laying back against his chair like absolutely nothing was going on, and jungwon seemingly uncaring for what was actually going on, if not a little humored by it. and they were just making casual conversation at that. “heeseung… haven’t heard that name in a long time,” jungwon pondered, reaching for his wine glass.

“yeah… last time i met him he— fuck yeah puppy, just like that.”

your hand froze on sunoo’s cock, noting the twitch in his length. he always loved putting you in embarrassing situations, got off on it. your eyes widened like a deer caught in the headlights as you looked at jungwon, your foot nervously tapping on the floor when he stopped mid sip. he looked between the two of you, eyebrow quirking slightly before downing the rest of the wine in one swing. “puppy, huh?”

you wanted to hide somewhere, anywhere. let the ground engulf you and never let you escape. but sunoo pinched your thigh, and you knew it meant he wanted you to keep milking his cock with your fist, so you did.

“a very obedient one,” sunoo snickered, and you hated how it made you clamp your thighs together in search of some friction.

“she knows how to use her hands, but her head is even better,” jungwon commented, clearly amused by the situation.

“agree, had to train her to take it though.” they were talking about you, in front of you, completely ignoring the fact that you were there to hear it. and for some sick reason it turned you on. you glanced back at sunoo with a questioning look on your features, and he pet your head a few times, the usual glint in his eyes telling you to keep going, or he’d have to teach you a lesson when you two eventually left the restaurant. and one thing about sunoo, you never wanted to push him to do that.

JUNGWON | prided himself in being a calm and collected man, always level headed. that completely flies out of the window when it comes to you. but could you blame him? when he sees how all your coursemates tried to get paired up with you, found any excuse to talk to you? he knew they just wanted to get in your pants, he saw it in how they watched you, how their eyes roamed all over your body whrn you were not looking their way. he saw it in their eyes too, and he fucking hated it.

he knew it was not your fault, but he couldn't take it out on them. after all, what you two have was a secret. so instead, he took it out on you. called for you to stay back so you two could talk after class was over and everyone was already leaving, you happily walking towards him without a know in the world of the storm raging inside him. you caught up soon though, when you noticed how hard his jaw was clenched and how his knuckles were turning white from the strong grip he had on the crumpled papers.

he hastily took off his tie, securing it around your wrists so your arms were bound together behind your back. you were so confused as he made you get on his desk, looking back at him to ask what's happened but he didn't even let you get a word out before he pushed you on your knees. your upper body bent forward to rest on the desk because your arms were tied together, unable to support yourself up. your ass was facing him as he stood behind you, pushing your skirt up to reveal your bare cunt. no panties.

this would usually excite him, but in his jealous haze, it only enraged him further. “and you wanna act like you don’t know what the fuck you did?” he spit out, yanking you closer to the edge of his desk. “slutting yourself out like this? when you know how everyone is trying to get a look under your skirt?”

“won, what are you—”

“won?” he landed a harsh slap on your ass, your body jerking forward at the sting.

“sir! sorry sir—”

“yeah you’ll be sorry alright.” he took a seat on his chair, bringing your ass to hover close to his face before diving in and licking a stripe from your clit to your hole, groaning in satisfaction at the taste. “no cumming today, little brat.”

[rubyreduji]

beach boobs babes — kmg

summary: mingyu goes to the beach to cool down, but things only heat up

tags: smut (minors dni!), chubby!big-boobed!reader warnings: sexual content, semi-public sex, spit used as lube, praise, tit fuck, oral (m. rec), cum eating, tit sucking, fingering, one mention of being "too heavy" wc: 1.3k an: this is def inspired by that video of ross lynch at the beach where you can see his dick print ANYWAYS

Part Two

Mingyu wouldn't consider himself a pervert, he may be rethinking that now though.

At the beginning of the day he thought that a beach day would be the perfect way to cool down from the scouring heat of the Korean summers, but now that he's actually here he feels nothing but heat creeping up the back of his neck, covering him in a whole body flush from his cheeks all the way down to his dick.

Ever since he laid eyes on you this morning he's been doing his best to tamper down his growing hard on. It doesn't help that his swim trunks are short and tight and perfectly define his package even when he's not have perverse thoughts.

In his defense, he wasn't expecting for you to show up like that, with everything out on display for his viewing pleasure. Your soft looking stomach and your full round breasts and your thick thighs all wrapped up in a bikini that doesn't do much to stop Mingyu's imagination from wandering away.

Your bikini is cute, a little yellow set with white flowers patterned over it, strings tied together to hold it in place. Mingyu would kill to pull those strings, releasing the knot and subsequently your fat tits.

There's not much that Mingyu wouldn't do to see your full bare body in front of him, served to him like a starving wolf being fed a steak. Mingyu knows he should have shame for his thoughts, but he can't bring himself to care when you look so fucking good.

You're technically Joshua's friend. While you get along well with the others, it's Joshua who you're always hanging around. It makes Mingyu a bit jealous to see the way you're so clingy to the older boy. He's also a bit thankful for it though, because if not then you wouldn't be here now, at the beach with the group.

Mingyu stares intently at the way Joshua squirts sunscreen all over your back. The creamy, white ropes hitting the bare skin of your back. He can't peel his eyes away as Joshua's large hands cover your back, spreading the sunscreen all over and working it into your skin. Mingyu desperately wishes he was in Joshua's place, his hands roaming across your skin, the soft rolls of your back under his palms.

Mingyu knows that everyone can see his hard-on through his swimtrunks but he can't help it. You look so pretty with the sun beaming down on your smiling face. Mingyu can't take it anymore and he quickly heads to the shore, hoping a swim will help him calm down.

It does work for a while, the cold water shocks him a bit and the swimming helps him release some pent up energy, but it quickly all goes to waste when he climbs out and gets another sight of you. You're standing next to Joshua, eating a piece of watermelon and just the idea of you and food gets Mingyu going, but then you take a bite and the juice of the watermelon drips down your chin and falls right onto your chest, sliding further down right into the valley of your breasts. Mingyu groans, his dick stirring at the idea of him pressing his tongue to your skin, lapping up at the sweet juices with your beautiful, full tits squishing either side of his head.

Mingyu realizes he really has to stop staring because you've seemed to notice him and the prominent strain of his swim trunks. Your eyes trail down his figure, lingering on his crotch, before looking up to meet his eyes. Mingyu doesn't give you time to even send him an expression before he's quickly turning and heading to one of the changing huts.

He's not quite sure what the laws are on jacking off in a changing room on a public beach is, but he also can't really put much thought into it when his dick is actually starting to hurt. The only thing his mind can focus on is the image of your soft curves and suffocating in your cleavage.

A deep groan leaves Mingyu's throat when he finally pushes his trunks down, letting his cock pop free. He doesn't waste time spitting in his palm before grabbing his length and starting to pump it. He leans back against the wall as he closes his eyes, fucking his fist and imagining it's your pussy.

He's so lost in thought he nearly misses the sound of the changing room door opening but when he opens his eyes he jumps, trying to cover up his leaking cock. In his haste he must have forgot to lock the door. It takes him a few more seconds to process who exactly is standing in front of him.

You look so innocent, with your big eyes and soft features, staring at Mingyu curiously. It would almost be enough to make Mingyu feel some kind of shame, but then his eyes trail down your figure and his body is flooded with the pains of lust once again. Your swimsuit is just so tiny on you, the strings digging into your flesh, your tummy pudging up over your waistband. He can't even look at your tits without his cock twitching in his hand, just barely hidden from your gaze. They way they spill out of the fabric, pushed together to create the most delicious cleavage that jiggles anytime you move.

"I-I'm sorry!" You exclaim, but you still don't tear your eyes away from Mingyu. "You looked a bit uhm...flushed earlier, so I wanted to check in on you. I can see why now."

Something snaps in Mingyu and he's suddenly removing his hands to let his dick hang free, in full sight for you. "Don't give me that bullshit, baby. I know you saw it. It's kinda hard not to." Mingyu wraps his hand around his cock, yanking at his length a few times. "I mean, look how big it is. All hard just from you."

"F-from me?" You squeak.

"Who else, gorgeous? I mean look at you, in that skimpy ass little bikini, teasing everyone on this damn beach," Mingyu growls.

"I-I didn't-"

"God baby, doesn't matter what you meant to do. Truth is it's taking all of my resolve not to jump you right here." Mingyu's hand speeds up, his cock leaking pre-cum all over his fingers.

"Well then, I should help you, right?" Your words come out slowly and Mingyu swears he has no clue how you can still sound so innocent while implying something so dirty.

Before Mingyu can react you're kneeling down in front of Mingyu, staring up at him. You gently bring your hands up to pull the strings of your bikini top loose, letting the fabric fall off your body and reveal your tits. Now without the support of the fabric they droop down, the weight of them too much to defy gravity. Your areolas are large and round like a target for Mingyu's mouth.

You don't allow Mingyu to put his mouth on you though. Instead you lean foward and push your tits around Mingyu's cock, eveloping his length in the warmth of your large, soft cleavage. Mingyu audibly whines at the feeling and he can't even be embarassed because he's in absolute heaven right now.

You slowly start to move your tits around his cock, and Mingyu nearly cums on you right then when you let your saliva dripple down your chin and onto his tip. The mix of his pre-cum and your spit allows you to glide his cock between your breasts easily, rubbing up against his length in a way that makes Mingyu's head go completely blank.

"F-fuck," Mingyu whines, "you look so good right now baby. My big cock pushed between your fat tits."

Mingyu starts to rut his hips into the valley of your chest, helping you jack him off. Mingyu knows he's not going to last long when you lean down to start suckling on the head of his cock. You suck and kitten lick at it, lapping up all of the pre-cum drooling out of his slit.

"Holy shit, baby, fuck," Mingyu babbles. He knew he needed this, but he completely underestimated how good it would feel. Your skin is warm against his cock and the plump fat of your chest cushions his length nicely.

"C'mon Gyu," you mutter in between lapping at the tip, "cum all over my chest. I know you want to. I see the way you stare at me. Cum on my tits."

With a groan Mingyu's hips stutter and he's painting your chest white with his spunk. Some of it sprays up onto your face and the sight of you cover in his cum is enough to send Mingyu's mind reeling.

Mingyu nearly falls over when you bring your finger to your chest, scooping up the mess and bringing it to your mouth. You suck on your fingers, staring directly at Mingyu as you do. Mingyu's cock twitches despite having just nutted.

You whine and shift a bit where you're kneeling. "Mingyu," you mumble, "I'm so wet now."

Holy shit.

Mingyu quickly moves to sit on the chair in changing hut. You stand and make your way over to him. You look nervous for a second but Mingyu grabs you, pulling you into his lap.

"M-mingyu! I'm too heavy!"

"Fuck baby, no you're not. You feel so good in my lap," Mingyu mutters, his mouth too busy kissing at your bare skin. His hands roam over your stomach, soaking up every bit of sweet chub he can.

You whimper under his touch, squirming in his lap a bit. Mingyu stares at you intently as he brings his head down, raising one of your boobs to meet his mouth. He wraps his lips around your tit, sucking on it hard. He swirls his tongue around your nipple and relishes in the reaction he gets out of you.

"G-gyu, please," you beg.

Normally Mingyu would respond, "Please what baby?" but he doesn't dare take his mouth off of you. Instead Mingyu lifts you up, turning around so this time he's on his knees while you sit in the chair.

You seem a bit shocked Mingyu could lift you, but you can't focus too much on that when Mingyu's fingers are playing with the strings of your bikini bottom. When Mingyu tugs at it, it comes undone, your bottoms falling against the chair away from your body.

A soft sigh leaves your mouth when Mingyu pushes his fingertips up against your clit. He rubs there for a moment before exploring further. His fingers push your chubby folds apart, revealing your hot, slick cunt. As much as Mingyu wants to drag this out he can't help himself from sinking his fingers into your pussy.

You wrap your arms around Mingyu's head, pushing his face even farther into your chest. Mingyu thinks he could die like this happy, suffocating between your tits, your velvety walls wrapped around his fingers.

Mingyu is completely content to stay like this, but then you start to wiggle your hips and Mingyu realizes you're basically cock warming his fingers. He starts to move his digits in you, brushing up against your walls. When he hits a particularlly soft spot and he hears you gasp, he knows he's hit your sweet spot.

Your jucies are running down his hand as he continues to jut his fingertips up into the same spot, his thumb rubbing at your clit as he does. Up above, his mouth is still working diligently at sucking at your tits, licking and nipping where he can.

"M-ming-gyu," you stutter out, your voice high pitched and tense, "so close. Please."

Finally, Mingyu pops his mouth off of your tits. "Fuck, c'mon baby. Cum for me. I know you can, pretty girl."

His thumb speeds up, pressing against your clit harder. Your hips buck up against his hand before your thighs are clenching and you're shaking. You let out the prettiest mewls as you reach your high, your head thrown back against the wall.

"Good girl, you look so pretty like this. Absolutely stunning," Mingyu tells you, and he means it. He doesn't think he's ever seen something so breath taking before.

When you've calmed down Mingyu slowly pulls his fingers out from you and pops them into his mouth, licking your arousal off of them. You taste even better than you look and Mingyu hopes that eventually he'll have the opprotunity to be squished between your thighs. He's sure it will be just as magical as being squished between your breasts.

Mingyu helps you tie your bikini back on and when the pieces are in place you frown at the marks Mingyu left all over your chest.

"Mingyu!" You whine.

"I'm sorry baby," Mingyu mumbles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "I couldn't help it."

"Yeah, but now I'll have to explain to Joshua why I look like a vaccum attacked me!" You exclaim and Mingyu suddenly remembers you two came to the beach with a group.

Mingyu groans. He's never going to hear the end of the teasing. Oh well, it was totally worth it.

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[cevansbrat0007]

Indecent Exposure Pt. I: Bye Bye, Daddy

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when your father decides to leave you in the care of his four best friends, your fake Uncles, while he's on away on tour for the summer. Read Part Two!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Bucky Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Unwanted Touching, Dad's Best Friend Themes, Older Men/Younger Women Themes, Brief Discussions of Voyeurism, Brief Mentions of Mouth Soaping, Brief Reference to Spanking and Discipline, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Please heed all warnings. Part of my Indecent Exposure Series. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

"But Daaaad.” You whine, drawing out the word as you follow your father into the kitchen. Shoulders slumped, you can’t seem to stop yourself from pouting. 

While you’d initially made peace with the prospect of being left alone for the practically the entire summer before you planned to start your freshman year at NYU, you positively balked at the idea being left in the care of a fucking babysitter. 

Four of them, actually.

“No buts, pumpkin.” Your father drops his carry-on bag next to the door, on top of his other luggage. “It’s not good for you to be stuck in this big old house all by your lonesome. You even said as much just the other week.”

“Yeah, well…” You trail off, pissed at the fact that you’d essentially brought this on yourself. “That was back when you weren’t even sure if you were going.”

At first, your old man had been rather skeptical at going on tour with his former bandmates. They’d had a couple hits back in the day, but nothing major. Even still, they’d somehow managed to amass a bit of a cult following. 

And so when he was offered the opportunity to open for a much larger classic rock band, he just couldn’t pass it up. And you hadn’t had the heart to make him either. Dreams like this seldom came true for anybody, let alone a mild-mannered pharmacist who was pushing fifty. 

“Why can’t you at least take me with you?”

He turns to you then, heaving a sigh before pulling you into his arms. "Life on the road is no place for my little girl. Which is why I’ve asked your Uncles to check-in on you.” He presses a gentle kiss on your mop of curly hair, giving you one last squeeze before releasing you.

“And this is where I’d like to point out that I’m 18 years old, which makes me a full-fledged adult.“ Wrapping your arms around your middle, you try to play it off like you don’t care about him leaving so soon after your birthday. 

But you do. While your birthday had only been last week, you two hadn't even had the chance to embark on your annual fishing trip yet.

“I know that. Of course I know that.” He’s quick to reassure you. “And as a newly minted adult I’m sure you’ll be on your own some nights – the ones when Bucky can’t stay and none of your other uncles are available.”

“Ugh! Can you please stop calling them that?”

Little did he know that you were mere seconds away from covering your ears and letting out a frustrated scream. 

“Well, that’s what they are. They may not be blood, but it still counts.” Your father just shakes his head. Apparently he hadn’t expected you to put up this much of a fight before his departure. “And while it might be true that it’s been a while since you’ve seen your uncles, each one has assured me that they would be more than delighted to keep an eye out for their favorite niece.”

“Dad, I don’t even know them like that! At least not anymore...”

You’re rewarded with yet another weary sigh. “Then it looks like you’ll have the whole summer to get reacquainted with them then, won’t you?” His hands go to grip your shoulders, all but forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Besides, Buck’ll be around. I’m sure he’ll help ease you into everything.”

It’s impossible to stop the derisive snort that escapes the back of your throat. 

“Sweetheart, my ride is going to be here any minute now…” He tells you, making it clear that neither one of you has time for the tantrum you seem so keen on throwing. “You’ve gotta know that I only want what’s best for–”

The two of you are interrupted by the sound of a vehicle pulling into your driveway. And while you don’t recognize it, you’re almost certain that it’s too sleek and expensive to belong to any Lyft driver. 

“Speak of the devil!” Your father suddenly exclaims before throwing open the door and rushing down the steps. Which is fine, except for the part when he decided to drag you along with him. “Bucky fuckin’ Barnes – just in the knick of time too!”

Well, there went Plan A. So much for locking up the house after your Dad was gone and refusing to answer the fucking door for anyone except the pizza delivery guy. 

However, in spite of your annoyance and frustration, you can’t help the tiny jolt of electricity that hums along your skin as you watch the dark haired man peel himself out of the driver’s seat so that he can properly greet you both.  

“Get a look at you, old man!” Bucky chuckles as he enthusiastically brings your Dad in for a hug, lightly thumping his back as he does. “Can’t believe somebody actually fucked up and told you you got to be a rockstar!”

Your uncle’s smile only broadens when he finally lays eyes on you. But it’s the way he’s looking at you that catches your attention – it’s not quite a leer – but his blatant perusal is enough to make you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

“I know!” Comes your Dad’s eager response. “That’s why I’m trying to get out of here before whoever signed off on this sobers up and realizes his mistake.” Both men are grinning from ear to ear when they finally take a step back. 

And that’s when all eyes turn to you. 

“And who’s this gorgeous young lady?” Bucky inquires, his pearly white teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he makes a quiet show of looking you over once again, this time allowing his gaze to linger just a fraction too long on your cutoff denim shorts. 

“Oh, come on now.” Good ol’ Dad reaches over to grab your wrist, pulling you even closer. Which is the absolute last thing you want. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your niece.” 

“Is that my sweet, little Clover?” Bucky pretends to rub exaggeratedly rub his eyes while evoking your childhood nickname. “I guess it is. Except now she’s all grown up.” Your Dad drops your wrist in time for the other man to grab your hand so that he can give you a little twirl. "Just turned 18, in fact."

“I heard. So pretty.” He hums, although the words are spoken just low enough so that only you can hear them. “You’ve got yourself a knockout for a daughter, Dale.” You resist the urge to squirm when you feel the roughened pad of his thumb lightly stroke along the ridges of your knuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you kept a shotgun by the door.” 

While you suspect that his words are meant in jest, the only person that laughs is the man who raised you. 

“I actually keep it in the front closet. Which reminds me…” You father turns to you then, pinning you with a knowing look. “Now pumpkin, I know you're not super excited about the current arrangement and all that, but I’d appreciate it if you’d, uh, refrain from having any boys over at the house while I’m gone.” 

You swiftly open your mouth to protest, only to be surprised when Bucky beats you to the punch. 

“Roger that.” He grins down at you, the dimple in his left cheek on full display. “Your Daddy said no boys allowed, little Clover. Do we have your promise you’re gonna respect his wishes?”

Tugging your hand out his grasp, you turn your attention to your Dad, offering up a sugary sweet smile. “But what about Peter? You actually like him, remember? Besides, he’s pretty much my best friend.”

“Well…”

Because you couldn’t fathom the idea of a summer without him. And you just know he’s going to relent and make an exception. That is, until Bucky decides to go and open up his mouth. 

“You heard your Daddy, sweetheart.” He gently admonishes you, a hint of mockery in his tone. “Besides, I don’t think any of your uncles want to have to deal with strange boys wandering around the house.”

“Good man.” Your father agrees, clapping the other man on his shoulder. “And speaking of Andy, Ari, and Steve, this one here is a little nervous about seeing them again. I don’t know why. I mean it’s been a while since everyone’s gotten together…”

“Aww, bug.” He coos, wrapping a brawny arm around your much smaller waist. “Are you worried we don’t love you anymore?” You find yourself gritting your teeth to keep from elbowing him in the kidney. 

Why the hell did he have to make that sound so…suggestive? And how come your father didn't seem to notice? 

“No.” You grunt, hating the man for having the nerve to smell so damned good – like spiced vanilla and cedar. 

“Because we most certainly do. You know, Andy was just looking at your senior picture the other day.” His large, warm hand settles just above the curve of your hip. “He actually sent it to the group chat and none of us could believe just how much our little Clover had blossomed. Right under our noses.”

“A–awesome.” You mumble, wishing he would stop touching you so much. It did funny things to your belly, which you did not appreciate.

“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it when he gets here.” 

Shock has your mouth falling open, briefly leaving you almost too stunned to make a sound. And to make matters worse, your father’s Lyft picks that very moment to pull up behind Bucky’s sports car. 

“What?” You eventually croak. Not that you receive much of a response, what with both men choosing to abandon you in favor of grabbing luggage and loading it into the driver’s trunk. 

“Alright, pumpkin.” Your Dad calls out once they’ve got everything secured. “I’ll call you from the road. I left instructions on the fridge and with Bucky. You need anything you call me, okay?” 

Seconds later you find yourself pulled into a bear hug. And, because you don’t know when you’ll see him again, you choose not to argue or struggle. You can only hug him back as if your life depends on it. 

“Be good.” He mumbles in your hair. “Listen to your uncles. It may not seem like it, but they know what's best. And you have my word that they care about you just as much as I do.” 

“Okay.” Is all you can muster as you fight back tears. “I–I love you.”

“You know it.” He holds you even tighter. “To the moon and back, plus the galaxy and beyond.” Smiling when he releases you, you watch him climb into the waiting car before giving him one last wave. 

And then he’s gone. You watch unmoving as the car backs out of the driveway and takes off down the road in the direction of the airport. It takes a moment for you to remember that you’re alone now.

Left to your own devices for the entire fucking summer. 

“Save those pretty tears, Clover.” You jump when you feel a hand press against the small of your back. “You’ve got us – me, Andy, Ari, and Steve – and won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Bucky whispers, his mouth hovering just above your ear.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” You growl, stomping towards the front door.

“Fair warning, sweetheart.” He calls after you, his voice tinged with laughter as he goes to follow you inside. “Your Uncle Steve doesn’t like that kind of language. And I’m afraid Uncle Andy isn’t the type to put up with that attitude either.”

“Then tell them they should keep their asses home!” You snap as you reach the stairs, taking them two at a time all the while silently praying that he doesn’t follow.

“All I’m saying is that I’d hate to see Stevie have to wash out that pretty little mouth out with soap.” He calls from the bottom of the stairs, no longer bothering to hide his laughter. 

The fucking pervy bastard was enjoying this!

You slam your door with a flourish, briefly reveling in the sound it makes as it shakes the entire frame. If Bucky, or any of your so-called uncles thought you were still that same, sweet little girl you used to then they were in for one hell of a rude awakening.

Fuck! You’re so busy fuming over your current situation that you have no idea what’s taking place quite literally beneath your feet. For tonight, you decide that ignorance is bliss. If you got hungry later you’d just have to find something on DoorDash.

You throw yourself on your bed with a huff, punching your pillow over and again until you feel some of the rage leave your body. This summer was going to fucking blow unless you found a way to stay busy away from the house. 

Meanwhile, Bucky has taken a seat at the bottom of the stairs. Pulling out his phone he opens the group chat he has with his buddies and proceeds to start typing. Call it intuition, but he had a feeling that he and his friends getting reacquainted with their precious little Clover was going to make for one hell of summer.

Oh yes, this was going to make for one hell of a summer indeed.

END

Unofficial Taglist:

@cjand10

[familyvideostevie]

time you will not spend alone

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni romance at the end of the world is this: flowers, lazy nights in bed after long days, and savoring every moment | or, joel makes you something. jackson!joel au, fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit cheesy but idgaf, ellie cameo cause i can't do a damn thing without her, tommy gets some page time here too, smut (riding, unprotected p in v sex, some finger sucking lol), tenderness, gift giving | 5.7k a/n: i think this is the last part of the just and just as series for the foreseeable future. thank you for reading about this little au and these two lovebirds! i adore them. thank you @frannyzooey and @macfrog for your eyes and support on this. and thank you everyone else for being patient. <3

Spring sweeps into the valley seemingly overnight. The peaks remain snow-capped but the bare branches of trees between the evergreens begin to bud. Chilly mornings lose their bite and frost turns to dew and every day there is more light.

You've always thought Jackson looks its best in winter, but it's a damn sight to see as life and color return. And the latter is your favorite part -- the rolling hills outside the walls and the forest patrol paths are dotted and then overflowing with flowers.

It makes you feel more alive. Patrol isn't a freezing ordeal anymore -- it's an opportunity to see the remaining beauty in the world.

Today's shift is short and easy but you find yourself lingering, running your hands through pine needles and turning your face to the sun. Your horse is happy to munch on a patch of grass in a clearing just off the main trail, but your patrol partner is less than impressed.

"Are you serious?" Ellie moans. "You're stopping again? What the fuuuuuuuuck."

She sags in the saddle. The pout on her lips makes her look like a kid sent to bed without supper rather than an almost-twenty-year-old forced to spend some extra minutes in the fresh air. Shimmer has no problem chewing on some weeds despite her rider's moaning.

"Let me enjoy the sun," you say. "When you get older you'll appreciate the little things, too."

You hop off your horse and Ellie sighs loudly.

"Jesus, you're not that old," she mutters. "Seriously, what are you doing?"

You sweep your arms around you, gesturing at the meadow. "These flowers are nice," you tell her, pointedly. She adjusts the rifle slung over her shoulder. "I think I'm going to pick some and bring them home."

She snorts. "Oh, is Joel suddenly into flowers?"

You ignore her bait and crouch, gaze sweeping over the array of colors in front of you. You tried to learn the names of flowers years ago when you found a book on them in an old bookstore but they never stuck. Purples, pinks, and yellows, large petals and small ones, delicate yet hardy to survive the world past its end.

Joel isn't a fussy man. Young fathers don't get to be, and anyone alive these days sheds that impulse just as quickly. He's happy to wake up every day with you by his side, his kid in the garage out back and walls around everything he loves, keeping it all safe.

It makes it both easy and hard to please him -- you want to give him everything but he seems to want nothing. A perfect paradox, a puzzle to solve. 

God, you love him. You love spring, you love Joel. Everything feels good.

So, you start to gather stems, snapping them at their bases, humming as you work.

"How do you choose which ones to pick?"

"Fuck," you gasp, careening forward onto one palm and looking over your shoulder. Ellie is off her horse and much closer than before, standing directly behind you. "Jesus, you're stealthy."

She shrugs, her smirk a pleased slash across her face. "You're oblivious as fuck."

You roll your eyes at her.

"Seriously," Ellie says, crossing her arms. She jerks her chin at the small bouquet you've got in one hand. "How do you make it look so nice?"

"Oh, so we've moved on from the making-fun-of-me part of this?"

She crouches next to you, elbows on her knees.

"I, uh -- " Her cheeks go pink, freckles standing out against her blush. "Dina likes flowers."

You bump her shoulder with yours. "I'm going to be so nice and not tease you."

"Fuck off," she scoffs, tucking her smile into her shoulder.

It's quick work. Ellie follows your lead, balances out the blooms she picks with some leafy weeds. She ties them together with one of the minimum four spare hairbands she has on her person at all times -- bits of cloth, occasionally a rare unused elastic from before if she's found some on patrol.

"Isn't it kinda shitty?" she muses, nimble fingers turning her bouquet this way and that to admire it. "We're killing them. The flowers, I mean."

"Little late to have a conscience about killing," you say lightly. The two rabbits she pulled from Jackson snares hang from her saddle. You've seen her in action, too -- gun raised, hands steady, blood splattered across her cheek. It's not an accusation, far from it. Violence is a language you both speak, one she's known for most of her still-short life.

She rolls her eyes, every bit a teenager. "Whatever."

You sigh. "You're right, though," you say. "There were whole shops dedicated to this before. Selling flowers, making bouquets and centerpieces and all that shit."

She probably knows this, but she lets you describe it. Ellie soaks up bits of the old world like it will materialize before her if she listens hard enough. Joel says it was much worse when she was younger, right after they settled into Jackson. She wanted details about everything and watched every movie she could get her hands on. You think she was satisfying her curiosity, sure, but also that she was trying to understand him better -- but didn't know how to say so.

"Weird," she mutters. "And you just...bought them for other people?"

"Or yourself." You pat her shoulder and stand. Your horse tries to nibble on your flowers before you haul yourself back in the saddle. "It was just a nice thing to do, I guess."

"Killing something to make someone else happy," Ellie says with a dry laugh. She tucks her bouquet in the crook of her arm once she's back in the saddle. "I guess everyone does that these days."

It's absurd when she puts it that way, but it's true. You've all got blood on your hands. You would kill for this girl, for Joel, for pretty much anyone in Jackson. And you have.

The flowers are for Joel, they're for your house, they're for you. Something beautiful to bring home alongside your dirt stains and scarred hands, your haunted eyes and nightmares. No one is spared those.

It's only mid-morning by the time you get back to the wall. You and Ellie left at dawn, short sticks drawn for the early shift. She leaves you in the stables with a mock salute and a shout of thanks, practically jogging to Dina's to give her the flowers.

You're untacking your horse when you hear familiar laughter, a deep chuckle and Ellie's faint indignant protest.

"Mornin'," Joel says from behind you. "Was hopin' to catch you at the gate."

"Can you hold these?"

You blindly extend the hand with the flowers. His fingers carefully extract the bouquet and you return to brushing out your horse.

"Does this have somethin' to do with Ellie runnin' out of her with flowers of her own?"

"Never let anyone say you're unobservant, Joel Miller."

He snickers. You leave your horse with a final pat on the neck and thanks for a job well done.

When you face Joel, he looks tired -- he's been pulling extra long days replacing windows and roof tiles after the winter's damage. God knows that man never seems fully rested, but it's a little worse when the seasons change.

He's told you time and time again that standing two stories off the ground is a hell of a lot safer than fighting some Infected on patrol, but you still worry. Just like you know he worries about you beyond the walls, how he's a little tenser whenever you're not in sight, whenever he hasn't seen Ellie for a few days ‘cause they're both busy. It's just how he loves. It's how you both love.

You make no move to take the flowers from him, instead brushing some sawdust from his shoulder.

"Did you have a job already?" you ask.

"Small one. Fixin' a crooked over mailbox." He looks pointedly at his full fist. "You gonna explain now?"

"They're for you."

Joel blinks once, twice, brows furrowing like you're speaking a different language. Maybe a few years ago you'd start to feel self-conscious, unsure of your romantic gesture and insecure in his reaction. But now, as fully in love and connected to this man as you are, you lean in.

"If you're too manly to carry flowers through town --"

You make to take them from him but he snaps out of his daze and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest in a smooth motion.

He also holds the bouquet in the air and out of reach.

"Hey, now," he says. "Hands off. These ain't your flowers."

"I picked 'em," you remind him, poking him in the ribs for good measure. 

He flinches just a little but doesn't move. His embrace is warm and familiar and you sink into it. "Gettin' romantic," he mutters and brings the flowers back down to eye level to examine them.

"I'm just trying to catch up to you," you say into his jacket. He huffs and his palm rubs a slow line up and down your arm.

You wiggle out of his embrace to shoulder your pack.

"I am pretty romantic," he muses.

It's true. Even if he's joking and even if no one but you gets to see it, Joel has always made sure you feel loved. Courtship and romance look different these days, but it still comes naturally to him -- loving. Dinner dates, jewelry, and trips to the airport have become a battered paperback, a sharpened knife, and bloody knuckles, but it rings just as true. He loves you and he loves his family the best way he knows how – by keeping you all safe.

And you do your best to convey the same thing. You tell him, of course, but you also mend his shirts and chop wood when his back is acting up, and you look after his kid like she's your own.

Joel deserves to know that he can receive all that he gives, too – the protection, the tenderness, the beauty. Moments of softness and rest where he knows he’s taken care of, thought of, that he matters beyond the things he can do for everyone else.

So, you also do things like bring him flowers.

Sometimes you feel like it will never be enough. You will never have enough time to show him how much he means to you, how he's saved you, how important and cherished and loved he is. How good he is.

Joel reaches for your face with his free hand. He traces the line of your cheekbone with his thumb and smirks when you inhale sharply. Another patrol returns and the stables are suddenly louder and more crowded than before. If you're both free for the rest of the day, you want to drag him up to your bedroom and spend the hours there. You want to show him, for the millionth time, how much you love him.

"Okay, Mr. Pretty Romantic," you say, grabbing his hand and tangling your fingers together. "Let's go home."

___

Joel is hiding something from you.

The flowers last for a week and you watch him eye them and smile every time he enters the kitchen.

But after they droop and go in the compost pile, something shifts. Something subtle, sure, but you spend most of your waking hours looking for or at Joel, so you notice.

He starts keeping his workshop door closed. Normally you'll sit and watch him work, or he'll teach you a few chords here and there on the guitars he's making, but your lessons move to the porch and the upstairs hallway loses the scent of wood glue and stain.

In fact, he actively steers you away from the room altogether. He's all just needs a deep clean and it's messy, is all. It's not rocket science -- he's making something for you, clearly. But giving him a hard time is too fun to pass up.

One night, you and Ellie wait at the bottom of the stairs. There's a dinner and movie night in the old church and you're taking the opportunity to make it a family outing.

"You coming?" you holler up the stairs. You hear the door creak open.

"Gimme a second," he calls back down.

"Jesus," you mutter. You tap the side of Ellie’s sneaker with your boot. "You know anything about that?"

Honesty is important between all of you, but you know Joel and Ellie need to have their secrets. There is too much tangled history between them for you to understand it all. It's important to you that they have a relationship all their own, even if it means they scheme.

Ellie is examining her switchblade with intense focus. "I might," she says with a smirk. "He's a lovesick loser, I'll tell you that."

You lean on the banister and raise your eyebrows. "Do you remember when you asked me how to embroider so you could put Dina's name on her jacket?"

The knife swings closed with a snick and she rolls her eyes at you, cheeks pink.

"Shit, dude," she says. "Why do I tell you anything?"

"She liked the flowers, though, didn't she?"

Ellie crosses her arms and smiles at whatever memory she's seeing in her mind. "Yeah," she says. "She did. Jesse gave me so much shit, though --"

The door upstairs closes and Joel's heavy footfalls cut her off.

"Finally," you grumble. He trods down the stairs, arms half in his jacket when he catches sight of the two of you. "Are you hiding state secrets in there?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie asks.

"Might be," is all he says. He's got that twinkle in his eye that means mischief but he looks proud of himself. You can let him have this, whatever this is. You trust him and you'll find out eventually.

"Alright," you say, pushing off the banister and heading for the door. "You're going to breathe toxic fumes with the door closed."

"No, seriously," Ellie says. "What kind of secrets would a state be keeping?"

"Ain't nothin' toxic in there," he says lightly. He bumps Ellie's shoulder with his. "C'mon."

She throws her hands up in the air. "You know, it's shitty when you ignore me."

"Did you hear somethin'?" Joel says to you.

You shake your head, swallowing your laughter. "No," you say. "Nothing."

"Assholes." She pushes past you and down the steps onto the street. "I'm going to make sure there are no mashed potatoes left when you get there."

__

You don't mind letting Joel do whatever he's up to in all of his spare moments. It does mean you have more time to yourself, so you pick up some extra wall shifts.

And when one of those shifts is with Tommy? Well, you can't help but needle him a little bit about it all.

"Do you know what your brother is up to?" you ask him.

The wind today carries some lingering winter bite, so you've got the collar of your coat pulled up around your ears. Tommy’s hair whips around his face when he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Gonna have to be more specific," he says. "My brother is always up to some shit."

"I think he'd say the same thing about you."

Tommy laughs. He's got the reputation for being the more easy-going of the Millers, but you know he's more a match for Joel than most think. Out in the world, they work as one, silent and deadly, always in step when it counts. They still speak a language all their own with just a look and you see so much of them in each other when you pay attention.

"Well, I learned it all from him," he says. He adjusts his grip on the rifle and sighs. "I happen to know what you're talkin' 'bout, though."

"Is he just telling everyone but me?"

"Nah," Tommy scoffs. "Asked me and Ellie for help, s'all. And you know he tells that girl everythin'."

You both smile for a moment at your fondness for them.

Tommy clears his throat. "Does it bother you? Him keepin' a secret?"

You know Tommy won't let your answer get back to Joel. He's asking as your friend, as your kind-of brother. He's asking because he cares.

A patrol crests the hill, green flag waving in the air. They whistle and shout for the gate to be opened. 

You step closer to Tommy so he can hear you. "No," you say. "I just like to gossip."

"Don't I know it," he chuckles. "You two are the eyes and ears of this damn town. Knowin' everything."

"Except what happens in my own home," you tease. 

He shrugs. "You'll like it, if that helps," he adds.

"I know I will."

You look out at the world beyond the wall and smile to yourself. 

Joel has made you a few things over the years. He works wonders with his hands all the time: Beautiful, intricate carvings for the house, for Ellie, for new babies in town. The wall of guitars, not to mention the ones he's made for kids to learn on in school. You're better at sewing than he is, but he's pretty damn good – fixing up pillowcases and blankets and clothes of all kinds. Joel is a craftsman.

Hands that hold you can also pull a trigger, punch until there's nothing left, and craft a work of art.

And he knows you. He pays attention -- there is a reason behind everything he does. If he's making you something, you know you'll love it.

"Strange, ain’t it?" Tommy says. You turn to him, a question on your face. "World ended and here we all are, happy. Makin' shit for each other. Gosspin'."

You sigh. “Took a lot to get here.”

“Damn right,” he says with a long whistle. “Lotta shit behind us.”

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask. 

Tommy considers your words. You two talk plenty, but you’ve never really spoken about the past. Joel tells you whatever you want to hear about the years before you knew him, so you’ve got a pretty good picture of their lives after the outbreak.

"Can I tell you somethin’?” Tommy asks. You nod. "Alright. I – I never thought I'd see my brother this happy again. And I wish every damn day that Sarah was here to see it. To know him this way, to meet Maria. To know you and Ellie."

Joel has said the same thing before and it’s an honor greater than you can ever explain.

"When I saw him and that girl a few years ago, I thought --" Tommy clears his throat. "I thought maybe he’d made it through all the shit we did. And I was right. She brought him through it. And now he’s here, doin’ stable life shit we dreamed about before."

"Ellie is a force," you say, a little surprised to find your voice watery. The love between Ellie and Joel is fierce and powerful, evident to anyone who witnesses it. They would do anything for each other, even though they're mending.

"She is," he says. "And so are you.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know where I’m goin’ with this. Point is – seein' him love you, too, shows me he’s through it. He's alive again, you know? And I’d do all the shit we did over again just to get us all here. So, no. I don’t regret it."

It’s nothing you haven’t thought before, but the words work their way into your heart and sit there, heavy and warm.

“Damn,” you say. You swallow and give him a wide smile. "If you keep going, Tommy Miller, I will start crying and that would embarrass us both."

He laughs and blinks a few times. You join in, wiping your eyes.

"Alright, I won't," he says. "Jesus, all you did was ask what he's doin' in that workshop."

You clap him on the shoulder. "I won't tell anyone you started blubbering on duty."

He snorts. "Ain't that generous of you.”

__

Days pass. A week. You almost forget about Joel's project because he spends less and less time in the workshop and more on tasks around town as the days get longer. You're both busy -- chopping wood, planting bulbs for the fall, helping de-shed the horses. There's always work to be done.

After a particularly long day on your feet, you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel to find he's gotten home while you were in the shower.

"Hey, stranger," you say. You're mostly dry but some water drips down your back and you shiver. Joel is leaning against the headboard on top of the sheets without his shirt, reading whatever book he's onto now.

"Didn't hear me come in?" he asks. He sets his volume aside and pulls off his glasses.

"I was too busy coming back to life under some hot water." He probably heard you singing off-key to some long-lost song stuck in your head for the millionth time. "And you're quiet as hell, Joel."

He shrugs.

You just look at each other, the intimate gaze of two people who know every inch of each other and never tire of it.

The sleep pants he wears to bed this time of year are lightweight, thin enough that you can see the outline of him from here. His stomach is soft where he's bent at the waist and the trail of hair above his waistband is dark, darker than the rest of what's on his chest.

The golden expanse of his skin just begs to be touched, so you make your way over to him in your towel. He makes room for you to perch on the edge of the bed, the bare skin of your thigh pressing into his pants. His palm rests on your knee.

"I haven't seen much of you lately," you say softly. "’Cause of that damn thing you're working on."

His fingers press into your skin.

"Ain't patience a virtue, or something like that?"

"Whatever magic you're working better be worth waiting for," you tease.

Joel's hand resumes its path up your leg and he smirks.

"I can work some magic right now," he says.

You laugh, throwing your head back as his fingertips edge under the towel.

"That was awful," you say. "I should get dressed in all of my layers right now and go sleep on the couch."

You pull away from his touch so you can straddle him, your towel only held on by one hand at your breasts.

Joel snickers. "But then I wouldn't be able to do this."

Nimble fingers find your cunt between your spread legs and you gasp a laugh, one hand on his shoulder to balance you in his lap.

"Smooth," you manage. His other hand tugs on the towel and you release it, your slightly damp skin breaking out into goosebumps in the air of the bedroom.

Joel drags his lips between your breasts and you feel his smile.

"Christ," he says. "You comin' outta there in just a towel and you expect me to go to sleep?"

He pulls his fingers from you and frames your face with both hands to drag it down to his in a lazy, thorough kiss, like he's savoring each moment.

His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you let him in readily, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you grind down on the hardness you can feel through his pants.

"I've missed you," you say, dragging your tongue along down his jaw. His fingertips press into your bare hips hard enough to bruise, but it's a grounding touch rather than an urgent one. You want to take your time because you have missed him, and you think he feels the same way.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Joel groans, dragging your lips back to his. "It'll be worth it."

You pull back to look him in the eyes. The hazel-grey is almost totally taken over by his pupil, but his gaze softens when you cup his cheek and smile.

"I know," you say, and mean it. Naked in his lap in your bedroom, you mean it. You always mean it. You always trust him.

Joel kisses you once, twice, and you pull on his lower lip with your teeth when he pulls away. His nostrils flare and before you can tug his cock from his pants, he holds two fingers out to you.

You laugh, circling his wrist and bringing the digits past your lips. You swirl your tongue around them and really take your time with it, laving at his knuckles before releasing them with a pop.

His cock twitches beneath you and he huffs.

"You're an easy man to please, Joel Miller," you tell him, tugging down his pants and letting his shaft spring free. You stroke him root to tip and he hisses.

"Nah," he manages. "It's ‘cause it's you."

He follows his words with a circle of your clit from his spit-slick fingers.

"See?" you gasp. "Romantic."

It's a bit crowded, his hand rubbing your clit and yours slowly jerking him, but neither of you rush it. You pant together, dotting lazy kisses on any piece of bare skin you can reach. You breathe him in, the combination of sweat and gun oil and fresh detergent that's just Joel. A rush of tenderness hits you so suddenly your nose stings.

"Joel," you say, a bit ragged. "Joel, can you --"

A gentle hand on your face brings your foreheads together, his eyes on yours.

"Whatever you want," he groans. "Whatever you want, it's yours."

You can't help it -- you laugh. Brightly and happily, almost in disbelief that this man is yours. Real and solid under you right now, beside you every night. Yours to love and cherish and all the rest.

"You laughin' at me?" he grumbles, though you can tell he's fighting a smile.

"I just love you, is all," you say. You probably don't say it enough. You and Joel show each other every day, so much so that you can't imagine he doesn't know. As it is, you feel loved by him with every move he makes, every time he looks in your direction, every time he says your name.

"And I want you to fuck me," you add.

It's Joel's turn to laugh.

"Now who's the romantic one?" he says. 

You rise from his lap and settle onto your back on the other side of the bed, stretching with your hands above your head.

His eyes follow the line of your bare body, fondness and hunger recognizable in his gaze.

"Always so damn pretty," he grumbles. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"Flirt," you tease.

He rises to his knees and pumps his cock a few times with his fist. You spread your legs for him, knees bent up against your chest.

He settles between your knees and you lock them around his hips. Joel honest-to-god winks at you before dragging two fingers through your folds to make sure you're slick enough.

"Ready?"

You nod. He enters you in one practiced move and you groan in unison as you adjust. It takes some shuffling but he finds a position he can hold, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

Joel fucks you slow and deep. Each drag of his cock against your walls curls your toes and drags whines from both of your throats. He keeps up his usual babel -- doin' so good, feel like a dream, so damn tight, cunt's a fuckin' miracle -- and you press your hands into his bare back like he's a life raft.

Sweat beats on your brow, your chest, everywhere, and you suck bruises into his neck as his thrusts get a little frantic. Your own orgasm sneaks up on you, the pressure building and building and building until it snaps without warning.

"Joel -- Joel, fuck, I --"

You clench around him and he chants your name, that's it, baby, come on my cock, and buries himself to the hilt to finish inside you.

He hovers above you on trembling arms long enough to press a sweet kiss to your lips before rolling off of you.

"Now I'm ready for bed," you say, panting.

You fling a hand out lazily and it lands on his chest. He intertwines your fingers and his gaze finds yours. You smile as you get your breathing under control.

Joel smooths your brow with a thumb. "Don't forget to --"

"I know, I know," you say. "C'mon, you know this isn't my first rodeo." You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom.

"You sayin' I'm a bull?" Joel calls after you.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy!" you holler back, cleaning yourself up. "Didn't people used to say that?"

Joel doesn't answer you but you laugh at your own joke. You make your way back to the bed in old pyjamas and find him back in his sweatpants, feet flat on the floor like he's about to get up and go somewhere.

"Joel?"

He sighs, his shoulders moving up and down like he's bracing himself.

"It's done," he says. "Your surprise."

The confession stops you in your tracks.

"Oh?"

You know Joel better than mosty, but sometimes he's still a puzzle. The hesitation, the slight air of anxiety about him as he says it confuses you. Because Joel is good at taking care of people, and he has to know it -- those years he and Ellie didn't speak you know he left her things, know that he took care of her from afar as much as she would let him. It's just what he does, he uses his hands to beat and shoot and bloody – but also to carve and hold and love.

They're the same thing, really.

And he's made you something �� one of countless gifts he's given you, tangible and not, throughout your relationship.

But he's nervous. As if you wouldn't love anything he made, anything he does. As if you're not gone over every part of him.

"Hm," he says. "Yeah. Let me --"

Joel gets up from the bed and pads over to the dresser to rummage around in a drawer. You meet him back on the bed and he's holding a square-ish parcel wrapped in cloth.

You gingerly take it from him.

"This is what you've been working on?" you ask softly. He nods.

You unwrap the cloth and find yourself holding leather-bound journal. The hide is smooth under your fingertips, scraped clean by hand and tanned a dark chestnut.The spine is about an inch wide, the whole thing swen together with neat stitches of what can only be catgut. A thinner strip of leather is wrapped around the cover and tucked into itself carefully. It must have taken him ages to make. 

"Joel," you gasp. "It's...god, it's beautiful."

He tells you how he found it on patrol a few weeks ago. The cover was fucked but the paper was somehow fine, so he dried out the pages and rebound it with a hide he tanned himself. You run your hands over it again almost like you can feel his fingerprints all over it, the hours he poured into the pages.

The inside cover falls open easily when you undo the tie and you see letters in the bottom left corner of it. Your eyes sting.

Joel has carefully burned your name into the leather, each letter perfectly lined up with the next. You haven't had something with your name on it in years.

He clears his throat. "Ellie said she'd give you some of her pens. Show you how to refill 'em."

You look up from your gift and find so much love on his face you can hardly stand it. He was inside you not that long ago and somehow this is more intimate. You surge forward into his space and wrap an arm around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

"I don't know what to say," you confess. "Just -- thank you."

He runs his hand along your spine.

"S'nothin'," he says. "Just saw it and thought of you, is all."

You release him and shake your head in disbelief. This man.

"What should I write in it?"

Joel's cheeks darken a little. Of course he's thought of everything.

"Figured you could write about...all this." He waves a hand in the air like that explains anything.

"All what?"

He shrugs one bare shoulder.

"Life," he says. "Jackson. Folks here. Might be nice, havin' the memories."

You scoot closer to him so you're almost in his lap again.

"You want me to write down the gossip?" You mean it as a joke but Joel nods.

"You pay attention," he explains. "Someone's gotta."

You're not much of a writer anymore, haven't had cause to be in twenty years. But you do like to tell stories. You both do. 

The pages are soft under your fingertips as you flip through them again. You're going to fill them with stories -- about this town, about Joel and Ellie and Tommy and the people you love. The people you've lost, too. The memories that hurt like bruises, like fresh wounds. But the good stuff, too. The gossip, the love stories, the plants in the yard and the flowers on the trails.

Joel has given you the ability to record your lives.

You reach over him to set the journal on the nightstand before you frame his face with both of your hands.

"I'm going to write pages and pages about you, Joel Miller," you whisper.

He huffs, cheeks warm under your palms. "That's borin'."

You shake your head and lean in until your lips brush and your eyes flutter shut.

"That's the story," you say. "That's my life. This is my life. You are."

“I love you,” he breathes. “So damn much. Y’know that?”

How could you not? You say so and kiss him firmly but without hurry. You’ve got lots of time. You’ve got forever.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Hey so Wonu overstimulating you, and Mingyu watching because he wants to know why you're so loud, and he needs proof.

tw: dom!wonwoo, sub!reader (fem), voyeur!mingyu, male masturbation, use of sex toys, praise, squirting, overstimulation, possessiveness - minors dni.

You don't know if you want to crawl into a hole and disappear from the face of earth or devote a statue for your boyfriend's sake. Maybe you don't even have the necessary functional brain cells at the moment to actually decide.

All you know is that you want Wonwoo to throw away that damn magic wand and rearrange your guts in front of his hot best friend.

"I almost feel sorry for her, she hasn't stopped moaning ever since you started." Mingyu grunts as he watches your legs shake again, his own hand occupied on his thick cock.

"You were the one who wanted to know why she's so loud." Wonwoo refreshes his friend's memory and moves the wand closer to your entrance.

"Wish I was the reason she's so damn loud." Mingyu throws his head back on the chair, his fingers spreading his precum over his shaft.

"One more word about this and I'm kicking you out." The older man grits his teeth and presses the toy closer on your pussy.

"F-Fuck, Won- I'm gonna cum!" You cry out and squirt on the fabric of your panties, some of your juices dripping on your boyfriend's lap.

"Loud and messy." Mingyu hisses while rubbing the tip of his cock.

"And mine. Do not forget that, Gyu." Wonwoo looks directly at the other man, his free hand rubbing your inner thigh.

"W-Wonu-" You sob between moans, your hands holding his wrists in a futile attempt to stop him. "I c-can't take it anymore."

"Don't be like that, sweetheart." He presses a kiss on your cheek and lets his hand roam over your white now turned translucent panties, gathering some of your cum with his fingers. "I know your pussy can give me one more, hm? One more and I'll give you anything you want."

"P-Promise?"

"Anything for you, pretty girl."

You part your legs again and let him put the wand directly over your clit and he turns it on the max setting, keeping it there until your legs start shaking again.

The cotton barrier separating the toy from your clit adds on the pleasure, the fabric clinging on your pussy like second skin and showcasing every ridge and curve of it.

"God, I can see her clenching even with her panties on." Mingyu moans and speeds up his fist, bringing himself closer to his climax.

"Are you close, sweetheart? Are you gonna cum with pretty boy over there?" Wonwoo asks you with a sickeningly sweet voice and you nod furiously.

"Words, darling."

"Fuck, I'm cumming, Won, I'm gonna squirt!" You yell and arch your back off his chest, squirting harder this time, toes curling and nails digging on his thighs.

Your senses are overwhelmed from the intensity of your climax, completely missing the ropes of cum splattering on Mingyu's abdomen, adding white streaks on the golden of his skin.

Wonwoo lets out a low grunt of satisfaction when you rest on his body, nearly passing out from exhaustion. He turns off the toy, softly petting your hair.

He gently lifts you in his arms, trying his best to carry you to the bathroom for a thorough cleanup.

"Hey, what about me!?" Mingyu whines breathlessly.

"What about you?" Wonwoo asks nonchalantly.

"Don't I get a cleanup sesh?"

"You have legs that can carry you to the bathroom." The older man deadpans and Mingyu huffs dramatically, looking down on the mess he made all over his torso.

"Motherfucker."

[madelynraemunson]

pass the salt pt. 2 • e.m smut

part one here.

OLDER!DAD’S BEST FRIEND!EDDIE x FEM!READER

summary: dad’s having a bbq for labor day weekend and you heard through the grapevine that a certain friend of his is going to be there.

author’s note: let’s revisit the popsicle ordeal, shall we? 🍦

CW: porn with plot, oral (m-receiving), degrading kink, but also a praise kink bc i’m both and don’t know how that can possibly be, face fucking, cum eating, eddie eats his own cum if you squint heheheheheh, deep throating, cheating; for context, eddie is in his late 30s, reader early 20s and in college. dividers: @benkeibear @bucciniexe

WC: 2.3k words

Eddie never called.

He couldn’t possibly be that old and forgetful.

Before parting ways, the 39 year old promised he’d let you know when he got home safely. So you stayed up all night waiting for a text, a call. And while it was evident he did make it back (he was playing games with your dad all night a couple days later), you couldn’t help but feel forgotten about.

Also, it’s West Memphis. What’s so interesting about the boonies that made Eddie forget about you so easily?

But now classes are back in session and Eddie, too, was becoming easy to forget. Easy to forget, that is, until conversations about your father’s annual Labor Day Weekend barbecue comes up.

"Eddie will be there, you remember him right?"

DO you?

Your thighs clench in place as you attempt to tame your excitement. Suddenly, your upper divisions are being ignored and you’re searching your closet for the shortest of short shorts to wear.

“Try forgetting about me NOW, Eddie,” you think to yourself.

LABOR DAY WEEKEND

You just about checked your appearance a billion times in the mirror before making your way downstairs.

This afternoon you’re dressed in skin-tight denim shorts and a light top with puffy sleeves.

Your eye makeup? Specifically designed for destruction. And your lips? Cheeks? Both the same innocent, peachy pink. It’s sure to drive Eddie insane.

You could hardly contain your excitement. The thought of your fantasies being fulfilled within the next couple of days has you in tumultuous heat.

Being bent over the kitchen counter. Folded up atop the wash. Getting railed to bits in the guest room in the middle of the night while the TV drowns out your pretty little noises. But most of all, you couldn’t wait to be with Eddie. There was so much to talk to him about since he left.

After one last pep talk, you down your water like it’s a shot before going over to greet everyone.

———

When you get to the backyard, you offer the sea of guests polite smiles and pleasantries. Your dad is at the grill, doing what he does best with a big smile on his face. When you scoot past him, you see Lucas Sinclair and his wife, Maxine. You nod to Dustin Henderson. And Steve Harrington, the business guy.

Then you see him.

But it is to your absolute shock — and horror — that he happens to be manspread atop a lawn chair, laughing into the crook of a random woman's neck as she's perched on his lap.

Well this is awkward.

You watch as they laugh like teenagers in love, the woman leaning into Eddie the closer he reels her in. You watch him call her his "baby", as she runs her delicate fingers through his wavy brown hair. His cheeks turn a flattered rose when she kisses his nose with hers. But when his gaze drifts from her to you, it’s shifts to a different kind of red. An "oh shit" kind of red. An "I'm caught" kind of red. You swallow hard.

It's no wonder anymore why Eddie didn’t call. He found someone new.

"Sunshine!" your dad calls you over. "You know my buddies, Gareth and Grant. Mike, Will, and Jonathan?”

“Yes!” you attempt to remain collected, giving all the guys a gracious smile hello. “Hi, nice to see you again.”

When you make your way over to Eddie, you notice that he begins to sulk into his seat, avoiding any form of eye contact with you.

“And of course you know Eddie.”

Your dad’s best friend gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“How ya doing, sweetheart?”

“Long time no see…” is all you can say.

“And this is his girlfriend of three years, Sophie."

Your stomach is in knots now. THREE YEARS?!

Suddenly, your gaze goes from surprised to angry. Horrified. Nauseated.

Sophie wasn’t the other woman. It was you.

Meanwhile Eddie doesn’t seem to have a guilty bone in his body. When your eyes finally meet, you see that his are dark, piercing into you with such an intensity that you nearly stumble backwards.

"Aww Jeff," Sophie pouts. "Your daughter is so cute!"

"Isn't she?" Eddie coos.

It’s hard for you to comprehend anything, so you go mute shortly after the interaction. And for a while, you linger, as to not appear suspicious or upset. In the meantime, Eddie watches you while you talk to the other guests and help yourself to a couple pieces of fruit, curious as to why and how you haven’t caused a scene yet.

But you’re about to if you stay any longer.

Storming into the house now, you tilt your chin upwards to stop the inevitable down-flow of waterworks. And it’s when you think you’re all alone that a pair of gruff hands grab you by the wrists, shifting your back promptly against the wall.

Your breath hitches in response, as anyone's would if their body was being refrained by a tall, husky, and intoxicated silhouette.

"The nerve you have wearing those shorts around me," he breathes onto you.

You shove him back aggressively.

"Fuck off, Eddie," you spit. "You have a girlfriend?! You had one this whole time?!"

"Hey now—”

"After everything, you couldn’t even bother to tell me you’re already spoken for? Really?!" your voice is at an aggressive whisper now.

"I never said I was perfect."

"Clearly you aren't."

Eddie backs away for a second to let your anger simmer, his resigned hands creating a fair amount of distance between you two. But seeing you all angry and frazzled made his cock twitch, the only thing stopping him from fucking some forgiveness out of you being the thought of people standing right outside.

"I waited for you to call, Eddie. And you forgot all about me."

"Wanna make me remember then?"

You feel his erection through his strained denim jeans as Eddie tauntingly rubs himself against you.

"Make me remember how good I fucked you that one night?" he questions you rhetorically. "How pretty those moans sounded getting drowned out by my pillow? How you begged me to rail you dumb while you came hard all over my cock?"

Your lip quivers as his hot breath tickles your neck. You bite down in attempts to make it less obvious.

"How I corrupted Daddy's Little Girl?” he cockily adds.

"Ha!" you manage to scoff at him. "You really think you turned me, huh? You cannot be more wrong, Eddie. You haven't influenced me a bit.”

"Then what's all this about?"

He motions towards your outfit.

The taunting lace frills. The scant length with no built-in spandex underneath. Your outfit sculpted your body so nice, in every possible way. And as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you did do all of it for Eddie. And his influence is very prominent. Your face flushes red as Eddie searches for your gaze.

"Not foolin' anybody, darling," your dad’s friend issues you a sinister smirk. "Like I said before, I used to be your age."

“I can’t even look at you right now.” you mutter.

“You don’t have to.”

He grabs your hand and you let him, tracing the outline of his stiff cock as he grunts against you.

“In fact,” Eddie says as he shakes his head. “…you don’t have to speak at all. Would be hard for you to anyways with me in your mouth.”

Your breathing quickens the closer Eddie gets, and you find it impossible to pull away when he starts kissing down your neck — his breaths hot — the way his soft lips suction against your temple... even hotter — and the spearmint that danced with the nic at the back of his throat, expelling a shaky hum out of you that you tirelessly fought to keep inside.

"Eddie," you whimper. "I'm yours."

Eddie issues you a rough smack across your ass.

"I know that. On your knees."

There was no going back now. Before you know it, your knees meet the cold wooden floor, face practically already buried at the base of Eddie’s crotch before he could even strip himself down.

You sit patiently while Eddie grabs a chair, sitting down and teasingly palming himself while he lines himself up with you. You hungrily watch as he slides his jeans down, stroking his incredible length and girth a few times, before slapping the head of his leaking cock against the matching gloss of your lips.

"Missed it?"

You crumble.

"So much," you pout.

Eddie motions you forward and you place your lips on his throbbing head, sucking him in place before spiraling your tongue seductively down his shaft.

“Fuuuck,” he whispers. “There she is. There’s my girl.”

His praise causes you to melt into him, clinging to his waist and taking him deep as he holds you in place, the back of your head fitting his calloused palm like a glove.

“Mmhmm??” Eddie grunts as he studies every fervid bob of your head. “Mmhmm?? — Ohhh, fuck. Good girl.” He moves your hair out of the way. “That’s a good girl.”

Eddie cranes his neck towards the door leading outside, keeping watch of anybody who might be coming in.

But even when on the lookout, Eddie continues to mindfully thrust, slowly when people near but compensating with direct blows the moment they walk away.

Fucking hell.

He's a challenge in every possible way. Your tear-strung eyes trail up at Eddie as he watches you suck, slouching in his seat…rolling his hips… thrusting into your gaping mouth slightly past the point of resistance. And you were being so brave, that is until he unexpectedly plunges himself into you, causing you to gag and push hard against his warm thighs to catch your breath.

"Need some air, baby?"

"I—” you cough. “I — hate you.”

You spit back down onto his throbbing cock, showcasing to Eddie his salty string of pre-cum as he strokes your temple in consolation.

"I’m sure you do..." Eddie chuckles, offering you a menacing, adulterous pout in return. “I’m sure you fucking do.”

He knees the base of your core lightly and you immediately, obediently fold your hands behind your back. With his available hand, Eddie grazes your ass, venturing his fingers around your wet slit causing you to moan as your throat is jabbed repeatedly.

Eddie goes just far enough to hear more of your angelic, reactive gags. Pleasure-saturated tears roll uncontrollably down your cheeks. Amused, Eddie shakes his head as you desperately gargle him dry, his arousal spewing recklessly against your palate.

"She hates Eddie, she hates Eddie,” it’s almost like he’s singing it. Eddie chants sarcastically as he watches your makeup run out of pure lust. "Bet that filthy mouth LOVES him though, doesn't it, sweetheart?"

You nod again. Without the slightest bit of mercy, Eddie is practically ramming into you now. But you’re beyond the point of caring. You want him to obliterate you. More than he already has.

You knew better. But your dad’s best friend knew better than you.

“That filthy mouth loves how Eddie tastes?” he quips again as you nod up at him bitterly. “Hm?”

And as he finishes inside your mouth, salty seed soothing the back of your bruised throat, Eddie grabs you by the jaw to lock you in place. The twisted fucker wants you to savor every drop of his load, his ego oozing into you while his thick groans pollute the kitchen air. And when he finds the courage to finally look you in the eyes, your gaze pierces into him as you swallow him down.

And just as menacingly, Eddie grins down at you. You bat your lashes innocently as he gives your hollowed cheek a few delicate smacks with his large palm, followed by adorn praises for swallowing every drop he issued you.

“My pretty baby,” Eddie fawns, as his stiff cock finally grows flaccid. He grabs your chin to give it a sloppy kiss, and your eyes follow intently as he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He licks the evidence off with his teasing tongue. “You gonna be my pretty lil baby on the low?”

“As long as you don’t forget to call this time,” you issue a playful frown.

“Don’t worry darlin’,” Eddie assures you. “After what you just did to me right now, I’m never leaving you alone.”

When you both finish cleaning up, Eddie follows your lead as you two head outside. He goes back towards his friends at one corner of the backyard while you walk over to the nearest cooler for a popsicle. And as the party draws on, you two mingle around, talk, and party with all the others... as if nothing happened.

And even though you're able to play it off like it's no big deal, Eddie's words were all you could think about for the rest of the day.

“You gonna be my pretty lil baby on the low?”

Crying over spilled milk is almost never worth it. Sometimes it’s best swallowed with your pride.

tagging who seemed interested 🎀 : @tracymbcm @eiightysixbaby @katethetank @mikalovesmusic @munsonscharm @wonderlandwalker @mayaluvzyou @skrzydlak @buckybarnsishot @eddiesxangel @xxbimbobunnyxx @justmeinadaze @nailbatanddungeon @mediocredreams @littlexdeaths

thank you so much for tuning in :)

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Favorite Pet

Touch Me (1)

BDSM Preformer!Fem!Reader! X subby! Wanda

Summary: You've hit your limit when you can't find a partner to click with at work until a new plaything comes along.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!, obviously BDSM themes at play, collar leash play, exhibitionism and voyeurism, pet play, pet names (R is referred by W as Mommy, W is referred by R as pet and plaything along with amor) degradation, praise, R uses strap on W, rope play, vibrator use, edge play, aftercare

Word count: 4.5K

A/N: I loved writing this, and I still have more I want to do with this, so if you like it, there could be a part 2 in the future

Having all eyes on you was something you normally dreaded. You hated knowing that people were looking or staring at you. Normally you’d want to be invisible, but not now; not on stage. Fuck did it feel good to have people watching you get degraded or degrade someone else. To toy and tease, bending to your pleasure. 

You stood above him, cold as you played through your scene; distant. As soon as it ended, you were gone, far away from him and everyone else. Of course, though, he yells after you are trying to get you to stop. You hate it when anyone yells at you, but more specifically, men. 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N!?” He asked as you stopped. Everyone around had their eyes on you, and you shook in place. “Well? What the hell was that? There was nothing behind that! No feeling. No emotion! How are we supposed to give them a good show when it’s all fake?” 

You kept walking, ignoring him and his words. It didn’t matter to you anymore. They’re all the same, and none of them are satisfying to you. 

“Fuck this I’m done. Find yourself a new stage partner!” you started running until you went out the back door, out of breath as you fall down. 

How are you supposed to keep this job when you can’t work with anyone here? You can’t do anything else. This is all you're good at. You are not going to go back to being a teacher again. You loved that, but this was on a whole other level of making you happy and paying the bills that’s for sure.

“Y/N/N?” You hear the familiar voice of your best friend, Kate, call out to you. You look up at her, and she realizes the tears in your eyes. “Oh Y/N, what happened?” She sits down next to you, the warm summer night air feeling good on your skin.

“I can’t work with any of them. There’s no feeling behind it and none of them want to work with me if I can’t do that, but I haven’t been able to do that since…” you shake your head trying not to think of bad thoughts, back to your last partner, well your last partner before Kate. You feel her arms wrap around you, pulling you close. 

“Listen to me. She’s nothing. Got it? She’s a shit person, and she doesn’t control you.” You nod slowly, choosing to think of the better times with Kate. You sniffled a bit, and Kate held you tighter. You and Kate had dated for a bit, but you two realized you were better as friends.

“You’ll be okay, let’s go home.” She got up, pulling you up with her. 

You hadn’t been to the club in a week even though the manager keeps calling you to ask if you want to do a performance. You can’t though…nobody wants you as their partner. You can’t put emotions into something that you have no emotion towards. 

You're lying on Kate’s couch with a blanket pulled up to your chin and scrolling on your social media. You've been staying here instead of your house because you didn’t want to be alone. Kate’s wife, Yelena, is pretty amazing, too. The three of you get along really well. She’s at the end of the couch with your feet on her lap as she watches something on TV. Your phone buzzes again, and it’s your manager, Natasha, who is Yelena’s older sister; you sigh and get Yelena’s attention before answering it. 

“Yes Tasha?” you asked, sounding exhausted even to yourself. You shifted onto your back and looked at Lena, who raised an eyebrow. Mouthing ‘Sestra?’ Which you nod to her.

“Can you come tonight? I need you to help out with a new girl. She’s going to be starting tonight. She’s a year younger than you and I think it’d be good for both of you.” You sigh again, not really wanting to go out tonight, especially not there where you have to dress up and put on a show. 

“Domme or sub?” you ask, noticing Yelena’s smirking.

“Sub it seems.” Submissive boys are fun to play with, but girls are always a lot more fun to play with.

“Alright…what time?” you could hear her perk up.

“The usual time. Five to close.” You sigh again. After not being there for a week, you were not looking forward to a nine hour shift.

“I’ll be there, no promises on how good I’ll be.” You let her know and hung up. You closed your eyes, and Lena spoke,

“We going to the club tonight?” Lena wiggled her eyebrows at you. As if doesn’t visit her sister every night or work on the back end of the business with Kate.

“Yeah there’s a new girl they want me to show her the ropes, literally.” you both laugh at the pun as Kate comes in the front door.

“What’s so funny?” She asks setting her keys down in the bowl they keep by the entry way.

“Y/N’s gotta show a new girl the ropes.” Kate’s expression falls.

“You two are idiots.”

“We’re your idiots though~” you say and get up with a smile. “This could end up being a fun evening.” 

You had Kate and Yelena take you back home so you could go choose an outfit. It was simple enough, just a red silk button-up with a black tie and a black button-up vest and some black dress pants as well as a pair of black loafers. You checked yourself over in the mirror and slicked your Y/H/C hair back. 

Your phone vibrates multiple times in a row, and you know it’s Kate. You smile and roll your eyes as you grab your phone. Five new text messages from her. 

≈≈≈

The club was always so quiet before hours as the three of you made your way inside past Bucky the bouncer who always loved to see you. Familiar faces on you, some happy and others not so much as you made my way to Tasha letting her know to send the new girl to your room and then headed there. Kate and Yelena stayed behind, grabbing a drink from the bartender, Scott.

You were putting the finishing touches on your make-up when there was a knock at your door. “Come in.” you called, when the door opened you looked through your mirror to see probably the most beautiful woman you had ever met, auburn hair, piercing emerald green eyes that you could see from across the room, she wore a short black dress with a red leather crop jacket, she wore knee high ripped stockings, and ankle cuff boots, the make-up around her green eyes was dark and smoky in a way that reminded me of high school.

“Hi you’re Y/N, right?” She asked and fuck she has an accent which is your biggest weakness. You love accents of all kinds and most of them turn you on. 

“Yes that is me. I unfortunately wasn’t told your name, just that you’re new and would be my new partner.” She smiled at you.

“Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.” She told me.

“Wanda...” You tested the name on your lips. “Beautiful.” You smiled and noticed her blush. “Come here.” You beckoned, and she finally stepped in, sauntering over to you. “Spin around.” She does as told, spinning slowly as I looked her over, drinking up every inch of her. “Stop.” you commanded as she faced you again. “Kneel.” She got down without a word of protest, “Such a good girl.” You smirk. “Now tell me, is there anything I should know about you, Wanda?” you ask and she pulls out the forms that everyone has to fill out of their kinks, hard limits, soft limits, and some personal questions mainly about health issues that your play partner should be aware of, allergies, and if you have any STDs. The last question is about safe sex which Wanda takes birth control much like myself. Not that you ever actually do it with the guys.

As far as tastes go, Wanda and you are pretty much on the same page with your likes and dislikes, which makes you smile. “I can work with this.” You tilt her chin up using your fingers. She had been looking at the floor this whole time, “Now for my own personal questions for you, Wanda. Which name do you like better, pet, puppy, kitten, baby, or something else entirely?” You ask her.

“Pet is always a good one for me. I tend to have Doms that tell me what I am, why does it matter which I like best?” She tilts her head to the side so innocently. 

“I want to get the best reaction out of you. The whole performance is you. All eyes on your reactions, and they need to be genuine. No form of play is good if you don’t follow one simple rule.” You tell her, and she tilts her head the opposite way. You lean down slightly, so you're eye level with her. “I may be the Domme, but you are in control of the whole scene. You’re the one who holds control over all of it.” You tell her, and she looks so confused. 

“What are you talking about? I’m not in control at all. You control me. You tie me up, you degrade me, you turn me into a dumb slut because you’ve fucked me until I can’t even think how am I in control?” you bite your lip at the idea of everything she just said to you, soaking it in and remembering it for your performance. 

“Safe word.” You start, “You hold all of the control because you hold the safe word. The thing that will end everything. Make me stop dead in my tracks and make sure you’re okay. Make sure you are safe.” You're looking into the deep emerald eyes, and she’s staring back into my own Y/E/C ones. “You really never had a good Dom who took care of you, did you?” You tilt your head.

“They took care of me in the way that mattered.” She tried defending, but I knew she didn't have a leg to stand on in this aspect.

“Aftercare.” You state simply, and she looks at you with her face contorting in confusion.

“What?”

“Have you ever had aftercare?”

“I...what is that?” Your heart sinks at her response.

“How many Dom/sub relationships have you been in?” 

“Seven.” She swallows hard. Seven BDSM relationships and not one of them took care of this girl?

“Aftercare is what you do when the scene ends. This is where the Dom makes sure that you come back from subspace in a safe way and not crashing back; it can have bad effects on your mental and physical health. I always have my subs tell me what they like best, for me personally when I’m the sub I tend to ask for cuddles and I can just scroll on my phone watching tiktok and YouTube shorts that I can share with my partner. I’ve had subs that ask for cuddles and words of affirmation, I’ve had baths after a scene is done, surprisingly I even had one that just wanted to always go for a walk in the park after.” ypu shrug, “Everyone is different. What is something you think you’d like to do?” You ask, and she thinks for a moment.

“I really enjoy cooking, and I’m always hungry after sex. I’ve always just cooked by myself, making a meal for my Dom.” She confesses.

“Well then, after we finish our performance, you and I can go back to my place, it’s only a few blocks away, and we can cook dinner. Does that sound good?” She blushes and nods. You cup her cheeks, brushing the pads of your thumbs across her cheeks, loving the feeling of her smooth skin beneath your tips. “I’m going to take care of you, Wanda. We have a long night ahead of us. While others perform until it’s our turn, luckily they saved us for last, we’ll be going around the club and introducing you to our clientele. I’ll introduce you as my pet or plaything. You have no name to them, at least as a sub. Well, even as a Domme, I shouldn’t have a name, but they all know me out there, so they call me by my name.” You let her know, and she’s listening intently. 

“Yes...uh...”

“Miss, Mistress, Master, Sir, Mommy. Whichever you prefer. I love all of them.”

“Yes...Mommy.” you smiled at her, running your fingers through her hair. 

“My good baby.” I haven’t felt like this since her. It's been so long since you thought you'd never feel like this with a partner again. “How about we get you all dressed up,  pretty girl. As much as I love this outfit you’ve chosen. I’d like you in something a little different.” You smirk, and she nods happily, ready and willing to follow. 

You get her dressed in a red lace lingerie set with black accents and roses over it, along with garter belts and a pair of black thigh highs. You get her all fixed up and dolled up. “There’s a pretty girl.” You put your thumb and middle finger on either side of her chin. “I can’t wait to have you screaming later.” You tease as you grab a little lacey red and black collar for her to match that you put on her, a little tag hanging from it that says ‘Property of  Y/N/N’ 

“Y/N/N?” Wanda questions.

“My nickname. It feels more personal than one that has my Domme title. Besides, I have like six that I rotate through. My nickname is always permanent.” You explain, and her biting her lip and blushing doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

��≈≈

“Y/N, Miss. Romanoff wants you on stage for a solo.” MJ, Natasha’s ‘assistant’ tells me, you internally and externally groan, rolling your neck. You're about to throw a tantrum when Tasha rounds the corner, giving you her signature look.

“Yeah, no. I’m having none of your attitude after ghosting us for a week. You’ll go up there, and you WILL have a good time. You’ll show your pet just how much fun solos can be. Do I make myself clear? Unless you want a punishment tonight?” Tasha asks, and it just makes you want to groan more. She grabs your face tightly, nails digging in, making you hiss. You aren't in the head space for that as you pull away. 

“Okay Tasha I get it. I’m not in a sub state of mind, so can you lay off.” You bite at her. Tasha was your oldest friend. Older than Kate and who you met in high school. Tasha and you go back to diapers, which is why she puts up with your bullshit at times and other times knowing when you need to be put in your place. Tasha and you have fucked around, you have for years, it was always a good time when you needed to not think for six or more hours.

“Then act like it. I set up your Playlist.” 

“Okay fine. Let’s go, pet.” You tug on the leash that is attached to the collar around her neck. When you get in front of the stage, you turn to Wanda. “Sit.” She sits front and center on the floor. “Good girl. Watch me.” 

“Who’s ready for some good entertainment!?” You call out, you're back to the crowd as they roar back as ‘Hey Look Ma, I Made it’ starts playing, and you're taking over the stage. Suddenly, you're a whole other person. Captivating everyone, locking eyes, you dance and sing around. Next plays ‘Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off’ and you smirk, looking at Wanda as you crawl over to her. So long as you don’t pull her up on the stage it’s still a solo performance. Tasha doesn’t have rules about involving audience members so long as they don’t come on the stage.

You fuck with her almost the whole song as you move around, touching yourself, moaning out as the crowd roars, money finding it’s way to the stage as you practically get yourself off in front of them. As the song crescendos, you feel an orgasm rack through your body as you lock eyes with Wanda, watching her squirm, thighs so tightly pressed against each other, and you smirk at her as your performance ends. Collecting your earnings and bowing as you get off the stage, grabbing Wanda’s leash and pulling her. 

“Let’s go. Now.” You pull her back to your dressing room, locking the door behind you. “Strip. Now.” She seems taken aback by it as you start taking off the little clothes you had left after your performance. She starts doing the same, and once you're both undressed, you push her back onto the bed in your dressing room. Moving yourself between her thighs, which are covered in her juices, you can smell her, and you feel hazy from how good she smells. Without asking you dive right in, letting your tongue swipe over her folds as she moans out, you moan out at how good she tastes, so fucking sweet,

“Ah! M-Mommy!” You flick both your tongue and your eyes up at her. Watching as her face twists in pleasure, expertly working your tongue over her and sucking on her clit. “Please...”

“Please what?” 

“Please fuck me.” you smirk at her words.

“Oh you can do better than that pet. Go on, beg for it.”

“Please Mommy fuck me with your fingers! Please fill me up with your fingers and make me cum until I can’t think!” you do as asked and push two fingers inside making her moan out as she grabs your hair, rutting against your face as you lay your tongue out flat for her to ride against as you pump your fingers in her. “F-Faster..Harder...” She’s whimpering and so you add a third finger making it a little harder to move as her walls clench around your slender digits. 

“Oh good girl, so tight for Mommy. Are you going to cum from Mommy’s fingers?” 

“Yes Mommy!”

“Did you enjoy my performance pet?”

“Yes Mommy!”

“Did you want to touch yourself when you saw me like that?” 

“Yes Mommy! I wanted to touch myself. I wanted to crawl on stage and eat you and please you and...ah...Mommy.” Her words sent fire to your core. 

“Cum.” you tell her and moments later she’s unraveling in front of you. A moaning, whimpering, mewling mess. “Good girl...so good for Mommy.” you lick up what you can off your face, moaning once more at the taste as you move up, brushing your thumb across her bottom lip, “Open.” She opens her mouth allowing your fingers inside as she looks you in the eye, cleaning them. “Mmmm fuck...” you felt that familiar feeling in your chest as your eyes bore into each other, the feelings she was sending through you. You knew what this was and you don’t think you've ever fallen faster.

“More?” you laugh a bit at her request.

“Oh you’ll get plenty during our performance, pretty girl. Don’t worry Mommy’s going to take good care of you.”

≈≈≈

When Wanda stood, she was taller than you, which meant on stage she'd be kept on her knees. You made sure she had on knee pads since we'd be performing for over an hour. 

“Hello out there to all you lovely people! Welcome to the last performance of the night here at The Red Room!” Of course, there were some people making disheartening noises. “Don't you worry my pet and I will make sure that this is a performance you can go home later and think about while you fuck yourselves!” you call out as you get things ready. “Now my pet is new. It is her first performance tonight. Shall I go easy on her?” A roar of no's came from the crowd. “Well I'm glad it's not up to you. I'm going to give her everything she wants and needs. When I'm done with her she's going to be a dumb slut with no thoughts.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth, signaling Wanda to come out, crawling as she makes her way to me. Before your performance you told her to keep her eyes on you unless you told her otherwise. Mostly to help with her nerves. When she got to your legs she nuzzled into them. Yoi ran your fingers through her hair. 

“I'd like everyone to meet my new pet to those who didn't get the opportunity earlier. She's a sweet little plaything, and I'm going to break her so good before your eyes tonight.” You look down at Wanda and smile as you grip her hair, pulling as she mewls. You loved hearing her sounds. She looked up at you, eyes already blown with lust just from the eyes on her. 

You get her up on the bed we have up on the stage. It has this amazing bathroom blanket for any messes that are made, which is amazing. 

“Strip.” She does as told, taking off her lingerie set you put her in, leaving her in only your collar, you smiled down at her. “Tão bonita.(So beautiful)” You speak in Portuguese, which throws her off momentarily, not knowing what you've said to her. 

You grab the ropes and start tying her up expertly. Doing your signature pentagram harness, whispering as you tighten the ropes down her arms, “Are you comfortable?” 

“Yes Mommy.” You smile and kiss her neck, nibbling and making sure you mark her up. She's yours. No one else is taking her from you.

You have her kneeling for you, back arched perfectly as the vibrator sits against her clit and you pound into her with your 8 inch strap. “Who are you?” you ask, grabbing her hair, pulling her against your chest. 

“Mommy’s dumb little cock slut!” She cries out. You’ve been edging her for just about an hour. Every time she's come close you stop everything and whisper sweet nothings in her ears. All the makeup she's put on is ruined and staining her cheeks from the tears in her eyes. “You look so cute when you cry, amor.” 

“M-Mommy please…can't take n’more. Cum Mommy?” She was begging and mewling as you left marks over her back. You push all 8 inches back inside, bottoming out as you push her face down into the mattress. 

“My fucking slut wants to cum?” you ask.

“Yes! Yes, Mommy! Please! Please, Mommy! Wan’cum on Mommy's cock!”

“Go on slut. Cum all over my cock.” Wanda cums on your command, shaking intensely as she squeezes so tight it's hard to move, but the friction is enough to get you off. “F-fuck!” you moan out as you bottom out inside her and rutt against her as she collapses beneath you. Completely engulfed in subspace as I slowly pull out of her. 

“Thank you, everyone. I hope you enjoyed my pet's first performance and any further tips are always appreciated.” You say with a bow as various customers and clients leave us tips on the stage. You leave Steve, who cleans up the stage between performances to clean it up as you untie Wanda, the rope marks deep in her skin, more marks from me. You toss aside the strap after the curtain has closed and pick Wanda up. She's taller than you, but you're strong enough to do this much as you take her back to your dressing room. Laying her down on your bed as you grab comfy clothes of sweatpants and a baggy shirt for her. Throwing leggings and a sweatshirt on yourself, not bothering with anything else for us besides shoes. “Let's go to my house, amor. Can you walk?” You ask, and she nods, but almost falls when she tries to stand on her own. “I've got you. Come on, let's go get you that aftercare.” You have your arm around her waist as you walk out.

You set Wanda up on your countertop as she figured out a recipe to make and you counted out your tips dividing it in half.

“Here you go, amor. Your half.” You hand it to her, 

“How much is it?” She asks, eyes coming off the screen as she looks at the wad I'm handing her.

“$750. Don't expect it every time. Our performance was new, and people were excited. I've had nights where I only make $50. Either way, though, just remember that there's always tomorrow.” You tell her.

“Y/N?” 

“hmm?” 

“How long have you done this for?” She asks, and you notice how she is now coming back fully as she looks around your penthouse. 

“10 years.” 

“How old are you?”

“28. I've been doing this since I was 18. Natasha and I go way back to being in diapers. Our parents were friends growing up. Tasha is a few years older than me and established the club while I finished up high school. Once I turned 18, she let me join the club.” Wanda nodded, listening.

“How many-”

“Too many. I'd rather not think about that, okay, amor?” You had cut her off. You didn't want to think about past partners. All you wanted was her at this moment. 

You move between her legs, kissing gently over the marks you've left on her neck. “I only want to think about you right now.” You admit against her neck, and you feel her relax.

“I'm okay with that.” You smiled against her neck. 

“How about we make some pasta? I've got a carb craving right now.” you ask, looking up at her. Though I'd be dominant all night, looking up at her from between her legs just felt right. 

“Sounds good to me.” She cupped your cheeks and leaned down, pulling you up so your lips met, and you melted a bit. She was perfect.

The two of you were curled up on your couch watching sitcoms. You had found out they were Wanda's favorites. You were lying down. You were laying on her mainly because she pulled you in this way. “Shhh I wanna hold you.” Had been her response, and you didn't argue with her. Laying here with your head on her chest, hearing her heartbeat as she gently scratched my scalp eventually lulled you to sleep.

[rqgnarok]

standing ovation - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 2321

warnings: mentions of jamie’s dad and DV, spoilers for ted lasso’s mom city. reader uses female pronouns. 

summary: reader sneaks into training grounds after richmond’s win against man city. seeing her is just what jamie needs. 

author’s note at the end!

There’s something in the air.

Jamie’s pretty sure Will sprayed some lavender shit all over the locker room again but that’s not quite what he means– he’s said goodbye to every single one of his teammates and all the coaches– and the locker room is now his and his alone. He locks away his dad’s ghost by locking up his phone, the simple message doing wonders to finish lifting that weight off his shoulders.

He wasn’t at the game. Or maybe he was, Jamie realizes now that it doesn’t really matter. A part of him will never stop looking over his shoulder whenever he visits his hometown for his dickwad of a father, but the older, bigger part of him knows Coach was right– his motivation doesn’t come from hating his dad anymore and it doesn’t have to. His forgiveness is for himself, for the little boy that had to build a mask to save himself from his dad, and for the man he is today because of him– and because of his mum, Keeley, Roy, Ted, his teammates–

The standing ovation at the end was more of a benediction than he’d like to admit. Everything about his hometown made him feel prickly; like he was a virus the town was doing its best to reject, and other than his quick visit to his mom Jamie expected the whole thing to be a disaster. The kids on the street, the people on social media, the rude assholes in the bleachers– Jamie thought that was all he was gonna get. Blind, thoughtless hatred despite Jamie trying his best.

He remembers Roy getting a standing ovation on his last game, while Jamie was still wearing Man City blue. He’d been appalled, unable to discern the possibility of someone hating you so much they respected you. All he’d ever gotten– from his dad, rival teams, his own team– had been everything except respect.

But they’d clapped for him. They thought him deserving of something precious and somehow it feels like permission. He can play for himself. He can come home without his dad’s ghost belittling him for not turning out the way he expected him to. 

Even Manchester hasn’t been home in a long time. Sure, his mom and Simon are there, but Richmond has his family, too– his friends, his teammates, his–

“Excuse me, I’m looking for my boyfriend. 5’9 not quite 6 foot, sexy as hell, the most fantastic football player to ever walk on Earth?”

Jamie’s lips involuntarily twist up as he glances at the door. (Y/N)’s a sight wearing her Richmond TARTT jersey, looking disheveled and flushed like the rest of the city probably is right now after their win tonight. 

Jamie doesn’t give a shit about the rest of the city, though. At least not right now. He cares about his girl sneaking in (with Keeley and Roy’s permission and advice, probably) to see him, normal sleep schedule be damned. 

He laughs, loud and unrestrained joy lighting up his features as he hobbles towards his girlfriend, letting himself be enveloped in a crush-tight embrace.

“Did ya watch it?” he wonders, forgoing his usual shy demeanor whenever (Y/N) praises him and just allowing his excitement to overflow, arms going around (Y/N)’s waist and hoisting her off the ground.

“Did I watch it, he asks,” (Y/N) scoff is downplayed by her big grin and the way she wraps her arms around Jamie’s neck as he spins her around, fucked up ankle be damned. “I couldn’t take my fucking eyes off of you, Jamie, oh, my God–”

She’s kissing him deeply, unable to contain her excitement. 

“You’re so fucking brilliant,” she whispers against his mouth, her hands at the nape of his neck making him shiver into her embrace, unable to get enough. “Oh, Jamie, that assist– the entire play for Colin’s goal? Your goal–”

“It was for you,” he tells as he drops her off, cupping her face in his hands and cheeks hurting with how wide he’s smiling. “I couldn’t celebrate but it was for you. For you and me mum, you were with me on the pitch the whole time–”

He stumbles a little as he drops her on the ground and (Y/N) tenses in his arms. She looks him over, suddenly worried. “Oh, shit. Your ankle, dumbass, are you okay? Fuck, did I–”

“Angel,” the nickname has her melting almost immediately just like he thought it would, a five-word weapon he’s never gotten tired of wielding. (Y/N) pouts at him, still concerned, and Jamie can’t have that, he kisses the expression off her face immediately. It should be illegal for her to be sad, no, sir. “‘s not even a sprain. It was probably the panic of bein’ in the same place as me dad, to be honest.”

Something steely flashes through her eyes, there and gone in a second, at the mention of Jamie’s dad. (Y/N)’s never been anything other than kind about it, but Jamie doesn’t doubt she’d beat the old fart up if she were given the chance. 

The thought only makes him smile.

“Did you? See him?” she wonders cautiously. She’s touching him again after her moment of hesitation over his injury, hands doing soothing motions up and down his sides. Jamie fights off a shiver.

“Nah,” he says simply as if the thought of crossing paths with him didn’t have him toeing the line of a panic attack the entire three days they were in Manchester. “I don’t know if he was there, and if he was, I didn’t see him. I don’t think I care anymore. It’s for the best, really.”

(Y/N)’s expression brightens, though they both know they’re not done talking about it. Jamie wishes it could be as easy as turning off his phone and forgetting about his dad, but his skin already itches a little with the idea of getting a text back from him. He’s also no doubt that (Y/N) will hold him throughout it all. 

“I did see me mum.”

“How is my favorite Tartt?” she teases.

“Happy,” Jamie says softly, always the most important thing to consider when it comes to his mother. Ever since he was a toddler and he gained acknowledgment of his dad’s actions; after an especially gruesome argument that ended with his dad breaking a few photo frames and plates, stumbling his way out of the apartment, and slamming the door shut, Jamie would climb on his mom’s lap and wipe her tears as best he could with his tiny clumsy baby fingers. “Yeah, she was real happy. And for me, too. Even before the match, she was happy to see me, happy to… jus’ happy.”

“That’s good, sweetheart,” she threads her fingers through Jamie’s hair to keep it off his face, his headband lost somewhere in his lockers or amongst the rest of the dirty laundry. He’ll have to tell Will to watch out for it, he’s a little attached to it after the night he’s had. 

Jamie’s usually not the one to believe in lucky garments or charms but– well. He feels pretty lucky right now; that (Y/N) saw some worth in him when they met and makes the choice to love him and come home to him, day after day, whatever the outcome may be. 

(Y/N) looks at him adoringly like she knows what he’s thinking. “Did’ya get your wings back, then?”

Jamie grasps her hand in his and turns to kiss the inside of her wrist, only slipping a little bit of tongue. “Nah. They was never gone. All I needed was a little help to see.”

He frowns before (Y/N) can answer. “I was gonna say something stupid like ‘you’re me wings’ but that’s disgusting and I hate it. I would never say something like that. ‘m not Roy.”

(Y/N)’s laugh is surprised and comes deep from her belly. “Are you telling me Roy Kent’s a secret romantic?”

“Big old softie, that tosser,” he rolls his eyes. “He snuck you in for me, didn’t he? That’s all you need to know about–”

(Y/N) shuts him up with a kiss just because she can, and they’re both smiling too hard for it to be a proper one. 

She says “He likes you. He’s proud of you. We’re all so proud of you,” while peppering kisses all over his face, landing on his cheeks, nose, temple, jaw, and corner of his mouth. “You’re so, so good, Jamie, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he says, because there’s not gonna be a single time in which she tells him that and he doesn’t reciprocate. “Mum said that, too. And Keeley and Roy. And Coach, too, I guess, in his own way. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without them.”

“I can’t believe I missed it,” (Y/N) pouts and beats herself up over it for the thousandth time. Jamie presses a kiss to the space between her eyes for the thousandth time in response. “I should’ve been there, I should’ve told my boss to go to hell–” 

“You’re here,” he tells her, shaking her a little by the shoulders and looking her over like he can’t quite believe it. That she’s here in the locker room, in his life, loving him like he’s always desperately wished for but never thought he’d deserve. “What was I gonna do, put my dumb ankle into ice and sit alone in the dark?”

“‘m sure Roy and Keeley would be here drinking champagne with you if I wasn’t here.”

“And what could we be doing that is keeping them away right now?” he raises his brows, sneaking a hand down her back lower, lower, lower–

(Y/N) slaps his chest, though a gleam in her eye tells him she’s not saying no to anything. “You’re…” she drifts off.

He smirks cockily. “Unbelievable?”

(Y/N) shakes her head imperceptively. “Nah. I always knew you could do it. But you’re breathtaking, I’ll give you that. As if your ego needs it.”

Jamie’s mouth softens into a smile, soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) frowns a little at the sudden shift in conversation. “Whatever for?”

“I’ve been a dick these past couple of weeks–”

He had. (Y/N) won’t let him admit it but he wasn’t lying when he told Roy he wasn’t doing well. Not eating, not sleeping, waving off (Y/N)’s concern with a little too cold shoulder. It made him feel a little too much like his dad, and that thought only dragged him further down.

It had been (Y/N) who suggested Jamie pay a visit to his mom while in town for the game, and when he’d mentioned this to her she’d smiled knowingly, ran a hand through his hair, and made him promise an introduction soon. 

“You were anxious,” she corrects him with a shake of the head, won’t let him speak ill of himself when all he did was have a normal, human reaction to a very triggering situation. “And I’ve been worried about you but you don’t have to apologize, Jamie. Not to me, not in a million years.”

“Alright,” he says, soft and charmed. He soothes his thumb over her knuckles, featherlight. He looks down at their intertwined hands for a beat or two, gently swinging them back and forth. “Then can I apologize for shutting you out? I know you were only trying to help. I’ll do better next time at letting you know what I need.”

“And I’ll do better at listening,” she assures him with an indulgent smile, using her free hand to trace the Richmond crest of his shirt. “Look at us, communicating and shit.”

Jamie scrunches his nose in faux disgust. “Gross,” he says, but even the facade is too much to keep up when (Y/N) nudges his nose with hers. His lips tilt upwards against his best intentions, drunk on her presence and something inside his chest brimming with unstirred delight. 

(Y/N) exhales against his mouth. She hasn’t been more than a few inches away from him since she came down to meet him, always touching him.  

“What do you wanna do, huh?” she asks him, pulling at the bottom of his shirt. “Anything you want. We can go get some takeout from that burger place you like or maybe something fancier? We can go home and get some ice on that ankle–”

“It’s nothin’–”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” by that, she means when the team doctor gives him the all clear and he isn’t limping slightly with every step he takes. It’ll take a while but Jamie can take it, especially if any downtime comes with them spending the days together. She makes a questioning hum. “But we can do that tomorrow, then. Tonight, whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”

And Jamie does feel like a winner. Not only because of the three points they managed to steal from Man City but because he gets to come home to this. He gets to leave his dad behind in Manchester and his mom in safe hands, he gets to accomplish his dream for himself and the people that love him instead of trying to prove someone who hurt him wrong. 

He gets to live for himself. Coach Lasso was right, him forgiving his father was the kindest thing he could do for himself. 

“I want this,” he murmurs against her temple, breathing in the smell of her perfume and taking in the warmth of her body against his. “I got all I need right here.”

(Y/N) smiles and crowds even closer, pressing a kiss to his jaw. 

A beat. Then–

“So that’s a no for a quickie in the locker room, then?”

(Y/N)’s laugh tastes like a standing ovation.

_________

precious little jamiebaby i hope i did you justice ily

i was ready to make an angsty peace about him but mom city left me craving to give him a moment of peace so ta-da! thank you so much for reading and letting me know what you think!

a reminder that commissions and asks are open!

<3

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

[1800titz]

I’M IN MY PRIME | Best friend's dad

age gap. 4.8K on patreon

Third and final part to LIQUID SMOOTH & COME TOUCH ME TOO

Fucking an older man feels like every ugly, broken part of you shuddering to the surface. Buoying, dredged up from his broad hand on your shoulder, lugging you down to meet his pelvis in a wet slap. It feels… Heavy. Overwhelming. Raw— your rim smarts on the sheer stretch, and every bludgeon into you (you, being yanked back to envelop the root of his cock, again, and again, and again) feels like it’s cudgeling something sharp and deep. Bruising something awful. And you like it. Chase it, the same way you’ve been chasing him. Because when he resorts to softer grinds, just as deep, and palms at the sides of your skull, thumbs prying into the soft flesh under your cheekbones, with his fingers interlocking in the gentle arch of your nape— And he holds you like that, by the back of your neck, by your face, all withered adoration, lust in worn fatigue, it feels like he’s piecing you back together. Like he can cup his hands around you and make you whole. Your lower lip quakes. “There you go,” Harry tells you, hardly over a whisper (a rasp in ironclad passion), like he’s breaking with every rut, like this moment— fragile, flimsy— will break apart in his hands if he speaks any louder, “There you fucking go. Take it, baby. Just like that.”

preview

You don’t ask him about nice boys. What he meant about nice boys, and what it means for him now. Now, that you��re naked, and bare, and sweaty, stretched across his chest, tracing ink and freckles with your fingertip like coasting the shape of a foreboding asterism. 

Those constellations, spelled out in the horoscopes, on a webpage that was laid out like it was scraped straight off the wayback machine from the windows 2000 era, made your brain rot for years. Cheap, flimsy justification in the shade of cobalt blue and the distant sister of comic sans. You always reverted to the same page because it told you the pretty things you needed to hear, or rather, gave you enough space to pick out what you wanted to see; digging diamonds out of kimberlites. Because the brecciated rock was the bigger picture, maybe— mundane, aversive, your eyes listed, gnawing into the core— but if you picked in enough—

It doesn’t matter anymore. Not with his heartbeat humming in your ear like a perfect iambic pentameter. An unspoken love sonnet. 

(Your naked leg slotted over his bare thigh tells you as much.)

He laughs when you roll your hip forward and grind your wet cunt into the smattering of hair there. Your slick coagulates against his thigh. He feels it, and gives you this low, airbrushed sound in the hummingbird angel choir rippling across the little, vibrating bones in your ear. You hear it under his soft chest before you hear it from his mouth. Then, he tells you something about his knees not being what they used to be. 

Don’t start. Don’t start again— 

You feel like you’ve got your fingers on a winding key. You’re playing with cinders. Rolling live coal in your palms, but you’re waiting for the firework of the blaze reigniting. Waiting for the gear to click. That’s what love is, isn’t it? Push and pull. 

(You wonder if he’ll break. If the flame will swallow you whole, if you’ll hump his leg like a pitiful dog long enough, and he’ll lug you over his lap to bounce you dumb all over on his fat cock again. You wonder if he’ll give in when your knees start to ache.)

Undying devotion doesn’t get crushed under a maelstrom, never mind under a coasting cumulonimbus. You rock your hips a little, more into him, against him, so he knows you don’t care about his knees, or what they used to be, so he doesn’t think that you regret the disconnect in timelines; that yours didn’t overlap with his, enough, to indulge in what his knees used to be.

(You think you’re getting somewhere when he shifts his thigh against you, rigid musculature, granting you access to a better ride. And you wonder if, instead, he’ll mistake your placation for misbehavior. The thought knocks something ugly and wanting up from the settled sediment of your hunger.)

[regencyrosalie]

biblically accurate modern!husband!anthony hc’s 🤍

first post here ! <3 i hope u love it <3

- anthony “i love my wife” bridgerton trying to go about his daily life when he quite literally wants to stay in bed all day with you.

- anthony is THE lightest sleeper on earth. if you get up at night, you’ll come back to the bedroom and hes just sitting up in bed half asleep like 🧍🏻‍♂️

- speaking of, if you even want to get up, you’ll have to wriggle out of his death grip. he will hold onto you throughout the entire night, and if it’s hot, he’ll make sure to have a hand sprawled across the bed onto you.

- sometimes you have to remind him to back off a little because he genuinely acts like you might die every time you leave the house

- insists you call/text him (preferably call) when you arrive at at wherever you’re going so he know you didn’t get hit by a car or something on the way there

- speaking of, Anthony texts like he he does not understand what a phone is.

- quite literally really only uses his dad’s old desk phone and emails. he owns an iphone 7 that is usually sitting in the back of his bedside drawer for days at a time.

- he loves all of his siblings equally, but Hyacinth has him wrapped around her finger at all times.

- will do pretty much anything for his wife, but is much more firm with his siblings.

- which is why every time they need something and you aren’t around, Hyacinth is sent to give him her best puppy eyes. he folds almost instantly every time without fail.

- genuinely does not really have many “friends” that aren’t also family. he used to in college, but he just doesn’t find it necessary anymore, and also doesn’t have the time.

- he has reading glasses. enough said.

- scared of bugs.

- talks about pretty much everything with Benedict, who he’s probably closest with in his family besides his mother.

- used to play with/take care of Hyacinth as a baby when Violet was grieving.

- sometimes struggles to pronounce big words when he’s arguing and it pisses him off so much he has to leave the room.

- likely has most of his siblings set up with a therapist, but doesn’t get one for himself until his wife tells him to.

- all of his spaces are organized meticulously, usually by color or number order.

- will check to make sure every door to the house is locked at least three times before going to bed.

- which can take up to an hour when staying at Aubrey Hall.

- we all see how he softened in season 3. his siblings tease him about it sometimes, but they’re all delighted. and he couldn’t care less. he thinks he is the luckiest man on earth and rolls his eyes every time he thinks of how angsty he was.

- if you have children, he’s the most loving father in the world. will wear a tutu if the need arises.

- he can’t have you in his office for more than thirty minutes or he gets distracted.

- he didn’t cry for years after his dad died, and now he cries about once a month.

- most animals love him for some reason.

- has nightmares relatively frequently after edmund dies, but they die down as he gets older.

- favorite color is navy blue. changes to light blue once he’s married.

- good with babies and toddlers from when hyacinth was little.

- you make him take breaks while he works everyday, and they become his favorite parts of the day. you bring him tea and sit in his lap and pet his hair, sometimes he falls asleep. he tells you to wake him up but you never do.

- still uses an alarm clock.

- refuses to leave bed until ten am every day.

- smells like sandalwood and cinnamon.

- idk why but i feel like he fucking LOVES sudoku puzzles.

- but dont ever ask him to do a real puzzle thats more than 50 pieces or he may start crying.

- type of mf to read actual newspapers.

- no one in the family has serious allergies, but he still keeps an epi pen everywhere just in case.

[whore4abby]

cookies 2; dbf!abby anderson

part 1

warnings; older!abby, smut - fingering (r!recieving), masturbating (reader), mdni

wc; 1.5k

secrets and side-eyes;

she’s your dad’s best friend for fucks sake, you shouldn't be feeling this way about a woman 20 years older than you, but yet here you are silently pining after her and avoiding her like the damn plague that you’re desperate not to catch. staying cooped up in your room with the lame excuse of ‘homework’ whenever she came over to watch a game with your dad. catching glimpses of her as you leave the safe confinements of your bedroom and sneak down to the kitchen to get a glass of water, your heart almost stopping and you eyes widening immediately when she makes eye contact, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face, showing her delight in making you flustered.

abby looks up at you and raises an eyebrow as she sees you walk into the living room, ”hey, honey~” she says casually, but there’s an undertone of something more in her voice. she leans forward and places her elbows on her knees, her blown-out eyes trail down your body hungrily. a hint of a cocky smirk curls at the corner of her lips. the sexual tension between you two is extremely evident and you can’t help but squirm a little under her gaze as her eyes linger on you for a little too long.

“hey…abby….” you try and speak as nonchalantly as possible, but the words seem to snag in your throat as she’s practically undressing you with her eyes, probably thinking about bending you over the nearest counter and fucking you dumb until you can’t walk straight.

“come and watch a movie with us…” your dad doesn’t seem to notice abby staring and smiles happily. he’s sitting in his trusty old, leather la-z-boy recliner, leaving you no other choice but to sit next to abby on the tiny beige two seater sofa. fuck that. you have better things to do than to endure some mind-numbingly shitty movie for the rest of the night.

“dad i would love to, but…i got stuff to work on…” you sigh softly in frustration, talking in a mildly exasperated tone as you're absolutely insistent on not sitting next to abby. but you truly would rather work on a bullshit project than sit beside her for two hours.

“cmon, kiddo….i hardly spend time with you anymore.” your dad looks at you with a hint of sadness showing on his face and you can’t help but feel a wave of guilt. because its true, being so busy with college and the relentless studying and countless assignments doesn't leave you much time to spend with him these days.

“ugh…fine…”your shoulders slump in defeat and you pout as you walk over to sit beside abby. you squeeze in next to her, her thick thighs pressing into yours as she manspreads even further, obviously getting a kick out of this.

you instinctively reach for a nearby fuzzy blanket to cover up your bare thighs, mentally cursing yourself for wearing such small pyjama shorts in front of her. abby notices you trying to cover up your legs and a smug, knowing smile spreads across her lips, she crosses her arms and leans back into the couch, pushing her knees out even further and bumping them into your legs which only heightens the ongoing tension between the both of you.

you catch onto her act but don’t acknowledge her subtle clues at all, choosing to continue watching the television quietly. after a little while you can feel the weight of her gaze on you again and you turn your head slightly to look at her curiously from the corner of your eye and see her staring at you intently, almost as if she’s studying you somehow.

you turn your head fully and your eyes lock with hers but you don't say anything as your father is still in the room and it makes things unbearably awkward. but despite the growing tension, abby doesn't give a single fuck that he's sitting right there as she slips her hand under the blanket and traces an intricate pattern with her fingertips across the flesh of your thighs.

“you're so naughty… letting me touch you like this while your daddy's in the room~” she whispers into your ear as she slips her hand beneath your soft cotton shorts. you’re thankful for your dad being utterly engrossed in the movie and the booming sound effects making it impossible for anyone but you to hear her words but you still feel so embarrassed of the way your body is reacting to her lewd touch.

the crotch of your shorts is practically sopping wet by the time she gets her hands to where you need her most. she smirks when she feels that you aren't wearing any panties, this new revelation seeming to amuse her. she ever so slightly brushes the pad of her middle finger across your clit, making you bite your lip harshly to stop yourself from making any noise.

she continues to tease you, rubbing tiny circles over your clit before dragging her fingers down through your folds to thrust into your soaked slit, before dragging them back out, evoking a gasp from you.

this back and forth continues for what feels like forever until you're so wet its almost dripping down your thighs and you have to resist the urge to start bucking your hips up into her. the movie quickly comes to an end and she reluctantly drags her hand out of your shorts and rests it back on her own leg. her fingers are still shiny with your slick, glistening in the dim light, your eyes widen as she subtly puts them in her mouth to suck them clean with an air of pride.

you quickly spring up from your seat as soon as the credits start rolling, “i’m really tired, i’m sorry…” you lie, adding in a faux yawn to hopefully fool your dad into letting you leave. your father looks over at you and nods, “of course, you should go to bed. i’ll see you in the morning.” you smile and say your goodnights to both your dad and abby before retreating back up the stairs. the stickiness on your inner thighs reminding you of the feeling of abby’s hand on your cunt just mere minutes ago.

you quickly close your bedroom door behind you, relishing in the silence and security. the room is cozy, decorated with soft colors, from the lavender walls, to the soft white sheets on your comfy bed with plushies and various stuffed animals sitting neatly against the fluffy throw pillows.

you walk over to your bed and collapse down onto it, the lingering wetness of your shorts pressing against your throbbing pussy. you close your eyes in an attempt to calm yourself down, but it's no use. your body is still hot and trembling from all the excitement that abby had brought upon you. and as much as you try to ignore it, that familiar ache between your thighs keeps growing stronger and harder to ignore by the minute, leaving you helplessly longing for a release.

you hand drifts down into your shorts to slowly touch yourself, the memories of what happened earlier still floating around in your mind. your shaky fingers glide over your pussy, still soaked from all the attention abby gave you. barely audible moans leave your lips as you rub through your delicate folds before mimicking the rhythmic movements of abby’s fingers on your clit. your mind is filled with nothing but dirty thoughts about abby and it makes it harder to resist your orgasm.

your breathing becomes ragged and your hips buck up involuntarily, seeking more of the delicious friction that’s pushing you over the edge. your fingers start to move faster, frantically rubbing across your swollen clit and it isn't long before you're cumming, covering your mouth to muffle your whimpers and desperately refraining from crying out her name.

thinking only of the lingering and vivid memory of abby's fingers inside you and how good they stretched you out as you bite your lip and come down from your high, still feeling so aroused but so ashamed at the same time. you feel like such a pervert for thinking about abby this way but she seems so comfortable in this new situationship that’s unfolded between the two of you and it's as if all the existing boundaries been completely erased since that odd afternoon in the kitchen.

you get into bed with a strange sense of guilt lingering over you as you close your eyes tightly, as if trying to forget about everything that happened between the two of you. you lay there staring at the ceiling for a while, the experiences with abby feeling so surreal almost dream-like, and you’re not even quite sure how to process it all.

all you know for sure is that this changes everything between the two of you and it exceeds way beyond a fleeting infatuation or a silly crush on your end.

[spacedace]

Damian doesn't know who Santa Claus is and Danny tries to gaslight him into believing in Santa

Okay but, like, wouldn't even be gaslighting! Santa canonically does exist in the DC universe, I think I remember reading something about him fighting through an army in hell to give Darkseid a single piece of coal once?

So like, Danny doesn't have to gaslight Damian into believing Santa's real, he just has to pull out the proof (Danny has a binder of everything he knows about the Spirit of Christmas for the purpose of when he eventually goes to war with him, Danny hates Christmas so fucking much haha) and show him evidence that Santa is real.

Probably ranting the entire time about how much he hates the guy & Christmas and it's obvious that this is Danny's arch nemesis. His one true villain above all others. Pariah Dark? A nuisance. Dark Dan? Just a tuesday. Santa? That motherfucker is the bane of Danny's existence and he will pay for what he's done (spread Christmas cheer).

And Danny's the newest member to the family. Damian's been encouraged to get to know his new brother and try and bond with him a bit, make him feel like part of the family. So, obviously, the best way to do that is to help Danny in his quest for vengeance.

And of course Tim & Jason end of getting roped in on this. Damian's grown since he's first came to live with his father. He still is a little brat to his older brothers - he's the baby of the family it's his right - but he doesn't actively hate them anymore and can admit when their particular skills would be useful. Tim is the best at strategizing, and Jason is a combat master with access to all sorts of weapons. With all of them working together Santa has no chance, they will destroy him.

Which all just makes me think of something like this happening lol:

“What…uh, what are they doing?” Duke glanced between the chaos unfolding in the family room to where Dick was calmly seated in his favorite chair, sipping idly at a cup of coffee.

“Sibling bonding.” Dick said. There was that specific aura of calm around him that said that he’d already gone through several crisis and all the stages of grief at least twice. Considering the calamity and chaos the eldest batkid had seen over the years - and especially the last few months since Bruce officially adopted Danny and brought him into the fold - it was a bad sign that he’d reached this particular state of Done (TM) before noon. The earliest Dick even woke up was two in the afternoon.

Duke contemplated turning around right then and there - the particular combination of people all excitedly feeding off each other’s feral energy on the other side of the room was a catastrophe in the making he didn’t want to be anywhere near when it finally breached containment and spilled out into the wider world - but unfortunately he was cursed with the curiosity that afflicted all members of the bat clan.

“It looks like they’re plotting to try and kill Santa Claus.”

Dick turned to look at Duke fully for the first time since he’d entered the room. He had the eyes of one that was deeply haunted by the horrors they had witnessed. On the other side of the room Tim was ranting about anti-magic tech while Danny, Damian and Jason argued over what weapons would be most effective against a demi god. There were schematics of what looked worryingly like a rocket launcher looking device that - if the scribbles on the whiteboard someone had drug into the room where to be believed - was going to be rigged to shoot ecto-grenades.

“Danny hates Christmas.” Dick said, and Duke noticed for the first time that his hands around the coffee cup were faintly trembling. “He’s declared Santa is his arch nemesis.”

Duke blinked, glancing over to the others long enough to see Danny start frantically scribbling the words Christmas Nuke on the whiteboard. No one else was trying to erase it. Tim looked worriedly contemplative. Damian and Jason where both nodding in agreement.

He was going to regret this. “But Santa isn’t real?”

Dick’s eyes gained a faintly manic glean, and Duke could faintly hear the sound of porcelain creaking warningly beneath the desperate hold he had on his coffee cup. “That’s what I thought!” Dick said, with enough cheer to make Duke flinch back instinctively. “But apparently he is.” A distinct crack appeared in the cup, coffee dripping down into Dick’s lap. “And apparently they’re going to war with him!”

Well, Duke considered, at least that explained why he caught the four of them burning down the giant Christmas tree in the city center last night.

[jade-jini]

could i request my loser gp!sakura who keeps getting a hard on during rehearsels because of seeing reader doing the throwing it back move in Perfect Night 😓 and ofc reader has to helo help!!! duh!!!

(Pervert Sakura is a popular favorite am I right or am I right yall?)

Sakura looking at you like this as you kept practicing the same moves over and over again ‘cause you couldn’t seem to get them right. At first she was just cheering you up, calling your name and clapping so you could feel supported and motivated by her as the good member and unnie she was<3 but when you were throwing it back -

Even after you got that part perfect, she kept telling you to work on it ‘cause “you weren’t there yet”, she’d say while discreetly fixing her boner in her shorts. What a good unnie, even offering to stay with you when everybody else left so you wouldn’t be alone practicing :((. Whole time she just loved how you moved and wanted to watch you without the risk of the other members and the choreographer catching her. Having to constantly check she wasn’t drooling ‘cause she kept staring at you with her mouth open like a dumbass 😭. Telling you she was gonna help you fix your posture, but it was just an excuse to get her hands on you, rubbing herself against your ass hoping you wouldn’t notice it ‘cause she wanted that feeling in her brain for later on that night when she gets home and touches herself thinking about you.

But Ofc you noticed, girlie was hard af, and too much of a stupid pervert to realize she was being too obvious.

“Unnie, what’s that?” You said, trying to turn around to see what was it that was poking your low back lmao

“W-what’s what?” She asked, trying her best to sound calm.

“I think your belt is hurting me wait”

“No! y/n wait-” she argued, trying to stop you from turning around, she didn’t need one of her members knowing how dirty minded she is :( but as you guys struggled a bit, she fell on her ass. With her hands still on your waist, she took you with her, making you fall seated on her lap. “Oh fuck..” she groaned, the pressure on her cock hurting but not in the bad way at all.

“Oh God, unnie I’m so sorry, are you ok?” You asked her, worried that you might have hurt her since the sounds she was making made it seem like it.

“Hmm y/n wait, stay like that please…” Sakura practically begged, starting to lose a grip on herself, having you so close to her like this making her forget she couldn’t just have you without making sure you were ok with it first. Her hands firm on your body stopping you from getting up. Her behavior got you a little confused, did you actually hurt her? If you did she would’ve tried to get you off her, right?

“What? Kkura unnie are you sure you’re ok? And what’s this on your pocket that keeps poking my leg-” you moved a bit just to give your hand enough space to check what was it on Sakura’s pants, and stopped when you realized. How stupid were you not to think about that possibility before. Sakura gulped, both ‘cause of the contact of your hand with her member, and because you caught her in such an embarrassing state. She was a little scared, what if you were disgusted by it? What if you didn’t wanna be friends with her anymore? What if you tell the others? Oh god, how would this affect the whole group? A million thoughts running through her head, while her other head stayed hard as a rock. However, you were everything but disgusted by this.

“So that’s why you kept telling me to continue practicing, huh?” You said, teasing her neck with your nose, your breath causing shivers on the older girl. “Tell me, unnie. When did I actually get it right, hm? For how long you kept me going just ‘cause you wanted to see me?”

“y/n, I-I’m sorry. I really am, I didn’t mean to-” she started apologizing, her voice trembling.

“Shh, it’s ok. You’re already having a hard time right now anyways, aren’t you?” You asked her, your voice softening as your eyes moved to her covered member. “Does it hurt, unnie?”

She didn’t say anything, she just nodded while her eyes followed yours, ashamed to look at you.

“Then I guess I should help you.”

“Eh?!” Sakura asked looking at you so fast with eyes wide open, not sure if she could trust her ears.

“Oh please, don’t act silly now. We both know this is what you wanted, right?” She nodded again, her face red. “Then let me be good and help my unnie. She helped me enough today with my practicing, right? It’s just compensating.”

And that’s how you ended up sucking her dick while she was seated with her back against the wall, the mirror in front of you guys as she enjoyed looking at you from time to time. Sakura’s cock was so sensitive though, that with every lick your tongue gave it she left out whimper after whimper. The tip turning from a pinkish to a more red color, you couldn’t help but play with it with the tip of your tongue. This making her not know what to do with her hands, they went from rubbing your back as she moaned “so good, baby. So fucking good…” to biting her fingers, to grabbing her own neck slightly with one hand, to her nails scratching the floor and the wall behind her, trying to grab anything while her brain became nothing with the delicious sensation of your mouth on her length. The deeper you got it inside your mouth, the closer you were pushing her to her orgasm.

“Ugh baby I’m so close, just like that…” She asked, her hands grabbing your head and keeping you close, making sure you stay right where you were. “Be good and keep unnie’s cock in your pretty mouth when she cums, ok?” She cooed you, letting you breathe for a few seconds only.

“Yes unnie…” you said, catching your breath as you quickly put her back inside your mouth.

“Good girl, such a good girl.” the older girl moaned, her voice hitting higher tones as she started fucking your mouth. You looked up and felt yourself clenching around nothing as Sakura looked so hot lost in her pleasure. Her eyes closed, biting her lip to try and fail to contain the obnoxious noises coming from her mouth. “Oh my god…” you heard her at the same time that thick ropes of cum went down your throat, barely allowing any air to enter but you didn’t care at all, you felt so good knowing it was your Sakura unnie using you like this. Knowing she was this horribly horny just ‘cause she watched you dancing.

You swallowed everything Kkura gave you, and when the grip on your head got loose, you finally took her cock off your mouth. When you sat next to her, she was still not there, clearly. Processing her orgasm, she just sighed and whispered “thank you..” and Omg she just looked so cute, with her hair all messy and her facial features clean of makeup and relaxed. You just giggled “anytime, unnie~” and kissed her cheek before resting on her shoulder, hoping practice becomes this interesting next time soon.

Ngl I went back to watch the dance performance and I got distracted🧍🏻‍♀️

[aurorawhisperz]

that’s what you get (e.l.)

contains: swearing, suggestive content, fluff, richie exists..

neighbor!ethan landry x fem!reader

a/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE TROPES NOW IM GONNA BE POSTING MORE BY JULY 🦅🦅🦅 ethan is a bit of a meanie in this but he’s still little old him (maybe just gf ethan persona)

some tropes i used are: enemies to lovers, girl next door, forced proximity and best friend’s brother 🙏 (yk allat shit LOL) THERE WILL BE A PART 2!!

•

You knew for a fact that Quinn Bailey was your best friend—what made it even better is that you two could communicate through your windows, but one thing you also knew is that you didn’t like her brother, Ethan, he was your age, Quinn was older than you both. He would sometimes cut into your ‘girl talk’ since his room was right beside hers.

“Dammit!” You said as you banged on the door roughly. Your parents weren’t going to be home until tomorrow morning for something important, and you had left your keys inside the house. To make it even worse, it was raining.

A familiar voice startles you and has you snap out of all that stress. “(Name)?” says Quinn, covering herself with a blanket. I think it’s pretty obvious what she was doing just now.

“Quinn!” You called from below, your eyes widen at the sight of her covered body by the window. “I’ll..get back to you! Damn..” You hear her say something to an impatient guy, something about helping a friend—obviously that friend was you.

A few minutes later, she runs out in pink slip-ons and a purple nightgown with an umbrella. “Need help? Holy shit, you are soaking.” Quinn’s eyes widen at the sight of your outfit ruined. “And cold.” You add, then slamming your fist on the wall, “I left my keys inside.”

“Boo, it’s not that hard to knock on our door.” She chuckles, then you roll your eyes, “And deal with your brothers while you get to bang someone tonight? Yeah, right.” Her eyes then dart and she forces a smile out. “Ethan’s not that bad.”

You frown, “Yes, he is.”

“Baby, you’ll have to deal with it. I can’t stand Richie anymore.” Quinn complains, then she tugs on the sleeve of your wet cardigan to let you inside her ‘humble home.’

Grateful to be out of the pouring rain, the familiar smell of your best friend’s home fills your nostrils.

You both plop down on the plush couch, and she hands you a towel for your wet hair. Quinn then shoots you a playful smile, “Aside from our ‘interventions’, what did baby bro do this time to get on your nerves?” She asks.

“That’s about it, he wants to be the center of attention even when he’s not wanted.” You let out a sigh.

Quinn’s lips curl into a smirk, and she gently places a hand on your shoulder. “He's just trying to be a part of our bond, in his own misguided way. Ethan’s.. different, he’s fucking awkward and stuff but not around us because he’s more comfortable.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding. “I guess I can try to tolerate him a bit more. For you. But he better stay out of our serious conversations.”

Quinn laughs and pulls you into a hug, the warmth of her embrace enveloping you. “That's the spirit! And don't worry, I'll make sure that jackass knows when to give us our space. Besties have their ways, you know.”

“What ways?” says Richie, holding an ‘I LOVE STAB’ coffee mug. You also know for a fact that you hated him more than Ethan—being the movie geek he is, not that it’s bad, it’s how he takes it too far and even gets touchy with others. “Ways to die.” You mutter, staring deep into his damned soul.

He nods nervously and heads back into his room. “Stay in there!” yells Quinn.

Once the silence has dissolved into thin air, she blurts out, “How about that tension?” Your eyes widen, eyebrows pinched together and lips parted in protest. “Sexual tension?” You repeat, your face going pale.

She nods cheekily, “SEXUAL?” You shriek. Quinn laughs at your reaction.

You then hear Quinn’s name from upstairs, “Ooh, priorities.” She avoids your gaze and then drags you back upstairs, “Q, don’t make me a third wheel tonight.” You roll your eyes as her grip on your arm tightens.

•

“What the hell?” is the first thing that comes out of Ethan’s mouth when Quinn pushes you into her room. “Quinn, and you. Get out!” He narrows his eyes. “E, I’ve got a guy waiting for me to go back.”

“Then tell him to fucking leave?” He shakes his head. “You’re a degenerate, you know that?” Ethan shoots back.

“Well, I’m not a virgin, so you don’t get a say in that.” Quinn lets out a corny smile and shakes her head, you can see Ethan gritting his teeth. “Do you want her to deal with Richie then?” She tilts her head slyly.

He sighs, “No.” she raises her hands and continues “That’s what I thought, love you both!” Quinn exits just as Ethan is about to flip her off.

You sit down on Ethan’s beanbag and all he does is stare.

He scoffs, “What brings you into my lair?” He crunches on a cheeto. You obviously refused to let his taunts get under your skin, “Spare me.” You retorted.

Ethan smirks, enjoying your discomfort, “Mighty (name) finds herself in a bit of a predicament, huh?”

“Unlike you, Eth, I don't have the luxury of living in a perfect little bubble where everything goes my way. So excuse me if I need a moment to think.” You tightly clench your fists.

“Can’t we just tolerate each other’s existence only for a little bit?” You complain, Ethan’s mouth turns into an “O” shape and he sarcastically remarks “Who can go the longest without being an asshole? You or me?”

“Me.” You pridefully chuckle. “This starts now.” He declares.

You have never heard silence quite this loud. The only thing you and Ethan have been doing for the past few minutes is stare at each other. Eye language perhaps?

His lips part at the sight of you.

While you did hate Ethan, there was always something telling you otherwise—you’d find yourself looking through his window, and if you timed it right, even got to see his muscles whenever he changes. (And it was hard to keep a straight face when you’d see it during your conversations with Quinn.)

What snaps you out of that thought is Ethan’s scoff, he then turns his head—then his gaze back to you. “It’s so dumb.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows pinch together in the middle, and your lips purse. “You know how Quinn gets to show off her man all she wants and how she’s so freaked out over everything they do—even when she’s..done those things so many times.” says Ethan.

Ethan then shrugs, “It’s just stupid.”, your eyebrows raise in agreement as you bit the inside of your cheek.

While you did hate Ethan, part of you..or most of you was telling you that he wanted you to give in—but give in to what? Being the muscular little thing he is, it’s hard to maintain your sanity when you see him without a shirt through his window. Practically drooling, but of course, you couldn’t let Quinn know.

Mainly because she’s so ‘Quinn’, she would probably tell him.

Behind the thin walls of her bedroom were sounds quite pathetic, you two burst into laughter up to the point where you both were crying.

You put a hand over your heart and leaned back on the beanbag.

“Are they THAT loud?” You ask, “Very.” He chuckles in response, this might be the only conversation you two could call a genuine conversation.

“This is really pervy of us to do, but we don’t have a choice, not like we can tune them out.” says Ethan as he grabs a Marvel plush and sits next to the beanbag you were on.

“It’s not like me and Quinn could tune you out.” You joke. A genuine smile tugs on the corners of Ethan’s plush lips. “Gee, you’re really being nice right now.” Your words laced with sarcasm tumbled out.

You had spent your entire life making sure Ethan would never fall for you, nor would you fall for him—and you failed.

It was like there’s nobody in the world right now but you two.

“Well, it’s part of the game right?” Ethan said, his eyes, half-lidded, looking up at you. “It doesn’t seem that much of a game anymore.” You kept your eyes on him, and he kept his on you as well.

Silence. Just silence. That was how much reality hurt.

This is also the closest you have ever been. There is only inches between you both, and you are close to giving in. Breaking the silence, “Maybe I should leave now, I’m not cold-” Ethan then stops your lips with a kiss. He pulls away and you are left with the sight of him hovering over you on the beanbag.

You kissed him back even longer, yes, you were kissing your enemy. It felt so wrong—but at the same time, it felt so right.

The smell of lemon zest surrounded you, along with his intoxicating aura. The thought then entered your head.

Hey, what if I just pulled away and ran like crazy?

Just as you’re about to pull away, he insists against your mouth, “Stay.” Ethan said, you could tell from how hot his lips were—he felt the same way. Out of control.

Ethan then turns you both over so that he was on the beanbag and you were straddling him.

His hands were sneaky enough to slide under the back of your shirt. “Just calming your nerves.” says Ethan as he rubs soothing circles on your lower back.

It was his shuddering breath that made you think this was a dream. Being woken up was the last thing you needed. Ethan whines into the kiss, and you smiled against him.

You then pull away with a small gasp escaping your lips when his hips jolt up into yours, your fist slammed against the wall as he did it twice.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry. It’s a reflex.” Ethan stammers as he sits up, moving you as well. “No, no! I just got startled. It’s fine, really.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth then his hands grip the sides of your face. Ethan is kissing you once again.

Just kissing, this is the closest you’ll ever get. Maybe you’ll forget about it the next day, or maybe one day—you’ll look back and regret it. The kiss being hot and slow, and his arms wrapping around you.

Ethan slides his arms around you and pulls you closer.

The moment of bliss is then interrupted when Quinn knocks on the door. “Hello? Just making sure nobody’s dead yet.”

“Shit.” You whisper, and you get off Ethan and push him back to his bed.

She enters the room and looks around. “I’m surprised this hasn’t turned into a warzone yet.”

“Uh-huh.” Ethan nods, but he’s all shades of pink. “Why are you so red right now?” Quinn tilts her head and squints. His hands move to his face and he tries to think of an excuse.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Have some decency, we heard you in there.” You grumbled, she then chuckles and leans against the doorframe. “Sorry, if I..” Quinn twirls her red hair with her finger. “Cockblocked you.” She lets out an awful grin then locks the door—closing it.

Now you were definitely in some situation, I guess she’s getting suspicious now. There was nothing in the room aside from the kissing sounds..what else? Ethan’s whining, and your fist hitting the wall..

Wait a minute.

You were completely fucked. Do you and Ethan just forget about it now? Or do you have to keep up the strategy? You weren’t the type to forget such a heated kiss, but what about him?