#there’s a good handful but I’ve already watched them all at least once

[troldrik]

Why aren’t there as many orca documentaries as shark documentaries, think of the autistics!! I’ve watched every one I can find!

[endlessthxxghts]

Biology

“Uncle”!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 5.4k

Summary: Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

Content/Warnings: able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship. If there’s anything that should be up here but I missed or I made any improper tags, please let me know!

A/N: Hi, my loves! This is slightly different than what you’re used to coming from me… All I can say is, you’ve read the warnings! Don’t bite if it is not your flavor! But for those who do like, I really hope you enjoy! And to my love @strang3lov3, thank you for prompting this and encouraging this side of my brain to finally stop hiding in the shadows. And thank you for your eyes on this and the mood board as well. I love you.🩶

masterlist | notifs blog

“Hey, hon, when you headin’ over to uncle Joel’s?”

You glance at the timer on the oven. “In about ten minutes after these cookies cool. Need something from me?”

“Can ya grab my toolbox before ya leave? Forgot it there the other day,” he replies. “Figured you could get it since you’re already goin’ there today.”

“Sure thing. It’s not the heavy one, is it? Because I don’t know if that old man’s back is ready for a heavy lift like that yet.” The timer on the oven beeps. You slide on your oven mitts to pull the tray out. “Made two batches by the way. How many you want? I’m taking some to Uncle’s, too.” 

About a week ago, Joel had a contracting accident. Some newbie wasn’t watching the older man’s back as Joel climbed up a wobbly ladder, and the next moment, Joel’s footing slipped. He landed right on his lower back, a piece of wood perched on the ground, sitting at just the right spot on the floor to render him immobile. Tommy, Joel’s younger brother, and your father, his best friend since before you were born, are the only two Joel trusts to get the job done perfectly, so Joel put them two in charge until he heals. 

Bed rest, the doctor had ordered Joel, for at least three weeks. It’s been one so far, but with you offering to be his nurse — one that forces him to stay in bed unless he needs to eat or use the restroom — he thinks he just might be back to work by next week. If you’ll let him, that is. 

“No, it’s the small one, hon, you got it,” your father reassures you. He lovingly slaps his growing belly as the trays hit the kitchen counter. “Y’know, darlin’, ever since you moved back, I’ve been gainin’ some weight. Can’t imagine what you’re doin’ t’ Joel over there.”

Your lip pulls up in a smirk. “Joel is in good hands, y’know. And technically, I don’t have to leave you any,” you say with a challenging brow, pulling the cookie trays out of his reach. 

“No, no, I’m not sayin’ that,” your father’s eyebrows raise in worry. His daily cookie is very important to him. “You can leave me like… five… or six.” 

“I’m just gonna leave you a whole batch. The six are gonna be gone before I even leave the house,” you tell your father as his hand subconsciously reaches for the cookie tray. 

He scoffs, “Ya have no faith in me.”

“So what’s in your hand already?”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, walking away with a mouthful of warm cookie dough and melted milk chocolate chips. 

“Uh huh,” you yell back. “Gonna be leaving in just a sec. I’ll see you later.”

It takes less than ten minutes to get to your uncle’s house. You unlock the door using the spare key he gave you as a teenager, and immediately, nurse mode is activated. 

“Uncle Joel!” You yell, exasperated. He turns around from his place in the kitchen, painfully slow. He’s going to make his back worse. “What do you think you’re doing?” You place the fresh cookies on his dining table along with your keys. You cross your arms angrily for good measure. 

“My coffee’s cold. I was warmin’ it up,” he huffs, annoyed.

“Bed, please.” Your hands find his waist, and you guide him back to his room. “You know I’m here around this time. You didn’t wanna call me first to see where I was?”

You ease him in a sitting position at the edge of his bed. He grunts as his ass meets the mattress. He grumbles his response. “Need to start gettin’ back to everythin’ independently, y’know that, don’tcha?”

“Is your memory going with your back, too, unc?” 

“‘Scuse me?” He looks at you incredulously. 

“Three weeks were the doctor’s orders. Not one,” you tell him, putting your foot down. 

He lays himself down with another wince at the motion, no acknowledgement to your words. God, he’s so stubborn. 

“I’ll go make you a fresh cup,” you tell him, feeling sympathetic for the man. His work is his life, and it’s not going to get any easier with age. 

Making your way back to his kitchen, you wash out the coffee pitcher, replace the grounds and the filter, and do some light cleaning as you wait for the bitter, brown liquid to brew. 

It’s only been five minutes since you returned to the kitchen, and the painful moans and groans from his bedroom have only gotten louder. You search around the place and find the heat pack you bought a few days ago and pop it in the microwave. You grab some pain meds, fill up a glass of water, and just in time, the microwave sings to you, telling you your contents are ready. 

Ignoring the coffee for a moment, you make your way back to Joel’s bedroom. His eyes are closed, but his entire body is tensed up in pain. Poor guy. You knock at his door to catch his attention before entering. “Unc?”

One eye peels open. “Yes, nurse?”

“Funny.” A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat. “Come take these.”

He makes no move to get up. 

You set the painkillers and the water on his bedside table, the heat pack wedged underneath your armpit. You start to reach for Joel to help him up, but he stops you. “I got it,” he grunts. You let him have this win. 

You hand him the glass of water first, then the pills. He swallows the painkillers in one big gulp, swallowing down the rest of the water in another. He eyes the heat pack in your arm. 

“Do you want-”

“Yes,” he says immediately, reaching for the soft warmth. 

“Lay down first, I’ll put it underneath you.”

Without another word, he positions himself. His body jerks when your soft hand slips underneath his back, pushing him to lift a little while you slide the heat underneath. “This okay?”

“Mhm,” he forces out, eyes clamped shut. It’s not okay, you think. 

“How would you feel on your stomach?” you suggest. 

“Dunno. Never tried.”

“Well, then.” You set the heat pack down, and it’s your turn to crawl, uninvited, into his bed. You walk on your knees towards the opposite, unoccupied side, adjusting the pillows in a way you think might be the most comfortable. This isn’t your first rodeo dealing with an old man’s back; you’ve got your dad. This is, however, your first rodeo dealing with an old man more stubborn than a screaming goat not getting his way. “Come on.”

“No.” 

“What do you mean no?” 

“That ain’t gonna be comfortable.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath. “I swear to God. I will flip your ass over myself if I have to.”

“You’re bossy,” he spits.

“So you’ve said.” 

Not giving him a chance to prepare, you hook your one hand at his side and your other on his hip, and you pull him towards you. It doesn’t fully flip him over, but it does the trick in getting him to finish the rest of the action himself — albeit, with a very strained yelp from the back of his throat. 

He groans for a few minutes more as you adjust some flat pillows underneath his belly and then prop the lukewarm heating back right at the base of his spine. You’ll probably have to heat it up in ten minutes again, but it’ll do for now. You stay in your spot for a minute, and already his pained noises begin to subside. 

“Better?” You know it is. You just want him to admit it. 

And when a single huff with zero protests from the grumpy man reverberates around the room, you know you’ve won this round. 

“I’ll go get your coffee now,” you hum. 

A soft rasp of your name has you spinning back around as you reach the room’s threshold. 

“Hm?”

“Thanks,” he tells you. 

“It’s what I’m here for, unc.”

You put his fresh cup of coffee in a thermos this time. You can’t imagine how often he’ll get up being in this position, but at least the freshness will be there with every sip he does end up taking. 

“How’s it going?” You ask him as you set his coffee nearby. You feel the heat pack on his spine, and it’s as you called it to be by now: room temperature. “Want me to reheat it?” 

“‘M okay,” he replies, voice groggy. He must’ve fallen asleep. 

“Okay.” You stand there for a moment. You can tell the heat helped, but his body isn’t entirely relaxed. He’s still tense, as if a nerve or something is being pinched. 

You recall your memory from a while ago before you moved back with your dad. Your brother, who is a mixed martial arts athlete, had a sparring session that hurt his back, nearly in the same area as Joel. He had you running his massage gun over his muscles nearly every night for a month straight. “It needs to uncoil somehow,” he told you. An idea crosses your mind then. 

You saunter to Joel’s en suite bathroom in search of some type of lubricant. Sitting loud and proud on the center of the bathroom counter is a little bottle of Equate’s Personal Liquid Lubricant. Your brain falters for a second, the bottle of lube throwing you off your original plan. That is absolutely not the kind of lubricant you were looking for. Shaking away the image from your mind, you bend down to look in the cabinets underneath. Bingo, a bottle of Aveeno body lotion. This should do. 

You invite yourself onto his bed for the second time today. “Let me give you a massage.”

“What?” His head turns to you now, utterly confused. He definitely heard you wrong, he thinks. 

“Let me give you a massage,” you repeat. “It’ll help.”

A massage actually does sound nice right now. But you’ve been nothing but bossy this last week while Joel lays here helplessly. He’s bored. And he’s had enough. “It ain’t gonna help.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

Jesus. Haven’t you had this conversation before? You mentally slap your forehead. Again, leaving him no other options, you reach for his flannel atop his shoulders and begin to pull them down. 

“Hey, hey, wait, now what in the hell-” He tries to stifle back a laugh as he wriggles in your hold, trying to playfully push you off without hurting himself more in the process. 

You quickly release his clothes, hands up in surrender where he can see them. You’re just realizing now just how forward your action must’ve been. “How am I gonna massage you-” 

The embarrassment written all over your face has Joel tearing up as he tries to hold his wheezing laugh in. With his eyebrow quirked at you, he responds, “If you wanted me naked, kiddo-”

“Jesus, ew! Really?” An unbearable heat spreads across your cheeks. Your eyes are downcast, looking everywhere else but him. “It- it’ll be better if I can directly touch-”

Only then do you feel the bed shaking with his laughter. He’s fucking with you. And here you were, about to offer something that would relieve a whole lot of pain. “Oh, fuck you,” you scoff, pulling yourself up and making your way off of his bed. 

“No, okay, wait,” he laughs, trying to catch his breath. “Jus’ messin’ with you, who am I to deny a massage?” He raises his eyebrows once, twice. Still messing with you, seeing how far his taunting with you can go. 

“You’re disgusting,” you deadpan. 

“‘M not the one tryin’ t’ massage her uncle,” Joel says as he attempts to shrug his shoulders at you.

“I’m gonna leave now.” One foot makes it to the ground before Joel speaks again. 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, ya can’t take a joke? I’m only messin’ around. Come back. Gonna leave me hangin’? In pain? C’mon, nurse.” His tone falls softer, sweeter. You can hear the shit-eating grin in his words. And, fuck, why is it making you heat even further, in places beyond your face? In places you shouldn’t be?

“Fine,” you relent. “Stop saying weird shit then.” You still can’t look at him. Not after the way your body decided to react in the shift of energy. An abrupt shift of energy, as far as you can tell. 

He’s your dad’s best friend. Your uncle, for crying out loud. Not by blood, but still. There’s never been a feeling beyond that. Sure, you’ve had your silly little school girl crush on him during your young teenage years, but that was your hormones being your hormones. You grew out of them. Even your own father can’t deny the conventional attractiveness of his best friend. 

Plus, suggestive commentary is bound to make anyone feel hot. It’s basic biology. Your response is nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you convince yourself of when you climb back into your uncle’s— no, into Joel’s bed, trying to ignore the way your panties stick dutifully against your throbbing core.

Joel leans onto his side as you get yourself situated, unbuttoning the bottom half of his flannel, so you can flip up the bottom to reach his lower back. After the bottom half of the buttons are undone, he lays back on his front. “Here,” he calls your name. “Jus’ lift it up from the bottom.”

You scoot closer to him, standing on your knees, and you reach over to grab the hem of his flannel, pulling it up as gently as possible, exposing just enough to be able to reach the irritated areas. You frown at what you see. Inflamed skin, purples and yellows dancing all across his lower back, forcing him away from the very thing he lives for. He may have been a stubborn bitch this entire week, but that doesn’t stop the sympathy you feel for the man. 

You put some of the lotion in your hand, rubbing it between your two palms to warm it up a little. You place your hand on the side closest to you first, moving in circular motions and adjusting your pressure ever so often. “Let me know when the pressure is good.”

So far he hasn’t said much, a slight groan here, an exhale there. You feel a knot as you move lower, so you increase your pressure. You’re met with a literal moan, and you swear you have to bite back your own vocal response. “Fuck,” he sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah, jus’ like that, ‘s perfect, darlin’.” 

“Okay,” you squeak, your thighs clenching together to attempt any kind of relief to the heat between your legs. 

After a few more passes over the area — and a few more indulgent, harder presses of your palm to pull more angelic sounds from him — you switch to the other side. Except, at this angle, you don’t really have as good an angle as you did before. Your leg swings over his ass, bracketing him in between your thighs, before you can even register the move your body just made. A soft gasp falls from your lips as you feel the new angle you’ve just given yourself. 

“Joel?” You call sweetly. Innocently.”I- I’m not hurting you or anything, am I?”

Hurting? No. Putting him through Hell? Close enough. 

Joel has done many questionable things in his lifetime. Getting involved with taken (married or otherwise) women, couples who wanted a third… Joel has lived through it all. Mainly in his younger years, but nevertheless. He has done and seen many things. But none of these things have ever included getting a fucking hard on for a girl — a woman? — he practically had a hand in raising. You call him uncle, for crying out loud. 

His physical response means nothing. It’s basic biology. The tender yet skilled touch of your warm hands directly against his even hotter skin, lighting every single nerve ending on fire, forcing the blood to course through his veins, to make its way down south— 

“Christ-” he snarls as you practically sit on him. His mouth shuts instantly as his eyes shoot open. He didn’t mean for that to come out. “Y-yeah,” he corrects. “‘M alright.” 

“Just- just let me know,” you tell him. He can hear the shake in your voice. He can tell biology is doing a number on you, too, based on your tone alone, if the heat engulfing his rear as you try your best not to make contact with it isn’t enough to go by. 

He focuses on his breathing as best he can as your hands push slightly past his jeans, getting underneath the seam of his boxers, and then immediately softening your touch as you run your fingers up his spine, awaking a chill he never knew was possible until now. You rub beyond the exposed area of his lower back, reaching his shoulder blades and entirely up to his shoulders, forcing the flannel to rise with your hands. He’s so broad and warm, and you would absolutely be drooling all over him by now if you weren’t so shocked at how tight his muscles really feel. How has this man not gotten any injuries sooner? How was he still doing all this heavy lifting? You dig the pads of your finger tips further into the thousands of tiny knots you feel, and his body jerks in actual pain this time. 

“God damn, girl,” he snaps. “What are you doin’?” 

“How the fuck do you even function?” You sound genuinely horrified. 

“What-”

“Your shoulders and neck are fucking covered in knots how do you even-” you cut yourself off with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You need to flip over.” 

Fuck. 

“Why?” He asks defensively. 

“I’m gonna break these knots. I need to start from the front.” 

“Ya ain’t gettin’ anywhere near my neck, I swear to God-”

“Quit being stubborn. What did I say earlier? I’m gonna flip you myself if you don’t-”

“Alright, fine, gimme a sec,” he bites. Joel takes a deep breath, at war with himself for how he’s going to handle his next course of action. 

Whatever happens next, there is no avoiding the fact that you will be made aware of the bulging erection between his legs. You can know about it, that’s fine, but the second you make contact, he doesn’t know if he’ll have the strength to control himself. Which is why he rips off the band aid quick. Flipping himself over with you still hovering over him, he tries his best not to touch you. Though, the second he’s comfortable, his focus is on your waist, grabbing you immediately and missing the way your eyes widen at the tenting fabric of his jeans. He pulls you higher up to sit on his lower tummy. 

You squeak out a little gasp as he adjusts you, and fuck it makes the pulsing between his legs even worse. He releases you, bringing his hands back to his sides. 

“Comfortable?” you whisper. You try so hard not to use your voice, worried that it’ll reveal just how turned on you are by this situation you’ve put yourself in. He gives you a single nod, and with that, you lean to grab more lotion. 

The angle you are at forces you to lean the front of your body onto Joel to be able to reach his shoulders. You can feel his body tense underneath you; you can hear his labored breathing as your hands further push away his flannel, working away at each knot. 

You lean forward further, giving yourself the ability to reach just below Joel’s neck. With this action, your hips shift, pressing down against Joel’s belly in a way that sends a sudden jolt of butterflies through your core. Your hands freeze in their movement, breath and fingertips stuttering as your entire face and neck heat up. You sneak a quick glance to Joel, and his eyes are still relaxed. He didn’t notice. 

It takes you a moment to start your movements back up again, but when you do, you can’t help the way you repeat exactly what you did before — allowing yourself another experimental roll of your hips against his soft abdomen. Only this time, you’re way less sly, for the whimper of pleasure you thought you could hide slips right out, right for his sharp ears to take note of. Shit. 

“Y’ alright there?” His eyes are trained on you now; he knows what you just did. Joel sports a quirked eyebrow as he waits for your response. 

“Mhm,” you rush out, ignoring his piercing gaze. 

It takes every ounce of willpower for you to run over the knots in his shoulder again without driving your hips into him, but even the push and pull of your arms is a full body movement, and you feel it. You feel the growing wetness in your core, the growing heartbeat that his bare tummy no doubt can feel now. 

Your body is splayed across him, the warmth of you leaking through your bottoms and onto his hot skin as you pathetically try to play off the fact that you aren’t grinding your wet cunt across him right now. With a rasp of your name, he takes a sharp breath in. “What are ya doin’?” He grunts, pained. Conflicted. 

This is so wrong. But it feels so good. Your arousal — how utterly desperate you are for the older man underneath you — is shone all over your face, brighter than any other feeling of disgust or wrongness you’re trying to convince yourself of. But the internal battle is still there, though, and it forces your hips to come to a full stop. It forces cries of apologies from your lips. It forces regret. 

“I- I’m sorry,” you choke back a sob. “Please, I- this is so wrong, I’m so stupid, uncle, I-” 

God damn it. Joel is too damn hard to deal with this shit now. “Oh, Jesus Christ, will you cut the fuckin’ uncle bullshit?” He finally snaps. His hands spring to life, finding their way up your thighs, tightening once they reach your hips. He forces you to move again. “Ya think I wanna hear that fuckin’ word while you fuckin’ soak me? Huh? While ya rub on me like a fuckin’ bitch in heat?”

“Shit,” you moan, the strength of his hand making the assault against your mound all the more intense. “Joel, please,” you cry, your fingers shaking as you hold onto his chest. 

Your thighs begin to tremble as he maintains a rough pace to your movements, his bed creaking with every shove of your hips against him. His grip on you is one of steel, the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh, no doubt leaving tiny bruises as a reminder of today’s actions. 

He is fucking covered in you — the slick of your desire pooling through your bottoms and into his skin, making each grind smoother. He licks his lips at this, his eyes dark as he drinks you in from above; your own eyes glossy and a sheen of sweat along your skin. “Look at ya, darlin’,” he murmurs, voice low enough to send a fresh wave of arousal pouring from your hole. “Fuckin’ soakin’ me, baby. Needed me that bad, did ya? Was tryin’ t’ tell ya earlier,” he grunts, “Y’know ya just had to ask.” A lazy smirk pulls across his lip. 

You let out a whimper at his words, your hips finally rolling alongside his own guidance, instinctively searching for more friction. “Atta girl,” he groans, “That’s it, fuck- makin’ a fuckin’ mess a’ me, darlin’.” 

You’re panting now, the rhythm and pressure mixed with the filth of his Southern drawl ignites every single nerve ending throughout your body. He watches you with a dark intensity, the brown of his eyes replaced with pure black lust, his eyes unable to stray away from the pleasurable desperation filling your features. 

“Gonna come like this, sweetheart?” He taunts, driving you into him even harder. 

“Mmm- my God, yeah- yes,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the coil in your belly finally tightens, your breathing ragged as needy moans escape your lips. 

With a final roll of your hips and the utterance of a that’s my girl, the coil finally snaps, pleasure crashing over you, coursing through your veins as you come all over him, your slick unable to stay within the limits of your clothes, leaking and dripping down the sides of him and onto the mattress below. Your thighs convulse around his waist, his hold on you continuing your thrusts, dragging out your orgasm until your own hands find his and rip him away from you.

“Ya ain’t done yet, sugar,” Joel gruffs, grabbing the globes of your ass cheeks and dragging you down, letting you feel his ignored and now raging erection. 

“Never said I was,” you purr, a soft moan blessing his ears at the feel of his bulge against your ass. He can feel your smirk against his chest. 

Body still trembling, Joel lifts your ass in the air, sliding your bottoms down over the curve of your body. The stickiness of your panties pulls off with a wet squelch, the cool air of the room mingling with the wet warmth of your bare pussy, the stark contrast forcing chills to run through your veins. 

“God,” he murmurs as you give a little wiggle of your ass in the air. “Pretty as a peach, huh, darlin’?” He guides you lower, pushing you down onto his bulge. The hardness of him beneath you immediately sends a fiery need to your core. Your hands move on their own as you pull your body up, reaching for the buttons and zipper of his jeans, undoing them with ease despite the eager shake of your hand. You pull the jeans down just enough to let his cock spring free, thick and angry and leaking. 

“Oh, fuck,” you swallow your gasp. “God, I need you so bad,” you whine, already lifting up to line the tip of him to your swollen cunt. 

You sink down with a breathless moan, your head flying back as your hands grip onto his tummy to keep you from buckling. 

Joel’s breathing stutters, his moans filling the air as you practically choke his cock. “Shit- so fuckin- fuckin’ tight.” His hands find their home on the meat of your ass, holding you tight, grounding himself from coming like a damn teenager.

You move slowly at first, savoring the way he feels inside of you, how big he is. God, you don’t think you’ve ever taken anything quite as long and as thick as him. Your heart skips a beat at that, knowing that he’s ruined you for anyone else. 

It isn’t long before the raw need takes over, and you move faster, hips rolling back and forth as you ride him, the wet sound of skin against skin as you alternate to a bounce ever so often. 

Despite the risk of hurting his back even more, he can’t stop himself from gripping you tighter, his nails digging into your flesh as his hips buck up into you, starting their own rhythm, meeting every one of your thrusts. The sensation is overwhelming with the size of him; it’s a perfect mix of pleasure and pain, mixing sweet whines of ecstasy with whines of overstimulation, and it’s the best music to have ever graced his ears. 

“Look at ya,” he grunts. “Fuckin’ made for this, weren’t ya? Fuckin’ made for takin’ this cock, huh, sweetheart?” 

You nod weakly at his words. They send a flutter down your belly to your pussy, and his mouth is all it takes to send you to your second brink of collapse — your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you move, as he drives himself into you without abandon. 

Every thrust pushes you further to the edge, the sting of the stretch, the sensation of being so full — it’s almost too much to bear. He can hear it in the way your cries change. It’s becoming too much. 

“Y’ can take it, sweetheart, almost there,” he grunts. His hands take over in guiding your movements, urging you faster, harder, bringing you both to the cliff’s edge. 

“C’mon, baby, can feel her squeezin’ me, know she wanna come, baby. Breathe, doll, jus’ let go,” he rasps, his words coming in staggered.

The wet tightness of your walls, both the feel and the sound, causes Joel to fall first — a low, guttural groan filling the room as he fills you with his hot, thick spend.

The sensation of him pulsing inside you, unloading everything he’s worth, sends you over your edge, your pussy clenching around his cock as you come, the sensation rippling through you, shredding your vocal cords as you scream out in pleasure. 

Everything goes dark for you, nothing but the fuzzy sound of Joel’s sweet praises at the top of your head as he guides you through your come down. 

“Did so fuckin’ good f’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs. “Sweet girl.”

For an asshole, who knew he could be so sweet? 

You roll off of Joel as soon as your heart steadies, your entire body on fire from all the exertion. You can feel Joel’s body stiffen as you use him for support. His back is killing him right now.

A few moments pass as your eyes slowly start to close, but the deep gruff of your name stops you from dozing. 

You turn your head to the man beside you. “Yes?” 

For the first time today, it’s Joel who can’t make eye contact with you. “Can you, uh… can you-” he clears his throat, trying to rid himself of his awkwardness. “Can you warm up the heat pack again?” 

Your smirk lifts your cheek before you can even try to stop it. “Come again?” 

He lets out a frustrated huff. And he can’t turn away from you. His back is killing him right now. “My back-”

“Yeah, what about your back?” 

“You fuckin’ little shit-”

You giggle as you flip onto your side, your hand holding your head up to get a better look at him. “Your back is hurting, baby? Need me to get the heat pack for you, hm?” 

He doesn’t respond. He just has the deepest, most grumpiest scowl known to man on display. 

“Oh, come on. You need my help, is that it? Need to hear you say it, unc.” You emphasize the last syllable of your sentence, a belly laugh threatening to escape you. 

Oh, two can play at that game. “Yeah, baby, I need your help. I need the help from my beautiful, beautiful niece, hm? My beautiful, needy niece whose pussy gets all soaked jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout me, huh? Gets all wet and needy thinkin’ ‘bout her uncle-”

Your resolve finally snaps, your eyes clamping shut as you cover your ears, loud la la la’s coming from your mouth as you ungraciously roll yourself off of his bed. “Enough, fine! Fine! Fuckin’ nasty,” you groan as you make your way to the kitchen. 

“‘M not the one who started it, sweetheart,” Joel says, a triumphant smile plastered across his cocky face. 

“I made you cookies by the way,” you yell after a beat. “Want one?” 

Joel’s hand reaches for his belly. He doesn’t need one, that’s for sure. “Yeah,” he responds not a second later. 

You come back to his bedroom, heat pack in one hand, no cookie in the other. You hand him the heat pack. You make him adjust it himself. 

“Where’s the cookie?” He asks, a tinge of impatience on his tongue. 

“Oh, I thought you were gonna come down and get it.” 

He looks at you incredulously. 

“I just figured you wanted to start being more independent and all. Given how strenuous you were being a few moments ago,” you offer with a faux innocence.  

“I swear to fuckin’ God, when I get my hands on you-”

“Your hands on me? Yeah? When?” You start making your way out of his bedroom. “Come get me if you wanna show me a lesson. Know you been dying to all week.” 

If he can fuck you the way he did, maybe full-time bed rest isn’t what Joel needs. He needs to stretch and move around; he needs to activate his muscles, especially being on the older side. It really is basic biology.

I would absolutely love to hear what you guys thought of this! Any and all your love and commentary truly keeps me going and motivated even when the writer’s block is at its strongest. Wouldn’t be here without you all. I have so much love in my heart for you! Talk to y’all soon🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

Leaf divider by @saradika-graphics

[l0verb0yblues]

i should be hanging out with a group of dudes when one guy off-hand suggests we watch some porn together. Just as a joke between us guys. And when we decide on what to watch and everyone starts pulling their dicks out, I’ll probably be the only one who still has it in his pants. At least for a while, because seeing all those hard cocks is bound to get me worked up.

But once they see my dick compared to theirs, they take it upon themselves to teach me how to jack off, doing it themselves as a test run. One guy holds one hand, another grabs my other. A third begins to gently stroke my tcock up and down, already growing hard and wet, while only touching my pussy when he needs lube. All the while a fourth guy grabs my hair to keep me facing the screen, whispering in my ear how good I'm doing and giving me pointers on what to focus on. Making sure my eyes stay focused on the action, telling me not to resist the bucking of my hips, playing with my nipples in order to get me close so he can call me a natural-born whore once I cum.

But once I cum the first time, they want to make sure that I can do it myself, so they let go of my arms and let me put my own hands on my dick. They spread my legs and guide my hands down to my dick, letting me pump myself up and down. At that point, I bet they’re not even focusing on the videos anymore, I’ve become a far more interesting piece of entertainment. And having them touch themselves to me means that I’m rewarded with so much cum and praise once I manage to bring myself to completion like a good boy.

Ah, to just be one of the guys.

[katszumi]

silence immersed the room as the door clicked shut behind you. the ticking clock a reminder of how little time you have.

“you’re such an asshole, you know that?” you spewed to the male in front of you, your features displaying a look of anger.

katsuki rolled his eyes. “well, it’s not like i get called a ray of fuckin’ sunshine. what else did you honestly expect?” he crossed his arms over his chest, taking a seat atop of the long metal table.

“not much, yet you still seem to subceed my expectations.”

“subceed? seriously?” katsuki paused to let a scoff escape his lips. “you’re upset because i’m actually selling this story? the only one, might i add. this was your shitty grand idea!”

unknowingly, you took a step forward.

“the idea was to make it known we disliked each other. not for you to publicly shame and insult me!”

you, katsuki and a few other heroes were invited to attend a press conference. while the original topic was to discuss about the mission you all completed the day before, the topic began to stray away and focus on the relationship between you and katsuki.

japan knows of the hatred you and katsuki shared between each other, that was no unknown fact. the media described you two as fiery rivals considering both of your quirks contained fuel.

you two despised each other. or at least that’s the lie you fooled everyone with.

you were unsure when katsuki started to look appealing to the eye, how attractive he was when he was drowned in sweat, how you began to long for the small but noticeable glances he sent you in public. you couldn’t tell when it happened. but before you knew it, a small pool of desire that had katsuki’s name printed on it began to fill every minute of the day.

“which is no different than what we used to do. you want them to believe it? then don’t take my shit. suck it up and be a bigger asshole than i already am.” he was right. you know he was right. but it was so difficult to pretend as if you hated him.

even if you called him a bitch, or a cunt, maybe even call him out for having a small dick—which you know is far from the truth—that still wouldn’t deny the peace you felt whenever you were with katsuki. how the world seemed to stop still on its axis. how there were no rain, wind or time. just pure bliss.

fuck.

out of everyone, it just had to be him? his captivating, intense ruby irises. his brash, abrasive demeanor. only his words that could seem to sway you. the man the world deemed you to abhor.

instead of admitting the truth, you twist his words. “well, i’m pleased to know it’s so easy for you to do.”

“jesus fuck, y/n.” now, katsuki rose from his position, never once breaking eye contact with you. “you think this is easy for me? you think i like getting up there and lying through my teeth? doing this is the one of the hardest things i’ve ever done.”

he walks closer and even closer to you, minimizing the distance you established for good reasons. this is how it always happens; one of you forgets about the space you two have to maintain until words don’t seem to work anymore. instead, your lips weave together, forming a new way to communicate.

but you don’t move. you don’t want to.

“is it? all those insults feels like it comes pretty smooth to you.”

katsuki pauses as he takes a second to analyze you. his eyes scan your body then leading right up to your face.

“because those are the words i wish i could mean. every time, it burns me to say those things about you when i’d rather be up there claiming every single part about you.” he lowered to a whisper, but his voice maintained a fervent tone.

his hand raises, slow and steady. he cups your cheek, gently swiping his thumb across your cheek. instinctively, you lean into his palm, your eyes softening as you gaze into his eyes.

“you think i enjoy this?” you watch his jaw tighten, his hand dropping to your hip. “think i like watching you talk with those eager men? it takes everything in me to not beat them shitless for daring to come across you. do you know how hard it is to fight the urge to pull you in and show them that you’re not available?”

too captivated by his words, you didn’t notice how katsuki lowered his head. you could feel the heat of his body from how he gave you no room to breathe. he placed his lips on your soft skin, slowly kissing the side of your neck.

no. resist him. your mind was screaming. this couldn’t go on forever. at some point, you guys had to stop.

“what will make them back off? if i mark you up? think they’ll understand then?” he proposed the question, but to you, it seemed more like he was asking for permission.

you didn’t know what effect katsuki placed on you to have you like this. but in this moment, you didn’t care about the rumors, the consequences, your image. it was all pushed back in the back of your head. so, you slightly tilted your head upwards, giving him more leeway to continue.

katsuki gripped your hips. not too strong to leave a mark but strong enough to squeeze a small moan out of you.

“don’t you fuckin’ understand, y/n?” he leans away to look in your eye.

“what?” you meekly responded.

“i go insane when it comes to you. i’m not the kind of guy that drools over any woman’s attention. but, you… fuck.” he stops himself, from what you can only assume was to control himself with whatever he was about to say. “not being able to have you only makes me crave you more.”

you stay quiet.

“you know how many times i’ve tried to resist you?”

“how many?” finally, you spoke.

“too many fuckin’ times. i’m done fighting it, y/n.”

confusion struck your face. “what do you mean?”

“be mine. forget the press, forget our pr managers. be with me.” katsuki brings you closer with the hand placed on your hip, the action drawing you to one conclusion.

he leans in and interlocks his lips with yours. immediately, you drown in the feeling of his soft but chapped lips that you couldn’t seem to push away. somehow, you find the strength to pull back from him.

“not here. not in pub-”

“yes here.”

with his tone, you could mistake him to be aggressive in this moment. but over the months, you managed to be able to read his eyes from the forbidden glances he’s sent your way; how he really felt through the way he wore his eyes.

katsuki’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his soft ruby eyes shifted from your lips to your e/c irises.

there was a look behind his eyes. there were more watchful, more tender than usual. almost as if he was pleading with his eyes. like he was begging.

so, how could you say no to him in this state? him being so vulnerable with you?

but that was always the problem.

you could never say no to katsuki bakugou, no matter what.

your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him in with your eyes. he inclined his head and laid his lips on your mouth. the silence that did wrap the room ten minutes ago was replaced with the noise of sloppy kisses, your mouths powering over each other.

you can feel your heart rate increase from the action, even more noticeably so when he entangles a fist in the back of your shirt. he needs you closer, maybe within his skin if possible.

following his action, you guide your fingers through his ash blonde strands, sending a shiver down his spine. he nibbles on the bottom of your lip, pulling it just slightly.

“we really shouldn’t be doing this.” your murmur, yet his ears catches it. “this would be the hottest topic for the media.”

a snicker parted his lips. “we just can’t be caught. but the day you stop being scared, i’m ready.” his words vague and simple, yet still holding so much promise.

“i hate you.”

and you did. you hated that he was too enticing. too irresistible.

“thought it was hard for you to say things you don’t mean?” he referred from earlier. of course, that was just like him. the same him you mistakenly fell for.

“just shut up.” was all you replied with before leaning back in to connect his lips with yours, choosing to help him with your statement.

this was supposed to be like a forbidden love trope but i think i just revealed how thirsty i am😔

[paxtito]

grey sweatpants

parings: tara x reader (g!p)

word count: 4048

warnings: smut 18+, swearing, reader has a dick, oral sex, fingering and p in v

summary: tara’s tiktok feed has been filled with people buying their partners grey sweatpants, it’s supposed to exaggerate certain… features. she drags you along to the shop to buy a pair and let’s just say, she definitely likes it

a/n: wrote this while listening to the car by arctic monkeys, i will not tolerate hate towards their newer stuff- apologies in advance for any mistakes

MASTERLIST

You’re barely two steps inside the store when Tara’s hand closes around your wrist, dragging you through the aisles with a surprising amount of strength for someone so small. Her eyes are lit up with that determined gleam that usually spells trouble—or something about to become very memorable. You’re not sure which it’ll be, but you follow, grinning.

“We’re not leaving until you’ve tried on at least five pairs,” she declares, her voice laced with mischievous excitement.

“Five?” you laugh, letting her pull you deeper into the clothing section. “Don’t you think that’s a little…excessive?”

“Nope,” she says, without even a second of hesitation. She looks back at you with a smirk. “You need options. And I need the perfect pair.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Perfect pair for what?”

She stops in front of a display of grey sweatpants, eyeing them like they’re some sort of rare, mythical artifact. Tara’s fingers brush over a pair of heather grey joggers, and she glances up at you with that mischievous glint you’ve come to know all too well.

“For…reasons,” she says cryptically, shooting you a playful wink that makes your cheeks warm.

“Oh, I see,” you tease, crossing your arms. “This has nothing to do with all those TikToks about guys in grey sweatpants?”

She shrugs, pretending to look innocent, but there’s no hiding the tiny grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Well, maybe I’ve been…inspired.”

“Maybe?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “Tara, you’ve been obsessed with those videos ever since we started dating.”

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Okay, fine, I have! But can you blame me? I mean, just imagine…” Her voice drops to a whisper, her gaze drifting downward suggestively.

You follow her line of sight, realizing with a jolt of heat under your skin exactly what she’s talking about. You can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head at her antics.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited about sweatpants before,” you say, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“That’s because these aren’t just any sweatpants,” she insists, her tone serious despite the blush creeping up her cheeks. “These are…strategic sweatpants.”

You blink, trying to hide your amusement. “Strategic?”

She nods vigorously. “Yeah! They’re supposed to be like…the perfect fit. Not too tight, not too loose. Just enough to, you know…highlight the goods.”

You can’t help but laugh at her bluntness, even as your heart flutters at the thought of her wanting to showcase your assets like that.

“And you think these ones will do the trick?” you ask, motioning towards the display.

Tara grins, already reaching for a pair in your size. “Oh, definitely. Trust me, Y/N, once you put these on…you’ll understand why I’m so excited.”

You watch as she practically skips towards the changing rooms, holding out the sweatpants for you to take. There’s a glint in her eyes that promises mischief and fun, and you can’t help but smile, following her lead.

Tara practically bounces on her toes as she waits for you outside the changing room, clutching the sweatpants to her chest like they’re a precious treasure. You can hear her humming to herself, a tune that sounds suspiciously like the jingle from one of those infamous TikTok videos.

Finally, you emerge from the changing room, feeling a bit self-conscious as you model the grey joggers for her. They fit snugly around your waist, tapering down to a comfortable width at the ankle. The material is soft against your skin, and you have to admit, they feel pretty good.

But it’s the reaction on Tara’s face that really catches your attention. Her eyes widen, her mouth falling open in a perfect ‘O’ of surprise. For a moment, she seems at a loss for words, which is a rarity for her.

Then, slowly, a grin spreads across her face, growing wider and wider until she’s practically beaming at you.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, stepping closer to get a better look. “Y/N, you look…wow.”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks at her obvious approval. It’s not often that you’re the center of attention like this, and Tara’s undivided focus is both thrilling and a little intimidating.

“What’s so ‘wow’ about them? I’m starting to think you’re going mad.”

Tara giggles, shaking her head. "Trust me, you look amazing. I mean, seriously, how did I get so lucky?"

She reaches out, running her fingers along the waistband of the sweatpants. Her touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you suddenly find yourself acutely aware of just how close she is standing.

"It's like... they were made for you," she murmurs, her voice low and appreciative. "They just...highlight everything so perfectly.”

You feel your face flush even hotter at her words, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure coursing through you. Tara's gaze is fixed on you, her eyes dark with a hunger that makes your breath catch.

"I'm serious, Y/N," she says, her tone turning playful. "You could give those TikTok guys a run for their money. I might just have to keep you in these pants all the time."

She winks at you, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. You laugh, shaking your head at her antics, but there's no denying the way your heart races at the thought of her wanting to keep you close.

"Alright, alright," you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright, I guess these sweatpants are a keeper then," you chuckle, giving in to Tara's persuasive charms. "Let's go pay for them so we can get out of here." You say, disappearing back into the changing rooms.

Once you return, Tara's face lights up with pure delight, and she practically skips towards the checkout counter, clutching the sweatpants to her chest like a prized possession. You follow behind her, amused by her enthusiasm and finding yourself caught up in her excitement.

As you wait in line, Tara can't seem to stop touching the fabric of the sweatpants, running her fingers along the waistband and smoothing out the legs. It's almost like she's memorizing every detail, committing it to memory for later.

"I can't believe we found them," she says, glancing up at you with a grin. "I mean, it's like fate or something, right? Like the universe knew exactly what I needed and put them right in our path."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, Tara. The universe is totally conspiring to make you happy."

"Hey, don't knock it," she says, nudging you playfully with her elbow. "Sometimes the universe just knows what's up."

As you finally reach the front of the line, Tara practically vibrates with anticipation, her eyes darting between you and the sweatpants like she's afraid they might disappear at any moment. When the cashier rings them up, Tara practically lunges for her wallet, eager to make the purchase official.

"There," she says triumphantly, clutching the bag with the sweatpants inside like a lifeline. "Now they're mine. All mine."

You can't help but laugh at her dramatic flair, but there's a part of you that's touched by her enthusiasm. It's not often that someone gets so excited about something so simple, but with Tara, everything feels special.

"Alright, let's get out of here," you say, looping your arm through hers. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day. Crazy girl.”

As you leave the store, Tara clutches the bag containing the sweatpants like a precious treasure. She can't stop grinning, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous light that makes your heart skip a beat.

"I can't wait to see you in these," she says, her voice low and sultry as you walk side by side. "I mean, seriously, Y/N, you're going to look so hot. I might not be able to control myself.”

You feel a blush creeping up your neck at her words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. “You just saw them on me, dumbass.”

Tara can't help but laugh at your comment, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Yeah, but that was in the store. I want to see you in them in...private."

Her voice drops to a whisper on the last word, and you feel a shiver run down your spine at the implication. Tara's hand finds yours, her fingers intertwining with yours as you walk.

"Come on," she says, tugging you gently towards the car. "Let's go back to my place so you can model them for me properly."

You let her lead you, your heart racing with anticipation. The drive back to Tara's apartment is filled with playful banter and stolen glances, the tension between you growing with each passing minute.

When you finally arrive, Tara practically drags you inside, her eagerness palpable. She kicks off her shoes and tosses her keys on the table by the door, then turns to you with a grin.

"Alright, Y/N," she says, her voice teasing. "Show me what you've got."

You feel a surge of confidence wash over you as you slip into the bedroom, the sweatpants hugging your curves in all the right places. When you turn to face Tara, her eyes widen, and she lets out a low whistle of appreciation.

"Damn," she breathes, taking a step closer. "I was right. You look absolutely incredible in those."

Her hands come to rest on your hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles against the fabric. You can feel the heat of her body seeping through the thin material, and it takes everything in you not to shiver.

"I think I might have to keep you in these forever," Tara murmurs, leaning in close. "Just so I can look at you like this all the time."

You can feel Tara's eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve and every contour. There's a hunger in her gaze that sends a thrill straight to your core, and you can't help but squirm a little under her scrutiny.

"You know," she says, her voice low and husky, "I think these sweats were made for you. Like, specifically designed to show off every inch of your body."

You feel your face flush at her words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. It's not often that someone looks at you like this, like they want to devour you whole.

Tara's hands slide up your sides, her fingers tracing the lines of your body through the fabric of the sweatpants. You can feel the heat of her touch even through the thin material, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.

"I mean, look at you," she continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're fucking perfect, Y/N. Every single inch of you."

Her hands come to rest on your hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles against your skin. You can feel the pressure building inside you, a need that's growing stronger with each passing second.

"Tara," you breathe, your voice trembling slightly. "Please..."

She doesn't need any more encouragement. In one swift motion, she's pushing you back onto the bed, her body covering yours. Her lips find yours in a searing kiss, and you moan into her mouth, your hands fisting in her shirt.

Tara breaks the kiss, trailing her lips down your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. You arch into her touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck, Y/N," she groans, her hand sliding down your body, cupping you through the sweatpants. "You're so hard already. I love how much you want me."

You gasp as she strokes you through the fabric, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your hips buck up into her hand, seeking more of that delicious contact.

Tara's hand slips under the waistband of your sweatpants, her fingers brushing against the hot, hard length of your cock. She groans at the feel of it, her hand wrapping around you and stroking slowly from base to tip.

"God, Y/N," she murmurs, her breath hot against your neck. "You're so fucking perfect. I can't get enough of you."

Her other hand works at the button of your sweatpants, tugging them down over your hips. You lift up to help her, eager to feel her skin against yours.

Once your pants are off, Tara takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, her eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful," she whispers, her hand stroking you again, slower this time. "I can't believe you're all mine."

She leans down, her tongue flicking out to taste the tip of your cock. You gasp at the sensation, your hips bucking up into her touch. Tara smiles against your skin, her lips wrapping around you and taking you deep into her mouth.

You moan, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you. Tara's mouth is hot and wet, her tongue swirling around you in a way that makes your toes curl. She bobs her head, taking you deeper with each pass, her hand stroking what she can't fit in her mouth.

Tara looks up at you with a question in her eyes as you gently push her away. She releases your throbbing length with a soft pop, her lips glistening with your precum.

"Y/N?" she asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and concern. "Is everything okay?"

You swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. The sight of her kneeling between your legs, her hand still wrapped around your shaft, is almost too much to bear. But you force yourself to focus, determined to give her the pleasure she deserves.

"Everything's perfect," you murmur, reaching out to cup her cheek. "But I want to focus on you for a bit. I want to make you feel good."

Understanding dawns in Tara's eyes, and a slow, sultry smile spreads across her face. "Oh, is that so?" she purrs, leaning into your touch. "Well, far be it from me to deny you."

She shifts back on her knees, allowing you to sit up. Your cock twitches at the change in position, bobbing heavily between your legs. Tara's gaze is drawn to it, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

"Fuck, you're so hot," she breathes, her hand reaching out to wrap around you once more. "I can't believe I get to have you like this."

You groan at her touch, your hips rocking forward into her grip. But you force yourself to pull back, needing to maintain control. You reach out, gently pushing Tara onto her back, your body hovering over hers.

"Shh, just relax," you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. "Let me take care of you."

You start by kissing her deeply, your tongue delving into her mouth to taste her. Tara moans into the kiss, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You trail your lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

Tara arches beneath you, her breasts pressing against your chest. You can feel her nipples hardening, even through the fabric of her shirt. Your hand slips beneath the hem, your fingers skimming over the soft skin of her stomach.

Tara gasps as your hand slides higher, your fingers brushing against the underside of her breasts. You can feel the heat of her skin even through the fabric of her bra, and it makes your mouth water with the desire to taste her.

"Y/N," she breathes, her voice thick with need. "Please, touch me."

You don't need any more encouragement. Your hand cups her breast, your thumb brushing over her nipple and making it harden even more. Tara arches into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"Fuck, that feels good," she gasps, her hips bucking up against you. "Don't stop."

You switch to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. Tara's hands fist in the sheets beneath her, her body trembling with pleasure. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your cock throbbing with the need to be inside her.

But you resist, determined to make this about her pleasure. Your hand slides down her body, over her stomach and down to the waistband of her sweats. You hook your fingers under the fabric, tugging it down slowly.

Tara lifts her hips to help you, and soon she's lying before you, completely bare. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her, her skin glowing in the soft light of the room.

"You're so beautiful," you murmur, your hand sliding back up her thigh. "I can't believe I get to touch you like this."

Tara's cheeks flush at your words, a shy smile spreading across her face. "I'm glad it's you," she whispers. "I trust you, Y/N. I know you'll make me feel good."

Your fingers brush against her core, and she gasps, her hips bucking up into your touch. You circle her clit with your finger, feeling it grow harder under your touch.

"Oh fuck," Tara moans, her head falling back against the pillow. "That feels amazing."

You continue to tease her, your fingers dipping lower to brush against her entrance. She's wet and ready for you, and the knowledge makes your cock throb with need.

Tara's hips buck up against your hand, her body begging for more. You can feel her wetness coating your fingers, and it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to plunge them inside her.

Instead, you focus on her clit, circling it with your thumb while your fingers tease her entrance. Tara's moans fill the room, her hands fisting in the sheets beneath her as she arches into your touch.

"Please, Y/N," she gasps, her voice strained with need. "I need more. I need you inside me."

You can't resist her pleas any longer. Sliding two fingers inside her, you groan at the feel of her tight heat surrounding you. Tara cries out, her walls clenching around your digits as you pump them in and out.

"Fuck, you're so tight," you murmur, your thumb continuing to work her clit. "I love how you feel around my fingers."

Tara's hips move in time with your thrusts, her body taking you deeper with each pass. You can feel her getting closer, her breathing growing more ragged with each passing second.

"Y/N," she moans, her head thrashing on the pillow. "I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna come."

You redouble your efforts, your fingers moving faster, harder. Tara's body tenses beneath you, her walls fluttering around your fingers as she teeters on the edge.

"Come for me, baby," you encourage her, your voice rough with need. "Let go. I've got you."

With a cry that's almost primal, Tara comes undone. Her body bows off the bed, her back arching as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her. You continue to stroke her through it, prolonging her orgasm until she's a boneless heap beneath you.

As she comes down from her high, Tara looks up at you with hazy, satisfied eyes. "Holy shit," she breathes, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "That was incredible."

You grin down at her, feeling a sense of pride at having brought her such pleasure. But you’re still throbbing with need, and it won’t be go anywhere any time soon.

As the haze of post-orgasmic bliss starts to fade, Tara's gaze drifts down to your still-throbbing erection. Her eyes widen slightly, a mix of hunger and concern flickering across her face.

"Y/N," she murmurs, her hand reaching out to wrap around your shaft. "You're still so hard. Do you... do you want me to take care of that for you?"

You groan at her touch, your hips bucking up into her grip. The feel of her soft hand wrapped around your sensitive flesh is almost too much to bear. But you force yourself to take a deep breath, knowing that there's something important you need to address first.

"Wait," you say, gently removing her hand from your cock. "Before we go any further, we need to talk about protection."

Tara blinks up at you, a little confused. "Protection? What do you mean?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. This isn't exactly the sexiest topic, but it's a necessary one. "I mean condoms, Tara. We can't just jump into having sex without them. It's not safe."

A flicker of understanding crosses her face, followed by a sheepish grin. "Oh, right. Of course. I wasn't thinking straight."

You smile at her, relieved that she's on the same page. "It's okay. It's easy to get caught up in the moment. But we need to make sure we're being responsible.

Tara nods, her hand reaching for the nightstand drawer. She rummages around for a moment before pulling out a foil packet. "Looks like I'm prepared after all," she says with a wink.

You take the condom from her, tearing it open with your teeth. Tara watches as you roll it down over your shaft, her eyes darkening with desire at the sight.

"Fuck, that's hot," she murmurs, her hand wrapping around you once more. "Seeing you take charge like that."

You grin at her, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'm glad you approve. Now, where were we?"

Tara's eyes sparkle with mischief as she pulls you towards her, guiding you to lie on top of her once more. "I think we were right about here," she purrs, her legs parting invitingly.

The heat of her core radiates against your protected length, making you shiver with anticipation. You line yourself up with her entrance, teasing her with the tip of your cock.

"Are you ready for me?" you murmur, your breath hot against her neck.

Tara nods, her hips lifting in a silent plea. "I've never been more ready for anything in my life," she breathes, her nails digging into your shoulders.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, you push forward, feeling her tight heat envelop you. Tara gasps at the intrusion, her walls stretching to accommodate your size.

"Oh fuck," she moans, her head falling back against the pillow. "You're so big, Y/N. It feels amazing."

You groan at her words, the sensation of her tightness driving you wild. You start to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, setting a steady rhythm.

Tara meets your movements, her hips rising to greet each thrust. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, punctuated by your shared moans of pleasure.

"Harder," Tara gasps, her nails raking down your back. "Fuck me harder, Y/N."

You oblige, increasing the speed and force of your thrusts. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful drive of your hips.

Tara's legs wrap around your waist, her ankles locking at the small of your back. The new angle allows you to go even deeper, and you feel her tightening around you, signaling her impending release.

"Y/N," she cries out, her voice strained with pleasure. "I'm gonna come again. Don't stop, please don't stop."

You redouble your efforts, pounding into her with abandon. The feeling of her walls fluttering around you is almost too much to bear, and you can feel your own release building.

Tara cries out, her body arching off the bed as another orgasm rips through her. Her walls clamp down around you, milking your cock for all it's worth. The sensation is too much to bear, and with a final, guttural groan, you come undone.

Your hips stutter as you empty yourself inside the condom, your body shaking with the force of your release. Tara holds you close, her fingers threading through your hair as she whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

As you both come down from your highs, you collapse onto the bed, your bodies tangled together in a sweaty heap. Tara nuzzles into your neck, placing soft kisses along your jawline.

"That was incredible," she murmurs, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I've never felt anything like that before."

You grin at her, pulling her closer. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Because we're definitely doing that again.

Tara laughs, the sound bright and carefree. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she says, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest.

[lovingbarbariancomputer]

After finishing the last slice of dominos pizza, he leaned back, moaning submissively. Country music played as he writhed in a discomfort that transformed into pure, primal sexual energy. The pressure of his overly full belly pressed against his tight white tank top, lead to a new pressure in his white briefs beneath his worn out jeans.

With one hand reaching under his tank top, massaging his belly, he reached with his other hand into his pants. His dick begging for attention. He let out a low grunt as his hairy, rough hand wrapped around his pulsating dick. As he rubbed his small new layer of belly fat, he stroked his dick, already dripping precum.

He had never felt so fuckin good in his life. He didn’t know this kind of ecstasy was possible. Waves of warm sexual pleasure radiated from his dick, through his whole body, resonating in his hairy belly.

“What the fuck is happening in me” he grunted under his breath. But deep down, he knew.

It happened to all his buddies, now it’s his turn. The inevitable domestication of American men. For years he’s noticed all his bros gettin fatter and fatter. He couldn’t help himself but to look at their bellies. Put into a sort of primal sexual trance. At first it didn’t feel sexual. After all he never considered himself gay. But as the years passed, he found himself feeling pleasure as his buddies gradually passed 200 pounds. Almost as if he was hypnotized by the transformation.

And now that he was putting on the inevitable pounds, he noticed his buddies glancing at his new belly. Occasionally bringing up his weight gain, softly teasing him. And the drunker they got, the more attention they’d give to his belly. It would happen at least once per night. Poking it, placing a hand on it as they joke “you’re turning into one of us bro!” And every time there’s a last slice of pizza they say “come on bro someone’s gotta take it!” “It’s just a slice bro” “you’re a growin boy!” With their rural midwestern accent.

In fact, he noticed that these days, most hang out sessions with his buddies ended with them all stoned, drunk, and incredibly full. Incapacitated, watching movies. And he started to love it just as much as they did. He eventually started wearing briefs a size too small, so he could conceal his boner.

He took his hand off his belly, and stroked his dick slowly and gently. He grabbed another can of beer and chugged the whole can without taking his hand off his dick. And as he chugged the sexual pleasure continued to build, unlike anything he’d ever felt. He threw the empty can into the garbage across the room and slapped his belly, and immediately almost came. But he’s a good American fatboy, and he’s not ready to cum just yet.

He leaned forward and pulled his briefs over his dick, and grabbed the red flannel shirt on his chair. He pulled the sleeves over his arms, and began buttoning the shirt over his noticeably thicker belly. The shirt was tighter than before. He then pulled his pants up so that the shirt would be neatly tucked in. He stood there struggling to button his jeans, his new belly fat pressing against his hairy arms as he struggled to reach the button. eventually he got it to work. He felt his belly push out over his jeans. The tight pants made the size of his underbelly much more noticeable. He tried to suck it in, just for fun, to no effect.

“Time to go to Walmart and show all the other men what a good boy I’ve been” he said to himself with his deep voice.

[bloodrvvvsh]

I Have No Shame. | Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Spencer joins the Mile High Club with your help.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Warnings: Handjobs, semi-public sex, they get caught (sort of?), soft sub!Spencer, soft dom!Reader, Spencer being a whimpering whining mess, facials, cum eating, established relationship, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, honey, good boy), literally so much praise, a little bit of crying from Spencer, like one (1) use of Y/N, slight dumbification, begging

Word count: 1.5K

Notes: My first Spencer fic wow!!!! It’s been so long since I’ve written an actual fic, I missed it so much. Anyways I hope you all enjoy! For this I imagined like s1-s4 Spence but could technically be interpreted as any season

Cross-posted on A03.

Spencer Reid was not a bold man.

In fact, he would go as far to say he was the total opposite. At least, in his personal life he certainly was. He never made the first move, always waiting for that perfect time that never came.

He didn’t like taking risks. Even calculated ones were too much for him sometimes. So he stayed in his little bubble of comfort and safety. He liked it there. Sure, it might make him the subject of a bit of teasing and he missed out on a few things, but at the end of the day he still liked it there.

Until he met you.

You were everything he wasn’t. Outgoing, daring, bold. In some ways, you could even be described as a bit of an adrenaline junkie. It’s actually partly what led you to joining the FBI. You liked the thrill, the high stakes, the way it got your blood pumping when you had to chase down a criminal on the loose. 

You lived for taking risks. The idea of never truly knowing what might happen made your spine tingle, every one of your hairs stand on. There wasn’t a better feeling than feeling a little sick to your stomach with nerves and excitement for you.

It's an interesting dynamic you and Spencer had - he was all for playing it safe and keeping to himself, while you could be a wildcard. Spencer learned that very quickly after you two started dating. And while it wasn’t that you were trying to change him (you would never!), you were simply opening him up to things he wouldn’t have thought twice about.

Everyone else on the jet was fast asleep. Slumped over and curled up in positions that would certainly give them a knot in their neck later. Spencer had his head laid over your lap, curls sprawled across your thighs while you mindlessly twirled the strands around your fingers. 

You were still wide awake. The rush of the case just closed still ran hot through your veins. You’d most definitely crash later once in the sanctity of your apartment, but for now you were full of energy. You tried to distract yourself by staring out the jet window, watching the world go by, but it wasn’t working.

You glanced down at the pretty boy sprawled across you like a sleeping angel and a little thought popped into your head. You shifted in your seat, sitting up straighter, before you gently threaded your fingers into Spencer’s hair. Your nails scraped across his scalp and you almost swore you could have heard a little purr rumble in his chest.

You leaned over him, breathing slowly in vain attempt to settle your already racing heart. “Spence,” you crooned softly. “Spencer, wake up, baby.” Once Spencer actually fell asleep, he was a fairly light sleeper. It didn’t take much before he was stirring awake with a quiet groan.

“What is it?” he asked, voice thick with sleep. His hands raised to rub at his eyes and you could only smile. “Did we land?”

“No,” you said a little too quickly, “No, I just..” You trailed off a little as your teeth sunk down on your bottom lip. “I had an idea.” You stood to your feet and offered your hand out to him. He quirked an eyebrow, glancing between your face and outstretched hand, before slowly placing his in your grasp.

There was a little bit of a bounce in your steps as you led him in the direction of the bathroom and in that moment, Spencer regretted agreeing to whatever you were about to do. He squeezed your hand and you tossed  him a smile that reeked of mischief over your shoulder.

It was a tight squeeze once inside. Because, like most airplane bathrooms, it was meant to only fit one person at a time. That didn’t stop a lot of people, though. And you were one of them.

You crashed your lips against his the minute the door locked behind the two of you. It was hot, full of passion and lust as your hands roamed over his body. He whimpered softly against your lips before relaxing into the kiss. His hands were warm and broad against your body, sending shivers down your spine.

You didn’t waste time when you wanted something, and you wanted him right here and now. Your hands drifted until they hit their target - his belt. You broke for air, panting heavy and hard, as you tried to make quick work of shedding the layers between you and his dick.

“Y/N-” he gasped. “Wait, wait-” He took hold of your wrists, halting your movements. His eyebrows pinched together and his bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly. “What if we get caught?”

You grinned at him. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to be quiet so we won’t.” You knew just how much of a struggle it was for Spencer to keep himself under control when he was feeling good. The noise complaints from your neighbors were proof enough. 

Your hand dipped into his pants and underwear and you tried to suppress the smirk that threatened to spread over your face when you wrapped your fingers for his half-hard cock. He gasped, but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth when you shot him a look.

His eyes rolled back as you began to stroke along his length. Your thumb brushed over the tip, smearing the pre-cum gathering and Spencer’s knees buckled. Your pace was slow, almost languid, teasing.

“Please,” Spencer whined. You grinned once more.

“Please what?” you murmured. You leaned even closer to him, somehow, hovering over his lips. You were both breathing heavily and practically sharing breaths. You took a moment to look over his adorably flushed face. “You’re so pretty, Spence..”

“Please.” He wasn’t even sure what he was begging for, pleasure clouding his usually bright mind. “Please, please, pl-ease.” His voice cracked when you sped up, his head lulling back. “F-feels so good, oh god.”

You cooed at the state of him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Faux pity coated your words, making Spencer whine again. “Come on, use your words, honey. I can’t read minds.” You snickered.

His hand jumped to grab your wrist, not to stop you, no. He was too far gone to stop you now. He simply held it there, keeping a tight grip on you as you jerked his cock. 

He looked like a total mess. An absolutely stunning mess, but a mess nonetheless. Curls sticking to his forehead and cheeks, plush lips parted in soft moans, eyes squeezed tight, face flushed shades of red. His hips arched into your touch, cock twitching in your hold.

“Are you gonna cum?” you asked and he nodded frantically. His lips twitched into a soft frown as tears began to well in his big brown eyes. God, he always the prettiest he was all dumb and fucked out. “Good boy,” you crooned at him.

You dropped down to your knees. You finally freed his dick from the confines of his underwear and he hissed at the feeling of the cold air. You didn’t waste a moment to resume your ministrations.

“Look at me, Spencer,” you commanded and he immediately followed the order. He nearly lost it at the sight of you on your knees before him. “Good boy, that’s it..” You picked up the pace even further, hand almost a blur stroking him.

“I’m- I’m gonna-” he stumbled over his words, unable to even form proper words as the pleasure grew. You shook your head.

“Do it, Spence,” you commanded again. “You can do it. Cum all over my face, pretty boy.” And that’s all it took for Spencer to tumble right over the edge. He tightened his grip on your wrist, back arching as he spilled over your face in thick spurts.

You worked him through his orgasm, stroking slow and gently, until he began to whine from overstimulation. You slowly rose to your feet and Spencer was already offering you paper towels to clean yourself. You ran a finger through one of the streaks of cum on your face and brought it to your lips, eyes fluttering shut and soft groans escaping you as you tasted him.

When you opened your eyes again, he was beet-red and looking oh-so shy and cute. You giggled. You gladly took the paper towels and began to wipe away the remnants of his cum.

You connected your lips in a chaste kiss when you were finished, making him blush even more. “You did such a good job, angel,” you praised before pressing another kiss to his lips. He tucked himself back into his jeans and buckled them back up. You entangled your fingers together, leading him out of the bathroom.

You made your way back to your seats, a sense of satisfaction settled in your chest. “Reid?” The call of your boyfriend’s name had you both glancing back to see Hotch awake in one of the jet chairs. “Don’t do that again”

Heat washed over both of your cheeks and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to hide the growing smile on your lips. “Yes, sir,” Spencer said with a nod of his head.

At least you had fun.

[kenacoki]

Rain Check

//Pairing// Eddie Diaz x Reader

//Summary// The five times Eddie Diaz tries to ask you out.

//Word Count// 6.97k

//Warnings// none!

//Request// requesting a eddie x reader , 5 times eddie has asked you out and you say no and the one time you say yes. (or something like that idk i’ve seen fics like that and love the idea) maybe reader is a teacher at Christopher’s school ??

//Dividers// sister-lucifer

I.

“I wanna thank everyone for coming today!”

Your (e/c) colored eyes nervously dance around the small, cramped classroom. There are about twenty or so parents currently occupying the desks of your fifth-grade students. As your gentle voice pierces the air, the room falls silent, and all eyes hall on your anxious form.

Oh dear god…please don’t vomit.

You feel your nerves skyrocket as you rub your sweaty palms against the fabric of your pants. You take a shaky breath and swallow, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"As the new teacher for the fifth-grade class, I wanted to meet with you and discuss your children's progress and what I think is next to come in the school year for them." You glance around the classroom, trying to make eye contact with everyone at least once.

For the most part, the adults in the room remain quiet. Most of them are at least moderately invested in what you are saying. You gesture towards a bulletin board at the back of the room as your eyes fall on a handsome figure.

The man's honey-colored irises are trained on you, his facial expression completely neutral. He's one of the few parents who isn't sitting down, instead leaning against a wall with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His biceps are on full display in the snug-fitting t-shirt he's wearing. His short, dark brown hair is perfectly tousled. As you meet his gaze he gives you a subtle, almost unidentifiable once-over.

Good God, he's attractive.

You try to ignore the small burst of butterflies that explode in your stomach, quickly looking away to continue your pre-rehearsed speech.

"As I'm sure you're all aware, this is the last year that your children will be with me before they move on to middle school." You gesture towards some of the younger children, watching as they all look at you with wide-eyed interest.

"They are all incredibly bright, smart, and sweet kids," you continue, a small smile on your face as you speak. "I'm so excited to see what the future holds for them."

You can’t help but jump as the bell suddenly rings, signaling the end of the parent-teacher conference.

"That's all the time we have today," you say, taking a deep breath as you watch the parents stand up and begin to leave. "If you haven't done so already, I've left some signup sheets for class volunteers on the table by the door. Please feel free to sign up to help at your convenience."

You watch as the parents start to leave, the students trailing behind them with excited grins on their faces. A few remain behind, talking amongst themselves as they gather their things.

The handsome man you took notice of earlier pushes himself off of the wall and begins to make his way towards you.

You internally curse yourself as you feel a wave of nervousness wash over you.

Okay, dumbass. Get yourself together.

You take a small step away from your desk, straightening your spine and trying to appear as composed as possible as he stops in front of you.

“I’m uh, Edmundo Diaz. Eddie,” he says, a rough edge in his voice that you find completely entrancing.

God, even his name is attractive.

You fight to keep a neutral expression as he holds his hand out; you try to discreetly wipe your clammy palms on your pants before you take it. His grip is strong, and you nearly gasp at the feeling of his rough calloused fingers against your skin.

“It's nice to meet you, Mr. Diaz-” you begin, but he quickly interrupts you.

“Eddie.”

There's a firmness in his tone that sends chills down your spine, and you pause for a moment before you continue.

“It's nice to meet you, Eddie. You’re uh, you’re Christopher’s father, right?”

Eddie nods, pulling his hand from yours as he stuffs them in the pockets of his tight jeans. “That’s right. How’s he doing?”

You swallow, trying to keep yourself focused as you speak. “Christopher is such a wonderful kid. He’s incredibly smart and so sweet. Honestly…” You lower your voice, leaning closer to him. “ I’ve never met a fifth grader—or any kid for that matter—who’s as kind and polite as he is.”

Eddie’s smirk only grows, the corner of his mouth curled up into an almost cocky smile. “Chris is an amazing kid,” he says, his eyes raking over your form. “He’s better than I ever was at his age, that’s for sure.”

You shift on your feet, your nerves going haywire as his eyes travel up to meet yours. “He’s an absolute pleasure to have in class,” you respond, your heart fluttering when his gaze doesn’t move. “I’m positive he’s going to do great things in the future.”

Your eyes catch the LAFD emblem on his shirt, “just like his father it seems.”

Eddie lets out a chuckle, a low, husky sound that makes your knees weak. “You’re a charmer,” he says, taking a small step closer. “Do you always compliment the parents of your students?”

The sudden proximity of his body makes your pulse quicken as his scent slowly fills your nostrils.

He even smells good…god, what’s that scent?

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm and collected. “I’m just being honest,” you respond, ignoring the way your voice slightly wavers. You glance up at the clock on the wall, “Anyways, it was a pleasure to meet you Eddie, but I’ve—“

“would you want to go out for coffee sometime?”

The words immediately die in your throat, your heart nearly stops. For a second you honestly think you hallucinated the sound of his voice, but the expectant look in his eyes makes it very clear that he actually spoke.

You blink a few times, your voice caught in your throat. “What?”

Eddie’s smile grows, his gaze never leaving yours. “Coffee,” he repeats. “Would you want to go get a cup sometime?”

You stand frozen, completely dumbfounded. You honestly didn’t expect him to say that, and yet here he is; a charming, hot-as-hell, firefighter asking you out.

“I—I-“ you stumble over your words, your cheeks heating as his eyes roam over your face, “I can’t.”

Eddie’s smile quickly fades from his, his confident demeanor faltering. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” your words rush out, your cheeks still stained a deep red. “It’s just…I kind of have a rule about not dating parents of my students, you know?”

Eddie just nods his head, that unreadable expression on his face once again. “Yeah,” he says gruffly; the same firm edge back in his voice. “Don’t apologize, I get it.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, a gnawing feeling in your stomach that tells you you’ve made a mistake. “Because—”

But Eddie just gives you a dismissive wave of the hand, “It’s fine. Student’s parents and yadda yadda—I get it. I’ll see you around.” He gives you one last look, a small smile on his lips before he turns on his heel and walks towards the door.

You watch as he leaves, a feeling of dread settling in your chest.

“Goddammit…” You let out a groan, burying your face in your hands as you curse yourself for rejecting him.

“Hey Siri, add wine to my shopping list.”

II.

“Hi, can I just get an iced coffee? Thank you.”

the barista takes your order as you move off to the side of the line, awkwardly picking at the skin around your fingers. You bounce your leg anxiously as you glance up at the clock on the wall.

7:35 am

You’ve gotta be getting to the school—

You're snapped from your thoughts as you hear the door to the coffee shop open behind you; the small bell attached jingling in the air. As you glance over your shoulder, your eyes widen as they land on a familiar form.

Eddie stops in the doorway, eyes widening slightly in surprise as he looks at you. For a moment you just stand there, looking at each other, neither of you saying a word until the barista behind you speaks up and snaps you both into focus.

“Uh, your total is $2.50.”

You turn back towards the barista, hastily looking for a few dollars in your purse to hand them.

“Fancy running into you here.”

You can feel Eddie’s presence behind you, his voice low and rough. He pulls his debit card from his wallet and hands it to the barista.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” you start to protest, but Eddie just shakes his head slightly, interrupting you.

“I got it, don't worry about it.”

“I…thank you.”

The barista hands you your coffee as they take Eddie’s order.

“I’ll just take a large black coffee.”

Both of you stand there awkwardly for a moment, neither of you saying a word. It’s not like there is a lack of things to say or talk about- there are about a dozen things you want to ask him right now. But for some reason, the words just won’t come out.

“So uh….“ Eddie seems just as awkward as you do, his eyes never quite meeting yours as he shoves his hands deep in his pockets, “I’m sorry, about yesterday. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, asking you out like that.”

“I wasn’t—“ you cut yourself off, shaking your head slightly, “I appreciate the gesture, it’s just…” you fidget with the cup in your hand as you speak, struggling to find the words to describe your thoughts.

“Yeah I know,” Eddie sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t date parents of your students. It’s a good rule, a sensible one.”

“Right, it’s, uh yeah…” You look down at the coffee in your hand, fiddling with the little cardboard cupholder. You can feel his gaze on you, the weight of his eyes making you antsy.

“I’ve gotta get to the school—“

“What if I took you out for lunch?”

His question catches you off guard. You have to pause for a moment, processing his words.

“I-” you stutter, not sure how to respond. Your brain is screaming at you to say no, but at the same time, you can’t deny the thrill running through you at the thought.

“Black coffee for Diaz.”

The interruption causes Eddie to turn and face the barista. Glancing back towards the door, you take this as your chance to make a break, hastily slinking away.

“Wait-”

Eddie whips around to stop you, but you’re already halfway out the door, the little bell giving you away. He watches you go, a frustrated yet somewhat amused look on his face as he holds his cup.

“Uh sir, that’s gonna be $3.00…”

III.

The large mall is teeming with people, parents, and families going in and out of shops, or rushing past in order to reach their next destination. You look down at the shopping bags in your hands and groan softly under your breath. You had been here since 9 this morning, and you were already exhausted. And yet, you still had more shopping to do.

You take a step inside the store, immediately surrounded by various school supplies, decorations, and books. It’s a relatively small store, the aisles narrow, but the walls are lined with countless materials to use in the classroom.

You let out a small sigh as you look through the aisles, your face dropping when you read some of the prices.

“Jesus…how do teachers afford some of this stuff?”

You make your way through the store, slowly gathering a few supplies; dry erase markers, a new class calendar, and a few books to add to your library. The list in your pocket grows smaller with each thing you pick up.

You’re standing in an aisle debating over some new math flash cards when a voice suddenly sounds from behind you.

“Miss. (L/N)!”

Christopher…?

You quickly whip around, eyes widening as a smile forms on your face. Sure enough, there, standing in the middle of the store is your student Christopher; Eddie’s son.

“Chris!” You exclaim, walking over to the boy. “What are you doing here?”

Christopher stands there, a massive grin on his face as he looks up at you. “Dad and I are shopping!” he responds, his voice filled with excitement, “I was supposed to be helping him, but I kinda lost him.”

The realization that Eddie is around somewhere immediately sinks in, causing your heart rate to spike.

You quickly glance around, hoping and praying that Eddie is nowhere in sight. But as you look up, you spot a familiar mop of dark brown hair in the next aisle over.

You watch as Eddie looks over a few items in his hand, seemingly unaware of your presence. You can just barely see his face from your position, but notice he’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a tight-fitting dark blue shirt. Your eyes rake over his form, taking in the way his clothes cling to his muscles, making it almost impossible for you to look away.

You swallow hard, forcing your attention back to Christopher, who is still smiling up at you.

“So have you been helping your dad shop today?” you say, praying that your voice doesn’t give you away. “Have you helped him pick out any good stuff?”

“Yeah!” Christopher exclaims. “We got new shoes for me,” he points down at the new vans on his feet. “And we got some new video games. We’re gonna get pizza later too.”

You nod along, listening to him, but your brain is still trying to process the fact that Eddie is so incredibly close to you right now.

“Christopher Diaz.” an all too familiar voice calls out.

Your head immediately snaps toward the end of the aisle, and your heart nearly stops. Eddie is standing there, a stern look on his face as he walks towards the two of you. He stops just a few feet away from you both, his gaze fixed on his son, who awkwardly fidgets beside you.

“Chris,” Eddie says, his tone firm yet soft at the same time. “I told you not to go over here. You could’ve gotten lost.”

Christopher’s expression twists, a sheepish look on his face as he looks up at his dad. “I got distracted,” he mumbles.

Eddie shoots his son a look, but his expression softens slightly as he looks up and sees you standing there.

There’s a moment of tense silence as Eddie’s eyes connect with yours, his intense gaze sweeping over you, making your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes locked on yours as he stands there; his hands in his pockets and his muscles tensing beneath his shirt.

Oh my god, how does he look so-

You almost forget how to breathe as Eddie’s eyes rake over you, your hands gripping your shopping bags tightly to the point you’re worried you’ll rip them.

“Hey.”

Eddie’s voice cuts through the silence, sending chills down your spine.

“Hi…” you respond, your voice weak. Christ, what is wrong with you right now?

Eddie looks down at the items in your hands, his eyes lingering on the ‘teacher store’ bags.

“Shopping for school supplies?” he asks, taking a step closer to you.

You nod in response, your voice not quite working. Eddie’s proximity makes it extremely difficult to think or speak, your heart fluttering against your chest.

You can practically feel his presence towering over you; a heat radiating off his body as his gaze is still locked on you. The urge to squirm under his look is almost too strong to ignore, your knees feeling weak.

“Yeah,” you finally respond, your voice slightly hoarse. “There’s a lot of stuff I still needed to pick up…”

Eddie nods, his eyes drifting down to your hands. Suddenly, he takes a step even closer, making your breath hitch in your throat as his shadow engulfs you. It takes every ounce of willpower that you have not to shiver under his gaze right now.

Without a word, Eddie carefully pries the bags from your hands, slowly taking them from you.

You feel your pulse skyrocket as his fingers graze against your skin, your brain short-circuiting as he takes the bags from your grasp.

“Uh…” is the only sound you manage to get out, your heart thudding against your ribcage.

What the hell is he doing?

Eddie doesn’t say anything as he takes the bags from you, his fingers grazing yours for a few extra moments before he takes a step back. He looks down at the bags in his hands, a smirk appearing on his face as he speaks.

“I’ll take these,” he says, his tone slightly nonchalant. “You can go finish your shopping.”

His words catch you off guard, and it takes a moment for you to process what he’s just said. “I…what?” you respond, still not quite believing he’s actually offering to do that.

Eddie just shrugs his shoulders, a casual look on his face. “You said there was more you had to pick up, right?” he replies, “So go do it. I’ll just follow behind you and carry the bags for ya.”

You can’t deny how attractive this is; the way he’s just casually offering to carry your shopping bags for you. But at the same time, this also feels…odd. You’re sure this has to be some kind of flirting tactic that he’s using.

But, you’re hardly complaining. If it means you get to spend more time with Eddie, you’re sure as hell not going to argue with it.

“Are you sure?” you ask, uncertainty in your tone.

Eddie just nods a smirk still on his face. "Of course, I don't mind at all," he responds, shifting his weight to one leg. "Consider it a favor for all those good grades you're giving my kid."

You let out a soft laugh, a slight tension in your shoulders lessening.

"Well, I guess if you insist..."

Eddie gives you a small smile, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment. He then looks down at Christopher, who has been quietly standing beside you throughout this entire exchange.

"Go look at some video games for me, buddy," he instructs his son. "I'll be right there in a minute."

"Okay!" Chris responds, shooting you a quick grin before he turns and walks away, disappearing down an aisle of electronics.

Eddie looks back towards you, his gaze focused solely on you now.

"So, what else is on your list?" he says, shifting the bags in his hand.

You blink a few times, forcing yourself to focus. It’s incredibly difficult to do when he’s standing this close, and looking at you with those dark eyes--

“Uhhh…” you falter, struggling to remember what on earth you had even needed. “More…flash cards, I think…” you respond, your words coming out slightly shaky.

Eddie nods, his eyes still locked on you. “Flashcards,” he repeats, the smirk still on his face.

He jerks his chin slightly, signaling for you to start walking. “Lead the way then.”

You swallow hard, nodding silently as you start walking down the aisle, your heart beating hard. It’s almost difficult to focus on walking properly with Eddie right behind you, so close you can almost feel his breath on your neck.

Luckily, you manage to locate the flashcards fairly easily, picking up a few different sets to add to your collection.

You quickly move on to the next item on your list, your footsteps almost robotic as you keep your eyes firmly ahead. You can feel Eddie’s presence behind you, his footsteps slightly heavier than yours despite his more casual demeanor.

Finally, you reach the last item on your list; push pins. You pick a few packs up, looking them over before adding them to your bag.

You let out a soft breath when you finally finish picking up everything you need. You turn around, coming face to face with Eddie.

“Damn, school supplies are a lot more expensive than I thought they were,” he comments, looking back up at you. “You must be planning on spending a fortune on all this stuff.”

You huff out a quiet laugh, looking down at all the items in his arms. “You’re not wrong,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders. “I’ve gotta practically sell my soul to pay for all of it, but the kids are worth it.”

“We can go check out now.” You gesture with your head towards the register.

God his arms look so good right now…

Eddie nods, readjusting the bags in his hands, “Lead the way, sweetheart."

You swear your heart stops for a second at the endearment, your throat going dry. Taking a deep breath, you turn and start heading towards the register.

As you reach it, your chest is fluttering like crazy as Eddie follows closely behind. You place the items on the counter and pay for them, the entire time forcing yourself to keep your eyes on the items in front of you and not on the man right behind you.

You finish paying, taking your receipt and shoving it deep into your pocket. You turn to take your bags from Eddie’s outstretched arms, praying he doesn’t notice your shaking hands.

“There you go,” Eddie says, his voice light and casual. “All done with your shopping.”

You nod, gripping the bags tightly, “Y-yeah, I’m all done,” you respond, your voice wavering slightly. Eddie's eyes flick over your face, an undecipherable look on his face.

He just silently watches you for a moment. then after a beat, he shoves his hands into his pockets, the casual smile back on his face.

Your heart is thudding against your ribcage; every word you want to say is caught in your throat right now. Just as you open your mouth to speak, however, Eddie’s voice interrupts you.

“Chris and I are gonna head up to the food court. Would you, uh…would you want to join us?”

The question catches you off guard, your breath hitching in your throat.

For a moment, you freeze, your brain short-circuiting as you try to process the implications. You want to say yes; spending more time with Eddie is a very tempting proposal. But it’s also a risky one.

“I-i would, really—but I can’t.”

The immediate flash of disappointment that crosses Eddie’s face is almost devastating.

Oh my god I think I would rather die than see this man sad

“Oh.” He says, his voice surprisingly soft. He lets out a breath that sounds almost like a scoff, his gaze flicking away from you for a moment.

“Yeah, of course,” Eddie finally looks back at you, an artificial smile on his face. “You must be pretty busy, yeah?”

Your heart breaks at the look of disappointment on his face, almost making you regret declining his offer.

But you know that you can’t accept it. The risk is just too high; too much could go wrong.

“Yeah,” you respond, trying your best to sound nonchalant. “I’ve got…lots of stuff to do. Lesson plans to write and stuff.”

Eddie just nods, still forcing a small smile, “Right, right. Makes sense. You should probably get on that then…”

Why do I feel like such crap now?

“Right,” you finally force out. “Bye, Eddie.”

You turn away, your heart pounding as you start walking away. For a split second, you want to look back behind you, want to see the expression on Eddie’s face. But you know deep down that it’ll probably make the aching pain in your chest even worse, so you don’t look back.

This sucks.

IV.

The fourth time you run into Eddie Diaz, you’re convinced that the universe is playing a cruel trick on you.

You had decided to go to a nearby park in order to try and get into the grading groove. The park is practically empty, just the occasional stranger walking by. You’re so caught up in a paper on Ancient Rome that you don’t even notice footsteps approaching.

“What’re you working on?” A low, gruff voice comes from your side. You look and see a very familiar, sweaty face, and pair of dark eyes looking down at the papers in your lap.

“Eddie?” You say, surprised to see him standing next to you out of the blue like this. You can’t help but notice the shimmer of sweat glistening off his body; was he running? His shirt clings to his muscular body and beads of sweat roll down his neck and face.

He nods his head slightly, taking in your appearance, how you’re wearing a soft t-shirt and some leggings, your hair lightly disheveled, “Yeah...I was out for a run.” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face, and your eyes follow the movement, watching the way his arm flexes as he moves it. You quickly snap your gaze back down to the paper in your hand as he looks back at you.

“So…what are you working on?” Eddie repeats his question, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and look at the papers you’re still holding.

“Just doing some last-minute grading before the semester ends.” You admit, tucking a strand of your (h/c) behind your ear.

“You work on your day off?” He teases.

“I’m a good teacher, what can I say.” You say in mock defensiveness, placing a hand against your chest.

He laughs softly, the smirk on his face doing all kinds of things to your insides, “Clearly.” You give him a playful push on the shoulder, but the contact does nothing to stop the way you shiver as your hand brushes against the bare skin on his arm.

He runs his tongue across his lips, his eyes roaming your body.

You try and ignore his gaze as you look down at the paper in your hand. You’re suddenly very self-conscious about the outfit you’re wearing, all too aware of the sweat that’s coating Eddie’s body, the way his eyes are moving over you like he’s undressing you right here on the park bench.

“What if, after you get done with your grading…we go get some ice cream?”

The question catches you off guard. You look back at him, your expression a cross between confusion and surprise.

“Ice cream?” you repeat as if to make sure you heard him correctly.

“Yeah.” He’s got a lopsided grin on his face as he watches you. “Ice cream, at the stand around the corner here. C’mon, it’s hot out, you deserve a break after all this hard work.”

You glance down at the papers in your hand, contemplating what to do. You still have quite a bit of work left to get done, but Eddie is giving you that look again, almost daring you to agree, and for some reason, you’re tempted to throw caution to the wind. Yet…you can’t.

“I’d love to,” you start, and the surprised look on his face would be almost comical if you weren’t already internally wincing, “but I’ve still got a lot of grading left to do, and...” You pause for a moment, struggling to find an excuse to say no while not fully rejecting him. “And, I have that teacher’s seminar thing tomorrow so I gotta make sure I get some sleep tonight.”

It’s a pathetic excuse, and you know it. Judging from the expression on his face, Eddie knows it too. But he doesn’t call you out, just nods his head slightly.

“Yeah I get it, I guess I’ll let you get back to your…” he glances down at the papers in your hand, “papers. See ya around, (y/n).”

You’re just about to tell him to wait, to throw caution to the wind and agree to the ice cream. But he starts to move away, jogging towards the opening of the park.

You watch as he goes.

You know you made the right choice, even if a part of you doesn’t agree. You go back to grading, trying to ignore the way your skin still tingles from when you touched him.

V.

“Are you guys ready?!”

There’s a chorus of cheers from the kids. You can practically feel the excitement coming from them. They’ve been looking forward to this experiment for well over a week.

“Okay okay! Everyone stands behind the line!” You call, and the class scrambles back so they’re standing behind the white line you had taped down in the grass.

“Okay! On three everyone, one…two…thr—ow!” You feel a tiny pinch on your neck. Instinctively, you swat at your neck and see a dead honey bee lying in your palm.

“Ooh Miss. (L/N) it stung you!”

“Are you okay Miss. (L/N)?”

“Did it hurt?”

The kids have surrounded you now, and are talking over each other, their voices filling with concern and worry.

You hold up the small dead bee, trying to reassure your students. “I’m okay, it was just a tiny bee.” You assure them, but it doesn’t do much to ease the worried looks on their faces

You can feel a small bump forming where you got stung, already starting to hurt and burn.

“Why don’t you guys go count down from 10 in the line? You still get to see the big boom.” You shoo them into the row, all of them giving you concerned glances on the way.

As they count, you crave to find some sort of relief for your neck. It had started to hurt more than you expected, and it felt like the spot where you were stung was even starting to throb a bit.

“2...1!!!” You hear from the class as they finish their countdown. Your eyes widen in anticipation as you wait for the explosion from the small baking soda and vinegar volcano.

And sure enough, there is an explosion and a burst of purple lava-like foam from the vinegar and baking soda concoction. The kids cheer in excitement, pointing at the display before them.

You’d probably enjoy watching the joy on their faces more if you weren’t still struggling with the pain in your neck.

Something…something’s wrong.

You put a hand to your neck, rubbing it slightly, as the kids continue to gaze excitedly at the mess they just caused. Something was starting to feel off…and not just in your neck. The pain and the burning sensation from the sting was starting to grow and intensify, feeling as if it was running through your entire body. The pain in your neck is now excruciating, and you swear you can feel your chest start to get tighter.

You start to feel dizzy, the kids becoming a blur before your eyes. The noise around you is starting to become muffled and everything seems to be spinning a bit too fast.

“Call—call for help…” That's when everything goes black.

When you finally come to, everything is a haze at first. The first thing you become aware of is the beeping noise piercing your ear and the strong smell of antiseptic.

It takes a moment for your eyes to focus and actually look around. Once your vision adjusts, you become aware of the white walls around you, the sterile equipment. You’re in a hospital.

Flashes of what happened slowly start to return to you. You remember doing the science experiment with the kids, the bee, the pain, and then...nothing.

You lay there, (e/c) eyes staring up at the white ceiling, the memory of the kids running through your mind. Your heart almost stops. How are the kids?! Are they okay? They must have freaked out when you passed out.

The need to know if they’re okay overpowers you, and you push yourself up in the bed, the beeps from the heart monitor quickening in pace as you try to sit up, only to immediately be stopped by a firm voice

“Woah there, woah. You should probably stay still, you got some pretty strong drugs in you.”

Your eyes dart to the sound of the voice, and suddenly Eddie is standing there to your right, looking down at you, a concerned look on his face.

“E-Eddie…?” You say, unable to hide the surprise from your voice. He’s the last person you expect to see in the hospital room.

Why was he here?

“Yeah, it’s me.” He says, a soft comforting look on his face. He steps closer to the bed now, stopping right by the side of it, looking down at you. You swear you see him swallow a lump in his throat, “How are you feeling?”

You’re about to make a sarcastic remark about the strong pain meds that are currently running through your system, but the look on his face stops you. The concern and the worry that’s present is more than any casual parent should have, and it surprises you.

“Okay…I think. I’m a bit fuzzy right now, and my neck hurts a bit.”

He nods slightly, his eyes roaming your face, checking what you assume he can in the state you’re in. “Well that’s to be expected…ya know it was me and the rest of the 118 that responded to the call.”

He’s standing so close now, his body practically towering over you. A small lump forms in your throat at the revelation that it was him and his team that had responded to the call, it was them who had probably saved your life…he was probably the one who had saved you.

Eddie reaches a hand out now, almost as if he’s going to touch you but hesitates last minute, letting it drop to his side. He looks unsure, a strange look for the usually confident man.

“The, uh, the kids are safe,” he says, and a sense of relief washes over you. “There was some…chaos once you passed out, a few of them started crying, but they’re okay now, Buck was able to calm most of them down.”

“I-I just, I wanted to check on you.” His voice is low and quiet, you’d almost think he’s uncomfortable. And then it hits you. This man, this man who stands before you, a wall of muscle and toughness, actually looks almost nervous. It's endearing and sweet...and strangely attractive.

“Listen,” he spares a glance out into the hallway of the hospital, “I’ve gotta go, but when you get released…you really should let me take you out.”

His words are so unexpected that you think you actually hear him wrong. But it’s not a dream at all, or the meds that are running through you. Eddie looks at you, a soft, pleading look on his face, as he waits for your answer.

For a moment you’re so shocked that you can’t even speak. Eddie’s already got your head spinning at the best of days, the fact that he's asking you out right now is almost too much for you to process. In a weak moment, you’re tempted to just give in…but you can’t.

“I—I can’t…” you practically whisper, and the expression on Eddie’s face is almost enough to make you change your mind. He looks like a puppy that’s just been kicked. “I-I appreciate the offer Eddie…but we both know it’s not a good idea.”

He looks down at the ground, the disappointment present on his face. He nods his head slightly as if to agree with you, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to. He clenches his jaw, and swallows, looking back up to you, the pleading look in his brown doe eyes slightly stronger now.

“I-okay.”

You have to bite your tongue to keep yourself from taking it back, from telling him that yes, yes you’ll go out with him. You watch as he stands there for a moment longer, wanting to say something else, but stops himself, turns away, and leaves the hospital room.

You feel your heart sink as he leaves, a feeling of guilt and disappointment washing over you. You know that your reasons for saying ‘No’ are good ones—great ones! But still, as he walks off…

You already regret saying it.

VI.

This…this is violating so many different ethics laws.

you hastily walk down the street, “Oh my god, I’m gonna lose my job for this.”

So what if went back to your emergency forms and got the Diaz’s address? It’s not like it makes you a stalker.

…right?

as much as you try and tell yourself, you know you shouldn’t be doing this, and yet no part of you wants to stop.

You’re so lost in your thoughts, that it’s a miracle you don’t miss the street where Christopher lives. Walking on, you suddenly feel a drop of rain splash against your face.

Looking up at the sky, you see black clouds moving in rapidly, “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

As you turn the corner, you see the street numbers slowly rising as you get closer to the one that matches Christopher’s house. Your heart is racing, and you start walking even faster, the rain starting to come down in heavy sheets.

Once you finally reach Christopher’s house, you stop, staring at the front door. All the doubts that have been nagging at you in the back of your mind start to come back in full force.

You shouldn’t be here.

And yet, you are.

You take a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare yourself to knock on the door. You’re already so far down this rabbit hole, might as well dig deeper, right?

With a trembling hand, you reach up and knock on the door, the sound of the rain getting louder as the moments pass. You hold your breath as you wait for an answer, feeling every second tick by.

The seconds feel like minutes, and the rain starts to get worse, until finally, you hear the door unlocking.

The door swings open, and Eddie stands there, his eyes widening in obvious surprise as he sees you standing there. The rain is falling faster now, and you can feel the cold drops hitting and drenching your clothes.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Eddie asks, the confusion obvious in the tone of his voice. You look like a complete and utter drowned rat, hair soaked, body starting to shiver. How long had you been standing out in the rain for?

“I want you to go out with me!” You shout over the heavy rain.

Eddie’s expression morphs into almost complete shock, his eyes widening and his mouth hanging open. He stares at you, clearly not having expected that at all. You stand there, looking up at him, and your face is drenched with rain, water dripping from your hair and running down your face, but you don’t care, because all you can focus on is the man in front of you as you nervously ramble.

“I-I completely understand if you don’t want to. You’ve asked me out so many times and I’ve turned you down repeatedly, but after the other day I-i just couldn’t—“

You’re cut off mid-sentence as Eddie surges forward, his body almost colliding with yours as he pushes himself against you. The kiss takes you by complete surprise, and you don’t react for a moment, but you soon find yourself kissing him back. You can feel your heart thump against your chest as his lips continue to press against yours.

This is what you’ve craved for what seems like forever now. The feeling of his lips on yours, the taste of him. The cold rain doesn’t even register, all that registers to you is him. The feeling of his body pressed against you as his lips move against yours has you feeling a high you never have before.

Finally, after what feels like hours, Eddie pulls back slightly. The two of you are both a mess, breathing heavily, hair soaked, and clothes sticking to your bodies. But all Eddie is focused on is you.

He stares down at you, his eyes roaming your face, “You…you really want to go out with me?” he says incredulously, his voice low, barely able to be heard over the rain. You can’t help the wide smile that breaks out across your face.

“yes.”

A look of complete surprise and happiness crosses his face at your answer. Eddie’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face and for a moment the two of you are silent, staring at each other, taking everything in.

Until a shiver wracks throughout your body, cold from being out in the rain.

Eddie’s eyes dart down to your form. Concern flashes across his face as he looks down at your clothes, which are now drenched and sticking to you. “Jesus Christ…you’re soaked.” He says, his eyes roaming over you once more

“I could say the same for you.”

He chuckles, reaching out and grabbing one of your hands; rubbing it between his in an attempt to warm you up.

“Let’s get you inside. You’re gonna get sick out here,” He keeps a grip on your hand as he leads you into the house, shutting the front door behind the two of you.

“then…we can talk about where I finally get to take you for this date.”

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Show Me

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Smut, Cockwarming, Overstimulation, Oral, Throat Fucking, Handcuffs

part 2

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The music in the club is blaring so loud you can’t hear your own thoughts. My hips swayed to the music as I felt an arm snake around my waist. Turning around I see the man that I’ve been entertaining the whole night, Lewis.

“Finally, I was starting to think you bailed on me” I chuckled as I gratefully took the alcoholic beverage he brought me “Thank you Lewis” I smile as I take a sip of the drink

“And leave you here alone with these pervs?” Lewis chuckled before placing his once preoccupied hand on my hips “You wouldn’t catch me dead leaving you here alone” the one free hand I had reaching up to snake around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

The eye contact we held said all the other needed to know “I can see it in your eyes, you want a good time” Lewis said just loud enough above the music for me to hear but not anyone else, leaning closer to me, his lips almost touching mine “You wanna put your body on mine. Alright but don't change your mind, don’t you change it”

The gap between us is so dangerously small that I can smell the alcohol on his breath and it’s intoxicating me in the best way possible. I can see Lewis’ gaze flicker between my eyes and my lips “Your eyes saying please me but your lips care to ask”

I want to kiss him so bad. I don’t know if it’s the look in his eyes, the words coming out of his mouth, how plump his lips look or the alcohol in my system.

“No need to fight it when you know it feels right. You say you're a woman who knows what she likes” The hand he had resting on my hip moved up to the back of my neck pulling me closer to him but only to kiss the corner of my mouth. He then starts to leave some kisses on my jaw before whispering in my ear “Then show me”

———————————————————————

“C’mon baby, I know you can take it. Don’t give up on me just yet,” I couldn’t think, Lewis had just pulled my second orgasm out of me tonight and my thighs haven’t stopped shaking since the first one. “my baby, I haven’t even tasted you yet, I’ve just made you cum twice with my fingers.”

I didn’t think it was possible to shake this much from only having two orgasms from someone’s hands alone but Lewis always made it a mission to prove me wrong.

“You look so pretty right now, look s’good for me just sprawled out. I need a taste” a mixture of incoherent words and moans spills from my lips as I know that Lewis isn’t gonna stop until he pulls at least two more orgasms from me with just his tongue alone.

The way Lewis trails kisses down my neck to my core was heavenly, I didn’t have time to prepare myself as I watched him lower himself between my legs before I felt his mouth attack my clit. A gasp escapes my lips as jolt forward and my thighs instinctively close around his head.

Instead of prying my legs open, Lewis used both his arms and wrapped them around my legs that we’re currently trapping him to ensure he couldn’t stop, not that he wanted to, before absolutely going to town eating me out.

He drew long strides of his tongue all the way up and down my slit before sucking on my clit, I’m pretty sure a few times I felt his tongue enter me which caused my hands to find their place in his hair, pushing him further down causing him to let out a deep groan, which was all it took before my thighs that were already trapping him to squeeze as my third orgasm overtook my body.

Lewis lapped my juices before he loosens his grip on my legs, looking up at me with dark, lust filled eyes and a glistening chin as he crawled his way up to me placing a chaste kiss to my lips allowing me to taste myself on him. Without breaking the kiss, Lewis starts to take off his sweatpants and boxers.

"Lew, please I can't do no more right now" I mumble, breaking the kiss.

"Shh, its okay. I'll take care of you, j's need you to sit on my cock okay? Can you do that for me or do you really want to stop?" just when I thought I couldn't fall more in love with Lewis, he pulls this card.

I press my lips to his in a kiss of pure adoration “Mmhmm, I need your cock Lew, please”

“that’s my good girl, c’mere” his calloused hands finding their place on my hips as he pulls me onto his lap, giving his cock a few strokes before lining himself up with my entrance allowing me to sink down on him.

Lewis is fairly big so he’s patient with me as I take him inch by inch until he’s fully bottomed out and allowing me to adjust to his size. Right when I was comfortable enough to start bouncing and I lifted my hips one of Lewis’ hands that were still resting on my hips tightened and pulled me right back down

“Nuh uh baby, you’re just gonna sit here and we’re gonna talk” his hands now drawing imaginary circles on my hips “how’s your day been pretty?” a small smirk appears on his face. Bastard, he knew what he was doing and he was enjoying it.

A whimper escaped my lips as my core ached for friction. In a pathetic attempt of getting lewis to break and fuck me, I clenched down on his cock and I smile to myself as I hear a low guttural moan from him

“Please Lew, I need to move. I need to feel you moving inside me, I need th-this. please please” I’ve never begged for anything in my life the way I’m begging for Lewis to move his cock in me. Who could blame me? I can feel every ridge and vein of his cock, I started squeezing around him so hard that I swear I felt the blood continue flowing through his veins when I stopped clenching. I was so caught up in relishing the feeling of his cock buried deep inside me that I didn’t even notice Lewis was talking to me, not at least until I felt a firm hand on my jaw and another gently slap my cheek a few times.

“Oh has my baby gone dumb on me? I’m asking you a question but I bet all you’re thinking about is how my cock is buried so deep inside you that if I came right now, I’d guarantee putting a baby in you.” I couldn’t take it anymore, against my better judgment I started rocking my hips. Something about the way Lewis was talking to me like I’d had no brain cells did something to me and I was determined to get not only him to cum but me to come again for the fourth time tonight.

Lewis’ head fell back in pure bliss as the hands that were planted on my hips started helping me move, it didn’t last long as Lewis came back to his senses quickly halting my movements. “Now, I didn’t tell you that you could move did I?” Silence. “I asked you a question darling. Answer me or I cut this night short.” the words escaped my mouth, I wanted to respond. I really did, but I couldn’t form words and that upset Lewis.

“Oh well, I had a fun night planned for us but since you can’t follow simple instructions,” Lewis lifted me off his hips, letting out a small hiss at the sudden loss of contact “I guess my plans with you have gone to waste” all the words that escaped me a second ago now flooding back to me.

“No, please Lew. I’m sorry, I’ll be good. I’ll obey you, I really need your cock, I need you to make me cum again.” I could tell that my words were getting to him but not quite enough for him to forgive me.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve given you many chances now I think it’s just appropriate to make you watch as I pleasure myself and leave you high and dry” my thighs clench at the thought of Lewis making me watch as he touches himself and that did not go unnoticed by him “Oh but you’d like that would you? I wouldn’t have taken you as a dirty slut but I’m not complaining”

The threat of touching himself as I watched unable to do anything was no longer a threat as I watched Lewis get off his bed and walk over to the bedside table pulling out two pairs of black fluffy handcuffs making his way over to me as he opens the cuffs.

“sit up against the headboard.” he ordered, sending a gush of wetness between my thighs. I comply knowing I shouldn’t push his buttons more unless I want this night to really end.

As I say against the headboard I watch Lewis intensely as he grabs my one wrist and cuffs it to the bed before climbing on the bed and almost straddling me as he cuffs my other hand to the bed. His cock was just dangling in front of my face so also against my better judgement I give it a kitten lick before placing a kiss on it. Once the cuffs clicked Lewis grabbed my face

“Disobeying me as I’m punishing you? You really don’t want me to take care of you tonight. No no, I think you want me to punish you all night into the morning.” his voice low and seductive

I tug my wrist against the headboard trying to grab his face and pull him in for a kiss but to no avail. I watch as Lewis sits opposite of me as he starts stroking his cock smearing the precum from his head using it as lube. He sets a slow pace as he moves his wrists, he’s not touching himself for pleasure right now. No, he’s touching himself because he knows I want to but can’t because of this punishment.

I bit my lower lip as I watched Lewis’ excruciatingly slow pace, I don’t know why it’s bothering me seeing as it’s not me he’s pleasuring. But that might just be it, he’s so perfect that he shouldn’t have to be pleasured at such a slow pace, he deserves to be worshipped, to have someone that he can use whenever he wants.

Lewis seemed to have taken notice of my thoughts “It’s getting to you right? Watching me touch myself so slow, knowing you would do the opposite?” a nod was all I could do “I need your words if you want your punishment to end soon.”

“Yes, yes it’s killing me Lew. I want to touch you, suck you, I want your cum, I want it all. I want everything you’re willing to give me.” it’s pathetic really, why is he the only man to have this effect on me? I’m a woman for crying out loud, I should be independent and not wasting my time on a man but something about Lewis made me throw all sense of womanhood away.

If this man told me to quit my job and be a stay at home wife like how it was in the 1950s, I would gladly quit my job right now.

“That’s my good dirty girl” as Lewis praised me for using my words, he sped up his strokes. I could tell by the way his face contorted that he was close. “Baby, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?” the pace of his strokes told me he wouldn’t last long.

“in my mouth, I need to taste you”

That was all it took before lewis got on his knees and shoved his cock down my throat moving his cock in and out of my throat. As Lewis kept fucking my throat, he was close enough that I could barely touch him but I did anyway. His hips stuttered and with one final thrust he was shoving his cock so far down my throat as he came that my head was sliding to the side of the headboard but it have me better clearance to grip his hips pulling him deeper inside of my throat.

With shaky thighs Lewis pulled back and sat on my thighs as he watched me as I swallowed all of his cum like I said I would. The second Lewis sat down his semi limp cock gently grazed my clit a wave of euphoria came over me and I came. This time was different though, I squirted for like, the first time ever and it was all over Lewis.

“Oh baby, you’re in for a long night” Lewis said while he lapped up whatever he could from both of our stomachs before taking the handcuffs off “be prepared to not walk for a while”

—————

I REALLY WANNA CONTINUE BUT YA GIRL HAS A JOB AND I HAVE TO GET DRESSED AND LEAVE . LMK IF I SHOULD CONTINUE OR IF I SHOULD JS LEAVE IT.

taglist

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal

[pleaselmhau]

Random scenario I’ve been thinking about of single parent reader

Accidental-boyfriend-and-stepdad-Ghost who had fuck all to do in between deployments. He spent his time wasting away. half at the pub near his dingy flat and the other half in said dingy flat. His fingers curl around the cool glass containing his bourbon. He knew he probably looked like a intimidating, sitting on the absolute end of the bar up against the wall with his hood up, but hey, at least he wasn’t wearing his mask in a civilian pub. That surely would raise a few alarm bells, a jacked, 6’4 man in a mask is probably the line drawn where civilians might start to freak. Not many people really bother him here, that’s why he likes it. He always found people watching occasionally interesting, as long as he could sit back and stay uninvolved.

So he’s a little more than surprised when sweet, attractive you pops right up next to him all sugary smiles and batting lashes. It becomes clear quickly with how your hand brushes against his bicep and you keep giving them flirty looks that you were looking for a fling. A one time hookup. It’s been awhile since he’d fucked so even though you aren’t his usual type, he bites. Not his usual type not in that he doesn’t find you attractive, he does, it’s more he thinks you’re out of his league- or rather out of your element. You seem a little too friendly, chatty even. It’s nothing really in particular that you do, he can just tell you’re the type to get attached. Though you did approached first so maybe he’s wrong, he decides.

The hookup is rather run of the mill at first, sloppy make out session from the front door to the bedroom. Both of you bumping into various furniture and walls as you lead him through your small apartment. His foot brushes against some hard object on the floor but he pays it no mind, too wrapped up in how you’re kissing him like he’s the air you need to breathe. You’re so full of life, passion, it nearly flusters him. But he is nothing if not adaptable, so once close enough to the bedroom he can see where you two are heading he just leans down and scoops you right up with one arm around your thighs. Faster, more efficient. It takes a mere nudge of his shoulder and lean before you’re falling back on the bed and he’s following you. His mouth slots over yours again, hot and heavy. Your hands tug at his shirt and he obliges, letting you pull the fabric off. It’s dim in your bedroom, only the moonlight filtering in through the window but he can see your silhouette clearly when he pulls back your last layer of clothing, and fuck is it a pretty sight.

He didn’t mean to spend the night, he really didn’t. But when you were bouncing on his lap, pressing fresh kisses to his throat after two rounds already he knew it was gonna be a long night. He wakes to find you draped all over him, wrapped up in the sheets like you’re trying to be some renaissance painting. He squeezes his eyes shut for a few moments, blinking away the grogginess of just waking up. Never being one to just lounge around in bed he detangles your limbs from around him and slips out. Bending down he retrieves his clothes, tugging his pants and shirt. When he has all his things he risks a glance back, hoping you’re not awake, he’s never really been good at the whole morning after shit, always preferring to leave during the night. Though for some reason the way you were all over him, the way you clung and kissed at him like he was the only man in the world made him want to revel in it, in you, long enough until he simply was too tired to consider leaving last night. His eyes flicker over you for a moment as if he’s subconsciously trying to commit you to memory, maybe he’ll meet you again sometime at the pub, he wouldn’t mind a repeat, but he’s not staying. Or so he thinks because as soon as he steps out the bedroom he’s met with the sound of two small feet pitter pattering on the floor then big eyes staring up at him.

His brows furrow in confusion, he didn’t notice a kid last night, actually he’s sure there wasn’t any kids in the apartment last night. For a long few moments he just stares down at the kid, not sure what really to do. The little girl, probably no older than ten stares right back up at him. “Can you make pancakes?” She asks, head tilting a little in curiosity. “Uh.. sure.” As she leads him through the living room he realizes what he kicked last night was her toys scattered about the floor.

So now he’s in the kitchen with Lily, as he found out the little girls name was, sitting on the counter. He figured out her aunt watched her last night and brought her home this morning. shes stirring up the batter as he puts butter into a pan. “You’re a friend of mom’s/dad’s?” She asks, stirring maybe a little harder than need be. “Something like that,” he responds, dipping in a random measuring cup then pouring the batter onto the pan. He can hear her still stirring even after. “that means we’re friends now too right?” She asks. He glances over taking in her kiddish hopeful expression and finds himself nodding immediately. “Yeah, we’re friends now too.” He responds, trying to not sound so flat. Truthfully he hasn’t a clue what he’s doing or what he should do. He tries to put himself in your shoes, how weird it’d be to stumble out and see your one-night stand still here cooking breakfast with your daughter. Though at the same time it feels rude too to just dismiss her.

When the pancakes are done he watches her jump off the counter and scamper over to the lower cabinet, pulling out a tray. “Well bring mom/dad some too!” She announces, grabbing at the pancakes with her hands and plopping them on the plate. Once the tray is all made up, a few pancakes stacked and a glass of orange juice she picks it up again. “You helped make it so you have to come too,” then she’s waddling off back toward the same bedroom he woke up in, orange juice splashing out of the glass in her excitement. He wonders if he should just slip out now while Lily is distracted, though he finds himself following, opening the door for her then watching as she pushes the tray right on the bed next to you before jumping on it and pressing her hands into your shoulder to shake you awake. He stands in the doorway awkwardly, watching the scene with a hint of… well he doesn’t really know. Warmth? A breakfast in bed from Ghost and your daughter wasn’t really what you were expecting when you woke up, though you can’t help but to smile as you see the jagged pancakes and half filled orange juice, rest on the tray itself.

The three of you spend the rest of the morning watching movies until it’s late enough that the three of you end up going out for lunch. Then end up making dinner together. And Ghost realizing maybe being off duty wouldn’t be so bad if he had a family to come home too and seems the perfect one was placed right in his hands.

Sorry if this is word vomit it’s very late and I was just swooning over the idea of Ghost with single parent reader

[cl6teen]

come and see me ❀ ln4

in which everybody knows just how whipped your long distance boyfriend is for you

contains: social media!au, student!reader (21-22), whipped!lando who spoils you a bunch, a short little thing because i love writing for lando, this is purely self indulgent lmao; but to my requests dw im certainly getting to them

📍 rio de janeiro

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, bsfsinstagram and 79,477 others

yourinstagram clearly not much studying is being done!

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landonorris goddamn

landonorris first

bsfsinstagram this is getting out of hand

landonorris 😍😍

landonorris how are you so beautiful??

landonorris hey

yourinstagram hi i have a boyfriend 🥰

landonorris he’s a lucky guy

maxfewtrell please just come visit so that lando can shut up and stop whining about you

liked by yourinstagram

luv4lando lando always having post notifications on for yn is so boyfriend of him 😭😭

user hes literally head over heels for her

oscarpiastri please do your schoolwork

yourinstagram you’re one to talk 😬

liked by yourinstagram, f1bestwags, danielricciardo and 533,266 others

lando.jpg tfw when u miss ur girlfriend but she’s across the world

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danielricciardo my man my man my man lookin ass

landonorris my girl my girl my girl , and what about it?

yourinstagram i love you 🥰

yourinstagram call me call me call me

landonorris yes ma’am 😍

user lando seems like the type to mention his relationship at any moment and i’m here for it

oscarpiastri he does 😒

landonorris you act like it bothers you

oscarpiastri i just listen because i can’t tell you to shut up

user omg i’ve just gotten into watching f1 but who’s this?

user lando’s girlfriend! he’s head over heels whipped for her

bsfsinstagram please stop facetiming her while we’re trying to study ☹️

user get you a man like lando norris

yourinstagram he’s a one of a kind, but good luck trying!

user nothing was more sweet than watching lando’s post race interview when he said his celebratory plans were going home and facetiming y/n

user need this kind of love in my life asap 😩

my man 🏎️

are you back from the beach?

you

mhm, just made some dinner

wanna see the photos i took?

my man 🏎️

the answer’s the same every time babe

you

i’m screaming into my pillow and kicking my feet rn

my man 🏎️ loved an image

my man 🏎️ loved an image

my man 🏎️

holy shit yn

😩😩😩

is that the dress i sent you??

shit, it looks good, you look so good in it

im glad i bought it

you’re the prettiest woman i’ve ever seen

you

lando omg

stop it stop it

my man 🏎️

i cant praise my girlfriend?

i should buy you more things

you

please don’t 😭

this was more than enough i’m so in love with it

my man 🏎️

if i can’t see you i can at least spoil you

i was going to get you a van cleef stack, what colour did you want?

you

lando norris.

i don’t need a van cleef bracelet.

my man 🏎️

what about some heels?

you

you’ve already got me a bunch, my closet is begging for more space

how about you get me podium on your race in singapore?

i cant wait to watch tomorrow

my man 🏎️

well that’s already a guaranteed

i’ll just surprise you 🤍

you

okay love 🤍

liked by landonorris and 231,900 others

yourinstagram come and see me for once (lando)

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user awe the photo from his stream earlier 🥺

user HELP when he saw that y/n was watching he got so smiley and excited

bsfsinstagram not the partynextdoor lyric

yourinstagram the best of the best

landonorris im coming.

yourinstagram yeah sure 😓

user the period???

danielricciardo is this shade 🤔

yourinstagram most definitely not daniel, get off my page

bsfsinstagram danielricciardo you can get onto mine instead 😍

user realer than real

user does anyone else thinks she’s always too quick to show off her body, like she barely wears any clothing

landonorris shut up

bsfsinstagram shut up

oscarpiastri shut up

danielricciardo shut up

user omg if i was that user i would have no choice but to stop living bc how u get cussed out four times back to back

my man 🏎️

you shouldn’t worry about that comment angel

it’s been a few days, they took it down

you

i know, lots of people say it anyway

it shouldn’t bother me

my man 🏎️

it’s okay if it bothers you

but don’t change because of it

i like what you wear

i actually love it

you

🙄

of course you like it

you like everything about me

my man 🏎️

why wouldn’t it?

you’re so smart and kind

and fucking beautiful

i won the lottery

so don’t change yourself to fit a rando’s wants

who the hell even are they

you

i love you so much

i wish you were here right now

my man 🏎️

yeah, me too

but i got you that gift i was talking about

it should have arrived by now

you

oh i didn’t even notice

my man 🏎️

yeah they said they dropped it off at your door

you

okay i’ll go check, i’ll facetime you in a bit to try it on

liked by bsfsinstagram, mclaren, landonorris and 643,444 others

yourinstagram so he did in fact come and see me…

tagged landonorris

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user lando standing on business norris

liked by yourinstagram

landonorris i hope you liked the gift i sent

yourinstagram i love it so much

danielricciardo are you not the gift in question lando

oscarpiastri ik your grades are cussing you out rn

yourinstagram i’m actually still getting all A’s i’ll have you know

bsfsinstagram parents reunited in brazil!!

yourinstagram 💋💋

liked by yourinstagram, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 895,256 others

landonorris 🇧🇷 with this stinker

view all comments

user the differences in their posts are taking me outtt

yourinstagram why would you post that

landonorris why wouldn’t i post that?

user will you be back in time for qatar?

mclaren he better be 😅

danielricciardo this is so girl from ipanema core lando

landonorris shut up mate

oscarpiastri when lando finally sees his girlfriend again and is no longer there to complain 🙏🏻

landonorris you know you miss me

oscarpiastri say hi to yn for me

yourinstagram best boyfriend ever 💋

landonorris only for you 🤍

[arienotari]

Drowning

Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.

Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader

Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying

Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.

Word Count: 3330

I’ve never liked swimming.

People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 

Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 

It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 

“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 

I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 

“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 

Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 

Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 

“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 

I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 

“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.

“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 

His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 

“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 

He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 

“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 

After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 

“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 

“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 

“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.

And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 

“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 

“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 

“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 

I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 

“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.

“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 

“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 

I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 

“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 

“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 

“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 

I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 

One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 

“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 

I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 

“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 

I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 

“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 

“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  

He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 

“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 

His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 

“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 

My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.

“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 

We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 

“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 

I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 

“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 

“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 

We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck. 

[satoruhour]

Nanami, who bakes fresh bread at least once a week probably subconsciously kneads your ass when you cuddle, sometimes even in his sleep. You'll give each other massage often and he'll spend tad longer literally kneading your breasts and ass fghj

a/n: PAUUUUSEEEEE THIS IS SO CUTE !!!! made it a little n*sfw too

warnings: fem!reader, making out, dry humping, p -> v sex, slow morning sex, n*sfw under the cut

bread has always been part of nanami’s life. whether it’s the hindbærsnitter and direktørsnegl his grandparents made him when he was young or when he’s mellowed out into a buttery croissants and cream puffs and now, when all he’s got time for is simple cinnamon bread and sourdough. he’s not complaining — it’s not like he doesn’t have the money, he’s already making bread once a week.

not to say that it’s expensive, but it does take up a lot of time; in the time where it takes him to properly knead everything, he could’ve already made two trips to the bakery and buy his baguette sandwich.

but nanami likes organic when he can afford it, and so ever since he tries his best to make weekly bread on sundays. it’s a habit even after successfully asking you to be his partner with red cheeks, an annoying gojo holding up a boombox and a yuji shaking a banner in the background, and you’re saying yes whilst keeping in your laughter. later they both agreed it was because of them that you said yes, while nanami only asked the older to shut the fuck up.

that habit garners other habits, like how he purses his lips when he needs to get the exact measurements. he does it all the time now when he’s focusing on some sort of task, twisting his mouth here and there. the other relates to the gathering and pushing of dough, having kneaded so much these few years that it’s the only way now to work out the kinks in his body. and yours.

you realise it after date night at home, ignoring every single piece of dialogue in the movie to make out with your boyfriend. you’re sat in his lap, grinding slowly into his clothed bulge as his lips work wonders on yours. you’re sinking more and more into his embrace, leaving him breathless at your hips.

“sorry, i only ever invited you under the ruse of watching a movie,” you grinned, brushing the sweaty blonde locks from his forehead, “i was hoping this would happen.”

“i’ve got a scheming one on my hands, huh?” nanami’s smile is relaxed, letting his hands trail over your ass, but not before he asks and you’re putting them there yourself (“you don’t have to ask every time, kento.”). your ass is so plump and full, he just can’t help but pull and push at the flesh as your lips meet his again. you pull at his hair as the kiss deepens, feeling his hot breath every time you both come up for air. his hands move subconsciously, nudging you deeper into his arms via your ass, but you don’t say anything.

that next morning you’re awoken from the same thing, groggily stirring and blinking through the brightness of the sun, but something else pulls you from your state of unconsciousness — that is, nanami’s hand upon your bare chest, kneading at your breasts. you have to stifle a laugh because you can hear him rouse from sleep, too.

he continues on for a while, grinding his pelvis into yours and now you struggle to hold in moans. you feel dizzy from the bare morning wood pressed into your ass, trailing a hand to your clit to relieve some of the frustrations. you’re wet within seconds, paired with the hand on your chest and the feel of his shaft against your back—

“already in the mood?” nanami mumbles against your neck, pressing feather-like kisses there as he continues to buck his hips into your ass. without much effort, you’re lifting your legs and grabbing his half-hard cock.

“y . . yeah,” you moan softly. with your boyfriend’s help, he pushes past your cunt and in. the feeling overwhelms you as much as it does him, shown in the way his hand squeeze your tits, “f-feels good, kento . .”

where nanami likes to get ready quick in the morning, he likes to take his time when he has you around, hips moving slowly and stretching you out so early in the morning. he flips you over gently as his thrusts stay slow. too slow for your liking, because you’re already fucking yourself back onto him.

“patience, little lady,” he sighs, loving how your ass moves each time it meets his pelvis and the sheer coat of your juices gets him hypnotised. he grabs onto your ass, not sparing you one glance as his hips meets yours halfway and a drawn out moan leaves your lips.

“do you know— you do that . . by the way?” your eyes are scrunched up but you aren’t left to pleasure just yet. you turn your body just right so you could meet nanami’s eyes.

“do what?” nanami grunts out, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“that.” you nod towards his hands, soft pants leaving your mouth at the two contrasting sensations of the gentle morning and your lewd actions. they’re kneading your ass again and nanami doesn’t seem to know what you’re talking about until you voice it out plainly. “you like to knead my tits and ass quite a bit, don’t you?”

he hums, leaning forward over your body to line his chest up to your back, “yeah. yeah i guess i do.” and he laughs, grinding his cock into you and you gasp; he takes the opportunity to kiss you deeply, hands sneaking back onto your tits and he kneads more knowingly, now, smiling into the kiss.

“can’t blame me with how soft you are.”

“not you comparing me — shit . . — t-to bread,” both your laughter mingles even as his hips speed up and your eyes roll back into your head, wrapping an arm around his neck to feel all of him and he whispers possibly the cheesiest line you’ve known to date, making you both clench around him and giggle uncontrollably.

“it’s true . . i need you daily.”

[castiwls]

coach .ᐟ

Paring; patrick x reader

Synopsis; your sons tennis coach is the bain of your life. You hated Patrick zweig - that only made you that much more attractive to him.

Requested;

Notes; i feel like i cant write him properly still :( something feels off

Masterlist | coach!au masterlist

“Can Patrick come?” 

Your son’s voice cut through the quietness of the car, his head peeking up from the switch in his lap. He sent you his best puppy dog eyes as you met his gaze through the rearview mirror for a moment.

“You want Patrick to come?” You clarified as you raised an eyebrow. He nodded enthusiastically before looking back down to his game. “Mhm.” A long-suffering sigh left your lips as you focused back on the road.

Great.

Of all the people your son could grow an attachment to he’d just had to pick one of the most insufferable guys you’d ever met. It had taken you all of five minutes to decide that you were far from keen on the tennis coach your ex had found for your son. 

“I don’t know…” You sighed hoping your son would simply drop the topic. Why did he want his tennis coach to come to dinner anyway? That surely had to be breaking some sort of code, either that or it would just simply cause more drama amongst the other parents at the club.

They already believed your son got special treatment. One mum had once claimed that the two of you must be hooking up at least if the way he looked at you was anything to go by. Sure you’d noticed his less-than-subtle glances as he checked you out - his grin only growing at the scowl he’d get back - but you were not sleeping with him.

“Please.” He pleaded looking back up. “I’ll do the dishes and clean my room?”

The car came to a stop outside the courts. “You do that and you hoover for a week.” You turned in your chair shooting him a look as he nodded. “I mean it.”

“I will. I will.” He nodded so fast you thought he was going to make himself sick for a moment.

Shaking your head with a small smile. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Don’t let this go to your head.” You said taking another sip from your glass. Patrick held his hands up as he found your gaze. “Hey! I’ve been good.” He raised an eyebrow watching you for a moment. 

He’d all but jumped at the chance when you’d begrudgingly approached him explaining that your son (for reasons you had no idea) wanted him to come to dinner. 

Patrick knew damn well why your son had made that specific request. You were by far the hottest person he’d met at that damn club and your kid was pretty cute too. Maybe he was wrong to bride a 9-year-old with the promise of £20 and a new trick shot but hey! It had worked out for them both. 

“Loosen up a little.” He grinned as you placed your drink down. “You’ve been glaring at me for the last hour.”

“I’m trying to will you away.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Well, you’re still here so…”

Patrick hummed sitting back in his seat. He pointed a finger at you, waving it around slightly as you frowned. “I know you like me. I know that because otherwise, you would have said no.”

You scoffed. “Just because I’m giving my son something he wants doesn’t mean I liked you.”

Patrick smiled, the same one that made your stomach flip - not that you’d ever admit it. “Whatever you say, Sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that!”

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

You’d unleashed a monster. 

Patrick’s advances had only worsened since that damn dinner. His eyes seemed to linger on your chest for a moment too long as you handed him the cash before dragging your son away ignoring the way you could feel his eyes boring through you.

Other than that he’d been… okay.

Until right now.

“Why are you at my front door?”

“Suprise.” He smiled leaning against the doorway. You leveled him with an unimpressed look at he looked sheepish for all of a minute. “I was just passing by and decided to say hi.”

“Mhm.” You nodded letting out a sigh. “He’s at his dad's.”

“It’s not him I wanted to say hi to.”

Patrick shot a look down your path before peeking over your shoulder and into the house. “Nice house…very you.”

You frowned shifting slightly. “What do you want?”

Patrick huffed rolling his eyes. “God your no fun.” 

Part of him loved it. The challenge of cracking that cold exterior just enough to weasel his way in. He’d seen your softer side, the way you acted around your son was almost a polar opposite of the glare you seemed to always be levelling him with.

It was hot.

He was many things and determined was one of them. He would crack your walls if it was the last thing he did. 

“I know this is all an act. The whole I hate you thing.” He leaned slightly closer, his forum almost looming over you. “You’re playing hard to get. Other guys might have just called it a day ya know? Been on the end of your glare one too many times and decided to call it quits.” His hand slowly curled around your own.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m just as stubborn as you.”

You hummed, trying to ignore the heat swirling in your stomach because you would not fall to Patrick Zweig’s charms. You’d spent the last year doing everything in your power to keep him away yet he’d somehow weasled his way into your life.

“You don’t know anything about me.” 

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to your lips for a moment. 

“Oh yeah? I think we can change that.”

[lqveharrington]

We Become We | L.M.

summary: You and Lucifer were both linked by an unknown force, but Lucifer acted upon it differently, thinking it meant nothing.

pairing: Archangel!Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim!Reader

includes: fluff, angst, Sera and Micheal being kind of mean, heartbreak, letting your heart decided what to do and not your mind. (I think that’s it, let me know if I missed any !)

a/n: i listened to this song at least 100 times the other day, it’s really good. i think it made me cry already based on how many tiktoks i’ve seen of it.

Since the Father in Heaven created you, you have always been more curious about the different angels he created. You were the second Seraphim created after Sera, so you witnessed the birth of many angels, except for the Archangels. You were introduced to one another as royalty, treating one another with such status.

However, you always caught the eyes of a certain Archangel. He was the second oldest of God’s children, much like how you were the second Seraphim. When you were introduced to one another, you instantly clicked. You always made sure to find him once a day, conversing on several topics about Earth and the Heavens.

“Luce, where’s the— Lucifer!” You grimace at the Archangel, watching him give you a teasing grin. “You’re not supposed to touch those until later tonight.”

“It’s not my fault you decided to break into the palace’s kitchens for a snack!” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. You scrunch your nose at the action. “So formal all the time, beautiful.”

You roll your eyes as a smile etches its way to your lips, grabbing the strawberries from the fridge. “Just help me, you idiot.”

“Rude.” He bit into a strawberry, humming at the taste. “I was stating a fact.”

Nudging his shoulder, your wings ruffle at the words. “We have to go, Luce.”

“You really just came in here to get strawberries—?”

You both froze when you heard Gabriel and Sera’s voices coming through the other end of the kitchens, glancing at one another. Without another thought, you both run toward the back door, entering the palace gardens. You flinched when you heard Sera’s booming voice from the garden.

Lucifer pulled you by the waist, and softly pushed your back on a willow tree, covering your mouth when the wind speeds increased from his brother and your sister’s wings. Your eyes widened at the action, scanning his face as he looked behind you. You suddenly felt warm. From his hand holding your waist to the close proximity, you swear you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Sorry, they were looking for the culprit.” He chuckled as he removed his hand from your mouth, his golden eyes meeting your eyes. “Are you alright?”

You nod, face still warm from his hand still around your waist. “You still have frosting on your cheek, Luce…”

“Oh?” He swiped with his tongue, making you giggle. “Did I get it?”

“No.” You lift your hand, gently wiping the frosting off. “There.”

Lucifer smiled at you, “Thank you, beautiful.”

Seconds passed as you whispered back a response, letting the silence encapsulate the both of you. Your eyes searched his gaze while he cupped your cheek, rubbing softly.

“Lucifer—“

“SAMAEL!” Micheal yelled for his twin, making the both of you separate.

Your cheeks flare at the situation, watching him press a kiss to your cheek as he walks backward.

“I have to go, beautiful. I’ll see you later.” He winks, pushing off the ground with his six wings.

You lean against the tree, hand clutched by your heart. He had you hooked with a single action, but at what cost?

I could never choose to love another…

Months had passed and the Father created new souls on Earth. He created human souls, which fueled both you and Lucifer’s curiosity. You both visited them once in a while, but unbeknownst to you, Lucifer would visit without you, having built a blooming relationship with the human soul Lilith.

“Micheal!” You caught up with your creator’s eldest child, shifting your weight on your feet when he gave you an annoyed look. “Sorry, but uh… Do you know where Luc—Samael is? He promised we would have a picnic in the palace gardens today.”

“He went down to Earth to speak with Lilith again.” The Archangel waved you off. “If you wish to speak to him—“

“I’ll just go down to Earth.” You purse your lips, wings fluffing at his tone.

Lucifer said he was going to meet up with you by the gardens earlier that morning, he promised you. Did he just forget? Your heart ached at the thought as you soared down from the Heavens toward the Garden of Eden. You always loved visiting Earth’s garden, smiling when you saw flourishing greenery.

You slowly landed by the waterfall you added with Lucifer, his laughter ringing through the air. The wildlife followed you as you made your way over to the sound, your smile brightening when you saw Lucifer’s figure.

“Lucifer!” You shout for him, but the water from the waterfall drowns out your calls. You swiftly moved past all the growing plants before you froze, your heart beating harder with each passing second you watched.

Lilith and Lucifer were in a relationship?

Your heart broke as they parted from the kiss, Lilith tilting her head when she saw you. The animals surrounding you rubbed their heads against your legs in hopes of bringing your attention away from the couple.

Suddenly, Lucifer whipped around, eyes widening at being caught. Especially by you. “Fuck, beautiful—“

“I have to go.” You murmur, wings pushing you away from them.

Tears cascaded down your face as you made it back to Heaven, letting yourself break down when reaching your room’s balcony. The Archangels and Sera heard your curses out to the angel who took your heart and crushed it, frowning at the thought of what you saw.

They soon figured out the cause of your heartbreak, meaning the Angelic Council needed to make a crucial decision about the souls. With you swaying the final decision.

Lucifer watched you from where he stood with Lilith, knowing you would never look his way ever again.

“The Angelic Council voted unanimously,” Sera spoke with a delicate voice, hidden poison underneath. “You are both sentenced to Hell, becoming fallen to those in Heaven.”

You refused to look up from the papers in front of you, listening intently to your sister’s words. The whispers in the back of your head get louder as you hear Lucifer protest…

“ENOUGH.” Sera boomed her voice in the room, making you flinch. “It will be effective immediately.”

Lucifer looks back toward you, finally meeting your eyes. And for the first time, he saw guilt and anger emitting from you. He knew you loved him, but thought it didn’t mean anything until now.

Maybe one day I can learn to love you, too…

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[hydrobunny]

i remember it all too well

tags: angst, post breakup, flashbacks, journalist reader, angst angst angst, it's all too well come on now

a/n: happy belated birthday sae itoshi

your world pauses the day sae itoshi is spotted with a new girlfriend.

the photos are blurry, paparazzi shots taken from at least one building over. it doesn't matter. you would know the curve of his arm around a waist in a thousand different lives.

you have to admit she fits him. even as your hands shake, you can't deny that they look happy- something the two of you weren’t so good at.

it doesn’t stop you from harboring too-many amounts of memories all the same.

you met him before he had joined the world of the superstars, but after he had already been something greater. (you think that if you had met him before everything, you two would’ve fared better.)

by the time you two had locked eyes, he was already changed. something inside of him had shifted, turning away from everyday life and facing immortal legacies instead. you had falsely believed you held a place in it.

you should’ve known better, right from the very first words he spoke to you.

“you’re not supposed to be here.”

you pause, looking up from your phone to face the voice.

cold eyes glare down at you, beautiful in color. the boy - because he can only be around your age, barely leaving the teenage years at most - they belong to is just as annoyingly beautiful. you think you should recognize him.

“excuse me?” you ask, offense rising. “i know where i’m supposed to be.”

his eyes only narrow. “is this another shitty tactic? i said i was done with interviews.”

“good for you, dude.” you roll your eyes, pushing past his shoulder. “why anyone would ever want to interview you, i have no idea.”

as you leave, you can feel his gaze on your back.

you blink, shaking yourself out of whatever that was. it's not good to linger on the past. (your therapist had told you that.)

still, she has also told you that one couldn't grow without recognizing what exactly they had to grow from.

perhaps that's why you find yourself rummaging in your bedside drawer for a deeply buried box, the ends of your fingers numb.

when you open it, you’re met with nothing but a handful of flimsy keepsakes. from fraying bracelets to notes to polaroids. all of them are snapshots of a relationship no longer yours, artifacts of what used to be your heart.

in each flashback, sae itoshi lingers.

the next time you met him, you had learned that he was supposedly a household name. (never in your household, though.)

the great hope of japan’s future -despite what he himself had to say about the country.

you’re a little embarrassed by what happened. still, you refuse to take all the blame.

“sae itoshi,” you blurt out. “you’re here.”

those stunning eyes flicker to you, and he actually pauses. recognition actually stops him.

“you’re the one who was lost,” he says, mildly. “not pretending to not know me this time?

you flush. “in my defense, i didn’t know you. i don't do the sports section.”

he raises an eyebrow. “then why am i still seeing you?”

before you can respond, your boss comes rushing through the hallway, sweat beading on his brow.

“itoshi-san!” he blusters, barely sparing you a glance. “we’re so glad you’re here! is the intern bothering you? your interview is in the next room over, so if you just want to follow me- we're so grateful you decided to give us your exclusive.”

something twitches on sae’s face. “intern?”

offense rears its head in your chest. “what-”

“i’ve changed my mind,” sae interrupts mildly. he turns to you, taking hold of one of the many pens lying on your desk.

ask you and your boss watch in bewilderment, he leans down and scrawls something on your notepad.

“she’ll get the exclusive,” he says, straightening back up. “when she isn't an intern anymore.”

and he turns and walks out of the building, leaving nothing but a string of numbers on a sticky note.

the same sticky note rips between your fingers. once you start, you can't stop yourself, until all you're left with is a pile of bright yellow scraps.

you move onto the next item. a wiry black wristband; one half of a forever missing set.

you had been dating sae itoshi for exactly one month. all of your friends still thought it was as some long-standing elaborate joke. at certain times, you couldn't believe it yourself either.

despite it all, despite every little memory you can pore over for hours at a time, you can’t pinpoint the exact moment when things changed.

it’s a strange truth, one you’ve struggled to come to terms with- but it's a truth. if someone were to ask you when your relationship with sae soured, you wouldn't be able to say.

perhaps it wasn't a singular moment. maybe it was a long time in the making, like how a banana slowly browns- until one day, it’s rotted.

either way, one form of heartbreak or another, the truth was this:

you and sae itoshi had ended.