#these next few pages are going to be a little intense
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allastoredeer · 8 days ago
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How far along are you? Because I'm really looking forward to your AU!!
For the Undercover Angel AU? Still in the sketching stages, but it's coming along ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
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eveninggstar · 3 months ago
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victory lap ⊹ ࣪ ˖
lando norris x rival!Mercedes!reader
26.08.24
୨ৎLando proposes a bet that if he gets pole and wins from pole in Zandvoort then he gets to not use a condom next time you and him have sex.
୨ৎ back one page ୨ৎ back two pages
smut
unprotected p in v sex, kinda bratty reader, lando smacks readers ass twice, sex on the floor, lando is controlling but in a good way, probs more
ngl this is prob the best smut ive ever written so far lol kinda like this one bc i love lando two wins!!! Also this is pretty long i dont know how many words
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The tension between you and Lando had been building up for years. The two of you were rivals on the track, always pushing each other to the limit, but beneath that fierce competition lay something neither of you could ignore—an undeniable sexual tension that everyone seemed to notice. The paddock was rife with rumours, and even your respective teams had exchanged knowing glances whenever the two of you were around each other.
It all came to a head one balmy summer evening at Zandvoort. The Dutch Grand Prix was notorious for its challenging circuit and passionate fans, and both of you were ready to put on a show.
You were lounging in your driver room, going over your strategy for the weekend when Lando sauntered in, a cocky grin plastered on his face. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his McLaren race suit unzipped just enough to give a glimpse of his undershirt. He was clearly up to something.
“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice dripping with that signature mix of charm and mischief. “How confident are you feeling about this weekend?”
You looked up from your notes, meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Confident enough to wipe that smug look off your face, Norris. Why do you ask?”
Lando chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “Well, I was thinking... How about we make things a little more interesting this weekend?”
Your curiosity was piqued. “Oh? And what exactly did you have in mind?”
He leaned in close, his arms draped around your shoulder and his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Let’s make a bet. If I get pole position and win from pole, then the next time we have sex i don't wear a condom." He stayed silent for a few seconds, then leaning his face closer to your ear so his nose flattened, "Let me finish inside of you, baby."
A shiver ran down your spine at his bold proposition. You knew Lando liked to push boundaries, but this was a whole new level. Still, you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, especially not from him.
“And what do I get if you don’t?” you asked, your voice steady despite the way your heart was pounding in your chest.
“If I don’t win from pole, you get to call the shots next time,” Lando replied, his eyes darkening with the unspoken promises laced in his words.
You leaned back in your chair, pretending to consider it, even though you already knew your answer. “Alright, Norris. You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Saturday came around, and the atmosphere at Zandvoort was electric. The roar of the crowd, the smell of burning rubber, and the thrill of competition all combined to create an intoxicating environment. Qualifying was intense, with both you and Lando pushing your cars to the absolute limit.
“Lando Norris takes pole position!” the announcer’s voice boomed across the circuit.
You clenched your fists, a mix of frustration and anticipation bubbling within you. Lando had done it—step one of the bet was complete. But there was still the race to come, and you were determined to give him a run for his money.
Race day dawned bright and clear, the sun shining down on the packed grandstands. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you strapped into your Mercedes, your focus narrowing down to the task at hand. The lights went out, and the race began with a flurry of motion.
Lando held his position at the front, but you were right on his tail, refusing to give him an inch. Lap after lap, you pressed him, looking for any opportunity to overtake, but he defended fiercely, his car perfectly placed at every turn. The tension between you both was palpable, each of you pushing the other to the brink.
As the race neared its conclusion, you realized that Lando was going to pull it off. He had driven impeccably, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t find a way past him. At this point you were nowhere near him. He had a 20 second lead and had lapped over half the grid.
Your heart sank as the reality of the situation set in. Lando had won the bet. As you pulled into the pit lane, you saw him celebrating with his team, his face lit up with triumph. But when he caught your eye, his smile turned into something more—something darker, filled with desire.
Later that evening, after all the interviews and celebrations, you found yourself in Lando’s motorhome. The air between you crackled with anticipation as he closed the door behind him, shutting out the world.
“You know,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed winning a race this much.”
You swallowed hard, your body already responding to the heat in his gaze. “You got lucky, Norris.”
He smirked, stepping closer until you were backed up against the wall. “I think we both know it wasn’t just luck, Y/N. Now, are you ready to pay up?”
Your breath hitched as he pressed his body against yours, his hands sliding up your sides. You could feel his heart pounding in time with your own, the intensity between you both reaching a fever pitch.
“You won fair and square,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.
Lando’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It was fierce, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been simmering between you for so long. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.
Lando didn't waste anytime before he urged you backwards towards the sofa. Your mouths slotted together and his hands groped and explored your body, going from your chest to your thighs. His hands manoeuvred the remains of your race suit to the floor, only leaving you in your fireproofs. With the reduced barrier, he could easily press against you causing you to let out many gasps and a few tugs to his hair.
Pulling away slightly, you mumbled into his mouth, “Lan, hurry up.”
He paused, eyes scattering over your features. His face was no longer the happy winner everyone outside saw. He was now drunk with a lust filled haze. He lifted himself up off of you slightly, bringing a hand to your face and caressing it with the utmost care. His breath felt warm against your face, causing your eyes to flutter shut. The calmness you were experiencing was cut short by the strong grip Lando had on your face, squeezing your cheeks and puckering your lips.
"You're the one needing to be faster." He practically growled, looking deep into your eyes. "Remind me who came first." He paused, awaiting your answer. "Who won the bet?" His voice sent shivers down your spine.
"You," you mumbled, then began to smile as his hand drifted to your neck. He returned the smile and slowly moved his face to the underside on your jaw. He kissed it sweetly, then tightened his grip.
"Louder, baby." He commanded, his words dark but mixed with the feather light kisses sent your head into another dimension.
"You!" You spoke up, earning a nip to your neck. He then came back to your face to then deepen the kiss you had earlier.
He moved your lower body so he could fit more comfortably between your legs. Your hands desperately gripped at his damp hair, needing to hold anything to ground yourself.
You felt the hand around your neck slowly trail down the length of your body before settling at your groin. Your legs attempted to close shut, although his waist was preventing you from doing that. He began to work at your clothed clit, his thumb easily circling over the smooth fabric.
"Uh-" your voice cut off as he pressed on the dampening fabric harder.
"There you go, you're speeding up. Getting wet so quickly," He spoke condescendingly as he nuzzled his nose in your cheek. "Why cant you be like this on track?" He began to mouth at your neck, causing you to let out a breathy moan. As much as you hated Lando's cockiness, god was it hot.
“Shush.” You moaned, an audible show of your composure.
You could barely speak, Lando's thumb never faltering on your soaking clit. His body was overwhelming you, and you started to squirm. However, that same thumb stopped giving pleasure. Before you could protest, he was hastily ripping your fireproofs off. This left you bare and flushed below him. Your chest heaving up and down as his eyes scanned over our body.
He leaned up to nip at your ear, surely leaving a mark this time, as you expelled a breath of pleasure as his fingers worked their way into your slit.
Your words were lost on you, wanting to ask when he was going to get to the real reason of your bet. But in all honestly, you didn't care if he would carry on pleasuring you. However, you did want his fingers to enter you, to leave you wanting more of a stretch for days after.
His fingers left your aching cunt, leaving it to pulsate rhythmically. You reached out to hold his hand, an iron bruising grip you're sure of it. His race suit clad crotch bumped against your bare one, giving a shock of unexpected pleasure.
"Lan!" you practically yelled, your squeal bouncing off of the surrounding walls.
He shushed you, then ordered you to not touch yourself. He slowly slinked up off of the sofa, eyes solely focused of your slightly twitching body. The rest of his race suit joined yours on the floor, in addition to his fireproofs.
His cock sprung free, the tip beat red and dripping at the sight of you. Lando stood proud for what felt like forever. His left thumb was stroking his lip as he shook his head in the opposite direction. That's when he uttered-
"Get on the floor."
You submissive sex haze briefly broke, thinking you heard him wrong.
"The floor?" You pushed your body up, looking at him like he just asked you to get on the floor like an animal. Oh wait-
"I won the bet, baby." He smirked, eyes still raking over your nude body. "Floor, there's not enough space on the sofa for us."
With a sigh and a reluctant nod, you melted your way off of the sofa. You knew the position he wanted you in, he rarely fucked you when not in it. You laid on the floor for a few seconds, collecting yourself. Lando saw you laying there, not having you be a pillow princess he ordered you to-
"Flip around, ass up. I know!" You rolled your eyes, then did it. What you didn't expect was a harsh smack to your ass. You let out a mixture of a moan and a sound on pain.
"Enough of the bratty attitude," He smacked your ass lighter this time then gripping the plump, reddening flesh.
Finally, you thought, the head of his cock began to notch at your entrance. His fingers had intertwined with the nodded strands of your hair and he pulled up as his dick pushed into your cunt in a swift motion.
You both let out a groan of pleasure. Lando held himself there, letting you and himself adjust to the jaw dropping pleasure. This was the first time the pair of you were having sex without a condom, and god did it already feel a million times better. The pair of you had to focus to not cum straight away.
No words were needed between the four walls of you sex filled haven, as Lando thrusted into you. His palms splayed on your hips controlled your movements as his relentlessly bullied his cock further and further into you. You hands struggled to hold onto something, eventually finding solace in Lando's fireproofs.
His name was chanted like a prayer from you, in return you got delicious sounding moans and groans from behind you. You were sure his face didn't look all that different to yours in the moment. Pleasure filled, and only focused on the other.
His repetitive ruts and the bruising grip on your hips rendered you speechless. You wanted to say keep going, feels so good. But that was the problem, since the pleasure was that unbelievable you couldn't say. The loud sounds of sex echoed as your skin slapped in a fast tempo, each smack more pleasureful than the last.
Lando leaned closer to you, chest flat of you back. At every thrust you could feel the tense of his abs and the perspiration drip onto your equally sweaty skin. He began to mouth at your neck, settling for small thrusts whilst he was buried at the hilt. One on his hands slithered away from your hips and found solace on your breast.
His hot breath spread across your neck and down your spine as you shivered. His moans had turned to grunts and pants.
"Like it when you can feel me this good?" He grinned into your hair, leaving small kisses in his wake. "Like it when your this full?"
You wanted to nod, only giving a weak, stuttered head movement. The remaining hand on your hip drifted to your swollen clit. He helped ease you to completion.
"Aren't you glad I got pole." He teased you. "That I won. You wouldn't feel this good if I didn't."
You whimpered at his words, too turned on to be annoyed that he won and you didn't. But yeah, you were happy he won. He doesn't have to know that though.
You wanted to tease him, give him payback to what you were feeling, what you always felt with him, however none of that would be happening. He knew you like he knew the tracks the pair of you frequented, and knew that you were actual putty in his hands this very moment.
He picked up his pace, resulting you to let out loud moans and sexual noises of the like. The speed of his thrusts felt as if his dick was going to come out, luckily it didn't and you got the full pleasure.
His fingers at your clit sped up, he sensed how close you were solely on how your body tensed up.
"Come on, you can cum for me. I know you can-"
His hand came up as fast as his reflexes allowed, as you came. He slowly reduced the pleasure he was giving to your clit and eventually reached his own high. Your neck vibrated at the animalistic groan he let out into it.
Needless to say, the pair of you would be having more bets like this.
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Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩
taglist: (comment if you wanna be added)
𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar
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actuallysaiyan · 8 months ago
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Sleepless Night(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)
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warnings: smut, unprotected sex, somnophilia, creampie finish, slight dub-con if you squint but there is consent, sex
word count: 1.2k
pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader
summary: Kento can't sleep and his cock is so hard...so he just decides to take matters into his own hands and fucks you through the night
a/n: This is inspired by the very lovely artwork that @kentosmoon has created that I cannot post here, but I took one look at it and was so inspired! Please, go check them out and go check out their twitter page too ;) You'll find the artwork in question.
taglist: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @seireiteihellbutterfly
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It’s late and Kento can’t sleep. He can’t sleep despite the fact that he knows he’ll have to wake up early. It’s been a long time since he was plagued with such an intense bout of insomnia. He should be sleeping. You’re right here next to him. Dressed in one of his old t-shirts and snoring lightly, this should comfort him more than anything.He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.
His amber eyes seek his phone in the darkness. His long arm reaches over towards the bedside table. He sighs when the screen reads 3:05 am. It’s too late to even think about getting a good night’s sleep. You both had retired to the bedroom around 10 pm, and yet he tossed and turned for so long. He sets the phone down and then snuggles closer to you, hoping your warmth will bring him some relief.
Then another annoyance washes over him. Just smelling you and being this close to you causes his cock to twitch a few times. He closes his eyes, choosing to ignore the deep desire inside of him instead. Eventually, he feels himself dozing off. That is…until you lean back into him, pressing that plump ass of yours against his half-hard cock.
“Shit…” Kento hisses. 
He knows it’s not your fault. You’re sleeping, after all. But this has just woken him up even more. It’s late and he’s supposed to be at work around 7 tomorrow. There’s just no way he’ll make it in. He thinks to himself that he’d rather deal with this issue and pleasure you both and call in sick. Kento begins to grind against your ass, his arm wrapping around you again to pull you in even closer to him.
“Hey…” he whispers softly in your ear.
You don’t wake up. He continues grinding against you, his cock growing hard as he continues. There’s a wet spot forming on the front of his silky pajamas from all the precum he’s spilling out. Kento grunts again when you move against him. Then he hears you moaning.
“Hey baby,” he whispers once more.
“Mmm…Ken?” you ask, your voice full of sleep.
He grunts once more as you move closer to him, your hips wiggling just a bit to get into a more comfortable position. You must be too deep in your sleepy state to even notice just how his hard cock is pressing up against your ass. He grinds against you a few more times, then he leans in to nip at your earlobe.
“Can I please…please…fuck you while you sleep? Please?”
Your eyes shoot open, but soon you’re hit with another bout of sleepiness. You want to be more awake, but you’re struggling. Just the thought of him fucking you while you sleep causes a heat to spread deep in your loins. 
You feel his hand coming down between your thighs, and he pushes them open just a bit. His long fingers part your thighs, making you mewl so sleepily. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking on your pulse points. 
“Can I? Please, honey…don’t make me beg. I just can’t sleep and I…”
You look over your shoulder at him, “Yes, you can. Fuck me.”
He sighs contentedly and lifts your leg a little bit to give him even more room. You close your eyes once more, and you feel him shuffling behind you. Then you gasp softly when the head of his cock prods your entrance. Slowly, he slips into you. The stretch is immediate and your little cunt flutters to try and adjust around his thick size.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against your neck. “Taking me so well, sweetheart.”
He begins rocking his hips so sensually and so slowly. The head of his cock kisses your cervix every time he buries himself so deeply into you. Your eyes open for a moment, only catching the blurry vision of your phone showing you the time. It’s late, but you know your husband never asks you for this sort of request unless he needs it to sleep.
Kento continues to pump into you, his cock feeling so sensitive with every single thrust. It feels heavenly to be buried so deep in your cunt. You grip him in the best way possible, and you’re always so wet and so warm just for him. He could stay buried in your heat for the rest of eternity if it was up to him.
He continues to fuck you, making sure you’re comfortable within every position change. He manhandles you with great care and makes sure you’re so comfortable. Soon, he feels his balls drawing up and he’s grunting quietly as the pleasure builds faster and faster.
“Fuck!” He cries out, and your eyes open just a bit. You become aware of the “pap, pap, pap” sound of your skin slapping together.
Within seconds, Kento is emptying himself into you, grunting and growling. You can hear the words he says, but only just vaguely as you’re still so sleepy. Warmth fills your cunt as Kento empties his balls deep inside of you.
“That’s such a good girl,” he groans softly. 
You whine softly, your eyes feeling so heavy. Soon, you’re drifting off to sleep again. Kento maneuvers you both so that you’re lying on your back. He spreads your thighs so carefully, getting an eyeful of the cum spilling out from your puffy folds. He’s tempted to lean in and clean it up with his tongue, but he won’t do that just yet.
Kento slides into you until his balls are plush against your ass. As he does this, he gets a look at your phone and notices he’s been fucking you for almost fourty minutes now. It feels much too good to stop. He wants to fuck you all morning now, well into the sunrise and passed that.
“Just—hnng, five more minutes.” He lies to you, but he knows you need to have some sort of idea how long this is going to take,
You nod your head sleepily, falling back into that half-asleep state you’ve been in this entire time. Something about doing something so taboo and naughty really turns him on. Kento leans in to kiss your lips, making you moan out just for him. Then he begins rutting against you, pushing in so deep.
Minutes pass as he continues to fuck himself so deeply into you. Every so often he tries to edge himself to prolong this, but it becomes even harder with every intense orgasm he feels. He gets you off a few times as well, rubbing your swollen clit that’s just begging to be stimulated.
It’s nearly 6am the next time he fills you up, and he’s staying so deep inside of you. He grunts that he’s cumming in your ear, and you blink awake. It’s so sticky between your legs and the sheets beneath you feel wet and full of cum and juices. You look into his beautiful eyes, all full of love, lust and a touch of exhaustion.
“No sense of stopping now,” you whisper as you two share a kiss. “Let’s keep going…”
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gold-dustwomxn · 11 months ago
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brat tamer!ellie —> safety net
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cw: smut mdni !!! degradation, spanking, binding, dacryphilia, spit play
ellie is a sweet baby angel at the end
oral + fingering (e receiving) strap (r receiving)
a/n: ellie and reader have a safe word and this is all completely consensual
“babe, have you seen my work folder? I can’t fucking find it anywhere and I’m gonna be late.” ellie is pacing frantically around your shared apartment, tugging at her hair in frustration.
honestly, you’ve been a little pissed at her. she hasn’t fucked you in five whole days because she’s been too busy and too tired from work. “nope, haven’t seen it.”
she stops in her tracks and looks at you dumbfounded, “well can you help me look for it?”
you groan and roll your eyes, noisily stomping around the apartment. you look between the couch and the wall, “found it!”
she runs into the room and takes it from you, “thanks, baby.” and leans in to kiss you.
ellie knowing your body language like the back of her hand, realizes that you barely kissed back and knows that something’s up. “what’s wrong?”
you avoid eye contact and shrug, “nothing.”
she places her middle and ring finger under your chin to direct your face back to her. “look at me, what is it?”
“it’s nothing! you’re gonna be late.”
her eyebrows raise, “if nothing’s wrong, then why the hell are you yelling at me?”
you can tell that her patience is running thin by the way she’s tapping her foot with her arms crossed against her chest. “ellie. just go to work.”
she lets out a heavy sigh, “fine. I love you, I’ll see you later.” you and ellie have a rule that you always say I love you before leaving the apartment, argument or not.
“love you too.” she looks at you for a moment and then turns on her heel to leave.
ellie returns home from work 2 hours late. let’s just say you’re more pissed than you were this morning. she lets out a yawn and goes to walk into your shared bedroom and observes you, laying in bed, reading a book. usually when she comes home, you greet her with a hug and a kiss, and now you’re acting as if she’s a ghost.
she’s too tired to dance around whatever passive aggressiveness you’re throwing at her. “wanna tell me what the problem is yet?”
“you’re home late.” you turn to the next page in your book, not even looking at her as she speaks.
she sighs and sits down next to you and gently takes the book from you, dog-earing the page and places it onto the nightstand. “I’m sorry baby, I have a huge deadline to meet.”
you finally look up at her; her tie loose around her collar with the first few buttons undone on her shirt, and belt unbuckled. you bite your lip as your eyes roam her body.
ellie, ever the observer she is, doesn’t miss how you’re basically drooling over her right now. “is that what your problem is?”
you look into her eyes, “huh?”
“huh? oh now you wanna look at me? don’t play dumb.”
you swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together. she places a hard grip on your thigh, spreading your legs apart, making you whimper. you can see the expression in her face harden, eyes darkening, slipping into that delicious role that you desperately need.
she chuckles and runs a hand through her hair. “you are fucking unbelievable. take your clothes off. now.”
ellie has you completely naked, perched over her lap with your hands bound together with her belt, having been spanked multiple times already.
“you know you really fucking pissed me off with your bratty attitude today.”
“I’m sorry.” you whimper. “oh, now you’re sorry? now you wanna be a good girl?” she grips onto both of your asscheeks hard, squeezing the fat between her fingers before her hand lifts and then whips down with a loud slap.
you let out something between a yelp and a moan and she laughs. you can feel the tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
she leans down to look at your face, “gonna cry for me?” you can hear her breath getting heavy, eyes low as she observes your glassy eyes. she keeps her intense gaze on your face and your body tenses up in preparation, feeling the wind before her hand connects with your ass again.
tears spill from your eyes and she groans, “so pretty.” she leans back and rubs her hands softly over the marks before spreading you apart, eyes taking in your sopping cunt.
she chuckles, “you’re fucking soaked. such a pathetic slut for me.” you whine and try to squeeze your legs together but she grabs onto your thigh before you’re able to.
“isn’t that right?” you nod and she lightly slaps your cunt. your eyes roll back at the pleasurable sting, feeling more arousal leaking out of you. “words. use them.” “yes,” you whine.
“say it. say you’re a pathetic little slut for me.”
you take a moment to catch your breath and she slaps your cunt again. “I’m a p-pathetic little slut for you,” you cry out.
she hums and leans down to blow air on your cunt for relief from the sting, how kind of her. she sees your hole clench and she spits on it before teasingly sliding her tongue between your wet folds. you whimper and squirm in her lap.
“you think you deserve to get fucked?” she lightly brushes her thumb up and down your clit.
“yes, yes please.”
“please what?”
“please fuck me.” you breathe out.
she scoffs and chuckles. “too fucking bad, you’re gonna have to wait.”
suddenly, she’s hoisting your body up from her lap and pushing you to your knees. the abrupt movement has your wrists stinging from the belt tightly wrapped around them. she notices your wince and undoes the belt, kissing each wrist.
she pulls down her boxers and tosses them to the side and your eyes take in how wet she is. your thighs squeeze together in anticipation. “now, be a good girl for me and let me use that mouth.”
she grips your hair into a makeshift pony-tail and shoves your face into her cunt, immediately grinding against you. you moan into her and she grunts.
“acting like such a f-fucking brat because you wanna be treated like a whore.” she huffs out.
you nod against her, and suck hard on her clit making her hips stutter.
“can’t even c-come home from work without getting a fucking attitude from you.”
you brush your hand up her thigh before easing a finger into her. her pace falters for a moment, and her eyes roll back, letting out a moan. “oh fuck, yeah.. good girl. suck my fucking clit.” you moan into her from the praise and add another finger before increasing the pace of your thrusts, sucking harder onto her pulsing bud.
lewd squelching sounds fill the room from your fingers slamming in and out of her, and from your mouth greedily lapping at her.
“gonna be useful and make me cum?” she looks down at you with furrowed brows, eyes bouncing between yours and your mouth on her.
you look up at her, her gaze intimidating even in her vulnerable position, and you feel your arousal dripping between your thighs.
ellie shoves your face deeper, bucking her hips aggressively, loud strangled grunts spilling from her mouth. her head rolls back as she closes her eyes and bites her lip.
finally, her body tenses up and her shaky thighs squeeze around your head, clenching hard around your fingers. “oh f-fuck baby nghh. lick it all up and then, mphh, stick out your tongue,” she pants. you lap her up before curling into her hole, collecting all of her arousal.
you stick out your tongue, her cum dripping onto your bottom lip down your chin and she groans. “you look like such a slut with my cum all over your face. so pretty.”
she spits in your mouth, “now swallow.” you do as she says with no hesitation, and she strokes your cheek. “good girl.”
she swipes a thumb over your glistening chin and pops it into her mouth. sliding her hand down your arm and grabbing your hand, she takes your fingers and rolls her tongue over them, sucking them into her mouth, tasting herself. you let out a moan and she chuckles, “you like that, huh?”
you squeak out a ‘yes’ and she leans in to kiss you for the first time tonight. she grabs onto your jaw and slides her tongue against yours. you feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, tugging on her hair, making her groan. she sucks on your lip and pulls back, both of you breathless.
“you did good.” she bites her lip looking down at your naked body and pinches your nipple, before pulling you up by your arm and bending you over the bed. “stay.”
“got anything else you wanna say to me?” ellie says pounding harder into you between each word. she pulls out fully and slams back into you, making you whine. your body gives out and she wraps her arm around your waist to hold you back up.
she leans down and places sloppy kisses behind your ear and neck to your cheek, “hm?” “n-no ellie.”
she chuckles, “fucking the attitude right out of you. just needed to be put in your place, huh?”
you moan and your legs start to shake, “mhmm I’m sorry.” you’re not sorry, you’re loving this right now, and ellie knows that.
she laughs, “no you’re not, you’re just a greedy slut. don’t fucking cum until I say so, got it?” her breathy, whispered tone contradicting her harsh words.
your mind is too far away, in a haze of euphoria, only distantly registering her words.
she stills inside of you, making you whine in protest. “you gonna answer when I’m talking to you baby?” she slaps your ass and pulls out before plunging back into you hard, making your eyes cross and arms give out, upper body falling flat onto the bed. you can feel her grinding against you for her own pleasure, waiting for you to answer her.
“yes! yes yes ellie,” you whimper, “I understand.”
she gently glides her hand from the base of your spine to the dip between your shoulder blades and leans over you completely, naked chest pressed against your back. angling your jaw to look at her, she studies you for a moment, before her lips attach to the curve of your neck, her teeth scraping against the soft skin. her tongue soothes the mark, and she tugs on your hair until your lips meet, sliding her tongue into your mouth and nipping on your bottom lip. “good girl.” you chase her lips when she pulls away and she chuckles, not giving you what you want.
ellie stands up fully and grips onto your hips, arching your back before slamming into you hard and fast. she watches your ass ripple with each thrust, “you’re perfect, fuck.” she mutters breathlessly.
“oh my god,” you gasp out, “s-so deep.”
“yeah? you like when I fuck you like this?” she changes her angle slightly, somehow going deeper than before.
“mmm ellie, please!” tears are rolling down your face.
“please what?” her pace never faltering. “please I wanna cum,” you whine. ellie wanted to take a picture, hold on to this breathtaking view of you below her.
“just sh-shut up and fucking take it. you can hold on a little longer.” she breathes out shakily, chasing her own orgasm, pounding into you harder and faster.
ellie’s grunts and moans start to turn more animalistic, slightly higher in pitch. she leans down and starts rubbing your clit in fast circles. “ellie ellie please I-I can’t.” you stretch your hand behind you in search of hers and she intertwines her fingers with yours.
“okay baby, cum for me.” your body starts to tremble violently. you moan into the sheets, seeing stars as you gush around the strap, gasping for air. ellie lets out a guttural moan, “fuck, yeah, good fucking girl.” she leans against you, hips slamming sloppily into you as her body shakes, succumbing to her own release.
when you come back to earth, ellie is immediately scooping you up into her arms, brushing the hair out of your face. your body is still trembling, breath still heaving as you come down from your high. “hey shh shh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay. you did so good for me.” she kisses you passionately and slowly. she places gentle kisses all over your face to help soothe you before leaning your head into her chest, rubbing your back in small circles. when you pull back to look at her, she smiles, stroking your cheek. “I love you, sweet girl. wanna go take a bath?” you nod and lean in to give her a soft kiss, “I love you too.”
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zarvasace · 27 days ago
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Whumptober day 18: possession. Image description under cut!
Edit: next>>
This comic is done in tall pages with a gray background. All the lines have a pencil-like texture to them, and it is not colored. Most lines and text are in black, with white and red being used symbolically and sparingly.
Page One
Panel one: A sketched landscape that evokes the Dueling Peaks of Wild’s world, lit in bright red by a full and bloody moon.
Panel two: A line of silhouettes, lit slightly in red light for some detail. They are walking toward the right side of the page. From right to left: Wolfie, facing forward. Time. Warriors, looking backward. Wild, looking up with his slate in his hands. Legend looking around. Hyrule, jogging to catch up. Wind, shading his eyes and looking up. Sky, glancing backward. Four, fully stopped and looking back down at his shadow on the ground. The text reads, in quotes as if recalling something from a memory: “Monsters stalk the shadows here, once they’re dead. Blood moons bring them back.”
Panel three: We see Four’s head and hand, reaching out toward something slightly below him. His expression is concerned. He’s lit in red light, including two little reflected red blood moons in his eyes. The text is not in any quotes or speech bubbles, as if they are Four’s thoughts: “...bring them [underlined] back. Could it?”
Panels four and five: Four, still in silhouette, kneels next to a puddle of bubbling shadow, lit in red light. First he reaches down toward it, and in the next panel, his hand pulls back suddenly as the shadow begins to extend upward. Flecks of red evoke the Malice in the air, and become more intense in the fifth panel. The fifth panel is interrupted by a large (loud) exclamation from an unknown source, with a dash before to indicate that the speaker interrupted themself: [all caps] “—FOUR!”
Page Two
Panel one: Four glances over his shoulder, still lit in red light with flecks of red flying around him. There are tiny tears in the corners of his eyes, and he’s smiling. He says: “Calm down, its [underlined] okay!”
Panel two: A copy of the previous panel, except for a few differences. Four’s tears are gathering a little bigger. The red flecks in the air have turned to flaming shapes. Four says: “It’s just my S—” but is cut off by the next panel.
Panel three: Four is still looking back, but a bright flash of red interrupts what he’s saying. His eyes go round, his tears fall, and he stops speaking. The red lights in his eyes are bigger. 
Panel four: Four kneels down in the middle of the panel, while shapes that suggest the other Heroes gather around him, indistinguishable from each other. Red flecks fly around them all. Text fills the background, as if from the Heroes muttering, but there is now way to tell who is saying what: “FOUR! That doesn’t look good. What happened? He doesn’t usually linger behind. Give him some space. He said to calm down? That’s the opposite of what we should be— Who has the Ma— [cut off by shapes] He has a moon pearl, right? He never touches the thing.”
Panels five, six, and seven: These panels are a sequence left to right, separated by dotted lines instead of solid ones. In them, we see Four, but not any of his facial features. In panel five, he stands up (there’s a word to make it clear: “RISE”.) In the next, he raises his hands to look at them, and lines indicate that he’s wobbling. His feet are turned in ever so slightly. In the last panel of this sequence, he is still looking at his hands, but there is less wobbling and he’s standing more firmly. All through these panels, he doesn’t say anything, and red wiggly lines surround him. 
Panel eight: A shot of Hyrule, looking grim with a shield already out, Legend, looking a bit worried with a hand on the hilt of his sword at his back, and Wild, who’s definitely worried. They’re all outlined in red light, but don’t have any red shining in their eyes. Wild, in a wobbly speech bubble, says: “...Four?”
Page Three
Panel one: This panel takes up most of this page, and shows Four looking up, with one hand on his head and a huge, maniacal smile on his face. His eyes are fully red, and he’s still lit in red light. Flecks of red fly around him, and the panel is shaded and has more detail than the others have had. A series of “AHAHAHA” laughing is repeated behind him. He says, in all-caps with a red speech bubble: “I KNEW THE LITTLEST WOULD BE EASIEST TO TAKE!!”
Panel two: This isn’t Four, but it is his body. Not-Four laughs, one hand up by his face, and keeps speaking with red speech bubbles: “The idiot let me right in! Me, his dead friend?”
Panel three: All eight of the other Links with swords and some shields out, making angry eyes as they stand in a line. The sky is red behind them. We see the top silhouette of Not-Four’s head, and he says: “oh… uh…”
Panel four: A copy of the last panel, except now each of the other Links looks either surprised or even angrier. They all shout: “STOP!” but the silhouette of Four’s head is now dissolving into red light. He says, “catch you suckers later!”
Page Four
There is only one panel on this page, and it is quite spread out to illustrate a lull in the action.
At the top, we see the moon outlined in red, but now with white on the inside and around it, as if the blood moon is disappearing. 
Text, without speech bubbles but staggered so that each sentence seems to come from someone else, without any hints as to who says what: “Does anyone have any idea what that was? …nobody? Where’s Four? What was that? He’s possessed?!” And at the bottom of this block, there is more text: “Guys… Who’s that?”
At the bottom of this page, we see a Four-like figure lying slumped on the ground, a few sparkles of white around him. He looks to be asleep. The end of his hood is curled above him without a charm, as if floating with a mind of its own.
The very bottom has text in white, the artist’s signature: “mina @ zarvasace”
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steventhusiast · 7 months ago
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STWG prompt 18/4/24
prompt: the beemer
pairing/character(s): steddie
-
"I didn't see your van outside, you need a ride home?" Gareth asks as everyone's packing up their dice sets.
Eddie looks up from scribbling notes down about important character actions with a hum, and notices that the concerned look on Gareth's face is mirrored by Jeff and Freak.
The freshmen members of the club aren't interested, whispering excitedly amongst themselves about something that will probably cause Eddie problems at their next session. (He catches some complaints about biking home too. Losers.)
"What? No, no, don't worry man." He assures with a smile, and goes back to his notes. Steve's picking him up today. They have a date. Which, sure, he's been on a few official dates with Steve now, but they still make him so... jittery and excited.
He shakes his head at the half-finished page of his notebook and readies his pen. He can't forget that Mike now has a bag of holding, so he writes that down and then closes the notebook and nods to himself, satisfied.
When he looks back up his bandmates are still staring at him in concern.
"What?"
"You literally never leave your van at home." Jeff points out, and then Freak adds on:
"You call it your child sometimes."
"Hey. Pac-Van is a she, thank you very much." Eddie says, "But seriously, it's fine. I just got a ride this morning and he's picking me up too."
He hasn't gotten round to telling them about him and Steve yet. He knows they'll take great pleasure in making fun of him getting with a jock. You know, because of all those rants he likes to go on at the lunch tables about said jocks... Whatever.
"From Wayne?"
"No." He rolls his eyes at the questioning and shoves his stuff into his backpack, then makes a quick decision. Fuck it, "I promise I'll be fine, you big babies. Harrington's a good driver."
"Harrington?!" They all ask in sync, and that gets the attention of their newer recruits, who are still chattering away. Their heads all snap over to them.
"Why're you talking about Steve?" Mike asks, looking vaguely disgusted. Dustin elbows him in the side.
"Don't worry your angsty little head about it, Wheeler." Eddie says with a grin, and then finally picks up his backpack, "Now I have places to be and people to see so I trust you all to leave this room as you found it? I gotta go."
And with that he leaves the room, ignoring Freak's voice from behind him.
"I thought he was just giving you a ride home."
He makes it to the parking lot just as the beemer pulls in, and finds a smile appearing on his face at the sight. Because he's feeling dramatic, he does a wild little wave at the car. He can't see Steve yet, but he knows that made him chuckle, or at least smile.
"Hey, taxi for Munson?" Steve yells out of his window as he slows the car to a stop, and Eddie's smile widens.
"Oh, we're roleplaying tonight, are we?" He asks as he walks around to the passenger side and gets in. He's pretty sure Steve rolls his eyes at him, but he's also pretty sure he's doing it in a fond way. Hopefully.
Steve doesn't drive off immediately, a glint of something intense in his gaze as he looks at Eddie. He's leaning toward Eddie a little too, and having Steve Harrington's full attention on him is not something Eddie's used to yet, so an unbidden blush appears on his cheeks.
"Good day?"
"Great day, Stevie."
"Good. Can't wait to hear about it over dinner." Steve nods, and his eyes flicker down to his lips for a second, and then he leans out of Eddie's space to start the car up again.
Right. Public space. Homophobic small town. Yadda yadda, kissing can wait until they're safely indoors.
Eddie's too busy fiddling with the radio as the beemer drives off to notice Freak, Gareth and Jeff stood staring at the car from in front of the school doors, perplexed looks on their faces, as the freshmen run over to the bike racks. But he'll definitely be hearing all about their thoughts at band practice.
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mingtinysworld · 3 months ago
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Just one more
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Pairing: choi jongho x fem!reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 2.4k
Summary: Jongho doesn’t like it when you don’t listen to him. What he doesn’t like even more is when you play with yourself while he’s not there to enjoy it.
Warnings: MDNI, dom Jongho, sub reader, masturbation (f/m), reader watches porn, belt used as handcuffs, use of ‘slut’, pet names (princess, darling, baby), oral (f receiving), fingering, orgasm denial
A/n: I hope you liked this! Lowkey, the Jongho brainrot has been going crazy lately. Constantly thinking about him. Anyways. If you enjoyed please like, comment or reblog. ily - jules
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You’ve been feeling restless all day. Jongho had promised to come home early so you could spend some time together. Lately, he’s been so busy that he’s constantly at the office, only coming home to sleep for a few hours.
You try your best to be understanding, knowing how uptight and rigid his boss can be. You also can’t help but feel a little sad, perhaps a bit neglected. You know Jongho loves you, but you want the attention you so greatly long for.
You take another look at the clock and see that it’s almost midnight. You sigh and throw yourself backwards on the bed, stretching in a starfish pose. The longer you stare at the ceiling, the more worked up you become. Sleep completely escapes you and all you can think about is Jongho.
Jongho and his massive cock.
How it stretches you. It always feels as if he’s going to split you in half and you can’t even complain. You love it and you know you wouldn’t have it any other way. The thoughts of Jongho floating in your mind make your body prickle with heat. Your hand trails down to your tiny sleep shorts unconsciously, bunching the fabric in a way that drags against your clit. You let out a feeble cry, reveling in the long awaited touch.
You let out a soft curse as a single finger enters you. Your hips lift up to meet the stimulation and you try to chase your high. After a few moments of scissoring yourself open you add a second finger, groaning at the insufficient stretch. You need more. You need Jongho. You won’t get him for a while though so you settle on the next best thing.
You grab your phone off the nightstand and scroll through to a page that feels illegal. You know you shouldn’t, you should wait for Jongho to get home. But you’re so desperate, so eager for something extra to get you off. You file the guilt away and get comfortable once more.
You focus on the figures moving on your screen, trying your best to imagine it’s Jongho and you. Your breathing gets heavier by the minute and you feel like you’re about to explode. You move your fingers at a rapid pace and you feel so desperate to come that you can’t even think of anything else.
You can’t help but let out strained whines as you buck your hips. You feel a knot forming in your stomach and you’re eager to let go. You choke out a moan and come with a force so strong that it makes your vision blurry. You drop your phone on your stomach, the dirty video still playing. You throw your head back and exhale at the overwhelming yet euphoric feeling.
As you’re coming down from your high, you don’t notice Jongho slinking in through the door. He walks with quiet steps, observing your naked form. He watches your heaving chest and he can immediately feel the tightening of his pants. However, as ravishing as you look, he can’t have you acting out like this.
He takes note of the video on your phone, and clicks his tongue in disapproval. At the noise, your eyes fly open. You panic at the presence of Jongho and scramble to turn your phone off and to cover yourself as best you can.
“You really couldn’t wait for me princess? Just had to watch strangers fuck to feel something?” His face doesn’t betray his feelings. He stares at you with an intensity that makes you freeze. “Answer me.”
“I-I no, no Jongho, I just ha-had to…I’m sorry.” You avert your gaze and stare at the edge of the bed. “I know I should’ve waited for you.”
He grunts at that. “Damn right you should’ve.” He turns to the closet, losing his shirt as he goes. You follow his movements with a wide stare, not sure what to anticipate. He neatly hangs his crisp polo shirt, ensuring no wrinkles will appear. Your breath hitches once he turns around.
You gape at his well built chest. You see it every day, but it still takes you by surprise every time. You so badly want to run your hands across his torso, but choose to stay still.
“On the floor princess.” He patiently stands there as you scramble off the bed, obeying him straight away. You tuck your knees under you and lean against the side of the bed. You gulp dramatically as you look up at Jongho towering over you. He looks down at you as if you’re a mere speck of dust, so tiny and insignificant.
After one approving nod at you, he undoes his belt. The clanking of the metal sends a jolt through you, making your heart beat rapidly. He takes his time, maintaining the concentrated eye contact. You feel your mouth go dry, and you excite yourself at the idea of him finally in your mouth.
Once his belt is off he crouches down to be on your level. “Now princess, I’m gonna have to be a little mean.” He doesn’t look at you as he wraps the leather around your wrists. “I didn’t want to be mean, but you’re not leaving me with many options.”
He tugs at the makeshift cuffs, ensuring that it’s not too tight. “I need you to be good for me alright?”
You give a simple nod which seems to please him. After checking the tightness of your restraint, he stands up with a grunt. He’s wearing a passive expression, as if he’s unaffected by everything that’s happening. And maybe he is. You never quite know what to expect from Jongho.
He reaches into his trousers, pulling out his aching hard cock. You can already feel your mouth watering at the sight. Staring at the engorged tip, you’re overcome with the desire to take him into your mouth right away. However, you resist, even though it feels like torture.
He doesn’t take off his bottoms, only sliding it down a few inches to give him enough space to move. You can’t help but feel immensely aroused by the scene unfolding before you. Jongho, his chest exposed to the warm lighting. Jongho, with his beautiful and tempting cock right in your face.
“One rule baby, eyes on me only,” he says in a calm manner. “Don’t look away.”
You feel your throat constrict from your pulse speeding up, and all you can manage is a weak nod. He rolls his eyes at your lack of words.
“That’s fine, you don’t have to talk. One less slutty hole to take care of.”
Jongho slides a careful hand down his length, resulting in a light hiss from him. It seems as if he’s been worked up for a while, needing to take the edge off. You can sympathize with that, however your current position is allowing you no thoughts other than the creamy precum dripping off him.
You remember his words, and shift your eyes to meet his own. Jongho looks at you with a deep hunger, simmering within his belly. He bites his lip as he goes faster, his hand now making loud squelching noises as he gets closer to his release. You so badly want to look down, but his serious gaze makes you think twice.
“It’s hard to control yourself right?” He says breathlessly. “Well you’ll have to learn how to darling.”
In a moment of stupid bravery, you ask a question. “Can I please touch myself?”
He grabs ahold of your jaw with a tight grip, making your cheeks squish together in a way that he would find cute in any other scenario.
“Have you learned nothing?” He hisses out.
You should’ve known better.
You keep your silence and continue to hold the eye contact after your rejection. He pumps himself steadily, only letting out soft grunts for your ears to hear. Your head feels light, like you’re floating in the clouds. Your vision goes hazy the longer you take in what’s happening right before you.
“Please J-Jongho.” A timid voice escapes you.
“Please what princess? Do you think you deserve anything right now?” His strict tone makes you whimper, going deeper into that foggy state of mind.
After a couple more purposeful strokes Jongho comes undone. He paints your face with his release, spurts of white landing all over your cheeks. Some drop onto your lower lip and you’re eager to dart your tongue out to taste him. You feel filthy, and yet you still want more.
“Get up.” Jongho orders.
You scramble to get to your feet, aching for stimulation. You hope that Jongho will go easier on you now that he’s had a release, but you know that’s only wishful thinking. You settle against the headboard, hands still tied together in front of you. You’re itching to hold on to any part of Jongho, needing to feel his skin on yours.
“Spread your legs baby.” He instructs.
You spread your legs within a quick second which earns you an amused smirk from Jongho.
“How did I get so lucky with such a desperate slut?” He asks, however not expecting an answer.
As Jongho climbs on the bed, you can feel your heart racing. You try to control your breathing as if that will make any difference in hiding your want. The apparent wet mess that is your pussy is truly a sight to behold.
Jongho’s gaze is locked in. He stares at your center like he’s a predator, and you feel a shiver go through you. You can’t help but let out a slight whine.
“Shh baby, I’ll take care of you.” Jongho says sweetly, but you know better than to let yourself be fooled.
In a split second he’s on you. His face is buried in your cunt, making you yelp in surprise. His tongue darts out in swift movements, breaching your hole slightly.
The feel of his mouth on you makes you feel as if you’re floating. You can’t help but whimper, feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible.
“J-Jongho oh my god nngh please fuck.”
You just ramble without a single coherent thought in your brain. That’s what Jongho tends to do to you. He pushes you into that headspace where everything is fuzzy and pleasurable.
“Good girl, taking it so good.” His raspy voice vibrates against you and you mewl at that. He attaches his plump lips to your clit, sending shockwaves through you. You wish you could tangle your hand in his hair, holding him impossibly closer to you.
“Fuck Jongho! Baby I,” you can’t even finish a complete sentence. The only thing you can do is lay there and take it.
His tongue moves around in ways that shouldn’t be humanly possible, but then again, Jongho doesn’t even seem human sometimes. He hums in pleasure, lost in the feel of your plush pussy.
Your hips buck up against him, sending a clear message of needing more. He suckles on your sensitive bud with a renewed fervor, and even adds in a single finger to your hole. You moan unabashedly, not caring for much anymore.
“Almost t-there…” You let Jongho know.
As the bubble feels ready to burst, it goes away in a flash.
You let out a sob you weren’t aware of holding in. Jongho comes up for air with a look of smug satisfaction, staring you down with a challenge in his eyes.
“Sorry princess.” He says with zero remorse.
You open your mouth to say something bitchy but Jongho silences you immediately.
His mouth is back on you, this time with the addition of three fingers inside. His fingers feel so thick and perfect, filling you up snug. He works his tongue even faster, going in rapid and frequent circles. You’re sure the sheets are ruined by now, but you choose to ignore it.
“Taste so good princess, I might just pass out in your pussy.” His lewd words make your face heat up in embarrassment. You tilt your head up to the ceiling, blinking rapidly as if holding tears back.
Jongho slips his hand under your hips, moving you even closer to him. The movement causes you to gasp and uselessly flop your bound wrists around.
He speeds up his fingers, adding a squelching sound. All you can hear are the wet sounds of your sopping cunt and your loud panting.
As soon as your stomach tightens up once more, Jongho takes it all away. This time your tears actually fall. He takes a second to coo at your red, upset face. He cups your cheek tenderly, wiping away the hot tear streaking down.
“I know, I know. You’re doing so well baby, I’m so proud of you.” He takes another second to just look at you. “You can come this time.”
He goes down on you a third time, this time with an addition of a promise. You try to relax, knowing you’ll be able to come finally.
“God I love this pussy. All mine to take.” He all but growls, making you moan loudly.
“I love- to make you happy, just ah fuck just make me come please.” You squint your eyes shut, everything feeling so overstimulating.
You dig your nails into your palms, leaving red prints behind. Jongho is moving his whole wrist so quickly that it jostles you from your position. You feel your whole body moving along with his movements, creating a chorus of whines and whimpers.
You clench around him, making him groan in bliss. He uses his thumb to circle around your bud rapidly, making the coil tighten in your belly. Whenever you feel ready to explode, your release is granted.
You come with an almost scream, a feral sound you couldn’t describe even if you tried. As you come down from your high Jongho caresses your legs.
“Good job, there you go. Did so well for me.” His voice soothes you, sending a tingle down your spine.
As you open up your mouth to speak you wince slightly. Your lips are so chapped that it’s almost painful. You somehow croak out words.
“Lips. Dry.”
Jongho gives you a sympathetic pout and starts to move. You think he’s about to go get water but then you feel an intrusion into your very sensitive core. You tense up as he moves his fingers around. He makes a scooping motion and takes them out carefully.
Before you can resist he’s already put your own cum on your lips, smearing it around like lip balm.
“There, is that better?”
You stare at him incredulously, wondering which realm of hell he appeared from. You smack your lips together, tasting yourself.
Giving him a tired smile you speak. “Much better.”
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meazalykov · 1 month ago
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its more than a game
lena oberdorf x bayern!reader
part one here - part two here - part three (requested)
summary: you have to explain your relationship to the other team you're apart of
a/n: quickly wrote this last night so sorry for any mistakes!
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the new year has come and gone, and with it, a sense of freedom and joy you haven’t felt in so long. 
you and lena are together now—a couple, something you still find yourself getting used to, but in the best possible way. ever since christmas, it feels like you’ve been given permission to love fully, without holding back, and lena, for her part, has become your biggest fan, cheering you on from the sidelines during training and matches as she continues to recover from her acl injury. 
life feels... right for once, and you’re leaning into that happiness more each day.
a week after the season resumes, lena’s back to posting her usual tiktok videos, little glimpses into her life as she rehabilitates her knee and follows bayern around. one day, she records clips at training—joking around with the girls, rookie playfully doing tricks in her backyard, and then the next clip shows you. 
in the video, you're doing dumbbell step ups on the benches, your focus intense as you lift effortlessly.
“and here’s my favorite person doing some easy dumbbell step ups,” lena’s voice says in the background, teasing and proud. 
“which i’m jealous of because i can’t do that for... obvious reasons.” the screen fills with a playful wink from lena, clearly referring to her acl injury. 
she watches you with adoration in her eyes, and it’s so casual, so natural, that you don’t think much of it—until later.
a few hours after she posts the video, your phone blows up with notifications. most of the bayern girls are commenting, teasing lena and cooing at how cute she is. especially with tuva saying that being a wingwoman worked. 
they all know now, and they’ve been nothing but supportive, joking that it was inevitable that you two would end up together. 
however, it’s your national teammates' group chat that catches your attention.
“hey, y/n,” one of your national teammates, sophia, texts.
“hi, yes!?” you respond.
“lena oberdorf’s tiktok came on my for you page, you are in it. what’s going on there?” sophia says.
“what tiktok?” naomi texts. 
sophia sends the link into the groupchat.
it takes about a minute before the next person texts.
“yeah, you two seem... close. since when?” emily questions.
you stare at the messages, your heart skipping a beat. you don’t want to explain everything over the phone, not like this. you quickly type back, keeping it vague. 
“we’ve just been getting along really well recently.” 
a couple of the girls reply with skeptical emojis, and you know they’re not buying it, but after a few playful jabs and questions, they let it go. for now.
when the end of the month arrives, you have to pack up and leave lena for a few weeks to join your national team for friendlies against australia. you hate leaving her, especially since you’ve gotten so used to spending every day together, but she’s supportive, grinning as she wraps you in a tight hug before you go.
“go kick some ass, okay?” she whispers in your ear, patting your lower back before you leave for the airport, her breath warm on your neck. 
“i’ll be here when you get back. and we’ll make up for lost time.”
“promise?” you murmur, hugging her even tighter.
“always,” lena says softly, and with one last kiss, you head out the door.
during the camp, you and lena text constantly, squeezing in messages and video calls whenever you can. 
you send her pictures from training, she sends you updates on her rehab and cute videos of rookie, and each time your phone lights up with a message from her, you find yourself smiling like an idiot. 
one day, you’re sitting in the locker room, scrolling through your phone with a huge grin on your face, when emily nudges you, peering over your shoulder. 
“okay, spill,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “who’s got you smiling like that?”
you hesitate, but there’s no point hiding it anymore. “it’s... lena,” you admit, still smiling. “she’s... my girlfriend.”
the room goes quiet, and you look around to see varying reactions—trinity, mallory, sam, and emily fox have their mouths open in surprise, emily sams, sophia and naomi are beaming happily, and tierna and crystal exchange knowing looks. 
you can see the questions forming behind their eyes, and it doesn’t take long for them to start asking.
“wait, like... lena lena? the same lena who you—”
“—yeah, the one who made you so mad at the world cup?”
you laugh nervously, holding your hands up to stop the barrage of questions. “yeah, yeah, that lena. and... i know it sounds crazy, but... she’s changed. and so have i. we worked through all of that, and i actually... i really like her. a lot. it wasn’t easy, but... we found our way to this, and it’s... it’s good. really good.”
ashley, who was there for the infamous world cup outburst, shakes her head in disbelief but with a grin on her face. “so... what happened? how did it go from... all that to... this?”
you shrug, still smiling as you think about the months leading up to this moment. “i mean... a lot happened. we started spending more time together at bayern, and... i saw a different side of her. she wasn’t the person i thought she was. i guess we both... let our guards down, y’know? i finally saw her as someone other than a rival, and... she saw me as more than just the person to beat.”
“and now she’s making videos of you doing dumbbell steps,” lindsey jokes, and the room erupts in laughter.
the friendlies against australia go well—your national team wins both matches, and you score a goal in each. throughout the games and celebrations, lena is always on your mind. you keep texting, sending voice messages late at night when you can’t sleep, laughing at each other’s dumb jokes. 
being apart is hard, but it only makes you more excited to see her again.
when you finally get back to germany, lena is waiting for you at the bayern training facility, leaning casually against the wall with that familiar smile on her face. 
she wraps you up in her arms the second you step through the door, and it feels like coming home. after weeks apart, being in her arms is everything you needed.
you’re back to training almost immediately, and the first thing lena suggests is some light running on the treadmill. 
“all the girls need to get a bit of cardio in,” she says with a shrug, a playful glint in her eyes.
you go along with it, not thinking much of it as you step onto the treadmill next to her. but then, as you start jogging, lena steps onto the treadmill beside you—and you nearly fall off yours in shock.
“what are you doing?” you say, panic rising in your voice. 
“lena, you know you can’t run yet—you’re going to mess up your knee!”
but lena just laughs, picking up the pace to a slow jog, looking completely unbothered. “that’s the thing,” she says, grinning widely as she matches your running speed. 
“i can run. i got cleared last week.”
your eyes widen as the realization hits, and you come to an abrupt stop, hopping off the treadmill and grabbing her arm to make her stop too. 
“are you serious?” you ask, your voice breaking into an excited laugh as you look at her, trying to figure out if she’s joking.
“dead serious,” lena says, her face lighting up with pure joy as she stops beside you. 
“i can run again, y/n. i’m getting back.”
you don’t think; you just act, pulling her into the tightest hug you can manage, burying your face in her neck as the happiness rushes through you. 
“oh my god, lena, that’s... that’s amazing,” you say, holding her close, feeling like your heart might burst from how proud you are of her.
“surprise,” she whispers, laughing softly against your ear as she wraps her arms around you. and you hold her even tighter, knowing that this is only the beginning.
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steddielations · 1 year ago
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nsfw text, bdsm, sub eddie
Eddie’s always the more dominant one running the show with his hookups. It’s nice but it’s been so long since someone put him down, cleared his mind of everything except pleasing and being pleased.
He doesn’t know why he complains about it to Steve, who’s as golden vanilla as they come, who only offers a snort as he passes the joint back, “Eddie Munson can’t find someone who wants to slap him around? I can’t believe it.”
Eddie takes a disgruntled puff as Steve suggests he looks through their old high school yearbook, call up some of those guys that would gladly take a swing at him.
Eddie tries to tell him it’s not just about getting slapped around, it’s the whole mentality of it. The weed must be getting to his head, he can’t find the right words, but Eddie being Eddie, nerdy about anything that piques his interest, from dnd to submission, he’s got it all written down in his journal.
He’s not even all that high, doesn’t know why he willingly hands it over to Steve beside him on the couch, or why his neck prickles with heat even though few things truly embarrass him, or why it feels kinda good.
Steve almost teases him again but Eddie already looks strangely timid about showing him. It’s Eddie, so writing a guide for his weird sex is a very Eddie thing, and maybe Steve’s a little endeared by it, whatever. So he doesn’t joke, he blinks the glaze from his eyes and scans the page.
He doesn’t know a ton about this stuff, nothing beyond a couple girls asking him to spank them a little or rest a hand on their throat, it gave him a rush too but he tried not to think too hard about why. He expects to see things like that in Eddie’s journal and yeah there’s some, but also, Eddie’s written out why he wants what he wants.
His mind is loud. That riot of energy that surrounds Eddie, it’s hectic inside too, buzzing next to Steve even now. Almost a magnetic pull, sometimes Steve gives in, touches Eddie’s shoulder or his knee, just to feel his static, how it flutters and then calms under his hand. To be settled, Eddie’s journal says, to let his mind float, to feel nothing but intensely good, to trust someone else to think for him.
Steve’s seen Eddie parading around, the way he basks in any kind of attention and clearly enjoys having his way, but Steve can see the thrill of having that taken away from him. To be put down, the journal says, made to feel small with words, some mean and some sweet, with hands, both rough and soft. Eddie wants to be held down and fucked, overwhelmed to tears and praised for taking it, to be told he’s a good boy despite himself.
Steve’s face heats, doesn’t know why he’s thinking about what it’s like to make Eddie Munson feel small, to turn all his big fancy words to mush in that loud mouth that drives Steve crazy sometimes, to be the one this absolute hell of a boy wants to be good for.
Eddie suddenly reaches out, “Okay I think that’s—”
“Wait, I wasn’t done,” Steve holds onto the journal, but doesn’t keep reading, seeing how Eddie looks more flustered than Steve’s ever seen him.
“Harrington, this is getting kinda humiliating, man.”
Steve smirks before he can stop himself. “Thought that’s what you wanted.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide, sinking back against the couch. His face flushes slightly red in a way that puts a strange flutter in Steve’s stomach, seeing how he affected Eddie like that. His hand lands on Eddie’s thigh before he realizes he’s reaching out, feeling how he tenses then relaxes under the touch, looking as silently shocked as Steve feels.
“Not judging, Eddie, I swear. Just let me finish reading, okay?”
Eddie scoffs a nervous laugh, fidgeting and covering his mouth as he nods.
Steve goes back to the journal and his hand tightens just a bit when he sees what’s there. Eddie mutters something, biting down on his knuckles but he doesn’t pull away. It all makes Steve‘s palm heat up against his thigh, reading the next thing Eddie wants.
To be spanked, just hard enough, it’s more about the shame of the sting, the rush that comes from being a little helpless, the release that comes when his body accepts it all as pleasure. Steve pictures it, Eddie Munson, who treats life like a stage only he was meant to walk on, bent over and taking each hit. The way he’d writhe and bask in the humiliation, finally getting treated like the little star of the freakshow he loves to be.
The flutter in Steve’s stomach twists tight and hot because in his weed-hazy mind, it’s his lap that Eddie is lying across, it’s his palm stinging and making Eddie whimper, it’s him that Eddie’s looking up at with watery eyes begging to be ruined.
Steve swallows thickly when he comes to the next thing. The handcuffs. He’s always been transfixed by Eddie’s hands, how nice they look in all his bulky silver rings and chain bracelets.
He wonders if Eddie would look even better in handcuffs.
His eyes wander over to Eddie’s hands again, where he still happens to have two fingers bitten between his teeth, cheeks flushed and eyes widened at Steve. It’s a sight Steve doesn’t have time to really revel in how it makes him feel because Eddie darts forward, snatching the journal.
“Alright okay, I think you get it, the freak is into freaky shit, big surprise.”
Steve drags a hand through his hair, plays it cool even though he’s hot all over for some reason. “Yeah, you’re pretty freaky, but it doesn’t seem like much you’re asking for. I mean, nothing I couldn’t see myself doing.”
And Steve didn’t mean it like that, did he? Eddie seems to think so, he starts floundering to put the journal away, nervously laughing and muttering again. Steve watches him, trying to figure out why he likes seeing Eddie so flustered, then Eddie suddenly stops.
His eyes flick down to Steve’s lap and—
Oh.
“Steve… why do you have a boner right now?”
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hellishjoel · 1 year ago
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cherry 
7.6k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader
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pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4
summary: Joel invites you over for a movie night with your parents and Sarah out of town. How are you supposed to focus on the film with his hand on your thigh? 
warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20s while Joel is in his 40s), cursing, alcohol consumption, use of pet names, softdom! Joel AND dom!Joel (restraint by command), oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, reader titty appreciation, super descript about Joel’s bulging biceps (we all know the picture that came out with him holding onto his luggage and I have not REST)
A/N: I wrote all of this today.. I don't know what's wrong with me. I hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope these two are growing on ya'll as much as they're growing on me <33
Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him.  You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder.  “You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”
A few times throughout the summer, the lakehouse was yours and yours alone.  While on vacation, your parents always make it a point to go out to dinner and drinks with their old friends that lived in a neighboring town, leaving you in blissful solitude. 
You used to go with them when you were younger, too young to be left home alone. You’d hang out with their son, Nathan, on the tire swing or go swimming in their pool. 
Once you and Nathan both turned thirteen, you found that Nathan was involved in a lot of sports leagues that summer, and therefore he wasn’t going to be around much. Your parents didn’t want to punish you and force you to hang out with four grown adults all day, so they let you stay behind at the lakehouse. 
It was your first sense of freedom, taking care of yourself, having your own routine. You remember breaking into your piggy bank and riding your bike into town with Sarah that day to play at the arcade. You came back home with your lackluster arcade prizes and made mediocre hot dogs. It was a little lonely, the house often bustling with noise from your parents, but it was also serene to be alone. 
Needless to say, you were at peace to wave your parents off this morning as they backed out of the driveway and left you and the lakehouse for the day. 
Your eyes flitted over to the Miller’s. Both Joel’s pickup truck and Sarah’s used and abused 2000’s red Saturn were parked in the shade. Part of you couldn’t believe Sarah could even drive. That five-year-ish age difference felt even more profound as young adults. 
You tried to find ways to busy yourself tonight until your date with Joel. Date? Not a date. Hang out. Movie night. Meet up. Rendezvous. Literally any other word besides date. 
You needed to distract yourself because tonight was a ways away. 
You busied yourself with cleaning your room and bathroom, followed by reading on the dock. When it got too warm, you took a refreshing dip in the lake, followed by some leisurely sunbathing. After a shower, you found solace in jotting down your thoughts in your journal, channeling any residual nerves about the upcoming night.
You found that documenting your summer experiences provided you with a sense of clarity. You aimed to revisit these entries later in life, reminiscing about the intensity of your emotions. These pages held memories of your first boyfriend, the elation of passing your driving test, the ache of lost friendships, and the journey to college.
After the bonfire, before you couldn’t even think about sleeping, you were ferociously writing in your journal. The way your heart raced, the way you were so proud of yourself for taking a leap of faith with Joel. Because it was so, so worth it. 
In the decades to come, the memories you once experienced that felt so fresh would naturally fade. That’s the point of your journals, to document how deeply you felt about your life at the time. Pouring your emotions onto the page felt like tending to a wounded heart. In hindsight, those entries about sadness and turmoil elicited a little giggle. Your mom always told you that it was better to feel anything than not to feel at all. 
You wondered how much Joel felt, like, really felt. On the surface, he was as cold and unmoveable as stone. What was he like with his passions and the people he cared about? You knew he loved Sarah to an unimaginable degree. He would do anything for her. But besides his own blood, what were the things he cared about? 
After putting pen to paper, you shoved your journal under your pillow and started to get ready. You over-dicked-around, and now the clock was ticking.  
You wanted to look somewhat nice. After your recent interactions with Joel, one where you quite literally looked like you just rolled out of bed, you were keen on looking at least somewhat presentable. 
But it was a movie night, after all, and you wanted to be comfortable. You opted to wear something simple, not too date-ey, not too casual. But you did wear Joel’s hoodie. It wasn’t for any overt purpose but because Joel’s house consistently seemed to mimic an icebox. Joel struck you as someone who could thrive in Alaska, content in solitude amid the cold. 
The hoodie still smelled like him, mixed with a little residual bonfire smoke, but his scent was still deeply lodged into the fabric. A navy hoodie with fraying material around the neckline and cuffs. Well-worn and well-loved. He must have loved it enough not to take it to work because it was free of any stains and rips from what you could tell. 
You twirled your finger around the hoodie’s strings, looking yourself over slowly in the mirror. Your eagerness practically floated you over to Joel’s house, Sarah’s car now gone. She must have left for her camping trip. 
After taking cautious steps up Joel’s rickety porch, you sent a rhythmic knock against the Miller’s front door. You heard a few heavy steps on the other side, hearing a lock flip before Joel appeared in front of you.
“It’s about time, I was starting to sweat.” You said as you pulled open the screen door that divided you two before walking past him, catching his subtle eye roll as you did so. 
The house looked like the same as it did ten years ago. Lots of dark wood, a cozy living room with a fireplace, and a lamp in the corner by the window. Joel had the perfect view of the lake. You naturally gravitated further into the room to look at the water glisten as the last hits of sunshine glided over the horizon. 
“You want somethin’ to drink?” 
Your head snapped to Joel, your arms already crossed at the cooler temperature piercing through the material of your clothes. 
“Yeah, what do you have?” Your small steps trekked into the kitchen, finally taking a full look at Joel. Your face faltered at the sight of him. 
Joel had traded in his usual tattered green flannel for a nicer, cleaner denim button-up. He had on his staple worn-in jeans, and for whatever reason, he still had on his work boots. But his hair was sort of run-through, freshly showered and combed back. He looked handsome, clean, like he was trying. 
You slyly smiled at him. He seemed to quickly catch your drift, already avoiding your eye contact with a huff. “I got... Whiskey,”
“Ew, no.” 
“Root beer,”
“Nope.”
Joel let out an excruciatingly long sigh as he ducked his head further into the depths of his fridge, mumbling something about you being a piece of work.
“It’s water, or,” with a groan, he stood up from the fridge, “this bottle of wine. Probably old.” 
Old? The bottle looked nothing but. No dust, fresh label, barely chilled. You didn’t want to call out the poor man for trying to make tonight classy, but you knew Joel had purchased this bottle of wine for tonight. For you. 
If it were any other date or any other guy, you would have pushed his nose into it a bit. Teased them for caring and being so sweet. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Joel. And if you ever tried to admit that you saw right through him, he would clam up for the rest of the evening out of his adorable bashfulness. So you let it be. For now. 
“Wine’s good.” You say casually with a little nod, trying to relax your cocky smile. Even when he turned around to fetch some old wine glasses inside the very top of a kitchen cabinet, you could tell he was satisfied with himself. Hiding a smile with his back turned. 
You pulled the bottle closer to read the label. You rolled it around in your hand, your thumb tracing the stamped lettering. Cherry wine. 
“Haven’t had a chance to eat all day, got us some pizzas,” Joel said as his head nodded to the side, following the direction to two pizzas still warm and in their cardboard box homes on the counter. 
“Can’t have a movie night without pizza.” Your voice cooed as you set down the wine to take a peak inside, seeing all of its cheesy glory. 
Joel topped off a singular wine glass, your head twisting curiously at just the one. He clinked your glass with his beer bottle, and you rolled your eyes. 
“Thanks.” You murmured, turning on your heel to grab your glass and one of the pizza boxes before walking it to his living room. 
You sat right in the middle of the couch, not giving Joel any excuse to sit too far away. 
“Scootch,” Joel said as he motioned with his beer bottle to make room on the couch. You made a little noise of disapproval toward him. 
“Mm-mm.” You shook your head.
“What?”
Your sneaker tapped the heel of his boot. 
“Take those off. You can’t relax during a movie still wearing work boots.” 
He looked a little perplexed before looking down at his boots. Probably forgot they were even on. They were practically his spare feet at this point. 
“Fine. You too.” He said as his steel toe gently nudged your sneakers in return. You softly nodded, both of you undoing your laces. Sitting on the couch arm, Joel worked to loosen one boot and then the other, hearing the methodical snap of the laces. You slip yours off with ease, picking them up by the upper heel collar and tossing them by the door. Joel just kicked his aside and sat down next to you with a thump into the cushion. 
“We’re watching Pride & Prejudice.” You commandeered the remote out of his hand, his eyebrow cocking to you in disbelief. 
“The hell is that?”
Disbelief tangled your facial expression. “You’ve never seen Pride & Prejudice?”
Joel’s cocked his head to the side, face sitting like stone. Really? 
“Do I look like the type’a guy that watches Pride & Prejudices?” 
You rolled your eyes and huffed. 
“It’s based on the novel by Jane Austen. About... literally so much. The independence of women. Societal norms relating to gender and marriage. Any of this ring a bell?” 
“I know Sarah likes it. That’s about it.” Your smile quips up as you click play. “Perfect.” 
“Do we have to?” His annoyance held no restraint. 
“This movie night is to get back into my good graces, is it not?” You asked as your body leaned away, getting a good look at him. 
Through tight lips, he held back a smile before nodding a little and turning to the opening credits. “Yes, ma’am.” 
It didn’t take long for Joel’s arm to settle around your shoulders, bringing your body into his side. His thumb was stroking the hoodie you wore, his hoodie. 
In his close proximity once again, your senses pick up on his now all too familiar scent; Woody, minty, a little bit of citrus from his body wash. He smelled good, you wonder if he wore cologne tonight or if this was his natural musk. You wouldn’t put it past Joel to naturally smell this good. He was good at a lot of things without even trying. 
A few slices of pizza and two glasses of wine later, you started to feel the weight of Joel’s unbearably heavy arm. You released yourself from him and opted to turn and rest your side against the back of the couch cushions, putting your legs in his lap. 
You hadn’t been watching the movie for the last twenty minutes. Couldn’t stop trying to subtly look at how handsome Joel looked in the flicker of the television’s light from your peripheral. You couldn’t help it. He looked so big and hot, like a lumberjack, his stupid build alone making you fold. 
You bite at the inside of your cheek as Joel’s large and warm palm gently make slow strokes up and down your calf. Your body was trying not to twitch. Your heart was thrumming in your throat. You glanced up at him again, his eyes lasered in on the television. 
“Why’d he…” Joel’s voice trailed off, bringing your attention back to the screen. 
Your eyelashes fluttered, your brain trying to get you out of Joel Fantasy World and back into the film. “Hm? What?” 
“Why’d his hand cramp like that? Why’d they film that part?” Without intention, Joel’s curiosity was evident in his question. It immediately made you smile as you watched the television again, your body slumping into his side. 
“It’s not a hand cramp, he’s flexing it. It’s the film’s interpretation of his like… emotional turmoil and struggle. His feelings are evolving for Elizabeth, though he’s trying to appear all aloof and distant towards her. But their physical connection, he can’t really hide it, y’know? He can’t hide how he feels. So he flexes his hand because he’s affected by her presence and her touch. He can’t help it.” 
Joel’s hanging onto every word you say. You’re not so sure if he’s interested in the film as much as he is in hearing you talk about it. The hand that was messing around on your calf was now trailing higher up your thigh. And flexing the higher it climbed.
Your eyes looked from his amber ones to his lips, your heart racing faster in your chest. With one hand still clutching your wine glass, you managed to swing one leg over his lap to straddle him. You folded first. You couldn’t take Joel’s achingly slow touches. 
His enjoyment was obvious in his movements, his calloused hands slowly pushing up your thighs until they landed on the security of your waist. He was gripping the hoodie in his fists, observing your silhouette. 
“This mine, too.” It wasn’t a question, he was pointing it out to you. Joel giving you his own clothes to wear was by no mistake. It was a way of marking what was his, even if it was just in his mind. 
“Mine now.” Your words were whispered, leaning down and kissing at the hook of his jawline. 
“Like you in it. Wear it a hell’uva lot better than I do.” The shift in his voice was clear, huskier, and a little touch drunk. The film’s volume seemed softer now, playing as white noise and falling abandoned. 
His words made your stomach flip, your teeth purposely grazing against his skin. The motion made his hands trail down lower to the globes of your ass, humbly squeezing the flesh with the spans of his palms. A weak moan left your lips against his ear as he planted kisses on the inner side of your neck and on your shoulder. He was so fuckin’ greedy for you. 
“Joel,” you whispered between kisses along his jawline, lips coming up to his chin as one of your hands gently cupped the side of his neck while the other clutched your wine glass for dear life. 
As soon as your lips came close to his, you faltered. And Joel could tell. 
Suddenly both of your eyes were open, soft, and holding contact. Your lips parted, but nothing came out. The only thing that actually came from you was a little sigh of disappointment, your eyes shyly flitting away. 
Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him. 
You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder. 
“You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”
This was Joel’s second or so attempt to kiss you. The first time was on the tailgate of his truck, you didn’t even think about letting him kiss you in his woodshed. 
You weren’t trying to remain mysterious or aloof, something he managed to do so naturally. You shifted in his lap uncomfortably, your eyes drifting to the window behind his head and watching the water shift in the black of night. 
“It’s not that deep, Joel. Just don’t want anyone to get attached.” You shrug and shake your head. “I don’t know, who cares?” 
“I care.” Even blasted on movie pizza and beers, he was as quick as a whip. His care wasn’t soft, it was strong. He cared like a fiercely loyal shield. 
You exhaled a deep sigh, your chest reflecting your breath as he slowly brought you back to him.
“I’m scared that I’ll like it.” The movie’s distant volume was comforting white noise to your nerve-wracked conversation with Joel. This was perhaps the most you’ve talked with him in one sitting. And about something so deeply personal, too. 
He took in what you said, slowly beginning to shake his head as his hand cupped more seriously against your jawline. 
“”t’s just a kiss.” His tone was seductive, sincere. Whispering like no one else in the world could hear. “Kiss me.”
You didn’t feel pressured, Joel was looking at you like he genuinely cared about what you had to say. About the movie, about the kissing. He bought you wine, he got pizzas, and he’s suffering through a period drama to sit beside you on his couch. Damn you, Joel Miller. 
You felt your body relax into his again, no longer cold and rigid. Your bodies meshed as you fell into the front of his chest, your hand on his neck moving up to cup his jaw. You tilted up his face and received no resistance. Just kiss him. 
You met his lips, soft and sweet, delicate and gentle. Your hand slipped from his jaw and landed absentmindedly on his chest, feeling his thumping heartbeat against your palm. 
You didn’t pull away. It was impossible. 
He tasted like mint and whiskey, with hints of residual smoke from a cigarette earlier in the day. You wouldn’t know he smoked unless you were tasting him like you were right now. 
Joel was encouraging something out of you, deep and primal, as you let the kiss deepen. He took the lead with a heady mix of softness and urgency. 
He set a scorching fire between your legs, purely drunk on his lips alone. It sent a shiver down your spine how intense this stone-like man could be. Your mouths moved with desire and rhythm, feeling an electric spark that sent your senses ablaze. 
Goosebumps had sprinkled across the skin of your arms, your once soft hand on his jaw now clutching him there and tugging lightly at his curly tendrils. You weren’t letting him go. 
Your sounds filled the room, hot and wet kisses punching the air from both of your lungs. 
A breath was shared, your forehead on his as both of your chests rose and fell together.
His eyes caught yours. More?
You gently nod. Please. 
He was back with you in a hot heat, both of you wanting, no, needing more of one another. 
He balanced a tantalizing fusion of passion and longing, a magnetic pull that had you grinding your hips down into his lap. 
The world around you faded into a blur as you felt his tongue glide across your lower lip, asking permission. Your lips easily parted, tongues dancing and melting, your hands shaking a bit in excitement. 
Joel was consuming you. His tongue marking his territory as he explored your mouth before kissing you heatedly once more. You realized that the kiss wasn’t an exploration of feelings at all, Joel wanted to languish in your taste, stake out the claim of your mouth. Taste and territory. 
 A low grunt left the depths of his throat as your hips ground over him with desperation now. You could feel his dick swelling against your ass. 
Your lips quirked up in a smirk against his, you liked that you could feel his facial expressions, and he, yours. 
Without thinking, you went to cup his face in both hands, your wine glass dropping onto Joel’s chest, and what little wine you had left was splashing his denim button-up red. He didn’t even notice. 
“Joel--, wait,” you were breathless as you pulled away, his lips moving to the open expanse of your neck instead, his arms tight around your lower back. He could care less about his shirt, or the wine, or the spare glass rolling around between your stomachs. 
You laughed breathlessly, closing your eyes as you kept your chests apart, careful not to get wine on his favorite sweatshirt next. Your head fell back, your hair fanning out as you grinned at the ceiling. 
“Joel, your shirt is stained.” You tried to point out, both of your hands clamped onto his shoulders weakly to keep him at a distance. But his lust-filled lips had a taste of you that he couldn’t replace. His teeth grazed the soft skin of your neck, wincing lightly as you let out a broken little whimper. 
“Don’t care.”
Oh my god. Fuck. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, desperate for more, but you weren’t going to let him stain one of maybe three decent shirts he owned. And with wine, you had to be fast acting. 
“Come on,” you said weakly, not even convinced yourself to break away.  “Joel, your shirt-”
“Don’t. Care.” He growled through gritted teeth, eyes hungry as you felt him lick a hot, slow stripe up your neck to your jaw. Fuck, he felt so good. 
Despite his clear lack of empathy for his shirt, you felt bad because it was your spill, your accident to try and make up to him. 
You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head. He didn’t stop until you planted both palms against his pecs and pushed him back with little force, watching as he fell into the cushions with a lazy smirk on his face as he looked over you. Joel was drunk off your kiss. 
You found your footing on the hardwood floors, grabbing his hands and attempting to pull him up and off the couch. He playfully resisted, just kept sitting there as you weakly tried again. 
“Stop bein’ such a dick.” You huffed. His laugh filled the room, nearly startling you. It was always quite the opportunity to hear him laugh so big like that. 
“Couldn’t pull me up no matter how hard ya try.” 
“Shut up. Stand up.” You ordered with little follow-through from Joel.
He yanked his hands from yours and planted his palms onto the tops of his thighs, pushing himself off the couch and following you aimlessly to his master bathroom. 
“Do you have some hydrogen peroxide? Dishwasher detergent?”
He stayed silent but looked at you quizzically. You rolled your eyes and started looking through different cabinets. 
“Baking soda?” Cocking your head to him, he nods and disappears before returning to you with the little orange Arm & Hammer cardboard box. 
You cleared your throat and looked at him expectantly. 
“Joel, I can’t clean the shirt with you wearing it. Take it off.”
As soon as the words left your mouth, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see his lips upturned in a cocky smirk. Sometimes you just wanted to smack it clean off his face. 
Fine. With a sense of ferocity, you began to take him down button by button. He lets you. He even steps closer to your body, and you try not to get distracted by him. 
“I don’t wanna be the one that messes up your nice shirts.” You murmur. 
“t’s fine.” He cups your cheek again and tries to divert your attention once more. He’s not even actively trying to kiss you, he just wants to get a rise out of you now. You’re trying not to smile at him in the reflection of his bathroom mirror. Your elbow jabs into his bare abdomen after you’ve peeled the wet material from his torso. 
“Quit it.”
“Quit what?” 
Forcing yourself to turn away from him wasn’t enough. Now he’s behind you planting kisses down the side of your neck with his hands on your waist and toying with the hem of your sweatshirt.
You had to admit being on his lap like that got you hot and bothered to the tenth degree. Now you were nursing a stained shirt and the ache in your core. 
“‘lright, fine.” Oh, thank god. You could breathe again. You were this close to caving, and caving to Joel was a losing game. 
He found a towel and wiped at his chest and torso while you blotted away with a paper towel the excess wine in his shirt. After getting out what you could, you sprinkled the baking soda over the little splashes of red and added a few drops of water to make somewhat of a paste. Now you just had to wait for it to dry and toss it in the laundry. 
You hoped you didn’t ruin the denim shirt, you quite liked how he looked in it. The blue denim complimented the soft silver in his curls, and the cuffs rolled up accentuated his biceps.
Speaking of biceps. Your eyes innocently watched him move around the bathroom shirtless. He was somewhat toned, a handsome mix of dad bod and muscle. Like a sexy lumberjack. He was big and broad, wide in the shoulders and smaller in the waist. With all the summer log chopping, his biceps were toned.  
A shaky breath left your mouth, his eyes catching yours in the mirror before you quickly looked away, washing your hands of the baking soda paste you had made. 
“It’s uh… It’s good now. Just let it dry and put it in the washer. Alone. Without anything else in there.” You quickly nodded, over-clarifying again. You braved looking at him again in the mirror. Mistake. A smug little smile that beat up your guts was laced on his lips. 
Your hand was quick to reach for the door handle, but his hand was already on your other wrist and pulling you into his front. 
“Get back here,” Your name drips off his lips, and it’s drenched in lust. 
Fuck it. 
Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, feeling his raised trap muscles under your forearms as your lips reunite with Joel’s. 
Getting that first kiss between you two out of the way was a blessing in disguise because now you knew him. You were acquainted with his lips. You liked his taste, you liked how soft he was, you liked the stubble of his beard, and you liked the way his warm palms were on you as soon as you entered his space. He embraced every inch of you, his kisses were feverish, and they left your mind in a tailspin. No one had ever kissed you like this before. 
You ducked your head down before he could stop you, kissing over his wine-spoiled chest. You kissed lower and lower before licking a slow stripe up his sternum, tasting residual cherry and sweetness from the wine. 
Your lips parted as you looked in the mirror, realizing now that he had pinned both your wrists behind your back and planted them at your tailbone. 
Your doe eyes innocently looked up at him, his face masked in desire and an appetite for you. 
“Get on your knees.” 
A breath hitched in your throat, your eyes trying to focus as you looked over Joel’s face. Your eyes fluttered down to his biceps, strong and defined with veins lining like rivers coursing along the curves as they held your wrists back. You didn’t hesitate to drop down to your knees. 
He had let go of your wrists, so you brought your hands up to undo the button of his jeans, but he tsk-ed you. 
“But I-”
“But nothing. Put your hands behind your back again.” You pouted but obeyed. You wanted to touch him. 
Your lips parted as you watched Joel pop open the button of his jeans, his thumbs lining the hem of his jeans and boxers at his hips before pushing them down to his thick thighs. His cock was already half-hard from when you were grinding on him back on the couch. 
Your breaths grew heavier, you couldn’t manage to stay in his hoodie. You peeled the heavy navy sweatshirt off, leaving you in nothing underneath, which earned sweet praise from Joel as soon as you laced your hands once more behind your back.
“So fuckin’ pretty.. Look at you.” He lightly leaned over and cupped one of your tits, massaging it in the heart of his palm and rolling your taut nipple around with his thumb. A quiet whine was elicited from your throat, face crumbling as your hands fought hard not to release themselves behind your back. 
You wanted to touch him, cup his face, hold his thighs, wrap your hand around his dick that was flush against his stomach. 
A harsher tug to your nipple left you moaning, watching as he leaned down and let a long, long dribble of spit connect from his lips down onto your chest. Your head fell back at the cool sensation, feeling it aid the heat of your breasts. 
He stood up tall again, broad and towering, as you glanced over to the mirror. The dynamic was almost charming. You on your knees for Joel, his blushing cock swelling against his happy trail. He was so handsome, so greedy. 
Without thinking, you released your hands from around your back and moved to steady yourself on his thighs. 
“Not gonna tell you again, pretty girl.” You paused and looked to Joel. “No usin’ your hands tonight. Just that dirty mouth a’yours.” His accent was drenched with lust, dripping like syrup. 
You whined as you assumed your position with your hands away, not knowing what to expect if you tried to use them again. 
You attempted to crawl closer to him, your knees practically between his slightly parted legs. 
You kissed up his inner thigh, grinning lightly at the slight taste of his sweat. Your tongue kitten licked at his balls, hearing him seethe in a breath through gritted teeth. Sensitive, a little wrinkled, lightly groomed just for you. It made you smirk that he cared enough to trim. 
You tested the waters, letting your warm mouth coat him in saliva, going from one ball to the other until they were both practically dripping. His cock was twitching for your attention, but Joel was above begging and groveling. For now. 
With devilish eyes, you looked up to him as you suckled one of his balls. He didn’t stop you, just cursed a little under his breath as his chest moved faster. You picked up the suckling from him when he nursed your sensitive, throbbing clit between his teeth and tongue. Now, it was your turn to repay the favor. 
Your lips released him with a pop, and you watched as Joel let out a breath he was holding in. His hand loosely fisted your hair in a loose ponytail atop your head, a little moan leaving your mouth as your scalp tingled with his tug. 
Your eyes closed as you worked over the other ball, suckling and licking and doing it all just to watch his cock grow angrier and more jealous of the attention. Your own spit was falling down your lips and chin, coating your breasts in a glistening sheen. 
Working without your hands, you used your core to balance yourself against Joel. Your knees dug uncomfortably into the floor. He liked watching you work to suck him off. 
You had to look to Joel for assistance, his shaft so hardened now against his stomach that you couldn’t reach. You sat up as straight as you could, Joel smirking down at you and watching you struggle for a few brief moments. “Come ‘ere, pretty girl.” He used the free hand not tangled in your locks to guide his tip down to your open mouth, your lips wrapping loosely around the head.
You made the mistake of releasing him out of habit, whimpering as your knees scrambled on cold tile to get him back to the warmth of your mouth. He opted to help you again, guiding his tip onto your red, wine-stained tongue. 
This time, you learned not to release him. Your tongue salivated his tip, swollen and sensitive. You could tell by how tight Joel clutched your hair and nearly pulled you off. 
You smirked lazily around him as you took him deeper, your watery eyes on his as you interlocked your fingers by your tailbone. 
You were slow at first, little nods back and forth, up and down his shaft. You blinked through any residual tears, slicking him up with your spit and proceeding farther down his shaft. You clenched your eyes closed and choked lightly as you took him to his base, a low groan of praise leaving Joel as his thumb stroked up your cheekbone. 
“Fuck me, so fuckin’ good for me, darlin’.” His words were broken by his rasp, but the praise sent you into overdrive. 
You bobbed your head at a good pace, Joel guiding you by your hair up and down his shaft, slicked by excess saliva that was dripping onto your tits and your stomach. You had to take a breath, but you learned from earlier. Your head came to rest against his thigh, head foggy as his tip sat plump against your cheek. You looked at the two of you in the mirror, and it was quite a sight. 
Joel’s body was planted by his heels, his toned torso and biceps protruding with hints of sweat. You had black-smudged tears on your waterline, and your face was filled with warmth. Your hair was a mess, Joel gently stroking it back from your sweat-glistened forehead as you breathed through your nose. You liked watching you work in the mirror. Watching him get ruined in the mirror. Watching yourself get ruined in the mirror. 
You started your rhythm again, this time your eyes locked loosely on the mirror in your peripheral. Joel’s cock made you choke each time you took him deep, but you didn’t let it stop you. He was so close, you had the heady taste of his precum on your tongue. He liked it messy. 
“Fuck- can’t,” Joel let out a rugged moan, it felt like it vibrated the tiles under your aching knees. Your wrists were throbbing from keeping your arms back, hands clenched together tight as you followed his rules. “Can’t hold on when you take me so-- so goddamn good.”
You whimper-whined against his cock, hollowing your cheeks as you moved with intent up and down his shaft. You opted just to take what you easily could now, focused on keeping the pace and working towards his orgasm. You thought about Joel fucking your mouth, but he wanted you to feel some sense of control since you had your hands back. Maybe you wanted to lose all control. If it was Joel you were losing it with. 
Joel was close, he couldn’t hold back how messy he had gotten. He had a steel-tight grip on your hair, and his breaths were laced with broken moans and grunts of your name. He kept wiping away any tears that slipped past your eyes and onto your cheeks, despite being devastatingly close to an orgasm you knew he was drunk on. 
“Yeah, fuck me,” He murmured under his breath, his cock twitching deep in your throat now. “Take me so well... The fuckin’ best, babygirl.” The best. 
You watched through blurry, head-dizzy vision as Joel’s ab muscles contorted. “Gonna cum, baby, stay with me.” He panted, eyes locking on yours as you nodded on his shaft and continued your sweet rhythm. 
You whimpered as his tip pulsed against your tongue, going down on him as deep as you could and clenching your eyes closed, waiting for Joel’s impending climax. And he kept you there as he painted your throat white. 
His cum came out in hot ropes, moaning lowly against his shaft as you focused on tasting him and breathing through your nose. He was salty, little beads landing in the back of your throat as you swallowed around him. 
Joel’s moans were glorious, breathy, and aching to say your name. His eyes had fallen closed, his stance still tall and broad. You wanted to touch him, kiss him. You decided to lay your head against his thigh, still breathing around his dick as you watched yourself in satisfaction through his mirror. 
“Fuck,” he murmured low, pulling you off of him with a pop. Your jaw lightly throbbed, but god, you felt like you were in the clouds. 
“Hands?” Your raw voice whimpered. He gave a silent nod of approval, and with his permission, you released your interlocked hands and lightly toppled back on your ass, leaning against the door to his linen closet. 
Joel observed you for a few moments, making sure you were okay before he grabbed a spare washcloth and ran some lukewarm water over it. Your eyes peeked open when you heard his zipper go up on his jeans, seeing he had straightened out his bottom half. 
You tried to focus your vision, seeing him squat down beside you and lightly press the cold washcloth to your temple, cheeks, and up your neck. It helped, you were settled, safe, and with Joel.
“Holy fuck.” You finally said once you had come down from your high. Your eyes met Joel’s, seeing both of your mouths were quirked up in lopsided smiles. 
“Too much?” He asked, the washcloth now delicately cleaning up the saliva on your breasts. 
You slowly shook your head. No, never too much. Just new. 
You looked around, feeling an ache in your knees and in your wrists. You rolled your wrists in circles to relieve some pressure on the joints before you pushed your palms up and down your kneecaps gently.
“Hey,” Joel’s words caught your attention, turning to him as he lightly cupped your cheek. “You were fuckin’ perfect, darlin’.” A weak mewl left you, a tired smile on your lips. 
“You said the best.” 
“Was perfect. Was the best. Did a perfect job.” His praise punched excitement through your veins, regaining your strength to stand back up with Joel’s honorable assistance. You murmur a thanks before you make a grab for Joel’s hoodie. As if he was going to steal it back from you. 
Joel excused himself to go clean up the kitchen, leaving an attentive kiss on your cheek before he left you alone. 
You took a few minutes to rinse some water around in your mouth and try to brush your fingers through your knotted, matted hair. 
“Need to get yourself a brush, Mr. Miller.” You murmur as you pass him in the kitchen, seeing he pulled on a new t-shirt and that he had put some of the leftover pizza in spare Tupperware containers. 
“Can’t eat it all by myself, and Sarah won’t be home for a few more days.” 
You narrowed your eyes at him. He could so totally finish that pizza if he wanted to. He could do it tonight as soon as you leave. 
Reading your mind, he shoved the container into your hands. “Just-- fuckin’ take it, why you gotta make things so damn difficult.” 
You smirked and patted the container softly. “My specialty. Irritating old grouchy men.” 
He rolled his eyes and shook his head at you, picking up the wine bottle next and figuring out what to do with it. Your eyes softened, watching the gears turn in his head for how he was going to handle this situation. 
“Do you care if I take the rest of it home, actually? I know it’s yours, and it’s been yours for a while, but it was really good.” Lame excuse. Joel leaned into it though, nonetheless. You were at Joel’s side now, looking to him with gentle eyes and a tender smile. He teetered on his feet for a moment before he nodded and handed it over. 
“Yeah, you’re doin’ me a favor so it doesn’t just keep sittin’ in the fridge.” 
You nodded softly and tried to jam the cork back in as well as you could, Joel swiftly taking the bottle from you and popping it back into its home with ease due to his sheer strength. 
You turned to the television and huffed, seeing the credits of Pride & Prejudice roll. Dammit.  
Joel joined you at your side, crossing his arms and giving the television a once over. “So did they, y’know, end up together?” There was Joel’s pure curiosity again. This time, he didn’t hide it so well. 
“Guess you’ll have to watch to find out. Don’t forget to throw that shirt in the washer.” You said with a cocky grin, holding up the wine bottle and pizza leftovers in gratitude before walking to the door. Joel followed you out, and you looked at him curiously. 
“Gotta make sure you get home safe.” 
Your head rolled to the side, watching as he shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “What?”
“Joel, I’m staying right next door. You could see me go inside from your living room window.” 
He just shook his head and looked beyond you to the water. 
“t’s dark.” 
Your chest fluttered with warmth, a smile on your lips growing past one you could deny. Let him have this one. 
“Thanks, Joel. Thanks for the pizza and the wine and… stuff.” Now it was his turn to let you have this one. The stuff. The kiss. The multiple kisses. He didn’t make it a big deal, just rolled with the punches. You appreciated it. 
You wanted to know what was next for the two of you. The feeling of your cores grazing one another set a fire in you that only Joel could put out. 
You pondered whether or not to kiss him goodnight and find a lame excuse to try and thank him again for the wine bottle when you saw two pairs of headlights coming down the road. 
“Shit,” you murmured under your breath, looking to Joel with a pained expression. He looked disappointed. 
You didn’t say goodnight, you didn’t kiss him before you left, you just… left. You moved down Joel’s rickety wooden porch steps with haste, sneaking into the lakehouse through the garage door as your heart thrummed at a face pace. You felt like a child getting caught by your parents. 
You didn’t know what to do with Joel’s pizza container and the wine. You could figure out an excuse for the pizza later, so you shoved it into the fridge, but definitely not the half-drank bottle of red wine. You double-checked that the cork was in there tight, and of course it was because Joel pushed it back in, but you couldn’t help but check because it was going to be stowed under your bed for safekeeping. 
You changed out of Joel’s hoodie and into an oversized band tee, walking out of your bedroom with a book when your parents returned through the door. 
“Hey, kiddo. You’re still up? ‘t’s past eleven.” 
You try not to roll your eyes, biting down on the inside of your lip as you tightly nodded. “Yeah, I know. I stay up late a lot at school and stuff, working on papers or out with friends. Staying up past eleven isn’t that weird for me.” 
You didn’t mean for there to be so much venom in your comment, but you weren’t a baby. Nearly every day at the lakehouse so far this summer has elicited a few don’t call me kid, I’m an adult, I make adult decisions, comments from you. 
Your parents looked too tired to care, which somehow stung worse. 
“Okay, sweetie, we’ll see you tomorrow morning. Your dad and I are headin’ to bed.” 
Now you felt bad. You pursed your lips and nodded, putting your hands behind your back and resting them on your tailbone absentmindedly. This was the same pose Joel had you in tonight. You already wanted to go back there. 
“Sorry, goodnight.” You whisper, seeing your dad give you a tired smile before patting your shoulder. 
“Hey kiddo-” He paused at the nickname and took a breath. “Sorry.” You playfully smiled and shook your head. Go on.
“Do me a favor, grab the steaks out from the freezer and put them on a plate in the fridge. Wanna have Joel and Sarah over for dinner tomorrow night. Feel like I haven’t seen them all summer.” 
Your face went ghastly blank, feeling yourself fall hollow like a collapsing building. If it weren’t for how tired your dad was, he would have seen right through you like a ghost. “You- Oh, you want to have them come by for dinner? I don’t think tomorrow’s gonna work. Sarah’s camping and-”
“Oh, well, Joel can still swing by for dinner. Need to eat up those steaks. Every time I open the freezer, they stare at me. They’re beggin’ me to eat them, it ain’t fair.” 
You forced out a laugh, but of course, your father couldn’t tell. Just thought he made one hell of a zinger. 
“So-So Joel over for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Yeah, kiddo. And don’t forget to take out the steaks. Love you.” He turned the corner down the hall, and then he was gone. 
You sighed and lightly chewed at the skin around your thumbnail. Great. One big happy family dinner. And Joel. 
---
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(idk why so many of my tags aren't working. Might make a notifications blog instead where you'd follow it and turn the notifications on and I'll only reblog my work on that account. ugh a problem for another day, okay ily ttyl I'm gonna go watch twilight)
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belphies-cowgirl · 1 year ago
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little things you do for them
word count: 500+
Lucifer 
sitting next to him on the piano bench and turning each page of sheet music for him while he plays.
sitting in his lap while cupping the side of his face and rubbing your thumb across his cheekbone in the privacy of his office whenever he's stressed out more than usual (he'll press his forehead against yours and let out a content sigh)
when he opened a package and foam exploded all over him (do better Satan, that was a lame prank) you started to wipe his face clean, but he scrunched his face and tried to pull away because it was embarrassing and "not necessary" (don't let him fool you, he likes it when you baby him like that)
Mammon
that one time you waited for him after one of his modeling gigs with a sweet treat and a kiss because he looked so pretty wearing a suit with his hair slicked back.
running your fingers through his hair despite protests about how he doesn't need to be babied (he does) and that "it's no big deal" after one of his brothers takes a joke a bit too far.
zipping up his jacket for him and warming his hands up with yours whenever it's a bit too cold outside (give him a few minutes to learn how to breathe again because you're holding his hands)
Levi
moving his headset back on top of his head when it starts to slide back during an intense gaming session
leaving little love notes on his monitors sometimes (he has a tiny crisis when he has to take them down)
taking notes for him without him asking you to when he misses class (it melts his heart knowing you took time to copy and colored code your notes again for him)
Satan
rubbing his back while he lays his head on your lap and rants about a heated argument he had with Lucifer.
when you split a cute cat-shaped cookie with him when he decided you should have it instead and that he would order something else.
staying up late with him discussing a book, having little debates about the characters and plot points (he finds it endearing when you go on tangents or talk with your hands)
Asmo
letting him hold your hand while he searches through clothes racks 
moving a few loose strands of hair out of his face when he’s focused on painting his nails 
liking all his devilgram posts when you have some free time to go through them (feels really appreciated when he sees you've spammed his notifications because he posts A LOT)
Beel
gently wiping food off his face because he gets messy sometimes and doesn't realize it 
handing him an ice-cold water bottle while he's working out and dabbing his forehead with a cool towel when he gets too sweaty 
giving him snacks between classes so his stomach doesn't growl too loudly during classes (poor baby gets embarrassed when it happens during an exam)
Belphie
putting a makeshift pillow under his head when he falls asleep on uncomfortable-looking surfaces
moving his hair out of his face when you're trying to wake him up (he playfully nips at your hand sometimes)
sleeping with a few of his blankets so they smell like you and he can bury himself under them when you're gone (2 hours running errands and he acts like you abandoned him) 
✄ ——————————————————————
feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, or an ask <3
please do not use my work as your own! 
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fear-is-truth · 2 months ago
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void. ── patrick bateman x reader
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⟢ WARNINGS: fantasying about violence, sex & murder ・ foul language・sexism・ reader discretion is advised .ᐟ
⟢ TAGS: bateman’s pov・fem!secretary!reader ・“y/n” used i’m so sorry
⟢ WORD COUNT: 1,875
a/n: english is not my first language, but i loved the book & movie sm (might write a part two.)
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VOID
I flip through the pages of GQ, my attention divided between an article on the season’s latest must-have suits and the image that keeps surfacing in my mind.
Paul Allen’s assistant. She started working here a few weeks ago, and ever since, I can’t seem to get her out of my head. It’s irritating as hell. She’s not like the women I usually deal with—clones of one another, in varying shades of blonde. This new girl is different.
It’s not like she’s anything special—at least not in the usual sense. I remember watching her, studying the way she fumbles with a stack of papers, fingers trembling slightly. I wonder how they’d feel like wrapped around my cock.
She’s not like the others. Not like Evelyn, with her relentless neediness, or even Jean, who’s dependable but she is, well, Jean. Reliable, dependable, and utterly forgettable.. y/n—there’s something about her that feels different. Unspoiled. Innocent in a way that’s almost laughable in this city, like a virgin lamb wandering into a den of wolves, completely unaware of the danger that surrounds her. And it makes me want to ruin her.
It’s intriguing. It’s also fucking annoying.
I toss the magazine aside, the pages crumpling as they hit the sleek surface of the desk. My eyes drift to the window, where I can see the city stretching out below, a concrete jungle full of meaningless, vapid people.
My reflection stares back at me from the mirrored wall, and I adjust the knot of my Charvet tie, admiring how it complements my gray wool suit by Cerruti 1881. Everything is meticulously in place: my Valentino loafers shine under the soft glow of the overhead lights, and my skin is flawless, practically glowing from the morning routine of an intense workout and the application of a moisturising mask from Jean Paul Gaultier. I run a hand through my slicked-back hair, appreciating the perfection I’ve crafted.
I feel a pang of something—sadness? Anger? No, it’s more like emptiness. A void that no amount of money, no designer suit, no fucking (and later slaughtering) prostitutes can fill. I’ve been feeling it more often lately, especially when I’m alone with my secretary who’s in love with me. She’s always there, always willing to please, but she doesn’t challenge me. She doesn’t excite me. She’s just… there. I pity her, in a way, though I doubt she even realises it.
“Van Patten,” I reply coolly, leaning back in my chair. I feel the leather creak beneath me, a sound that irritates me more than it should.
“Going to Harry’s Bar later?” he asks, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. Typical. I stare at him, considering the offer. Harry’s is fine, but the thought of spending the evening listening to these idiots prattle on about which bar serves the coldest martinis or which girl they’re planning to fuck next, makes me want to drive a nail through my skull. Still, there’s a game to be played.
“No,” I say finally, my voice flat. “I have plans.”
Van Patten shrugs, clearly not giving a shit, and turns to leave. But then he stops, his gaze shifting to the hallway behind him. I follow his eyes, and there she is—her, holding a stack of files that looks too heavy for her.
“Oh, by the way, have you seen Allen’s new assistant? McDermott’s been talking about wanting to fuck her her non-stop. I’d like to fuck that pretty little thing too.”
I don’t react outwardly, but inside, I feel a flicker of something—anger, perhaps. Not for her, but for myself. For the fact that I’m letting this get to me. Because I too want to fuck her. “McDermott’s an idiot,” I say coolly, eyes narrowing slightly. “She’s not his type.”
He snorts. “She’s not anyone’s type. Too shy, too pure. She looks like she’d freak out if you even touched her. You know how some guys love that innocent act. Wouldn’t last a day with someone like Bryce or Preston. They’d eat her alive.”
“Get out, Van Patten,”
My thoughts drift to Allen’s last dinner reservation—Dorsia, of course. Bastard. I can’t even get a table there without months of planning, but Paul Allen—stupid, oblivious Paul Allen—walks in like it’s nothing. It makes me want to crush him, to take everything from him. Including her.
Once he’s gone, I stand up and adjust my suit jacket, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. I step out of my office, my eyes scanning the hallway until I find her.
She is standing near the copier, a stack of files in her arms, her head tilted slightly as she tries to figure out the machine. She isn’t flaunting anything, and yet, she still manages to catch my eye. The black dress she’s wearing is Donna Karan, I’m almost sure, though the cut is a bit too conservative for my taste. It clings to her figure, revealing just enough to pique my interest but not enough to satisfy it. Her shoes, I note with some disappointment, are Manolo Blahnik. Not quite as stylish as something from, say, Azzedine Alaïa— not predictable choice, though not without merit. The impression of someone trying to fit into a world she doesn’t fully understand. Cute.
“y/n,” I say, my voice cutting through the hum of the copier. She jumps slightly, looking up with wide eyes that are both fearful and curious. Interesting.
“Mr. Bateman,” There’s no coyness in her voice, no flirtation. Just that same goddamn innocence. My mind wanders, imagining what it would be like to run a blade across her soft, supple flesh and watch the light fade from those innocent eyes Her skin parting under the sharp edge of a knife, the warmth of her blood spilling out, the sound she would make. But as quickly as the thought comes, it dissipates, leaving me with a hollow emptiness that I can’t quite explain. It’s a thought that would normally excite me, but with her, it feels… wrong. Unnecessary. Maybe even wasteful.
I realise I don’t really want to hurt her. At least not in the way I’ve hurt others. Quite unsettling, I feel… disappointed in myself, as if I’m losing my edge.
“Call me Patrick, or Pat.”
I correct, though I don’t know why. I’ve never cared about what people call me before. I glance down at the papers she’s holding.
“Your boss is not in yet?” I ask, knowing full well he isn’t.
“No, he’s not,” her voice is breathless, carrying a slight tremor—I wonder how my name would sound on her tongue when I’m fucking her. I also wonder what sounds she’d make. Soft kittenish noises, maybe. Doesn’t seem like the type to spew profanity, but one can really tell.
“I’m just trying to get these copies done before he arrives.”
I nod, pretending to care.
“He’s lucky to have an assistant like you,”
A blush spreads across her cheeks, and she stammers out an thank-you, though I barely register it. My focus shifts to the gold chain around her neck—Tiffany. Cheap, sentimental. It doesn't belong here, but it suits her somehow, in that unsophisticated way.
“Though, if I were you, I’d be careful. He’s not exactly known for his discretion.”
“I’m…sorry?”
I smile, she’s taken the bait. “Paul’s habits aren’t exactly… discreet. Let’s just say he’s not very particular about who he spends his nights with. Or what he picks up from them.”
She blinks, the implication sinking in, and I see a flash of something in her eyes—concern, maybe disgust. Good. Let her think about that. It’s too easy to manipulate her, to plant seeds of doubt in that pretty little head of hers. I flash her a smile, one I’ve perfected over years of dealing with people who are far beneath me.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors,” I continue casually, “about what’s going around these days. AIDS is a nasty business. You can never be too careful.”
“But don’t worry,” I add quickly, my tone lighter. “You seem like someone who’s smart enough to avoid trouble.”
She doesn’t respond, just nods slightly, still processing what I’ve said. I can see the effect my words have had on her.
“Did you know,” I say, shifting to something more conversational, “that Ted Bundy once worked at a crisis hotline? Spent his days talking people out of killing themselves. Ironic, isn’t it?”
I don’t expect her to catch the reference—most people don’t. It’s just another way to distance myself from them, to prove my superiority. But then, she surprises me.
“Yes, I read about that,” she says quietly, looking up at me with a mixture of curiosity and something else—understanding, perhaps?
“It’s strange, how someone can seem so… normal, but be so twisted underneath the mask of sanity.”
I pause, taken aback by her response. She got it. She actually understood. For a moment, I feel a flicker of something—something almost like respect. But it’s very fleeting, quickly replaced by the familiar emptiness.
“Exactly,” I reply, my voice smooth as glass. “People are rarely what they seem.”
There’s a brief silence, and I let it linger, watching her as she processes our exchange. I’ve rattled her, but I’ve also piqued her interest. It’s a dangerous combination, one that I’ll need to manage carefully. But I’m feeling bold.
“By the way,” I continue, “I was planning on having dinner at Dorsia tonight. Why don’t you join me?”
She looks up at me, confused, unsure, and I feel a twinge of satisfaction. She’s still trying to figure me out, to understand what I want. It’s amusing, really, how little she knows.
“I don’t know, Mr. Bate– Patrick,” she says, her voice faltering. Her innocence, her reluctance—it’s intoxicating like pure, uncut cocaine.
I smile again, this time more warmly, but it’s just a mask. “Come on, doll. It’s just dinner. Besides, it’s not like your boss will miss you for one night.”
“Okay,” she agrees quietly. There’s that softness in her voice again, that genuine gratitude that I don’t understand.
“Excellent,” I say, satisfied. I turn to leave, but not before giving her one last look. She’s already turned back to the copier, but I know that she’s not thinking about the papers anymore.
She makes me feel… something, though I’m not sure what. It’s frustrating, maddening even. But it also gives me hope. Maybe she’s the key to filling that void. Or maybe she’ll be another disappointment, like the rest. But tonight, at least, she’ll be mine to toy with.
Hopefully that will be enough to stave off the void for a little while longer.
read part ll here
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 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.
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storiesofsvu · 3 months ago
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Midnight Baking
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Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, briefest mention ever of some unnamed stressful situation. (R doesn't want to talk about it because I was simply too lazy to come up with what was stressing them out, so...here we go. lol)
Emily stirred, her body twitching in her sleep as her nose scrunched up and she subconsciously went to pull the blankets tighter around her body. A cool breeze floated through the room from the open window, the summer night air far nicer than the scorching heat of the day. With it came a whiff of your shampoo, wafting off your pillow straight into Emily’s senses making her want to be impossibly close to you, the heat finally having vanished from the room. Rolling over she let out a groan as her body stretched itself out, pulling her slightly out of her deep sleep until her arm hit what was supposed to be your waist and her senses came to life when all she found was cold sheets.
She didn’t want to open her eyes, didn’t even want to fully wake up, but she wanted you and you certainly weren’t in the bed. She peeked one eye open, squinting around the bedroom to find it dark but the bedroom door cracked open and she wondered if you were in the bathroom. Her hand soothed up and down your side of the bed and not an inch of it held any of your remaining body heat, wherever you’d disappeared to it had not been recent. With a reluctant groan she pushed herself up to sitting, stretching out her body as she yawned, grabbing a hoodie from the floor and sliding her slippers on while she began her adventure through the house.
Upstairs was quiet, dark and empty aside from the soft snores coming from Sergio who Emily gave a little scratch on the head to as she made her way passed him. A light was left on downstairs but that was nothing new, it was instinct to always leave a couple on for the nights Emily was coming home from a case, never sure what hour she’d finally make it back to you. Wandering down the stairs she found the living room empty but a book upturned on the coffee table and a blanket crumpled up on the couch. Her lips twitched up into a grin at the thought of you burrito’d up with your favourite stories as she crossed toward the couch. She flipped the book over, sliding a bookmark into the open page before setting it back on the pile on the table, next neatly folding the blanket and laying it over the back of the couch.
A few steps later and she finally found the main source of light and you, both in the kitchen and she stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame to watch for a minute. You were lost in your element and clearly had been at it a while, there was a smudge of flour on your cheekbone, three racks of cookies already cooling and incredibly sweet smells lingering in the air. She noticed the window was wide open and upon lingering for a minute realized it must have been to combat the heat from the oven. Her eyes trailed back to you, a frown taking over her features as she began to examine yours, you were more than focused, it was almost intense, your brow furrowed, eyes narrowed just the slightest as you stirred up ingredients. She could tell you were clenching your jaw; your shoulders tense and she just knew you were holding stress in your lower back, especially with the way you kept shifting from one foot to the other to try an alleviate any hip pain.
“Didn’t realize I was living with Willy Wonka.” She teased and you jumped slightly, pulling out an ear bud.
“You’re supposed to be asleep.” You pouted, taking out the other ear bud to safely drop in a ramekin before wiping off your hands as you turned to her.
“So are you.” She replied with a soft laugh, moving through the room to wipe the flour off your face, “what are you doing?”
“Well,” you let out a breath before rattling things off, “I’ve got sugar cookies and chocolate chip cookies done, there’s lemon bars in the freezer setting, I just put in a batch of peanut butter cookies and am working on cupcakes. But I don’t even know if any of it will turn out, I’ve been doing it all by hand so I didn’t have to use the mixer and worry about waking you up.”
“Jeeze, how long have you been down here?”
“More than a few hours…” you replied sheepishly, your body nearly sinking around itself, “I couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to disturb you so I came down here to read. But my brain just wouldn’t shut up, I needed something to make me think and I’ve always kinda been a stress baker so…” You vaguely gestured to the state of the kitchen.
“Is this about what you told me over dinner?” Emily asked, stepping toward you and squeezing softly at your elbow.
“Yeah.” You sighed, “and talking about it won’t help so I’d really rather not.”
“That’s fine.” She shrugged, glancing around, “well, can I at least help?”
“How are you helping if I don’t want to talk about it?” You turned to her with a furrowed brow and she laughed softly.
“I meant with the baking.”
“Oh!” You huffed out an embarrassed laugh, your hand coming to cover your face briefly before turning back to her with a small smile, “yeah, of course. That might even help distract me more.”
“Good.” Leaning in she pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek before rolling up her sleeves, “well, what’s the next step chef?”
You giggled softly, sliding the mixing bowl you’d been using over to Emily and guiding her through the next few steps. While Emily was pretty decent in the kitchen, she certainly would never claim to have your level of skill when it came to baking and that was because she was never about following strict rules. She liked to add in her own flair, skip certain steps or mess around with the amounts and while that always worked out to delicious dinners, it would definitely result in cupcakes with the texture of sandpaper or butter tarts that were left soggy in the middle.
Having Emily in the kitchen with you not only distracted you, it calmed you down, relaxed you to a sense of peace that you’d been craving the past couple of weeks. She asked what you’d been listening to when she interrupted and you admitted with a small smile it was the road trip playlist the two of you had put together of all your favourite songs. You knew it wasn’t a road trip but music was known to bring back memories and every time you heard any of the songs you were immediately transported back to the adventures the two of you had together the previous summer. They made you feel warm and fuzzy inside and always brought a smile to your face and Emily felt the warmth bursting through her at your admittance, a grin plastered on her face while you guided her through the steps to make meringue.
The sun was nearly creeping over the horizon by the time you were finally yawning, a warm and gooey tray of cinnamon buns being pulled from the oven. Emily placed them on a rack to cool, washing her hands before turning back to you to ask what was next. Instead she caught you with your hands on your hips, chewing on your lip as you surveyed the state of the kitchen.
“You mentioned something about Rossi hosting a pretty big get together this weekend, right?”
“Yeah. Retirement party for one of the other agents on our floor, why?”
“Cause I think I maaayy have gone a little overboard.”  Your nose scrunched as you glanced over to her and she laughed softly, stepping towards you to kiss the tip of your nose, relaxing it as she did so.
“It’s the first time I’d seen you genuinely smiling all week, I wasn’t about to stop you.”
“Thanks.” Smiling softly you leant into the embrace, kissing her gently, “hope you’re ready to eat nothing but baked goods for a month.”
“Can we start with the cinnamon rolls and call it breakfast?”
An uncontrolled yawn escaped you when you opened your mouth to reply and Emily chuckled, “only if we follow it up with a nap.”
“Sounds perfect.” She pecked your cheek before moving to the cupboard, pulling down a couple of plates to serve the cinnamon buns with.
Overall you ended up with two batches of cinnamon rolls, five sheets of cookies, three dozen cupcakes consisting of vanilla, chocolate and confetti, three dozen muffins (blueberry, carrot and cranberry orange) lemon meringue pie, apple pie, lemon bars, peanut butter balls and a black forest cake. Emily stashed some of it, whether in the pantry or the freezer to save for later and helped you pack up the rest for that weekend, where you discovered Rossi was more than ecstatic to have someone else providing the goodies. Because after all, you were the baker, he was the chef, you’d stay out of each other’s ways but you each had your specialties and you were more than happy to share, especially if it meant quality time in the kitchen with Emily.
_______________
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mybelovedwoo · 4 months ago
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midnight ramen and longing hearts
san x f!reader
fluff, childhood best friends to lovers, angst, suggestive / wc: 2.9k
note: they went on their first official date. it gets a little suggestive at the end, oopsie!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3
A few days had passed since San and Y/n had confessed their feelings to each other. Tonight, they were going on their first official date, a mix of excitement and nerves buzzing between them. They decided to keep it simple and meaningful by taking a walk along the Han River, a place that had always held a special significance for them.
The night was cool and clear, the city lights reflecting off the calm waters of the river. As they strolled along the riverside path, the familiar sound of water lapping against the shore and the soft murmur of other couples created a peaceful backdrop for their evening.
San walked beside Y/n, hands tucked into his pockets as he stole glances at her. She looked beautiful under the soft glow of the streetlights, her smile lighting up the night. They chatted easily, discussing Y/n's latest book and her friends, topics that made her eyes light up with excitement.
"So, how's that new book you're reading?" San asked, genuinely interested.
Y/n's face lit up with enthusiasm. "It's amazing! I'm in the middle of a really intense chapter right now. The protagonist is finally starting to realize her true strength, and the plot twists are incredible."
San smiled, loving how passionate she was about her reading. "Sounds like a page-turner. I might have to borrow it from you when you're done."
Y/n beamed at his words, feeling encouraged. "I'd love that. We could discuss it together."
As they walked, Y/n continued talking, her words flowing easily as she shared stories about her friends and their latest adventures. "So, Chaewon and I went to this new café last week. It was so cute, and their pastries were to die for. We ended up spending hours there, just chatting and catching up."
San listened attentively, enjoying the sound of her voice. He wanted to reach out and hold her hand, to feel the connection they had always shared, but every time he tried, his nerves got the better of him. He'd awkwardly lift his hand, then quickly drop it back to his side, hoping she wouldn't notice.
Y/n, caught up in her stories, didn't seem to notice his struggles. She was talking a lot, her words flowing easily as she tried to mask her own nervousness. "And you remember Jiwoong, right? He finally got that promotion he's been working so hard for. We're all so proud of him."
San smiled, nodding. "That's great to hear. Jiwoong really deserves it."
As they continued walking, San felt his heart racing. He wanted so badly to hold her hand, to show her how much he cared, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. Each failed attempt made him feel more awkward, but he tried to focus on their conversation, hoping to find the right moment.
"And then there's Sua," Y/n continued. "She's planning this huge trip to Europe next summer. She's so excited about it, and I can't wait to hear all her stories when she gets back."
San felt a surge of warmth at how animated Y/n was when she talked about her friends and her life. He loved seeing her so happy and engaged. Slowly, he lifted his hand and gently brushed his fingers against hers. To his surprise, Y/n didn't pull away. Instead, she turned to look at him, her eyes soft and warm.
Without a word, Y/n intertwined her fingers with his, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him. San felt a wave of relief and happiness wash over him. He squeezed her hand gently, and she squeezed back, a silent confirmation of their feelings.
They stood there for a moment, just holding hands and looking out at the river. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble of warmth and affection.
"This is nice," Y/n whispered, leaning slightly against him.
"Yeah," San replied, his voice filled with emotion. "It really is."
As they continued their walk, hand in hand, the awkwardness melted away, replaced by a comfortable silence that spoke volumes. They didn't need words to express how they felt; the simple act of holding hands was enough.
-
They were nearing a quieter, more secluded part of the river path when a group of rowdy guys approached them, clearly intoxicated. Their loud voices and unsteady steps signaled trouble, and San immediately tensed up.
One of the guys, a tall and scruffy-looking man, swaggered closer to Y/n, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Hey there, beautiful," he slurred, leering at her. "Why don't you ditch this guy and come have some fun with us?"
Y/n's grip on San's hand tightened, and she moved closer to him, her face reflecting discomfort and unease. "No, thanks," she replied firmly, trying to keep her voice steady.
San's protective instincts kicked in. He stepped in front of Y/n, shielding her from the group. "Back off," he said, his voice low and menacing. "She said she's not interested."
The drunk guy's friends laughed, egging him on. "Oh, come on, man, we're just having a bit of fun," another one said, stepping closer.
San squared his shoulders, his eyes flashing with determination. "I said, back off. Leave her alone."
The tall guy sneered, clearly not taking the hint. "Or what?" he challenged, shoving San lightly. "What are you gonna do about it?"
Before San could respond, Y/n spoke up, her voice shaking but defiant. "Let's just go, San. They're not worth it."
San glanced back at her, his eyes softening for a moment. He nodded, then turned back to the group. "We're leaving. Stay out of our way."
As they tried to walk past the group, the tall guy grabbed Y/n's arm, pulling her back. "I don't think so," he said, his grip tight and unyielding.
That was the final straw for San. Without thinking, he swung his fist, landing a solid punch on the guy's jaw. The force of the blow sent him stumbling back, releasing Y/n. The other guys, momentarily stunned, hesitated, giving San just enough time to pull Y/n away and start running.
"Come on!" San urged, holding her hand tightly as they sprinted away from the group. The sounds of angry shouts faded behind them as they put more distance between themselves and the troublemakers.
They didn't stop running until they were safely back in a more populated area, the bright lights and presence of other people providing a sense of security. Panting and out of breath, they finally slowed to a walk.
San turned to Y/n, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tight with worry.
Y/n nodded, her breath coming in quick gasps. "Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?"
San nodded, though his jaw was still clenched in anger. "I'm fine. I just couldn't let them treat you like that."
His mind replayed the scene, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He was usually the one to find peaceful solutions, always calm and composed. But tonight, seeing Y/n in danger had triggered a primal instinct to protect her, no matter the cost.
Growing up, his father had always told him, "San, you have to protect your girl. Always." Those words had echoed in his mind as he swung his fist, and they still rang in his ears now. He had acted without thinking, driven purely by the need to keep Y/n safe.
San took a deep breath, his protective instincts still on high alert. "Let's head back to my apartment," he suggested, his voice steady. "It's safer there."
Y/n nodded, trusting him completely. "Okay, let's go."
They continued their walk, moving quickly towards San's apartment. The familiar route felt reassuring, and San's presence by her side made her feel secure. They reached his building and headed up to the apartment he shared with his two roommates, Seonghwa and Mingi. Y/n knew them both very well, having spent countless hours here with San.
San unlocked the door and ushered Y/n inside. The apartment was warmly lit, a comforting contrast to the chilly night outside. Seonghwa and Mingi were in the living room, playing a video game. As soon as San and Y/n stepped inside, Mingi looked up with a mischievous grin. "Well, well, if it isn't the new couple. About time you two made it official. I always knew you both had feelings for each other."
San rolled his eyes, but a small smile played on his lips. "Not now, Mingi."
Y/n blushed, trying to hide her embarrassment. "Hi, guys," she greeted, trying to keep her voice steady.
Seonghwa, sensing that something was off, paused the game and stood up. "Hey, is everything okay?"
San nodded towards Y/n. "Y/n, why don't you go relax in my room for a bit? I'll be there in a minute."
Y/n hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. Thanks, San." She gave a small smile to Seonghwa and Mingi before heading towards San's room.
Once she was out of earshot, San turned to Seonghwa, his expression serious. "We ran into some trouble by the river. A group of drunk guys were being rude to Y/n."
Seonghwa's eyes narrowed with concern. "What happened?"
San sighed, running a hand through his hair. "One of them grabbed her. I... I punched him. I didn't want to, but I had to protect her."
Mingi's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by genuine worry. "Are you both okay?"
"Yeah, we're fine now. I just didn't want Y/n to feel more uncomfortable by talking about it in front of her."
Seonghwa nodded, placing a reassuring hand on San's shoulder. "You did the right thing, San. Protecting her is what's important. If you need anything, just let us know."
"Thanks, guys," San said, appreciating their support. "I think she just needs some time to calm down."
San took a deep breath and headed to his room, where Y/n was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking a bit lost in thought. He sat down beside her, his presence immediately making her feel more at ease.
Y/n tried to lighten the mood with a playful grin. "Well, that was unexpected. I didn't know you had such a powerful punch, San. Remind me not to get on your bad side."
San chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Yeah, I've had a bit of practice I guess. Just a black belt in Taekwondo not much."
San's smile widened, enjoying the light-hearted moment with Y/n. But behind his amusement, he couldn't shake off his concern. "Y/n, are you sure you're okay? I didn't mean to scare you back there."
Y/n's expression softened as she looked at him. "San, I know you. You're not the type to throw punches unless you have to. You were protecting me, and I appreciate that."
San nodded, grateful for her understanding. But he could see the concern in her eyes, and he knew exactly what was bothering her.
"I know," he admitted quietly. "If anyone recognizes me, it could cause trouble. My image as an idol is everything."
Y/n's brows furrowed with worry. "Do you think anyone saw you?"
San shook his head. "I don't know. I tried to keep my face hidden as much as possible. Hopefully, no one noticed."
Y/n squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Let's hope for the best. Maybe it was dark, and they didn't get a good look."
San smiled faintly, grateful for her optimism. "Yeah, maybe."
They sat in silence for a moment, both lost in their thoughts. San couldn't shake off the nagging worry about his career, but he also felt a profound sense of relief knowing that Y/n was safe.
"I'm sorry," Y/n said softly, breaking the silence. "I didn't mean to put you in a difficult position."
San shook his head, turning to look at her. "Hey, protecting you was worth it. I'll deal with whatever consequences come my way."
Y/n nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, San."
San leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'll always protect you, Y/n. No matter what."
Y/n smiled, leaning into his touch. "I know."
They stayed like that for a while longer, finding comfort in each other's presence. Despite the uncertainties ahead, they knew they could face them together, their bond strengthened by the challenges they had overcome that night.
Eventually, Y/n pulled back slightly, her gaze meeting his with newfound determination. "Let's not dwell on this tonight. We should focus on us."
San nodded, a sense of peace settling over him. "You're right. Tonight is about us."
He looked at Y/n, a playful glint in his eyes. "Are you hungry? How about some ramen? It's nothing fancy, but it'll hit the spot."
Y/n grinned, her stomach growling in agreement. "Ramen sounds perfect right now."
San busied himself with preparing the instant ramen while Y/n sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen, fidgeting nervously.
As San boiled the water and stirred the noodles, Y/n bit her lip, unsure of how to break the awkward silence that had settled between them.
Once the ramen was ready, San handed a bowl to Y/n and took a seat beside her. They ate quietly at first, both acutely aware of the underlying meaning behind their late-night ramen choice.
After a few minutes of uneasy silence, Y/n finally spoke up, her voice hesitant. "San... about the ramen... I know what it implies."
San paused mid-bite, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Oh... um, yeah. I didn't mean for it to be... I just thought... we could have a late-night snack together."
Y/n's cheeks were tinged with pink as she glanced down at her bowl. "Right, of course. I understand."
San shifted uncomfortably, wanting to ease the tension. "I want you to know, Y/n, I'm not trying to rush anything. I've waited for you for so long. I can wait a little longer."
Y/n looked up, meeting his gaze. "I know, San. I appreciate that."
They finished their ramen in subdued silence, the atmosphere in the room heavy with unspoken emotions. Each bite seemed to carry with it a mix of longing and restraint, as if they were tiptoeing around the feelings that hung between them.
San set his bowl aside and glanced at Y/n, his voice soft but sincere. "Y/n, it's getting pretty late. Why don't you stay here tonight? We used to sleep together all the time when we were younger. It doesn't have to be awkward."
Y/n looked at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and relief. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose."
San smiled warmly, shaking his head. "You're not imposing. I'd actually feel better knowing you're here and safe. Plus, it's just like old times, right?"
Y/n's lips curved into a gentle smile as she nodded. "Yeah, just like old times."
San stood up and began to set up his room for the night. He found an extra pillow and blanket for Y/n, laying them out on his bed. "I'll take the floor. You can have the bed."
Y/n frowned and shook her head. "No way. We're both adults now, San. We can share the bed. It's big enough for both of us."
San hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded, trying to keep his composure. "Okay, if you're comfortable with that."
They both climbed into the bed, lying on their backs and staring at the ceiling. The initial awkwardness began to fade as they settled into the familiarity of their shared space.
San turned his head slightly to look at Y/n. "Remember when we used to have sleepovers and tell each other ghost stories until we fell asleep?"
Y/n chuckled softly, his eyes warm with nostalgia. "Yeah, and you always insisted on keeping the nightlight on afterwards."
San laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Well, I was scared! Your ghost stories were way too realistic."
Y/n chuckled softly, the tension easing between them. "I guess I did have a knack for storytelling."
As they lay side by side in the dim light of San's room, Y/n shifted slightly, turning to face away from him. "Hey, San, do you mind... um, cuddling me?"
San's heart skipped a beat at her request, but he tried to remain calm. "Sure, Y/n. No problem."
He moved closer to her, gently wrapping his arms around her waist. Y/n sighed softly, feeling a sense of warmth and security in his embrace.
For a while, they lay in silence, the only sound in the room being the soft rhythm of their breathing. The tension that had hovered between them earlier had dissolved, replaced by a quiet intimacy that felt both familiar and new.
After a couple of minutes, Y/n thought San might have fallen asleep behind her. She was starting to drift off herself when she felt a slight pressure against her back. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized what it was—San's arousal pressing against her.
Her heart raced, unsure of what to do or say. She didn't want to embarrass San, but the heat of his body against hers stirred something deep within her.
Y/n took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "San... are you awake?"
San hesitated for a moment before answering, his voice low and hesitant. "Yeah, I'm awake."
Y/n bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed. "I... I felt something."
San's arms tightened slightly around her, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
Y/n felt a pang of sympathy for San as she sensed his embarrassment. She gently placed her hand on his cheek, turning his face towards hers. "San, it's okay. I understand."
San forced a small smile, though his eyes still held a hint of shame. "I just... I told you I could wait, but..."
Y/n brushed her thumb lightly across his cheek, her touch gentle and reassuring. "San, it's natural. We both have feelings for each other. It's okay."
San's shoulders relaxed slightly at her words, his gaze meeting hers with gratitude. "Thank you, Y/n." 
They settled back into the pillows, finding a comfortable position in each other's arms. The tension that had momentarily clouded their evening melted away as they lay together in the quiet of San's room.
San brushed a strand of hair from Y/n's face, his touch gentle and affectionate. "Goodnight, Y/n."
"Goodnight, San," Y/n murmured softly, her eyes drifting closed.
They both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's warmth.
-
taglist: @dinossaurz @taz-97 @soso59love-blog
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margotw10bis · 1 year ago
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Blank Pages. JJK [m]
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bestfriend!jungkook x reader
Genre: one-shot; smut; romance; non-idol!jk; f2l
Words: 8k
Synopsis: You have a secret: you're a popular writer on Wattpad. The worst thing that could happen is your best friend Jungkook to discover that your erotic novels are about him...
Warning: protected sex; oral sex (f. receiving); writing of sex scenes
JK was pounding into me at an animalistic pace. I couldn't help screaming his name due to the overstimulation of the three precedent orgasms. His grip around my hips tightened as he was reaching his high. A few more dick strokes were provided before I could feel his hot shots of cum inside my pussy.
It didn't take long for the both of us to fall asleep, exhausted by the intense sex ride.
Your cheeks are red when you finish posting the new chapter of your story on your Wattpad account. Vivid images of the imaginary roll in the hay fill your brain — and your panties with wetness. You always feel the same after writing a sex scene starring your best friend: horny and guilty. You can't imagine how Jungkook would react if he knew he was the main character of a popular erotic online novel... You would die of embarrassment, knowing your best friend, whom you are madly in love with, had discovered your deepest sexual fantasies — featuring him. On the other hand, writing those filthy stories is your way to control both your feelings and your desires. Jungkook is your best friend, you can't risk your friendship.
You didn't have any thoughts other than trying to contain your sexual attraction for him when you created your Wattpad account. You had never thought that so many people would read your stories. You can't deny that you feel kind of proud that people love your writings but you also feel horrified that so many strangers are fantasying — and obviously masturbating — on your best friend. You are so glad that you kind of anonymized him by using his nickname JK. You mean, people could think it stands for Jin-Keon, right?
Just as if you needed some reminder that your writing is nothing but fiction, your phone screen brights up to notify a new message from the very same Jungkook.
'Hi, buddy! We're going to the club with the guys, wanna join?'
You hate so much when Jungkook calls you 'buddy'. It's so far away from the nicknames you wish he'd give you. In your stories, JK always uses 'baby', 'babe', sweetheart' and this is what you want... Not a stupid 'buddy' like you were his classmate in sixth grade!
You growl in frustration and answer that you're too tired and you're just going to bed. Your best friend replies that he is disappointed not to see you tonight and you hate how your weak stupid heart melts at that. You are also disappointed not to see him tonight or every single day of your life. You wish you could go home after work and know that Jungkook is waiting for you before heading to bed, together. You know damn well those are silly thoughts and maybe that's why they hurt so much. They are too far away from reality.
As you think.
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You hum, half-asleep as you feel something moving against you. You tighten your arms around the thing next to you to keep it still. However, it moves again to softly caress your hair.
"Y/N, let's go to bed" A whispered voice says
You lowly growl and bury your face deeper into the thing you're hugging. If you weren't in this sleepy state, you could notice that what you have in your arms is actually Jungkook. He doesn't really mind and it's not the first time your movie night ends up with you falling asleep. He'd just let you gradually collapse on him because he knows you always feel cold when you are sleeping. So he is happy to provide some warmth while you're visiting Morpheus' world. He even rested his arm around your shoulders to be a little more comfortable to watch the end of the movie — and enjoying this excuse to hug you.
But now, the film has ended and the couch is not the best place for a full night of slumber. Jungkook sighs when he accepts the fact that you just won't wake up. He tries, as gently as he can, to stand up and lifts you up in his arms. He pushes his bedroom door open with his foot, which causes him to almost loose balance. Finally, his mission is a success when he lands you on his bed without waking you. He smiles softly as he looks at you. He wonders what you are dreaming about right now. Are you having nightmares because of the horror movie? Or are you in a happy place full of your loved ones? He hopes for the latest.
He heads to the bathroom, brushes his teeth and joins you in bed. He knows you don't bother sleeping with him — it's not the first time either. And honestly, if he knew your feelings for him, he could be even more aware of how poorly you care. He makes sure the covers are tightly wrapped around you and scoots closer to hug you. He likes how your smaller body fits in his embrace — it's way better than his usual pillow. He gives you a small peck on the top of your hair and follows you in dreamland.
The sunlight coming through the unwell closed curtains wakes you up. You're surprised not to feel cold as usual in the morning. You want to lift your hand to rub your swollen eyes but you can't: something, or more like someone is completely wrapped around you. Your eyes snap open when you realize it's Jungkook. You turn your head and your heart melts at the sight: his sleepy face is so cute, especially with his pouty lips. You're close enough to clearly see his scar on the cheek as well as the little molds on his nose and under his lower lip. You wish you could taste its softness. You move carefully to free one arm and you caress your best friend's hair as softly as you can to not wake him up. You almost moan when you feel how silky it is underneath your fingertips. God, Jungkook is so perfect that it hurts to look at him.
Your heart beats fast in your chest due to the proximity but it suddenly stops when Jungkook, in his sleepless, presses you closer against his body. And then, you feel it. As clear as day. His morning wood. It stands hard against your lower belly and you gulp. Does your saliva drive straight to your pussy? Because your panties are now soaked. Oh god, Jungkook's cock is pressed against you and you love it. All kind of sinful scenarios take control of your brain and you wish your best friend was a sleepwalker but more like a sleepfucker. Okay, you are clearly deranged...
A normal person would try to bring some space between your two bodies but you do the opposite: you scoot closer, almost grinding on his boner.
Small sleepy growls from Jungkook make you stop moving as you really don't want your best friend to know how much of a sexual freak he is turning you into.
"Good morning, goober" Jungkook says with his sexy raspy voice before kissing your forehead
"Hi" You reply with cheeks as red as a tomato
Fuck, you still feel his dick but Jungkook doesn't seem in a rush of stepping away. Does he not feel it? Or maybe he does and he needs some friction because he fucking holds you tighter. You wish you could feel embarrassed but it's not the main emotion you experience: your horniness takes the most of you. If Jungkook doesn't release you soon, you could jump on him to ride him. Perhaps all the hot sex scenes you have written are messing up with your brain and you can't distance fantasy from reality.
(Un)fortunately, your best friend frees you to stretch. You try your best not to peak at the tent of the sheets caused by his hard-on. Jungkook leaves the bed and stands up in front of you, asking about breakfast with a very distant — according to you — voice. However, you can't focus on any words he is saying because the only thing that gets your attention is his — huge — bulge in his boxing shorts. He clearly doesn't wear any briefs and your mouth waters at the fact there is just one layer of fabric separating you from his cock — and also a whole moral code but you can't care about it right now. On the hand, it's not like Jungkook would stop you but you don't have any idea of it. A sparkle of playfulness brightens his doe eyes as he notices how you are gazing at his dick.
"Are you even listening to me?" Jungkook asks while snapping his fingers right in front of your face
"I-Jungkook, you..." You start but struggle to find the words that won't make you look like a sexual freak
"What?"
"You, uhm, seem to be awaken" You eventually decide to say
Jungkook looks at you with a faked questioning face and you point at this crotch. Rather than to be embarrassed, your best friend smirks proudly.
"Impressed, right?" He teases you and your cheeks take a new brighter tint of red
"Jungkook!" You scold him but you secretly are impressed by his obvious blessed area — way bigger than you have wrote
Your best friend just laughs with his childlike cheerful chuckle and announces that he'll cook some rice with sausages. You fall back on the bed, sighing in frustration. Jungkook is driving you crazy and you wish you could take off his wry smile by sitting on his pretty face. However, you decide it would be wiser to just sit on a chair and have breakfast with him.
"I could like to go to Songdo Beach today and go on a ride of the Busan AirCruise" You say at one point, your mouth full of food which makes barely impossible for Jungkook to understand you
"Why? You already did it a hundred of times"
"But it's raining today!" You pout "You know I love the atmosphere the rain gives to the skyline"
Your best friend does know it. You have told him countless of times how relaxing you find the sound of the rain on the glass cable car and the pale blue, almost lavender color, the Busan sky gets tinted on rainy days. Jungkook sighs to pretend it's a burden to go with you but you both know he likes it too.
As usual, the queue is not that long. Busan people tend to stay home or to take shelter in the numerous trendy coffees. What a shame people don't appreciate how nice it is to fly upon the near ocean while raindrops surround you. As usual, Jungkook buys the tickets for the two of you. You don't quite understand why he insists every time to pay but you can't deny it is heart-warming. Your best friend knows it's one of the things you love the most in life so he just wants you to enjoy it entirely.
A soft smile paints your lips as you step in the cable car. Slowly elevating you in the sky, you watch the nearby buildings growing away between the big and round drops of water. The sight is blurred yet so poetic. The glass floor allows you to take a peak at the waves and if you look at the ocean side, you can see some huge cargo boats, waiting in Busan bay to deliver their merchandise.
The calm atmosphere, enhanced by the melody of the rain on the glass, soothes you. However, Jungkook couldn't just let you be and he suddenly moves to make the cable car swing. You scream and scold him which only makes him laugh. As usual.
"Let's take a picture" Jungkook says while pulling off his phone from his oversized bomber jacket pocket
Then, he sits next to you and frames to crystalize both your two faces and the skyline in the background on the photo. You and your best friend smile brightly. If someone asks Jungkook right now, he could say that it's one of sunniest days ever because of how radiant you are.
"A last one" Jungkook announces
He clicks on the button to snap the picture at the exact moment he pecks your cheek. The photo clearly notifies how surprised you were, your eyes growing wider and your mouth slightly opened. However, your shy face mixed with your blushed cheeks make you really, really cute in Jungkook's opinion. He can only chuckle as he gazes at the picture with affection eyes. He will definitely make it his new wallpaper.
However, the small peck you have received from your best friend moves you more than it should. Your heart beats so loud in your chest that it seems to echoes down to your toes. You try to calm down and you resonate: it doesn't mean anything for your best friend. It's just a small friendly peck. Fuck, you write some erotic stories in which the characters fuck like beasts, you can't be all shaken up by a stupid kiss on the cheek!
You soothe your crazy heart by focusing on the view of the grey tinted skyline and on the few people defying the rain with their umbrellas. Deep down, you know it's the best memory you will have on the Busan cable car despite the numerous times you went on.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
"What do you think about this one?" Jungkook asks you a few days later while presenting another shirt in a dark blue color
You try hard to put a smile on your face to hide your painful chest. Does your best friend have any idea that helping him choosing an outfit for his date is torture for you? You could wince at the pain if you didn't have to act like normal.
"I think the white one is better" You answer nonetheless "You can't go wrong with it"
Jungkook nods and then finishes you completely: he casually takes off his t-shirt, flashing you with his so perfect buff chest. If it's true that you sometimes gripe when your best friend spends two hours at the gym, you are so thankful of it now. You practically drool when your eyes run through his flexing biceps — the right one delicately wrapped with ink —, his well-defined pecs and his fucking hot abs. You almost faint when your glance ends up its route on his very low pants, making his V-line and the hem of his black underwear visible. His skin seems so soft, your fingertips tickle at the thought of touching it. Fuck, this is better than anything you have ever written. You gulp when you think about all the nasty things you could like to do with Jungkook's torso.
"So, what do you think?"
Jungkook's question snaps you out of your fantasies but you have absolutely no idea of what he is talking about. Suddenly, the thread escaping from your jeans is very much interesting and you just pray that Jungkook hasn't noticed how you were eying him.
"About what?" You timidly ask
"Gogi Yummy, the restaurant I'm taking her to. Do you think it's a good idea?"
Your heart squeezes painfully when you think about Jungkook having a perfect date, doing everything you could like him to do, with someone else. You wish you could be a good best friend and be happy for him but the truth is that you love him too much not to feel hurt when he is going on a date.
"I think it's great" You reply as cheerful as you can be but still not looking to him in an attempt to hide the hurt in your eyes
"What about you?" Your best friend suddenly asks
"What about me?" You repeat his words with confusion, brows furrowed
"When are you going on a date?" He clarifies
You sigh while notifying him that you don't have time to look for a date. The real reason is obviously your feelings for Jungkook, you don't want anyone else but him.
"You know Jimin, right? The last time I saw him, he told me you were cute. Maybe you should give him a chance" Jungkook tells you with an encouraging tone but you only wince, which makes him sigh "Look, if my date goes well, we'll do something together, the four of us. This way, you won't feel pressured. How does it sound?"
Awful. But there is no way you'd confess that, especially when Jungkook is looking at you with his sparkling doe eyes and his so cute bunny smile. So you tell him that it's a great idea and you hope, even more than before, that his date is a disaster so you don't have to go on a double-date during which you won't be the partner of the person you love.
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JK was drawing delicious patterns on my clit with his tongue. I couldn't help tugging on his raven hair, not really knowing if it was to stop him or to urge him to do it harder. My breathe was cut when I felt a long and thick finger sliding into me, automatically making my walls clench around it.
"I'm close"I told JK, which provoked a proud smirk on his face
His only mission on Earth seemed to be providing me great orgasms — and he'd never failed.
"Come on, baby. Make me taste your yummy juices" He teased me, sending me on the edge
He stood up and took off this t-shirt so I could admire his delicate yet strong torso, the definition of perfection. His muscles were making me feel all kinds of butterflies in my stomach — or was it the remains of the orgasm? — and JK knew it well. He knew he was teasing me, and the way he was flexing his muscles proved me right. My mouth watered and my hand caressed the bulge of his six-pack. His tattoos always had an effect on me, making him as intriguing as sexy. A sin I wouldn't care to go to Hell for.
I wished I had time to enjoy it more but I had to go to work — JK's cunnilingus made me late as it made me come.
You save the last chapter and publish it on Wattpad. You stroll through the comments and smile when you read some very supportive ones. Almost every readers are in love with JK — only of they knew that real life Jungkook is one hundred times better. You sigh in content and close your laptop, ready to head to bed but your phone rings, stopping your plans of having a good and relaxing sleep.
'My date went great. Save your Friday night buddy cause we have a date ;)'
Why does your best friend have absolutely no clue of the draggers he is stabbing into your heart? To be fair, he went on this date because he thinks he doesn't stand a chance with you but you obviously don't know that. You growl and turn in your bed, tugging your sheets around you like if you were a burrito. Yes, going on a date with Jungkook is one of your dreams but going on a double-date with Jungkook having another date than you is a nightmare. You spend the night ramming through all the possible ways the date can go, which leads you to cry when scenarios of your best friend kissing a girl in front of you play in your mind.
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You growl while taking your clothes out of the washing machine. You don't what went wrong but it seems like every single pieces of clothing has sized down. Well, you could guess what went wrong: you were deep in thought and clicked on the wrong washing program. You sigh when you see your favorite dress... A slight and ridiculous hope that maybe it's not too bad makes you try it on, which takes you way more efforts than usual. But it only confirms what you thought: the red dress is now so tight that it looks like a second skin. The bottom hem barely covers your underwear and shows some of your ass in the back. And let's not talk about the neckline because it's worse: half of your bra is on display.
Of course, fate is never on your side — because it has been such a nice day so far. You hear your front door opening and it only means one thing: Jungkook is here. He is the only one to have a spare key — which was supposed to be for emergency but turned out to be a way to visit you without warning every time he is in the mood to. You start to panic but you don't have time to cover yourself as your best friend's pretty face appears. You feel embarrassed to show so much skin to Jungkook, even though you often fantasize about him seeing way much more. Shock — and some other expression that you could interpret as lust — paints his features. His eyes run through your very exposed body and your cheeks match the color of your 'dress'.
"Are you going to wear that?" Jungkook asks with a as natural as possible tone while he places his hands in front of his crotch to prevent you from noticing his growing boner
"Are you crazy?!" You defend yourself "I fucked up my laundry, that's all. I have no other choice than to throw away my favorite dress" You sigh in despair
On the other side, Jungkook likes the new style of the dress. It's now his favorite. Fuck, you're hot. You look so naughty. And it's even better when you turn around and some of your asscheeks are visible. He wonders how they would jiggle if he'd spanked you. He knows he shouldn't have this kind of thoughts about you but he can't help it. Your body is so fucking perfect. The peak he had of your big rounded tits, covered by your bra which led appear the shadow of your picky nipple, and the almost peak he had of your panties drive him mad. He does't think you should throw the dress away. You should keep it. For him. For when he fucks you.
Jungkook tries to get rid off those thoughts but his hard-on makes it difficult. When you send him off to change, he gladly accepts and opens your fridge, pretending he is looking for some soda, to let the cold soften his cock. You'll be the death of him.
"What are you doing here?" You asks, making your best friend jolt
Jungkook grabs a random can and turns around to discover you are now wearing your usual light green sweatpants and an oversized t-shit — former his, if he might add. You are really messing with his brain because earlier, with your tiny dress, he could pretend that his attraction was just a normal one of a guy seeing a sexily clothed girl. But now, even with a not so appealing outfit, he still thinks you're beautiful and hot.
You lift one brow when your best friend doesn't answer. Jungkook clears his throat and tries to gather his thoughts. He needs to focus on something other than you, otherwise he risks to cancel all his plans to fuck you against your washing machine.
"I wanted to ask you if you wanted to grab some food at PadThailand. It's been a while and I know you like it"
Your heart melts at the fact that Jungkook thought about you before ordering from one of your favorite restaurants. Your smile seems to illuminate the place, so much that your best friend wishes he had sunglasses. You nod with enthusiasm, spurring Jungkook to call the restaurant and book a table.
You've changed, for the third time of the day, into a simple jeans and long sleeves sailor top. You feel proud to match the area of PadThailand, the restaurant being close to one of the small ports of Busan. Delicious scents of fresh cooked fish fill the air, putting you in the mood of eating. You could even change your usual order and try the lemongrass cod fish. You giggle with eagerness, you can't wait to have your stomach full of delicious food.
"You look like you're in a good mood" Jungkook notices, a few meters from the restaurant location
"Of course!" You reply, cheerful "I'm going to one of my favorite restaurants and I'm with my favorite person"
You don't realize how your words made Jungkook stop his track. You continue your way to the door while Jungkook is trying his best to hide his wide bunny grin.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Friday night. The day of your 'date'.
You did make an effort on your outfit, opting for a cute black denim skirt and silver top. Actually, you were quite surprise when you stepped into the restaurant and discovered that your clothes matched Jungkook's. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought that people around you would mistake you two as a couple. However, the euphoria left soon as your eyes landed on your best friend's date: a gorgeous girl named Minji. It took you everything you have to smile at her and lie while saying 'nice to meet you'.
Thankfully, the awkward silence that was getting set at your table disappears with Jimin's arrival. You can't deny that the brown haired man is handsome. Honestly, if you weren't so head over heels for Jungkook, you could kill to kiss Jimin's pulp lips. You also like the white light cotton t-shirt with longs sleeves Jimin chose to wear: the thin fabric gives a peak of his dark inked patterns. Do you have a tattoo kink? Well, it's definitely Jungkook's fault.
After ordering some drinks and food, you are starting to think that the night is not a complete torture — despite the occasional kisses between Jungkook and Minji. The girl is actually very nice and tries her best to find common tastes between the two of you. It honestly would be way easier if she were a bitch... You can't even hate her!
Jimin, on the other hand, is funny and shares a lot of stories of his last holidays which were a rollercoaster of unpleasant events. You don't have to force yourself to laugh and genuinely find his company pleasant. Yet, you can't imagine having feelings for someone other than Jungkook. You love him like you've never loved before. He swipes away every competition without even trying. He is more handsome, funnier, nicer than anyone else. He knows you more than anyone and he knows how to help you before you can even say you need him. It's like he can read in your mind, what a shame he can't see in your heart that it's full of him...
However, Jungkook begins to regret having set a date for you. Yes, he is Minji's date but it's just an attempt to stop thinking of you. Actually, he thought that if you were with Jimin, it would help him putting an end at his stupid crush. But the dragger in his heart when you smile at Jimin is a clear reminder that it's not just a silly crush... Jimin is having everything Jungkook wants to have with you. He wants to take you at the restaurant, as a date, just the two of you. He genuinely had more fun at PadThailand with you the other day — when he could pretend it was a real date, even if it was just in his head — than now with Minji. But he thinks you'll refuse if he asks you out, you have never acted like Jungkook could be something other than your best friend.
"Hey, Y/N" Minji starts with a cheerfulness that you can imagine innate in her "You said you love reading. You should follow this Wattpad account"
She hands you her phone and you stop breathing when your very username appears on the screen. Your whole body freezes and your blood is redirected in your legs to run away.
"The author is so good! Her writing is amazing" Minji continues
The compliments would please you in other circumstances but right now, it's the worst thing ever.
"And fun fact, the character of JK makes me think of you" She adds as a killer shot for you when she turns to address Jungkook
You feel so ashamed that you just keep your head down, the phone giving you a great excuse for it. You wish you could just curl up and die. Oh my god, what if Jungkook reads it? What if he knows it's about him? He will definitely know JK is supposed to be him! And he will fucking know how you dream about him fucking you in all kind of lustful fantasies! He'll think you're sick and deranged, there is no other way. He'll think you are obsessed with him and will cut all ties with you. Your throat is so tight that you can't even breath properly. You need to escape, far and fast.
You wait ten minutes not to sound suspicious and then fake an emergency, lying that you have received a text from one of your friends. Jimin, so kind by nature, offers you to drop you off but you refuse, even though you do appreciate the gesture. You basically run away and yell a taxi to head home as fast as possible.
Panic takes control of your body, making you shake and breath heavily. You walk back and forth in your bedroom as you wonder how you are going to get rid off this troubled situation. You definitely can't delete your Wattpad account now, it'd look way too suspicious. The only thing that soothe you is that Jungkook doesn't like reading so he won't look at your — erotic — stories. Right?
Why did you have to write those? You are so stupid, fantasizing on your best friend and making the whole world know! You should have kept your sexual dreams in your bed, rather than crystalizing them on white pages.
Your hands cover your burning cheeks before going to the bathroom and splashing some cold water on your face as a ridiculous attempt to wake up from this nightmare.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Two weeks have passed since the double-date. Jungkook and you have hanged out like nothing happened — actually for Jungkook nothing happened. However, even though you really wanted to hide from him out of embarrassment, you couldn't without presenting yourself as the culprit of these stories. Your best friend was his usual self and he didn't even talk about your Wattpad account, which slowly relieved you. Like you said, Jungkook doesn't like reading, he won't do it so you can live your life without thinking about it anymore. You did stop writing though and you felt sad when you've read comments of people missing you and waiting for the next chapter.
What you don't know is that Minji has insisted so much, arguing that the main male lead of your story was just like Jungkook, that your best friend took on himself to browse through your Wattpad account. And he read everything. At first, he was quite amused at the resemblance: more than the JK name, the fictional character has black hair and tattoos just like him. The sex scenes were intense but still a little too soft for Jungkook who likes it real rough — but it's not like you can know it. But then, Jungkook grew suspicious, some scenes being very familiar to him. Like the one of the two main characters going to the beach but can't to swim because they forgot their swimsuits. Or the one when they were cooking together and JK seasoned the meal the narrator took hours to cook with sugar instead of salt. Another example was an argument between the two characters over the film they should watch at the theatre. Jungkook clearly remembered a very similar scene with you that ended up just like the book: him buying his own ticket for Fast&Furious and you throwing your popcorn on him.
A — absolutely ridiculous and impossible — thought came to his mind: were you the author? That couldn't be. You were his best friend, and you've never seemed to be interested in him — despite his endeavours he might add. But then, how could the scenes in this book be so much like the ones you two'd shared? And then, a crazier thought lighted up in his brain: are all the sex scenes you have written one of your desires? Would you like him to fuck you, to finger you, to lick you? Thinking about your pretty face torn by pleasure made him hard in his pants. He went though the hot scenes for a second time, trying to acknowledge what you like. As insane as it might seem, if Jungkook has the chance to, he'll fuck you and he wants to be prepared. Well, that's if you are indeed the author of the book. Which is such a foolish idea that he can't allow himself to grow too excited because the odds are not in Jungkook's favors.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
You are heading to Jungkook's place after receiving a text from him. He asked you if you wanted to watch a movie and you accepted. However, when you enter his apartment — you also have a spare key of your best friend's door —, the usual bowl of popcorn is no where to be seen. Jungkook has a ravishing look with his grey sweatpants and black oversized t-shirt. It's just his common look but it's so good on him.
"Hi" You greet him with a hug "You don't have any popcorn?"
"No, but maybe I have some underbaked cookies that we could eat with ice cream" He replies
You just freeze. Those underbaked cookies with ice cream are something you've written in your story. Did Jungkook read it? It's a catastrophe. You have to act like it's nothing, like you don't know what he means but god, you're such a shitty actress and your best friend knows you better than anyone else.
"Why would I want underbaked cookies?" You ask but your tone is so unsure that it only betrays you
"I don't know" Jungkook starts "Maybe because I'll get to eat you out to be fully satisfied"
Oh god. He. Did. Read. Everything. You wish the ground opened underneath your feet to swallow you whole. You throat is too dry to reply anything and your burning cheeks are screaming 'I'm the author! I'm guilty your Honor!'. You want to run away but you can't, your body refuses to move and you just keep looking down. You are so ashamed that your eyes get watery. Jungkook must hate you to have sexualized him like you did. Worse, you published this sexualized version of your best friend on the Internet and thousand of people have read it.
"Why did you write those stories?" Jungkook asks you
His tone is not harsh but not sweet either. It's just a little softer than neutral and it hurts in your heart.
"I don't know" You whisper with a shaky voice
"Don't lie to me, Y/N" Jungkook cups your face with his hands to force you to look into his so beautiful doe eyes "Tell me, I'm just trying to understand"
You are destabilized not to see any anger or disgust on your best friend's face. You thought he could be furious but he is not. He really seems curious to know. But that would mean you'd have to confess your feelings and you're not ready to hurt.
"It's just things that came to my mind" You half-lie
"So it doesn't mean anything?"
Your mouth opens in surprise at your best friend's question. Or more precisely at his tone. It's like he is hoping for it to mean something. You're taken aback. It's really not the reaction you expected. You remove his hand from your face so you can try to think again. You're lost in all the overwhelming emotions you're experiencing.
"I-" You start but nothing follows
You don't know what to say. Especially when Jungkook is looking at you with such an intense yet loving eye. Like he wants you. All of you. Your mind, your heart and your body. And you'll be happy to give them to him actually.
"Do you love me, Y/N?"
Once again, your eyes widen. You shouldn't be this surprised, it is just a logical question to ask after your interaction. You want to tell him but you're scared. Jungkook is perfect. He is the most handsome man but it's nothing compared to his personality. He is sweet and caring. He is hard-working and never gives up. He is supportive and always willing to help his friends. He is so perfect. Too perfect for you. You have nothing to offer him, he could find someone better just by snapping his fingers. But your best friend stops all those negative and destroying thoughts when he speaks again.
"You don't have to tell me" Jungkook says with a deep voice you've never heard before "I won't either. But I will show you"
With those last, enigmatic words, he cups your face with his tattooed hand. A immediate feeling of warmth rises upon the area he is touching. His thumb caresses your cheek, so delicately that you could think Jungkook is afraid to break you, but it soon drifts away to land on your bottom lip. The thinner and pinkish skin is soft underneath the pad of his finger and he can't wait any longer: he needs to feel the softness with his own mouth.
He kisses you and god, what a perfect kiss. The best one ever. His pulp lips feel like silk. The pressure is the right one: deep enough to draw butterflies in your stomach but not too much to completely overpower you. Jungkook wants to give you the opportunity to stop the kiss if you want to. But you surely don't want to. Quite the opposite: you want more.
Your hands go up to hide in his black hair to keep him close. It's the sign Jungkook waited to deepen the kiss. His hands are now on your back, pressing you closer against his strong body. Everything is just right. You seem to know each other's body like your own. Jungkook said he was going to show you he loved you and he does. The kiss is passionate but so loving at the same time. You have the feeling to fall in love with him all over again.
Without breaking the kiss, he leads you to his bedroom, which is easy since you know well his apartment. Jungkook takes off your shirt and he looks at your breasts long enough for you to grow embarrassed. But then he whispers to himself 'so perfect' and you don't feel unsure anymore. The way Jungkook looks at you makes you feel like the most beautiful woman alive. To be fair, you are for him.
Jungkook cups your tits still covered by your bra and leans down to hide his face in the valley of your boobs. God, he loves them so much. You moan when he starts to kiss the available skin. But it's not enough, for any of you. Your hand sneaks behind your back to undo your bra and finally free your breasts. Jungkook doesn't waste time and grabs one boob before squeezing it in his large and warm palm. His mouth works on your other nipple, licking, sucking and even deliciously biting it.
He invites you to lean on his bed and you're happy to do it. Jungkook grabs the hem of your pants and slides them down with your panties. Your pussy is already glistening with arousal and it's driving him crazy. He can't even control himself when he step closer to eat you out. His tongue is fast and precise on your clit and you can't help the moans from escaping your lips. Your head is thrown back and your fists are clenched around the sheets. Your cunt is soaked by your horniness and Jungkook's saliva, creating a real mess between your legs.
"More" You groan
Jungkook smirks while he enters your tight pussy with two fingers. The stretch is so fucking good that you whimper. His pace doesn't show any mercy but you fucking love it. Maybe it's Jungkook's skills or maybe it's your strong feelings for him but your orgasm is close. Your legs start shaking and you rest them on your best friend's shoulders.
"Your pussy is so good" He says against your wet clit "You've dreamt about that, uh? You little minx"
Your head is spinning because of your horniness. You feel like drowning into pleasure and Jungkook's expert fingers hitting your g-sport repeatedly are pushing you over the edge. Your back arches and your toes curl while you're trying to control your orgasm. It's too good, you don't want Jungkook to stop just now. But then, he talks again:
"I've read how you wanted me to eat your pretty pussy. You're a little slut for me, isn't that right?"
His dirty mouth — both words and acts — makes you cum on his face and fingers. Jungkook's digits are squeezed tightly by your walls and he pushes your limits by pushing on your sweet spot harder. It cuts your breathe and you feel your orgasm lasting and lasting until you can't take the overstimulation anymore. Your legs try to close but they are stopped by Jungkook's head and your hands tug on his hair.
"I'll fuck you good"
Jungkook's promise lights up your body once again. You settle down from your high just in time to watch his strip show. His pecs and abs are so perfect. You wish you could lick them but your body is still in the fog of your orgasm so you just can lift your hand to caress him like you've dreamt of so many time. His skin is warm and soft but his muscles are hard right under. Jungkook closes his eyes to enjoy your touch. He's imagined it many times before you and your delicate fingers on him are delightful. His hard cock twitches in his pants when your hand reaches the hem of his sweatpants. The bulge is clearly visible and your mouth waters.
You push the pieces of fabric down to free is big cock. Oh god, it's bigger than you thought. Some pre-cum is leaking from his tip and you use it to jerk him off. Jungkook growls out of delight and your hand works fast on his length. The sight of your small hand around his cock is fucking hot but Jungkook wants to fuck you. You two will have a lot of time in the future to experience other things.
"I want to fuck you" Jungkook says but it's also a consent question
As much as he wants to, he won't if you tell him no.
"I want it too, Kook"
Your best friend walks to his nightstand after getting off of his pants and underwear. He grabs a condom that he quickly puts on and joins you on the bed. You're gorgeous, all naked, in his bed. Lust is written on your face and he still can't believe you're looking at him. He wants to worship you and he will, but right now, he will fuck you like there is no tomorrow.
You open your legs wider for Jungkook to take place between them. He grabs his hard cock and slides the tip up and down on your folds. Your back arches.
"Please, Kook, I want you" Your whipped voice is driving him crazy
He enters slowly, not wishing to hurt you. The way his dick is stretching you out is insane. Jungkook is big but it's fucking good. He fills you so well. When he sees you relaxing, he starts to move back and forth. Your soaked pussy helps him to enter you without any difficulty. His hands cup your face to kiss you. Your moans are swallowed by Jungkook's mouth and your hands grabs his wrists when he pounds you at a faster pace. Soon, your tits are bouncing with rhythm and your groans get louder.
The grab on your jaws tightens and Jungkook rests his forehead on yours. He fucks you passionately. You wrap your legs around his waist to deepen the poundings. The slight change of angle places his dick directly to your g-spot.
"Here!" You scream and clench around him
"Your pussy is so tight but you still want to be fucked rough" Jungkook smirks "You told everyone but me. I'm so disappointed, baby"
His dick strokes are harsher and deeper, kicking the air of your lungs every time. The sound your clapping skins create is loud and sinful. You're close again and Jungkook can feel it.
"You're sure you don't want to tell me that you love me?" He asks with heavy breathe "Because I'll fuck you better if you do"
It's enough for you. Your walls are squeezing him impossibly tight. Jungkook almost winces but the fucked expression on your face is so worth it.
"I love you, Kook!" You scream when you cum hard on his cock, your vison blurred by the tears of pleasure and love filing your eyes
The euphoric state provoked by your orgasm and your feelings make you loose your mind. You kiss him but a salty taste mixes in your kiss. When Jungkook wipes the corners of your eyes, you realize you're crying. You don't even know why.
"I love you too" Jungkook whispers
A few more hard poundings are provided and Jungkook cums in the condom. You're both panting and Jungkook is almost crushing you but you don't care. His face is hidden in the crook of your neck, kissing your skin tenderly. You hug him tightly when you finally realize that your best friend loves you too.
Your cry shakes your body and Jungkook lifts up his head and his heart squeezes when he sees you.
"Hey, don't cry, baby"
He kisses every single inch of your face: your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead and even your eyes to make your tears disappear.
Jungkook pulls out of you and takes off his condom. He quickly comes back to hug you tight. You truly appreciate how gentle he is. He has always been but now, with the love in his eyes, it's even better. Your whole body feels full of love. You know it's the right moment to share all the things you've kept to yourself for years.
"My head and my heart are full of you" You say "I'm drowning in the ocean of the love I feel for you. I love so much that it hurts, Kook"
"Your words feel so good" Jungkook replies with watery eyes, gently patting your hair "I can't describe as good as you my feelings but one thing I can say is that I love you. I love you, Y/N, and I'll never be tired of telling you or showing you how much I do"
You cry like a baby, undoubtedly the result of your post-sex tiredness and the tsunami of emotions Jungkook's confession provokes. It's the first time tears provoked by your best friend are welcomed.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
"So, what's next?" Jungkook asks the next day during breakfast
Just as the last time you've spent the night at his place, he woke up with a morning wood. Except that, this time, you made love. It was different from yesterday but as good. Maybe even better because you weren't in the over-everything that your love confessions provoked. You took your time, you kissed and kissed again while caressing and feeling each other.
"Maybe I'll need some inspiration for the next date scenes" You tease him
Jungkook giggles while scrunching his cute nose. He knows you so well and yet, this part of you, your writer part, was completely unknown until a few days ago. He also knows that your book is just an excuse to take you on a date. Honestly, he doesn't have to make any excuse to ask you on a date. He wants to do it. He has been wanting for years and now, you're his girlfriend.
"You're sure you don't need inspiration for your sex scenes?" He asks playfully
You smile and scoot closer to wrap your arms around his neck.
"I could use some help" You whisper before kissing him 
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once-in-a-blood-moon · 6 months ago
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It's All About Intention
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Solomon x GN! reader
Summary: You ask Solomon's opinion on what color you should paint your nails, and learn something new along the way.
AN: This is dedicated to @nnnneeev for being such sweet friend to me. Love you!! 💜 Anyways, hope everyone enjoys! Mwah!
Warnings: None
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The soft pads of socked feet march through Cocytus Hall in search of something – or someone. The ever perceptive sorcerer who lounges in the common room grins to himself, lazily licking the tip of his finger to help turn the page of the tome he’s reading. He knows you too well, and by the sound of your footsteps, you’ve got something on your mind.
“Hey, Solomon,” you say as you pass through the threshold, “I need your opinion on something.”
Just as he thought.
He marks his page before closing the book, focusing his attention on you as approach with a little box in your hands. He recognizes it as he’s seen that box in your room, yet the contents within are eluding him.
“I’d be happy to assist you in any way I can,” he says with a genuine smile. “What’s on your mind, my dear?”
You sit next to him on the couch with the box in your lap. With a soft sigh, you begin to explain your dilemma. “I can’t decide on what color to paint my nails...”
You peel the flap of the box back, opening it, as Solomon leans over and peeks inside to see many different bottles of nail polish in the ultimate ROYGBIV categorization. A soft whistle blows past his lips; he’s impressed by how pleasing it is to look at. He knew you painted your nails often, but it dawns on him just how many bottles you own. You’re like him with books, except for you, it’s nail polish.
“I’ve never realized you had quite the collection. I think you might give Asmo a run for his money.” he says with a chuckle.
Your eyebrows raise, obviously not believing that statement. With a quick shake of your head and a chuckle, you reply. “Oh, no. I don’t think anyone could beat him with his many shelves of high-end nail polish.”
Solomon hums. “You’re right,” he strokes his chin in thought, “you’re about two hundred bottles off.”
That earns him a light smack on the arm as you both laugh.
“Shut up.”
“If I shut up then I can’t give you my opinion, sweet apprentice of mine.” He’s got that shit-eating grin again, never missing an opportunity to tease you. It’s his favorite past-time.
You huff out in faux annoyance, even going so far as to roll your eyes. You’re lucky he finds you so cute when you do that, he thinks. Otherwise, he might’ve been offended.
“Fine, fine. Just tell me what you think.” You scoot the box further down, now resting it on your knee so he’s drawn to its focus once more.
Solomon’s eyes flick over each color with intensity. He’s really giving this some thought. “Well, is there anything you want to come out of this?”
Silence settles between you, and for a second he thinks you didn’t hear him. That is, until he glances up to see you with the most dumbfounded expression as you stare right back at him.
“Uh, yeah? My nails to be painted?”
It seems he wasn’t clear with his wording. Though he does get a hearty laugh out of your response. “No, no. That’s not what I meant. I mean...do you have something you want to manifest?”
Your expression stays the same, the only change is a few hard and confused blinks. “What does this have to do with painting my nails?”
“Well, everything really. Painting your nails using a certain color can attract that which you seek. I’ve taught you that using different colored candles in spells can aid in what you bring in, right? So, the same thing applies here.”
Solomon can see the wheels turning in your head now. He thinks this is a good lesson to be taught – that magic requires innovation and that magic is in everything.
“Really?” you ask.
“Really. So, if you wanted to strengthen your intuition, you might use a shade of blue. If you wanted to boost your creativity, you could use yellow,” he pauses before a grin curls on his lips again, “and you could use pink to attract love.” His eyebrows wiggle in a suggestive way, making you laugh a little.
“Okay, okay. I think I get it. Though I didn’t realize that I could incorporate magic into painting my nails.” He watches you look over your precious box with a certain glint in your eyes. He loves that look, that giddy sparkle when you learn something new. You’re too precious for your own good.
“My adorable apprentice, magic is in everything. All you have to do is show up with intention.”
“Intention,” you nod as you remember him saying that during one of your first lessons. “It’s all about intention, yes, I remember.”
Solomon chuckles. “Good.” He digs into the box, pulling out a little bottle filled with a deep indigo. “How about painting them indigo...to remind yourself you are capable of anything you put your mind to, especially within the realm of magic. You are more than capable of becoming a wonderful sorcerer someday.”
To your surprise, he leans over and places a soft kiss on your cheek before adding, “I am so proud of you.”
His eyes soften as he watches your cheeks heat up with one word coming to mind; precious.
“So, is there any chance I could get you to paint my nails while you’re at it?”
You clear your throat as you try to choke the fluster down. “Sure, but it’ll cost you.” you grin as you tease him back.
“You’ve been spending way too much time with Mammon, he’s rubbing off on you in the worst way.” Solomon rolls his eyes, chuckling again.
“I’m kidding!” you snicker. “Anyways, what color were you thinking for yourself?”
He pretends to think as he eyes a certain color in the box. “Hm, how about pink? I have something I want more of…” he wiggles his brows again, smirking widely, “your love.”
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