#third message was - just fucking WAIT FOR IT - 'what do u think about what's going on in the US recently? are you planning on going back?'

[possessionguy]

Fatso's Ghostly Escapade!

It has been a while since Fatso the big blue ghost has enjoyed himself with a delicious hunky fleshie to inhabit, and he has been itching to get back out there and have the time of his afterlife.

Usually, Fatso possesses a fleshie alongside his two brothers, Stinky and Stretch, however, this time Fatso went on his own outing so he could have some more privacy in whatever activities he had planned.

Fatso decided to fly out to the busy street of Hollywood Boulevard in Los Angeles, a place that is packed with fleshies all eager to see the sights of the city of angels and stars.

Fatso flies over the herds of fleshies invisible to not cause a scene, the big guy is looking for a certain kind of fleshie, a fleshie who is beefy, hunky, and would make any man stare.”Let’s see what I get today. This time I do NOT want the fat guy!” Fatso intends to take over the sexiest fleshie he can find so that he can become the talk of the town.

Fatso keeps on his search when he sees something that almost makes him reveal himself out of excitement, Fatso sees his next victim. The man is tall, dark, and handsome with bulging muscles and a face that can get anything he wants.

Fatso’s eyes pop out of his head as he ogles the fleshie up and down.”Ooh! Look what we have here… the man of my dreams! Hubba Hubba!” The man walks across the street wearing all gray and black with a leather jacket as he seems to be in a rush. The fleshie jumps into a cab as Fatso decides to join in on the ride.

Fatso sits next to his soon-to-be body in the backseat of the car as his fleshie gets comfortable and opens up his phone. Fatso thinks to himself, “Now why were you in a rush, you sexy slab of meat…”

Fatso peaks at the man’s phone as he opens up an app that is quite familiar with Fatso, the yellow app known as Grindr. Fatso scoffs, “Hahaha now THIS is what I am talking about! Fleshie you are PERFECT! I cannot wait to get my hands on you big guy!” Fatso is getting hornier and hornier as he thinks about squeezing inside this hunk of a man.

Fatso wants to see what his fleshie has in mind as he sees the fleshie messaging someone. The messages read; “Hey r u on ur way Brandon?” “Yup just got in the cab, can't wait till you see you” “Can't wait I'm waiting in bed”.

Fatso sees these messages, “Ohh I see fleshie… ‘Brandon’ is on his way to a hookup, well I hope there is room for a THIRD! Bahahaha” Fatso laughs to himself as the car shakes slightly from his large vibrating form.

Brandon gets to his destination as Fatso trails him, Brandon enters the apartment complex and gets rings to get inside. As Brandon walks in he seems to have to use the restroom so he runs over to the bathroom to relieve himself before he makes his way to his hookup’s room. “It's time to get this show on the road fleshie! Haha!” Fatso knows it's time to take over his fleshie as he prepares to take possession of Brandon. 

Brandon gets into the bathroom and quickly takes a piss as he lets out a sigh and zips up, before he leaves the bathroom he makes sure he looks in the mirror. Brandon is checking himself out when he hears some noises coming from a closed stall. “What was that?” Brandon questions as he turns his head to a stall he knows was left open when he first walked in. The stall looks like it's shaking and rumbling causing Brandon to want to take a closer look. “Is someone there?” Brandon walks up to the stall and opens the door to see no one. “What the heck is going on?” All Brandon sees is an empty stall as he notices the toilet is vibrating, Brandon steps forward until he is standing above the toilet looking down into the bowl.

“Hey fleshie… turn around…”

Brandon whips his head up and quickly turns around with a confused look on his face as he sees a large pudgy ghost with piercing orange eyes looking directly at him almost completely blocking the stall door.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! What are you?!” Brandon shrieks

Fatso laughs and grins, “The name’s Fatso, and you caught my eye you sexy fleshie!” Brandon tries to run out of the stall but Fatso bounces Brandon back like a giant balloon which causes Brandon to stumble onto the toilet behind him.

“Oh Fleshie, why leave so soon, it's only the beginning of our fun escapade together, or should I say… MY fun escapade INSIDE you!” Fatso starts to move closer to Brandon.

Brandon looks up at Fatso while he scoots back as much as he can, “What do you want from me?! This can't be happening!” Brandon looks terrified as Fatso gets up close and personal with him, rubbing his ghostly belly against his knees as the chubby ghost gets eye-level with his prey. Fatso looks Brandon in the eyes, “Hehe Possession is 9/10s the law and you are ALL MINE!” Fatso charges back as Brandon goes wide-eyed. “NOW OPEN UP FOR FATSO!” Fatso flings forward towards Brandon as Fatso slams into Brandon’s crotch looking for his way in.

Brandon tries to get up but the immense force of Fatso keeps Brandon stuck on the toilet seat. Fatso phases through Brandon’s jeans and finds Brandon’s flaccid rod, “Ooooh! Why hello there big guy! Hehe, don't mind if I do!” Fatso begins to press against Brandon’s rod as his head slurps in. Brandon moans and chills from the sudden cold and rubbery feeling of Fatso entering into him. Brandon immediately freaks out and pulls down his pants to see Fatso slurping inside him, “AHHH GET OUT!” Fatso continues to laugh as he slowly sinks into Brandon’s rod which causes Brandon to go hard and feels Fatso enter into his stomach. 

Brandon watches in horror as Fatso’s bulbous stomach slams into him, Brandon begins to push against against Fatso with his hands, “Get off of me!” Fatso starts to come back out of Brandon as Fatso groans slowly, “Awww come on Fleshie, let me in, I promise I will take great care of you!”

Fatso pops out of Brandon’s crotch as Fatso has a scolding look on his face, “You think are can keep me out fleshie, I’ll show you what it means to be taken over!” Brandon quickly gets up and makes a run out of the bathroom as Fatso flies forward and bodyslams into Brandon’s back causing Brandon to hit his head against the door and fall backward on his back. Brandon is in a daze as he opens his eyes and sees Fatso above him.

Fatso grins, “Thanks for making this easier for me fleshie, now open wide 'cause I’M COMING THROUGH!!!” Fatso dives down into Brandon’s mouth and he slams all his ghostly weight onto Brandon as his head and arms immediately go down into Brandon’s throat, “Now this is what I am TALKING ABOUT! Hahaha!”

Brandon cannot speak a word as he feels Fatso wiggle down his throat and feels Fatso begin to once again fill up his stomach. Fatso continues to flow into Brandon as his belly wiggles and squeezes slowly getting more and more of his ectoplasm down into his victim’s muscular body.

“GET READY FOR FATSO! BAHAHAHA!” Fatso laughs as Brandon groans in discomfort as he feels more and more of Fatso squeeze and rub against his insides. Fatso continues to squeeze and wiggle for a while until what is left is Fatso’s tail, “There we GO!” Fatso’s tail slurps into Brandon’s mouth and wiggles down his through with a popping sound.

Brandon’s eyes go wide as he immediately gets up off the floor now feeling extremely heavy and full since he is now carrying all of Fatso inside him. Brandon groans, “Ughhh I feel weird, please get out…” Fatso giggles in response, “Sorry fleshie but I am already getting VERY comfortable in my new home! You won’t mind if I stay for a while right?”

Brandon wobbles as he stands up and feels Fatso wiggling and moving in his body, he suddenly hears Fatso moan as he feels a lurch in his stomach and his body begins to move on its own. “Time for Fatso to take the reigns fleshie!” Fatso blurts out as Brandon’s body flails around the bathroom while both Fatso and Brandon groan and moan.

Brandon flings to his left and hits his stomach against the sink, “HEYYY there's precious cargo in here!” Brandon continues to shake uncontrollably as he feels Fatso move and expand in his body, almost like he is being put on like a suit. Brandon feels Fatso’s head squeeze into his own as he sighs, “Please don’t do this…” Fatso exclaims, “Don’t worry fleshie, Fatso is going to take GREAT care of you! Now let me take the driver’s seat for a while.” Fatso moans and lurches over as Brandon is gone and fatso is in control now.

Fatso walks up to the mirror in his new body examining himself and his sexy muscles and chiseled face, “Wow… never been in a fleshie this sexy before! This is going to be an amazing night!” Fatso gets a notification from the phone in his pocket and it reads, “Hey man what is taking so long, I'm ready to be fucked!” Fatso gets excited, “Ooh this is going to be fun!” Fatso walks out of the bathroom ready for his escapades.

[cosmogyros]

.

[almostempty]

Something in your mouth

(joel miller x f!reader)

The third installment of  Never made it as a wise man aka creed!joel

WC: 8.4k | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Other fics | Rating: 18+ 

Summary: post hand job and phone sex; it’s the leadup and part 1 of these horny bishes goin’ on a date

Note: heyyyyy it’s me and i’m back on my bs . i know i promised the fuckening, but that was summer me and now it’s winter me.. so instead of hiding and never updating, i remembered i have free will so u get the full week lead-up and the first half of the date.. and then i’ll brb with the fuckfest okay? i promise. (also it’s actually almost done this time so it won’t take months). again, i am still merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. hopefully this part 3 is girthy enough to sate your appetite a lil bit  

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where pt 2 ended, alternating pov, dirty talk, horny yearning, blowjob in the truck, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc, mistakes are all mine

Thanks to Nickelback for having non stop horny bangerz to quote such as Something in your mouth

major thanks to @hoelaris for this moodboard that made me weep tears of joy bc is it so perfect

thanks to @magneticecstasy for date joel thots to be ft in this pt and the next, @auteurdelabre for telling me to let them have their happy ending so i can get back to the paris boys faster, to @syd-djarin for support, horny thots, song suggestions etc, and @itwasntimethatdidit40 for the nickelback pedro tiktok edit inspo

it really takes a village or whatever they say <3 

*if u forgot what this is bc i took so long give Part 1 and  Part 2 a read for a refresh <3 

*if i missed ur tag or u want off this ride lemme know 

okay, it's starting now:

You wake up in Joel’s shirt. It smells more like you than him already, but it still makes you grin devilishly just the same. You go about your day, a few errands and some chores, the whole time with a little more energy than usual. 

When you’re back home and settled in to have a lazy afternoon, you get a little restless. Itchy fingers. It’s hard not to pick up your phone and check your messages again and again. You’re drawn to looking at the picture he sent, the pictures you took, and you can’t help wondering…

Did he wake up thinking of you? Hard, aching, and leaking at the memory of your voice. 

Did he dream of all the nasty things he said he wanted to do to you? Waking up throbbing and frustrated, grinding his cock into the mattress as if you were beneath him. 

Did he wake up and check his phone to confirm you were real? Making it all the way to the shower before surrendering, wishing it was your soft cunt he was fucking instead of his fist. 

You know you’re fucked when just thinking about him thinking about you has you so turned on. It’s so tempting to send him something else. Another picture? An audio message? A thinking of you 😘 text? 

No. No, no, no. 

You can wait him out. Make him work for it a little. He’s a full-grown man. You’ve already given him enough to work with. Plus, you wanna know what he’s gonna come up with next. Right? 

The lazy Sunday ends all too soon and before you know it you’re back to work. Dragging ass into the office with the biggest iced coffee you could buy. You deserve a treat to get through your Monday anyway. 

A little warning bell chimes in the back of your mind as you drop your things on your desk. Ellie grumbles a good morning that matches your enthusiasm for fluorescent lights at 8 am. A little seed of guilt sprouts within you. 

Is it fucked up of you to mess around with Joel? It’s not like it’s something serious. Or, does that make it even worse? There’s no way he would say anything to her about it. 

“Heard you saw Joel again,” she says before you’ve even sat down. Great. 

“Uh, yeah,” you reply, “Still didn’t feel right that he wouldn’t accept anything for helping with my car.” You sink into your chair, hesitating to say more. It’s too early to have a good poker face. 

“So you made him a lasagna?” She questions, staring you down. 

“Men love my meat sauce,” you say with a shrug. 

“Gross,” Ellie grimaces at that, “please, don’t ever say that again.” 

You buy her off with the rest of the cookies you had baked. She’s happy to take the entire container from you and happier to enjoy them all immediately. If she’s suspicious she’s either good at hiding it or you really don’t know how to read her. 

You carry on with your morning catching up on mindless tasks, swirling your coffee around as the ice starts to melt, and trying to stay focused. Ellie turns on her music and you can’t help thinking of Joel again. It’s like he’s infected your mind and every shitty 2000s post-grunge alt-rock song conjures him up. 

You can’t help wondering what exactly he would’ve told Ellie about your surprise visit. Would he have asked about you? Implied anything? You can’t stop yourself from asking. 

“What did he say?” 

Ellie’s head swivels towards you immediately. 

“Who?” 

Instantly you know you messed up. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You shouldn’t still be thinking of him. She prods you about what you said and what you meant. Not accepting a nothing or a never mind. An uncomfortable wave of embarrassment twists in your stomach, heat blooms in your cheeks, and your hands are fidgety. 

You shouldn’t have brought it up, you shouldn't be so defensive. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.  

Ellie is sharp–cutthroat–reading your every move. You stare at the empty Tupperware on her desk, hoping it will reveal some sort of escape plan. A strategy to deflect. It’s too late. Her eyes narrow just the slightest bit and she follows your gaze. It clicks. 

“Oh, you meant Joel?” 

You’re so busted. “I..uh,” you don’t know how to finish that thought. 

“Why?” She gives you such a blank-faced look that it’s unsettling. You’re an adult. Why does this feel like you got caught sneaking out to see a boy on a school night?

You try to brush it off, but it sounds more defensive, making it worse. You focus on cracking your knuckles and trying to feign a more casual air. For some reason that means you keep talking. Broken sentences pouring out of you and trailing off into a stiff laugh. 

Mercifully, Ellie cuts you off. Tells you it was Tommy who mentioned it. 

So, he was the one who showed up while you had your legs spread open on Joel’s kitchen counter. The catalyst to your shirt heist and hasty getaway. That makes your face hot for a different reason. 

“Oh. Gross.” Ellie groans.

“What?” 

“You’ve got that look on your face.” 

You snort at that. Only slightly horrified that she’s so adept at picking up the tells on your face. “What look?” 

You suck down the last of your iced coffee, stalling, until you’re just sucking in air. You toss it in the tiny trash bin between the two of you and decide to be honest no matter what she says. You’d rather get ahead of it. 

“Was it a sex lasagna?” Her mouth is pulled into a look of disgust. 

You snort at that before shaking your head, preparing to get it all out. 

“Okay, look. It was a thank-you lasagna.” You pause, trying to figure out exactly how much to share. “I didn’t plan the rest of it. It just…happened. And, fuck, it was so hot.” 

Her face wrinkles with confusion, then disgust, then laughter. It makes your heart rate speed up. 

“I’m sorry,” your words come out like a waterfall. “I don’t want to make things weird. I want us to be friends. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure it wasn’t serious. I’ll tell you whatever you want. It was my fault. I showed up without letting him know. I made the first move—” 

“You fold quick,” Ellie notes, interrupting you. She throws her hands up and you shut your mouth, “Look, you’re both adults, I don’t care what you do. Just, please, don’t tell me any of the sex details.” 

“Do you really not care? Or like, you say I don’t care and then treat me like Cheryl in the front office?” you ask. 

“No. I genuinely don’t give a shit. Well, I mean, if you break his heart I’ll have to kill you.”

“Naturally,” you agree with a solemn nod. 

“But,” she pauses to take a breath, tilting her head before continuing, “it would probably be good for him, don’t think he’s had a real date in a while. But don’t come back to me broken-hearted if he’s a dick—that’s just his face.”

“A date?” you echo. 

She groans and rolls her eyes at you, but it’s too late. 

Your mind starts to wander. With Ellie’s blessing, you don’t have a reason not to give it a shot.

The harps are already strumming as you float off into your cloud of dissociation. Your favorite daydream flickers into focus as your eyes glaze over and a dazed grin curls on your face. It’s always that same slo-mo Baywatch-style memory. That one where you caught Joel wiping the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. The original temptation that led you back to him. 

Somehow, every time it replays, there’s a new easter egg just for you. The ghost of a knowing smirk or a sparkly-eyed wink when he catches your eye, like a wicked little tease to pull you deeper into the dream world. 

Sometimes it’s all too visceral. In the privacy of your mind, you’re free to direct the scene how you’d like. Slowly panning over the peek of soft skin and the trail of hair you can see. You can still feel the warmth on your fingertips from when you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of those navy blue boxers. 

Sometimes, you create something new. You’d like to take one of his sun-faded plastic green lawn chairs, drag it to the front porch, and sit yourself down for a show. You wanna watch him mow the grass in the evening heat. 

You can see the sweat beads dotted along his neck and the contour of his marble-sculpted arms as he serpentines along your fantasy world front lawn. 

You can smell the fresh-cut grass and the specific blend of sweaty man pheromones that Aphrodite concocted just for you. 

Your chest swells, lungs expanding, as you breathe slowly and deeply. The illusory scents fill your lungs until you release a deep, yearnful sigh. The imaginary lawn mower almost drowns out the imaginary Fred Durst bellering, It’s just one of those days, from that little stereo on the workbench. 

Before you can transition into another scenario—something bounces off your face, and you flinch with a loud yelp. 

“That was your warning,” Ellie glares at you. “Next time I’m throwing something sharp.” 

“Okay, okay, message received.” You offer a sheepish smile, and she turns around. It seems the Limp Bizkit song was very much not a figment of your imagination. Ellie mutters along to the lyrics behind you, barely audible, as you spin in your chair to get back to work. 

It’s not even five minutes later when you swivel in your chair again with another question for Ellie. 

There’s nothing like having a crush on a man you barely know to truly make you delusional. You know you’ve got it bad, but it’s unfortunately just so much fun to daydream and let your mind run wild with the very limited info you know about the man. 

You don’t want to worry about anything that could go wrong. 

Except for, well, everything. 

You still fret over texting him first or waiting. Should you send another picture with no context? Should you call? Should you wait another day? 

When you notice your chest feeling tight you give yourself a reality check. It’s Monday morning. You’re at work. He’s probably at work. You can figure it out later. A future you problem. 

Joel’s text comes through late in the evening. 

Joel: You wearing my shirt to bed again? 

You’re grinning immediately. At hearing from him first and because he fucking clocked you. You snap a quick photo. Despite being on the spot, it’s thoughtfully crafted. Just enough to show the logo and only your mouth, not your face, no extra skin, no sexy tease. Just a confirmation. You send it off, and his reply buzzes seconds later. 

Joel: More 

You try to bite back the grin still stuck on your face as your fingers dance across the screen. You want to tell him off for being so blunt, but for some reason, it feels like such a compliment. You’ve definitely got it bad if a thirsty one-word text feels like high praise. 

You aren’t going to give in this time. You’ve still got Ellie’s words echoing in your mind. A date. You type back one line. 

You: Gonna have to earn it if you want more 

Your phone rings shortly after your message is delivered. Joel’s name flashes on the screen and your stomach flips. You thought maybe he’d send another dick pic, but now he’s calling you? It does check out that he wouldn’t be the texting type, to be fair.

“Hey,” you answer, voice soft, a little tentative. 

“You’re gonna make me work for it, huh?” His drawl is low, rough around the edges and so stupidly sexy it makes your nipples hard. You can just tell he’s already on edge. Delight floods your veins at the idea of him thinking of you all day. 

“You could use a lesson in patience,” your voice is remarkably steady, despite the way your body is lit up. You chew at your lower lip. “Thought I told you that last time we were on the phone,” you chide. 

A deep chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Patience,” he repeats. There’s a pause that has you holding your breath. “I don’t think you’re playin’ fair, baby. Knowing you’re in bed with my shirt on, teasin’ me with another picture.” His voice takes on a husky, knowing tone. “Don’t think it’s patience you’re lookin’ for. Bet I know what you really want.” 

Your breath catches, loud enough he wouldn’t miss it even with his busted phone. You weren’t prepared to be so affected by just the timbre of his voice. It’s fucked up the way he’s got you breathless for no damn good reason. 

You can picture him in his bed. The trademark navy blue sheets. Is he fresh out of the shower? Damp hair and the overpowering scent of whatever 10 in 1 man soap was on sale at the grocery store— 

“Okay. Enlighten me then. What do I want?” you finally reply. 

“You want to hear it,” he continues, smooth and smug, radiating a cocky smirk right through the phone that makes your skin tingle. “You want to hear how you’ve got me hard, sittin’ here thinkin’ about you,” Joel growls, his voice thick with heat. “Thinkin’ about you wearing just my shirt.”

You bite down on your lip to stay quiet. Maybe he’s not in bed at all. Maybe he’s still out in his shop, locked in the office, a couple beers down before he dared to text you. His hair a mess from running his fingers through it, in those faded jeans that cling to him perfectly. 

Either way, it seems almost cruel to stop him with a mouth like that. 

“Thinking about what I’d do if you were here,” he carries on. “You look good in my shirt.” His voice drops even lower. “You’d let me push it up though, wouldn’t you? Just enough so I can see how wet you are for me.” 

You can’t help pressing your thighs together at that thought. If he hears how turned on you are already, you’re definitely going to end up acting out his fantasy over the phone. 

“Fuck.” he mutters, his voice breaking. “You’d let me take my time. Get my hands on those perfect tits again. Soak my fingers with that sweet pussy. Have you so worked up you’d be begging for my cock.” 

He says it like it’s a fact, as if he could come over right now and you’d drag him straight to your bed—or no, like you’d be on him before he could shut the front door. 

It’s so filthy, so confident. You’re so tempted to keep him going, but you pull yourself together. Biting back the whimper stuck in your throat.  

“Well, damn, Joel,” you swallow down the urge to ask for more details. “Guess you’ve got me all figured out then,” you tease with a heavy dash of sarcasm in your tone. 

“Not all of you,” he replies, with a suggestive edge. “Not yet.”

You let out a breath you were holding. “Look, you can’t just get your dick out on the phone, tell me how you wanna touch me, and get your way,” you manage, steady and a little sharp. “Not this time.”

“Not this time?” he echoes, half-laughing, clearly amused. “Alright. Sure. What do you want then?”

There’s a flicker of nervousness that tightens in your chest. You don’t want him to think you’re rejecting him, don’t want to risk losing the momentum of whatever this is. “I’m saying…I do want you. But, if you want more you’re going to have to do more. Show me you mean it. Like…a date.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, and your heart skips as you imagine his reaction. He’s quiet, but you can hear his breathing—measured, like he’s weighing something.

“Shit. You’re serious?” he asks, and there’s a softness now, laced with just enough curiosity to make you think he’s intrigued.

“Dead serious,” you say, adding, “But if you’re not interested in me like that—”

“Oh, I’m interested.” The words come quick, a little sharper than you expect, and they make you beam. “Fine. A date,” he says, like he’s letting the word settle on his tongue. “Friday?”

“Friday.” You confirm and stretch your neck. Your muscles are tense. Shoulders tight. All from his filthy words getting you worked up in half a second and the anxiety of your demand. “Come up with something good,” you tease, your voice slipping into something sultrier, “and maybe we’ll both get what we want.”

There’s a low growl on the other end of the line, tinged with frustration and desire. It makes your pulse throb in your clit. You almost wish you had let him talk you through it before suggesting the date. Hear how worked up he’s been over you. 

“Jesus,” he grumbles. 

Oh, you would’ve turned into a mess and completely forgotten to bring it up. Now you’ve essentially cock blocked yourself until the end of the week. Ugh. 

“You’re gonna drive me mad.” He says. But there’s no animosity in it. Instead, there’s something new in his voice that gives you butterflies. 

“Yep.” 

You’re the one who hangs up first before you can hear anything else that might tempt you to stray from your plan.

……..

It’s late morning when your phone buzzes on your desk the next day, interrupting your excellent cosplay of a ‘productive employee’. You glance at the screen and your heart trips when you see Joel’s name. 

You answer, trying to sound casual despite the fluttery feeling in your chest. “Calling me during business hours, Mr. Miller? You’re going to get me in trouble.” 

Joel snorts softly. “Think we both know you’re the one that likes causin’ trouble.” 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” 

His voice drops lower, quieter. “You need a reminder? Cause I’ve been replaying exactly how much trouble you caused in my kitchen…”

“Don’t.” You nearly hiss into the phone, trying to cut him off before he starts with any graphic retellings. You spin in your chair, grateful when you confirm Ellie has headphones on for once. 

“Right.” His voice is back to a slightly less devastatingly erotic tone. “Wouldn’t want to get carried away while you’re at work. 

“Well,” he drawls, the grin evident in his voice now. “You said you wanted a date, so I was thinking.”

You hum, leaning into the teasing tone. “If it’s a chain restaurant I’m canceling right now.”

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who’d take you to Applebee’s?”

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” you quip, laughing at the soft groan he makes in response. “No Applebee’s, no Chili’s, and if you’re thinking about taking me to whatever the fanciest Italian place is in this town, don’t. I’m not going on a first date where you used to take your ex-wife for anniversary dinners.” 

There’s a beat of silence, then a grumbled, “It was Valentine’s, actually.”

You cackle, delighted at your guess. He huffs. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re predictable,” you shoot back, grinning as you cross your legs under your desk. “Or maybe it’s just ‘cause nobody has been challenging you.”

“S’that what you are?” he asks, “A challenge?” 

You shift in your chair, the grin on your face is going to make your cheeks burn if he keeps this up. You soften the teasing as you admit. “Maybe a little.” 

“Mm,” he grunts, clearly not convinced.

“If you’re up for it,” you add. Nerves flutter in your stomach now. Maybe he doesn’t want a challenge at all. It’s not like you’ve been hard to get. The silence stretches just long enough to make you wonder if you’ve pushed too far. 

His exasperated sigh crackles through the phone, but it’s laced with something warmer. “Yeah.” But then he exhales, soft and almost self-conscious. “Ain’t a bad thing.”

The words are simple, but they settle somewhere deep, curling warm in your chest. For a moment, the flirty defense falls, and you catch the subtle weight in his voice.

“You’re full of surprises, Joel,” you say finally, your tone gentle.

“Guess you’ll find out,” he murmurs, the words quiet like he’s not sure he’s meant to say them.

Your stomach flutters at the unexpected softness. You knew there was more to him than his bold mouth when his dick is hard or the stoic lone wolf look he wears in his garage. You weren’t expecting him to be…whatever this is now. 

The line goes quiet again, his breathing soft on the other end. “Friday at seven,” he says after a moment, his voice steady but quieter than before. “There’s a brewery that Tommy suggested. I’ll pick you up.”

“That sounds nice,” you reply, smiling into the phone.

“Alright,” he mutters. There’s a brief pause, like he’s hesitating, before he says, “See you then.”

He hangs up before you can say anything else, and for a moment, you’re left staring at your phone like an idiot. A grin stuck on your face. Possibly permanently. 

It’s not just the idea of the date. It’s the thought of Joel making a plan, asking for recommendations, and thinking of what you might like. You figured it’d be fun to give him a hard time and all, but you didn’t have real expectations. 

The week stretches on and you’re not sure if it’s moving too fast or too slow. Having a crush is wicked enough, but having a date planned makes you feel slightly insane. It’s like you’re in a cartoon where the world is suddenly brighter and the birds sing just for you. 

You find yourself constantly daydreaming at work. Every Creed song Ellie plays somehow sends you into a fugue state. Snippets of Joel’s voice replay in your head. 

There’s something about the way he said, “Ain’t a bad thing,” that keeps sneaking up on you when you least expect it. It wasn’t even what he said—it was how he said it. Quiet, like he wasn’t used to admitting something like that out loud. It makes you smile like a fool every time you think about it.

The worst is the evenings. At home in your room. Nothing to distract you. Alone with his t-shirt. Re-reading your brief texts. Lingering wistfully over the dick pic he sent like it’s a letter from your long-distance lover. You’ve got to get it together. 

And Joel? He’s just as distracted, though he’d never admit it. At least not to anyone but you. 

At work, his usual rhythm is thrown completely out of whack. He catches himself staring at the same invoice three times before finally filing it away. Tommy catches him with his Breaking Benjamin t-shirt inside out. 

You’re in his head and it’s driving him nuts. He tried to minimize it. Deciding it was just the impulsive way you crashed into his world. You spread like a wildfire in his mind. The kindness in you to deliver a homemade meal. The audaciousness you have to go after what you want. 

He goes weak for a confident woman and you’re so sharp and quick with him. It’s a rush, but not just because of the sexual chemistry. Not just because you’re a novelty or a break in his routine. 

It’s you. It’s the way you’ve got the passion and sharpness with your words, but you’re still soft on the edges. He thinks about the way your voice had dipped when you said, “If you’re up for it,” like you weren’t just teasing but testing something, seeing if he’d push you away.

He’s not used to this. Not the nerves, not the anticipation, and definitely not the way he’s spending too much time wondering what to wear on Friday. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he even dug through the back of his closet, holding up a button-down shirt Ellie had bought him last Christmas like it might bite him. He ends up tossing it back in favor of flannel—it’s still a step up from a faded band t-shirt. 

By Thursday you’re nearly useless. You drive Ellie crazy all morning, spacing out and jumping when she asks you a question. To be respectful, you haven’t mentioned the date and she hasn’t asked. Would Joel have told her? Does she know you’re losing your mind over a man who probably has holes in his sweatpants? Are you equally as pathetic? 

You’re still stuck on that thought when she kicks your chair, startling you back to reality. “Come on,” she demands. “We’re outta here and you’re coming to the Main Street with me. I’ll buy.” 

Turns out you’re a cheap date. The dive bar has strong cocktails and a very limited menu of fried foods to choose from. You sit outside at a picnic table enjoying the warmth of the early summer evening. 

Ellie is easy to get along with. Talking animatedly about her friends. Sharing the hot goss about Cheryl and her divorce. Trying to recruit you to join the company rec league kickball team. It’s all a welcome distraction even though you still have Joel on the brain. 

You do your best not to bring him up but when she mentions him you know you perk up like a heart-eyed fool. Begrudgingly, but with sincerity, Ellie asks if the date is what’s got you so distracted. 

“How did you know?” 

“You’re both worse than teenagers.” She rolls her eyes. “Thought bringing you here might take your mind off it.” 

You snap to attention at her choice of words. “Both?” 

“Don’t.” 

She’s a good friend. You did need the distraction. You’re still smiling about that thought as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom at the bar. There’s a poster taped to the paper towel dispenser for the cover band that plays Saturday nights that catches your eye before you slip your phone out of your pocket. 

You’d blame it on the drinks but the truth is only had one. You hover over the messages. Wondering if he’s really as nervous as you. Fuck it, you decide before sending what you’ve been wondering. 

You: You been thinking about me? 

His message comes through so fast it’s more revealing than the words he typed. 

Joel: Maybe 

Fuck, why does one word have you feeling giddy already? 

Joel: Have you? 

He asks shortly after. You wonder if he’s second guessing himself. Is Joel nervous? 

You: A little  

You figure you’ll give him the same treatment. 

Joel: Haven’t been able to stop, if I’m honest baby 

Heat floods your face as you stare at the screen, and his next message comes before you can respond. 

Joel: Friday’s been feeling real far away 

That has you shaking your head. 

You: Patience is a virtue 

He’s quick to respond again. 

Joel: Never claimed to be a saintly man 

That makes you genuinely laugh. 

You: Good 

……

By the time Friday night rolls around, you’ve fully spiraled into a mess of anxiety and excitement. You’re not really the type to overthink a date, but there’s something about the whole scenario that feels different. It’s not just because Joel’s hot—hotter than he has any right to be—but he’s trying. For you. It’s disarming in a way you weren’t expecting. 

You know that the worst-case scenario for the night isn’t bad. You know how to have a good time wherever you are and you are confident that he’s a horny bastard that will put out even if you actively try to sabotage the date. It’s that flickering sensation in your chest that hopes for more. That’s what makes you nervous. 

You’re startled when Joel knocks at your front door. You check your reflection one last time before heading to the door. You figure it’s casual enough for a first date at a brewery. 

Despite everything inside of you that screamed to put your tits on display again—you couldn’t resist wearing the Creed shirt. You tied it up in the front so it accentuates your figure and paired it with a faux leather skirt with a matching black lace set underneath. 

It’s gotta be enough to play at the alt-rock vibe he’s still living in. You look good. Really good. 

But when you open the door he isn’t the only one who’s world gets rocked. Joel stands in front of you like he was plucked from your fantasy. Freshly showered, his damp curls just starting to dry in soft waves. A plaid button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off those strong, tan forearms. His dark jeans are markedly not as worn down as the last pair you saw him in, yet the effect on you is just as dastardly. 

It’s unfair, really, how good he looks. You’re left blinking as your mouth goes a little dry while you drink him in. Who’s idea was it to have a date? In public? Fuck. He shifts, a sly smile growing on his face as he rests his hip against the door jam. 

“Hi,” you mumble, still ogling him. 

“You look… real nice,” he says, voice so low and velvety it should be registered as a weapon. 

You know you had a smart-ass remark about the shirt on the tip of your tongue, but it’s gone. Gone… along with your morals. All you’ve got left is the intense, primal desire to do something inappropriate with his arms? Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny gremlins like your idea despite having no logistics or master plan. 

They seem to have no coherent plan of attack at all, to be honest. Bite! Lick! Suck! All you know is that you need him in your mouth until your jaw is sore. 

Joel huffs softly. Amused that you seem speechless. “Didn’t think flannel was all that special baby, you alright?” 

“It’s not the flannel,” you mutter under your breath, but you don't let him hear the rest of that thought: Arms! Arms! Arms! 

You grab your bag and follow him out to the truck, stealing glances at him as he walks ahead of you. You can’t help it. He’s so…solid. Sturdy. Sure of himself. Even when he’s out of his comfort zone. It’s doing something sinful to you. 

The inside of the truck smells faintly like a Black Ice air freshener, a Home Depot on a Sunday morning, and Armor All. The distinctly Joel aesthetic lives up to your imagination. It’s lived in. Comfortable. 

There’s the catchall cupholder of change, receipts, and literal nuts and bolts. The caseless CDs in the storage divider strapped to the sun visor—you recognize a couple like Seether and Three Days Grace. 

Before you can take in every detail though, you’re distracted by just the sight of him driving. It’s absurd, but why does he look this good just driving? Most people can manage to operate a vehicle, but most people don’t look as fuckable as Joel does, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. Hand! Thigh! Neck! Fingers! 

You’re reduced to only being able to name anatomical features when you’re this close to him, apparently. Like an alien learning about a man for the first time. An extraterrestrial explorer propelled by the most curious desire to taste and touch every part of Joel—for research. 

You’re so caught up that it takes a while to register the song that’s playing. Of course, it’s more Nickelback. 

You're so much cooler

When you never pull it out

Cause you look so much cuter

With something in your mouth

It breaks the spell he has on you and you laugh, really laugh. Joel looks slightly horrified, having no idea what led to your outburst. When you’ve recovered enough, you let him in on it. 

“Nice first date song. You really know how to set the mood.” 

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t change the song, and you let yourself glance at him again as he drives. His profile glows in the evening sun, and you can’t help thinking how easy it would be to reach over and drag your hand down his chest, and make him pull over so you could climb into his lap. The thought has you pressing your thighs together, your pulse thrumming in your ears. At this rate you’re not going to make it through the night. 

…..

The brewery is trendy. Joel hopes it’s something you like. He tries to focus on the menu, but feels like his brain is short-circuiting. It’s not the overpriced burgers or the craft beers with descriptors that don’t sound like flavors. It’s the way you're leaning forward on your elbows, chin resting in your hand, smile tugging at your lips. 

The shirt is unfair. The way you’ve got it tied, hugging your body in ways that make his palms itch. Knowing you were touching yourself in the same shirt to the sound of his voice. He’s trying not to stare, trying to be polite, but it’s damn near impossible with you sitting across from him like that. 

“How about this one?” you say, pointing to an option on the menu. “Probably the closest thing to what you’ve got stocked in the shop fridge.” He’d wonder how you knew what he had in the fridge, but his eyes are glued to your finger pointing at the menu and it’s consuming all of his thoughts. 

You ramble on about a few other choices but he doesn’t hear the words. He’s still stuck on your hand. He swears he can still feel the ghost of your touch from the kitchen last week. Shit. His jeans are already feeling tighter than they should. 

He clears his throat, trying to pull it together. “I’ll trust you.”  

You smile wide at that. He’s so fucked. “You know a lot about fancy beer.” Yikes. “You got a favorite on here?” Get it together, he begs himself. 

“Nah, I don’t really like beer,” you say casually. You give him a shrug and point out a cider you’re thinking about trying. His stomach twists. 

“You don’t like beer,” he repeats. “But, you let me take you to a brewery?” His chest feels tight, and he shifts uncomfortably. 

“They have food, too.” you counter. 

“Right.” Why does he feel like he’s so out of his element? He’s been second-guessing everything about this date. He feels his gaze drifting as his eyes shift out of focus, his fingers toy with his bottom lip as he gets lost in his head. 

He knows he can get you worked up just as bad as him over the phone, knows he can make you sing for him with just his fingers, but this? He doesn’t know what you want from him now. Is the date some kind of test? He knows he’s overthinking all of it. 

“Hey.” Your voice brings him back, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I like that you planned something.” 

It seems genuine. The way you look at him with bright eyes and a smirk like you’ve got something to tease him about on the tip of your tongue. “Now ask me a boring first date question,” you instruct with a nod like you’re giving him some kind of permission. 

“What’s your favorite color?” 

You snort laughing at him. If you’re half as nervous as him you don’t show it. 

….

It works. Mostly. Your drinks arrive. The conversation flows more easily. He still gets tripped up here and there but doesn’t disappear on you again. He asks about your job, your family, about where you moved from, and you give him enough to keep things light but still playfully dodge some of his questions. 

Every time he gets flustered, you catch yourself smiling, a little surprised at how much you’re enjoying this. It’s the way he watches you like he’s trying to figure you out. The way he tries. He seems to relax a little and for a moment, you think he might settle into the evening. 

Then he reaches for his water, and it all goes sideways. The dangerously full glass wobbles, tilting just enough to spill halfway across the table. Joel jerks back, cursing dejectedly under his breath as he grabs a napkin to clean it up. 

You can’t help it. The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Just loud enough for him to hear. “Trying to get me wet already?” 

His eyes snap to yours. You grin, adding, “Don’t worry, been dripping for you since you showed up at my front door.” 

He makes a sound between a cough and a choke. Stunned. The faintest blush creeps up his neck, reaching all the way to his ears. For a second, he looks like he might say something, but all he manages to get out is a gruff, “Jesus.” 

You lean back in your chair, grinning triumphantly. You didn’t expect him to get so rattled by your comment. Not with how vulgar he’s been on the phone or when he had his hand between your legs. It’s an ego boost to know you’ve got the upper hand at first. 

“Relax,” you purr. 

Then you catch the way he discreetly tries to adjust himself under the table. Clearly unable to relieve the pressure. Knowing the effect you have on him is more intoxicating than the alcohol. An idea strikes you. You know exactly how to get him to relax. 

“Do you have cash?” you ask. 

“What? Yeah.” He looks at you confused. 

You nod like he proved a point by saying yes. That confuses him further, a deep line forming between his brows. 

“‘Course you do. That’s like, Dad 101 ‘carry cash in case of emergency’. 

You stand and grab your bag. “We’re not staying,” you say simply.

“What?” He frowns, sitting up straighter. 

You flash him a smile. “I’ve got a better idea. Come on. You said you trust me.”

“To choose a beer,” he grumbles, dropping enough cash for a generous tip on the table before letting you lead. He doesn’t argue as you walk back to the truck, just trying to catch up with your words. He opens the passenger door for you, his hand brushing yours briefly as you climb into the truck. It’s a small thing, but the innocence makes your pulse skip all the same. 

Once he’s in the driver’s seat, the tension between you shifts. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. You glance at him, taking in the way his hands grip the steering wheel so tightly, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he shifts. 

The truck rumbles to life and another one of the horniest Nickelback songs plays—barely loud enough to recognize. 

I’m loving what you wanna wear

I wonder what’s up under there 

Wonder if I’ll ever have it under my tongue 

You bite back another laugh as the vocals float through the cab, perfectly at odds with the vibe of the place you just left. Joel shifts, mouth twitching like he knows how ridiculous it is. “You wanna tell me where we’re headed?” he asks, voice cutting through your thoughts. 

You tell him where to drive and settle back in your seat. Again your thoughts drift. Infatuated with his fingers curling and uncurling like he’s trying to distract himself. He hasn’t said much since you’ve left, but you can feel the tension radiating off him. Heavy and thick. 

You catch his gaze flicker to you for the third time in as many minutes. His eyes trail over the curve of your thighs where your skirt has ridden up. It’s subtle, but enough to make you feel bold. 

You smirk, pulling the visor down to check your reflection in the mirror. Fishing a lip gloss out from your bag, you swipe it over your lips, smoothing the edges with your fingertip. Joel doesn’t say anything, but you don’t miss the deep steadying breath that fills his lungs or the crack of his knuckles. 

Satisfied with your lips, you tug lightly at the t-shirt, adjusting the knot, shifting the fabric to lay how you like and slipping a hand beneath it to adjust your tits in your lacy bra. You hear Joel exhale sharply, a low, throaty sound that makes heat curl low in your stomach. 

“You okay?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Your voice is softer now, more knowing, and when he doesn’t answer right away, you grin. “You seem tense.”

Joel mutters something under his breath. His jaw tightens. Finally, he glances at you, his eyes dark. “You keep doin’ that, and we’re gonna have a problem, baby.”

���Doing what?” you ask, your voice all innocence, though his threat gives you a prickly rush. 

Joel huffs a laugh, low and rough. “You know damn well.” His voice dips, a rasp of heat that whips down your spine. “The lips and the shirt, just messin’ with me like you want me to lose my fuckin’ mind.” 

Your grin widens as you meet his gaze. “And what if I do?”

“Jesus,” he mutters, his voice strained, his hand flexing against the wheel. “Trying to get me to crash into a ditch or something?” 

The tension between you is unbearable now, the air thick and buzzing. Joel’s jaw is clenched tightly. You unabashedly linger on the way his hips press forward slightly like he’s trying to relieve the ache between his legs. It shouldn’t drive you fucking wild with need, but you’re gripped mind, pussy, and soul. 

“Pull over,” you say suddenly, your tone steady.

Joel’s head snaps toward you, incredulous. 

“Pull over,” you repeat, your voice softer now, more insistent. “Please.”

He hesitates for only a second before caving, steering the truck onto the shoulder. The tires crunch against the gravel as he shifts into park, the engine idling low as he turns to look at you. His eyes are dark, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him—wrecked and barely holding it together—makes you rabid. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” his voice is rough and quiet. Infused with lust and awe. 

“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning closer. “But you’ll enjoy it.”

Joel groans softly, his hand flying to your thigh, the heat of his palm searing against your skin. “Torturing me,” he mutters, his voice a low growl. “Sitting there lookin’ like that, knowing damn well what you’re doin’ to me.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your breath hitching as his fingers slide higher. “What am I doing to you, Joel?”

He exhales sharply, his grip on your thigh tightening. Why are his hands that big? Like, how are you supposed to know what they feel like and ever leave his grasp? 

Your heart is pounding now, the heat in your veins making it hard to think straight. Joel’s voice drops lower, his hand sliding further up your thigh as he leans closer.

“Can’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he mutters, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “The way you’d taste, the way you’d sound, begging me to fuck you harder, deeper—”

“Joel,” you whisper, cutting him off. Your voice is shaky, your hands gripping his arm as you try to ground yourself. “Please.”

He groans again, the sound rough and desperate, and his hand moves higher, his fingers brushing the edge of your underwear. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

It makes you shudder. You feel him smile at your body's obvious responses, as his nose grazes your skin just below your ear. 

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs into your neck. “Been thinkin’ about you all damn week. Every time I close my eyes, it’s you.”

His words hit like a match to dry kindling, and your breath stutters as his fingers trace the seam of your panties. 

“You know how hard it was to sit there at that table?” he mutters, his voice turning darker. “With you looking like this, wearing my clothes, teasin’ me.” 

“We didn’t even make it to the actual dinner part,” you giggle as you trail off. 

His fingers press more firmly, dragging slowly over the thin fabric, and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips. Joel groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your thigh to hold you steady.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with heat. “You’re already soaked. Bet I could make you come like this, right here, without even tryin’.”

Your hips shift instinctively, grinding against his hand as he works you with deliberate precision. The friction is maddening, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to send you over. Every filthy word he says in your ear has you burning up. 

“Jesus, you’re gonna sound so fuckin’ sweet for me,” he says, more to himself. “Can’t wait to bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name until your throat’s raw.”

“Joel,” you whisper, your voice shaky, your hand flying to his wrist as his fingers dip lower, brushing just beneath the edge of your panties. “Wait.”

He freezes instantly, his brow furrowing as he looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, your cheeks flushed, your body still trembling under his touch. “Not now,” you assert, your voice soft but steady. “Let me take care of you.”

Joel blinks, his pupils blown wide as your words sink in. His mouth parts to say something but the words disappear. You don’t let him argue. 

Sliding your hand down to his belt, you undo it hastily, fingers working open the button of his jeans before he can protest. It’s for him. You want to do this for him. Help him relax so you can enjoy the rest of your date. 

But, fuck, it’s also for you. You’ve been riding a high just from a shoddy dick pic and your muscle memory, but you’ve been patient long enough. You’ve got to see it in person and you need it in your mouth, asap. You deserve that much, right? 

You slide down the zipper and fuss with the waistband until you get what you wanted. His breath catches as you free his cock. It’s heavy and hard against your palm. Radiating heat and weeping for you. 

“Oh, fuck,” he starts, his voice breaking. 

You hum softly, pleased, leaning in to kiss him as your hand strokes him slowly, deliberately. Joel groans against your mouth, his hips jerking slightly into your hand. 

“You’ve been thinking about this,” you murmur against his lips. “All week.” 

“Yeah,” he rasps, voice raw with want. “Can’t stop thinking about you. How you’d feel, how you’d look, how you’d sound.” 

“Show me,” you whisper, lowering your head to taste for yourself. You like a hot stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue around the head. 

Joel’s breath stutters, his hand flying to the back of your head as he watches you. “You’re so fucking good, baby. Like a fucking dream.” 

You hollow your cheeks, tongue gliding along his length as you take him into the heat of your mouth. You have to use your hands to work the rest of him, still slowly and deliberately. Every sound he makes, every twitch against your tongue, every flex of his core, and tightening of his fingers, it all drives you wild. 

It has you moaning with need around him. Your cunt soaked and pulsing, begging for attention between your legs as you focus all on him. It’s just as much for you as it is for him. 

His head tips back against the seat, a rumbling grown spilling from his lips as his hips shift beneath you. 

“Shit.” he pants, voice cracking. “You’re gonna make come so fuckin’ hard. Bet you’d look so pretty with my come on your tongue.” 

The sheer filth of his words spurs you on, your movements quickening as you savor every groan, curse, and sharp inhale from him. “Fuck—just like that.” He encourages you, adding firm pressure to the back of your head as his hips jerk and he loses control. 

“You want it?” he asks desperately as you moan in affirmation. You’re voice is still vibrating through him as he starts to come, hot and heavy on your tongue. You don’t stop until his body goes slack beneath you, his chest heaving as you finally pull back. 

He looks wrecked, mouth hanging open, sweat on his brow. You give him a devilish smile before opening your mouth to show him. He stares at you, eyes dark and hazy, before cupping your jaw in his palm as you swallow. 

“Told you,” he huffs, “so fucking pretty with my come on your tongue.” A bright, satisfied smile spreads on your face at his praise. He pulls you in closer for a kiss. When you pull back a frown pulls at your mouth. 

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks hurriedly. 

“I didn’t get to see,” you muse. “Will you take a picture next time?” 

“Fuck,” he looks at you with awe and pride. “Yeah, baby, of course.” 

“Good,” you nod, readjusting and settling back into your seat. “You think you can relax a little now?” you ask, tone teasing.

Joel lets out a breathless laugh. He drags his hand down his face. “You’re unreal,” he mutters, voice still hoarse. The phrase makes you beam with pride. It’s the same remark he made over the phone last week…right before he said ‘got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager’.” 

The gratification just from seeing him this wrecked is like a drug. He’s every bit as enticing and addicting as you hoped and feared. You squeeze your thighs together once more and take a deep breath. Committed to the rest of your idea for saving your first date with the divorced DILF of your dreams. 

“Back on the road. We’ve got places to be.”

Joel blinks at you, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re serious?”

“Yep,” you smile lazily, tugging gently at his arm. “Drive.”

He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about you being the death of him, but he shifts the truck into gear, his hand lingering on your thigh as he pulls back onto the road.

THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU ENJOYED OR HATED ANY OF IT <3

dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics

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[the-flaneur]

the enemy of my friend is my enemy, but he's also his own worst enemy? so he's my friend? (nr6) | pt3

pairing: nico rosberg x hamilton!reader [smau]

summary: in an attempt to plan a surprise birthday party for your brother's 39th birthday, you enlist the help of his ex-??? to get into his apartment

warnings: none (i think)

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lewishamilton

liked by fencer, charles_leclerc, roscoelovescoco and others

lewishamilton Excited to be back home for New Year's. Here's to an amazing 2024!

view all comments

user1 LOOKING GOOD SIRRRRRR 😩😩😩

user2 i usually hate manspreading, but the way this man does it is sooooooo sexy user3 literalllyyyyy it's the see through shirt that does it for me though user4 can't wait to see him without his braids, they're the only thing that get me through the winter break 😭😭😭

user5 UGH HOW DOES MONACO HAVE SUCH GOOD WEATHER IN LIKE THE MIDDLE OF WINTER, BRO'S IN A SHORT SLEEVE SHIRT

fencer can't wait to see you brother 💪

user6 yooooo birthday bash hints??? user7 i mean his birthday is pretty soon....maybe we'll see another bro pic hahahaha

user8 happy new years eve from london ❤️

charles_leclerc when are you going to finally invite me out on a yacht trip ☹️

user9 LOL CHARLES ARENT U LITERALLY MONEGASQUE AND RICH - GET UR OWN YACHT 🤣🤣🤣 user10 bro just wants to hang out with the goat

user11 ya'll anyone else catch on y/n's absent comment??? girlie is usually on top with responding to her brother's posts...

user12 yk she doesn't always have to respond right, like she could just be with lewis, or you know...being her own person user13 lmfaooo so real @/user12 user14 but like she's not even given it a like? i wonder where she is... LIKED BY lewishamilton

user15 hopefully mercedes have their car back on track this year, we NEED to see this man win a race 🙌🙌🙌

user16 CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT INSTA POST!!! BIRTHDAY TIMEEEEEE

f1gossipofficial

liked by user17, user18, user19 and others

f1gossipofficial well well well it looks like an old romance may have been rekindled just before new years!

y/n hamilton and nico rosberg have been seen arguing in y/n's ferrari daytona sp3 in monaco, before engaging in a heated makeout session. are we going to see our first new (honorary) wag of 2024?

view all comments

user20 OH MY FUCKING GODDDDD 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

user20 WE ARE SO BACK GUYS

user21 HOLY SHIT MOTHER AND FATHER ARE BACK TOGETHER TRULY MY ROMAN EMPIRE

user22 someone gotta call the ambulance for lewis, he's about to get the biggest heart attack of his life

user23 cant believe their relationship has literally been strangers -> friends -> secret lovers -> enemies -> friends? -> lovers????

user24 that's why they're ICONS 💪💪💪 user25 istg if they go back to being enemies after all this crapshow they've put us through... user26 i think max would rather just shove them in a hotlap with him around spa and then lock them together in a room then face them being enemies again

user27 YA'LL ARE MISSING THE POINT AGAIN, THEY'VE PROBABLY BEEN TOGETHER SINCE BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR

user28 RIGHTTTT 🤨 like are people seriously think they havent contacted each other before this lol user29 nah i think this is legit their first interaction in like eight years - welp didn't take them that long to get BACK together

user30 do you guys need a third??? asking for a friend

user31 bros are not subtle at all 😭 making out in such a recognisable car and city where everyone knows who tf they are 😭😭😭

user32 i forgot how good they look together 😍

user33 watch their kids be pretty as f too

user34 well looks like both hamiltons like rosberg, wonder if thats definitely not at all caused any arguments 😒

user35 well you defs werent around for the great hamilton twitter discourse of 2014... user36 oh yeah forgot about that user37 🤨 someone wanna tell me what that is?

user38 CANT WAIT FOR THEM TO ACTUALLY FINALLY POST EACH OTHER AFTER EIGHT YEARS

user39 i missed the anniversary posts so bad 😍 user40 their cute little dates healed something in me

-> messages

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

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@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon @princessminjikwon

enemy or friend (this) series taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@menagerofmischief @mxdi0 @mixedstyles @tinystudentblaze-stuff

@a-beaverhausen @easy4 @formulaal @taygrls @woozarts

@im-an-op81-fan @vampsarereal @amz824 @taylorsvogue13

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[slutforsturns]

𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖊 - 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖔

warnings: giving head, unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talk, pet names (ma, baby, etc), whimper audio mentions, very light (literally like one sentence) masturbation, aftercare !!!

a/n: my first story on here 🤭 pls send requests I promise I'll do them! also tell me if u like the story!

MDNI !!!!

word count: 2.4k

mini playlist: dangerous woman by ariana grande, often by the weekend, shut up and listen by nicholas bonnin, bathroom by montell fish >3333

enjoy!

You were at a party with your friends, a girl hangout. 

You were all drunk and had decided to play truth or dare. 

Unfortunately, it was your turn. 

“Truth or dare,” One of your friends asked you. 

If you were your usual sober self, you would have said truth. 

But right now, you were dangerously drunk. 

“Dare” You say, giggling as you wait for your friends to tell you what you have to do. 

Your friend looks at the group, whispering something before she turns to you. 

“Your dare is to text the third man in your contacts and ask him for a whimper audio.” She says, laughing as she watches your eyes widen slightly. 

But instead of being a baby and not doing it, you open your phone and go to your contacts.

You gasp when you see who it is. Matt Sturniolo, your enemy. 

You had texted him a few days ago about something, probably to get on his nerves, but now, you were going to have to text him and request a whimper audio. 

Oh God. 

Your friends watched eagerly as you typed out ‘send me a whimper audio’. You knew your friends were waiting on you to send it so you decided against clarifying it was for a dare, for right now, at least. 

Your fingers shook as you hit send, immediately regretting your decision, even in your drunken state. 

Your friends squealed as it sent and almost immediately, you saw that he read it. 

You hit yourself in the head but just sigh and turn your phone off, continuing the game. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You arrived home an hour later, by Uber, and crashed into your apartment, making a beeline for your couch. 

Your head was pounding and you collapsed on the couch, breathing deeply. Your head felt like it was spinning on a merry-go-round and you could see fucking sounds and hear colors. 

You were close to passing out when a ding went off. You fumbled for your phone that was still in your pocket and opened it. It was a message from Matt. 

No, not a message. A voice note. It was just over two minutes long. You groan and think about the whimper audio dare. You were sure it was just two minutes of Matt asking what the hell was wrong with you and why the hell you would ask that. 

Even though you know it’s a bad idea, you still click on it. 

Immediately, you hear a soft moan. And then another one, and another one. 

And you think, just for a moment, in the background you can hear something else. 

Is that his-? You ask yourself. You shake your head and continue to listen. 

A loud moan erupts from your phone and heat shoots right to your core. You debate throwing your phone but instead take a deep breath. 

At about a minute in, you hear his voice. 

“F-fuck, Y/N, I’m about to cum thinking about you.” You hear Matt say softly. His voice sounds far off as his heavy breathing comes through your speakers. 

“This is what you do to me, Y/N.” You hear him whisper again. “I’m so fucking glad you asked for this, was wondering when you’d get my hints.” He laughed slightly, a groan following right after. 

You could hear his breathing speed up as his movements sounded faster through the phone. 

And you couldn’t help the way his words made you feel. Horny. Very fucking horny. 

You couldn’t control yourself as you started the voice note over and your hand sneakily made its way under your sweats and into your panties. 

You began to circle your clit and let out a moan that was almost in sync with Matt’s. “Oh fuck, “ You whimpered quickly before removing your hand from yourself. 

You quickly paused the audio and texted Matt. 

‘Please come over, I need you so bad.’ 

You hit send and waited eagerly for a response. You got one nearly immediately. 

‘Omw ma’

—

Ten minutes later, you hear a knock on your door.

All you’ve been doing is listening to the audio. Over and over and over. 

And trying not to touch yourself has been torture. But you knew it would be worth it when you heard those sounds in real life. 

You rush to the door and fling it open, mouth dropping when you see Matt. 

Black tank top, gray sweats hanging so low you could see the top of his Calvin Klein underwear, silver chain on his neck. You could almost drop to your knees right then and there. 

He smirked at you before sliding past you. You shut the door quickly and spun around to face him. 

“Send a whimper audio, hm?” He asked, slowly moving towards you. “What in the world made you ask me that? Because I know it wasn’t of your own doing, baby.” He pointed out, getting nearer. 

You began to back away from him until your back hit the front door. “It was a dare.” You respond, gulping. 

He smiled down at you as he stood above you. “Was it now?” 

You nod quickly and avert your eyes from his face but he puts his fingers under your chin and turns your face back to his. 

“Well, you got your whimper audio. So what do I get?” He asked you, quietly, dipping down to your ear. “Hm?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” You admit. Matt just chuckles and starts peppering soft kisses along your jaw. 

“But Ma, I think you do. It’s not fair that I give you something and I get nothing in return. That’s not right, now is it?” He asks, licking a stripe up your neck. 

You shake your head dumbly, relishing in the feeling of Matt’s mouth on your neck. “Mhm no that’s not f-fair.” You say, slurring your words. 

“Yeah, so what do you think we should do about that, hm?” 

You just so happened to glance down between the two of you. You could see Matt’s hardened bulge in his sweats and dropped down to your knees. 

You gazed up at him and began to slowly draw his sweats down. You said nothing, just gazed at him through your long eyelashes. You could see his cock in his underwear, straining against the fabric, begging to be let free. 

“May I?” You asked him, your voice dripping with honey. He simply nodded quickly and you wasted no time pulling his underwear down and running your small hand along his length, 

Matt watched intently as you carefully licked a stripe up the underside of his length, your tongue running along a vein that had him throwing his head back, holding back a groan. 

You wrapped your lips around his tip, tasting his salty-sweet precum on your tongue. Matt let out a low groan, and feverishly watched as you took him in your mouth, inch by painstaking inch. 

“Fuck princess, please hurry up.” He almost begged, head falling forward. You smiled around his cock but took him until his tip touched the back of your throat. 

“Mhm yeah that’s it” He groaned, various curses spilling out of his mouth as you ran your tongue along the underside of his length. But Matt was still impatient, growing frustrated at your slow pace. 

He didn’t want to but his pleasure was so blinding that he could hardly think about the repercussions right now. He took your head and moved it back and forth on his dick. 

You let out a squeal around his dick but quickened your pace. Tears pricked at the edge of your vision and you gagged around Matt but it didn’t stop his hand from continuing to force his dick farther and farther down your throat. 

“Fuck baby, you’re absolutely loving my dick in your mouth, hm?” He forced out through gritted teeth. 

His words shot straight to your core and you could feel the wetness down there. You wanted to hurry up so he could go ahead and just fuck you. 

You began to play with his balls in your hand, earning a moan to erupt from Matt’s mouth along with another strained “Fuck Ma.”

You could feel his balls tighten and knew he was coming close to his finish. And you wanted to help him. 

You tried to fit his whole length in your mouth and managed to get most of it in. Then you began running your tongue all along his shaft. 

“Baby, you’re gonna swallow all my cum, okay?” He instructed. 

Spit came out of the sides of your mouth and your vision began to blur from your lack of air but you had to do this for Matt. It was only fair. 

He fucked your face roughly before finally letting out a loud groan and shooting thick spurts of cum straight down your throat. 

He pulled out quickly and you gulped down air, panting as tears forced themself out the edges of your eyes. 

You looked up at Matt who had regained his breath and gave him a small smile before wiping your mouth. 

Matt could feel himself hardening again from the sight beneath him. He needed to be inside of you, now.

He took you under your arms from where you sat on the floor and hoisted you up and over his shoulder. You let out a squeak but don’t try anything as he carries you to your bedroom. 

He takes you off of his shoulder and places you on the bed before immediately shedding his tank, throwing it somewhere on the floor. 

You took yours off quickly too, not wanting to waste any time. You wanted this, you needed this. 

Matt came over to you on the bed and started kissing you, not gently but roughly. His lips were urgent and yours fought back, a mess of teeth and tongue. 

His hands wandered to your bra and started unclipping it, throwing it when he finally got it off. He broke the kiss and leaned back to look at you, your breasts on display for him. 

“So fucking beautiful Ma” Matt said. 

You let out a soft whimper at his words, your nipples hardening to the point of pain. 

“You helped me so I help you, yeah? How about we get these leggings off?” He asked you and you nodded quickly, maybe too quickly but you were too blinded by your need for pleasure, especially if it came from him. 

He pulled the leggings off you and discarded them. You suddenly remembered that you were wearing lacy blue panties, which you just so happened to remember was Matt’s favorite color. 

“Did you wear these for me, baby?” He smirked. You whined, becoming needy for him to touch you. 

“Please Matt, I need you so bad.” You whined out, grasping for his hands to just go ahead and take your underwear off. He didn’t resist as you guided his hands to the waistband of your underwear and drew his hands down, dragging your underwear with it, until they slipped off your legs and into the bedding. 

He moved your legs open slightly, licking his lips when he saw how wet your cunt was, your wetness practically dripping down your slit. Matt simply couldn’t wait anymore, he needs you right now. 

He looked to you for consent as he lined his cock up with your entrance. You nodded and he sank into you immediately, groaning. You whined at the quick intrusion but Matt stopped for a moment to let you get adjusted to his size before he continued. 

He pulled out before thrusting into you at an agonizingly slow pace. You clawed at the bedsheets, practically begging him to just go faster, to fuck you into the mattress, to be rough, to hurry up. 

“Damn, you’re really needy, huh ma?” He commented, rolling his hips lazily. You whined again. “Faster, faster, please go faster Matt” You begged him, writhing with need under him. 

Then, in what seemed like almost a second, he quickly took you under your knees and raised you up before thrusting into you roughly. You moaned loudly, happy with the new pace. He quickly found a rhythm that had you screaming his name so loud people several floors down probably heard you. 

“So fucking tight, baby.” He grunted as he fucked into you. You squeezed around his cock, feeling your orgasm approaching. “Matt, M’ gonna-”

“Mhm yeah baby, gonna cum on my cock? Huh, you gonna cum on my fucking cock?” 

You nodded mindlessly, desperately grinding yourself on Matt’s cock in a feeble attempt to chase your high. Your tits bounce with the force of his thrusts, breathy moans erupting from your mouth every time he slams into you. He thrusted so hard into you that the headboard began to hit the wall but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a single fuck. 

You hold onto the sheets so tight, it feels like your fingers might go straight through them. You’ve never been fucked this hard and needless to say, you were fucking loving it. 

And then you felt it, that wonderful knot unraveling in your stomach, the intense pleasure that rippled through your body and caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head. You chanted Matt’s name over and over as you rode your high, so much it didn’t even sound like a real word anymore. 

As you came on Matt’s cock, your pussy gripped his cock in the perfect way and then, Matt was cumming too. It seemed like it wouldn’t stop as he shot his sperm into you, not stopping his assault on your pussy as he fucked his cum into you. 

“So fucking perfect, Ma. ‘Could fuck this pussy all night” Matt said. And then, he slumped over, exhausted but so fucking happy. 

You two stayed like that for a few minutes so you could both catch your breath. Then Matt pulled out and watched as his cum slowly poured out of you onto the bed. 

Your eyes fluttered gently as Matt wiped a piece of hair out of your face. He went to the bathroom and turned on the water, starting to make you a bath. Then he went back to you. “Come on, baby, let’s get you cleaned up.” He picked you up and carried you to the bathroom, helping you to use the toilet so you didn’t get a UTI. 

Then he carefully put you into the bathtub and cleaned you off, washing your body and hair, all the while you let him. He took extra care to wash the soap off and wrap you in a fluffy towel. He carried you back to the bed and took the sheets off and threw them in the wash before putting new ones on the bed. 

He laid down with you and cuddled. You wrapped your arms around his neck and muttered “I love yous” on his skin. 

----<333

[seeingivy]

ribbons release

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: happiness for once. until it is not. ronnie's love for foreshadowing strikes again.

an: not a fan of this chapter, but we digress. read it and do not kill me if you don't like it.

song: not explicitly mentioned, but this chapter reminds me of about you by the 1975. ratty healy, I hate you but you ate on this one thing.

previous part linked here

--

“I ju-just sent my loc-location, Eren.” 

“I got it, Y/N. I just need you to hold on for ten more minutes, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

“Y-yes.” 

Seattle is famous for rain. You understand that all too well now. After what you’ve counted as twenty-seven minutes - from when you went to take the trash out to the mailpost you’re hiding behind now - you’re all but soaked. Drenched. 

Your phone is blowing up with texts, the rain is only getting harder, and the mini black dress and ribbon in your hair do no favors to keep you warm. You slide out of your call with Eren and quickly scan through the messages, buzzing so loud they’re blocking Eren’s voice. 

reiner: so, so proud of you always!!! stop being a big famous pop star and go back to being the little twerp who needs my help killing spiders on set :/ 

levi: I love you too, kid. And on a real listen, we really do love the album. 

armin: ann and i are smelling a triple threat on the horizon. love you to the moon and saturn <3

connie: i was accidentally pooping while i listened to dorothea for the first time and i think the combination of those two things at once gave me like a really visceral reaction. im not ok. u are amazing. 

mikasa: u are givg me aneurysm. pls don’t forgor to call me the scnd ur okay. 

erwin: Call me ASAP. 

erwin: Not urgent. Just feeling emotional about my little Canadian reaching hearts all over the world. 

king of bitches (maybe: ryomen sukuna): Fluff shit indeed. Blow me a kiss when you beat James for Album of the Year. 

danny: where is the album release post? it’s almost been half an hour. 

You have bigger problems at the moment. Like the frozen piece of fabric you’re wearing. You should have named the album sweaters or scarves or something. Then at least you’d be warm. And blend in with the paparazzi. 

Fuck.

“W-wait, Eren. Y-you ca-n’t b-be the one to get me.” you murmur, shivering through your teeth.

“Do you want to stay with someone else? I know nice people here. My neighbor is in her late forties and has like two middle school aged girls that are really nice. They’d take care of you, I promise you can trust them and-” he rambles. 

“N-no. I want to st-stay with you. But pa-papara-zzi. S-send ss-omeone e-else.” 

“Paparazzi? Why are-?” 

“Er-eren.” 

“Would it be that bad if it was me? Like it has to be someone else, Y/N?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“I have someone in mind. She’s leaving right now, okay?” 

Eren’s sound is muffled over the line now, which has you digging your phone into your ear to catch the ends of what he’s saying. 

Blast the heater….butt warmer on before she’s in the car….bring it up and I will kick your freeloading….

“Y/N?” 

“H-here.” 

“Good. I’m sending her. Don't get upset, this is the best I could do, okay? I-I promise she’s actually nice. You can trust her and-and I’d never send someone who would do something bad.”  

“O-okay. I t-trust you. J-just get me ou-out of th-this, please.” you whimper, praying to god the rustling behind you is a rabbit and not the group of them finding you. 

“I’m trying sweetheart, okay? She’s speeding. She’s on Main and Third, three lights and she’s there.” 

That’s when you see it. The flash of the camera. And hear five consecutive clicks right after. You look around the periphery, before you see two of them, two tall guys speed walking closer to where you’re hiding. 

So you do the only thing you can. Stand up and run instead. 

You scramble up off the pavement, hiking your dress down, and keep running down the block. Climb up the gates, knock over trash cans to block the way, anything to stop them. And when you look back, after who knows how long, you realize they’re gone. 

And sit flat on the messy pavement, finally lifting the phone back up. Only to realize Eren’s no longer on the line because your phone is dead. You drop it straight into your lap and dig your hands into your head, covering your ears to stop the pounding sound of the rain from getting any louder. 

God. Just breathe. Whoever is coming to get you is on the way. They’ll come get you and then you’ll be out of this mess. 

You hear three resounding clicks and a flash of a light to look up at two different paps, two girls this time, getting a straight on picture of you. And all you can do is put your head down in your lap and cry. 

They already got the picture. There’s no point in trying to run out of it anymore. 

“Y/N.” 

“Pl-please. I’m b-begging you. You already got your picture and can ss-spin it into whatever you want. I-I’m still a person, please. Just let me go.” you respond, the tears blinding your sight of vision. 

You feel a towel being wrapped around your shoulders and soft hands lifting you up by your arms. And then all of a sudden you’re in a warm car, being sped out of the neighborhood past the groups of paparazzi in between the houses, and not directly across from them having your picture taken. 

You’re in a car. You’re okay. You’re leaving. You’re okay. 

You lean back and breathe hard, phantom sobs still racking out of your chest, trying to register that you’re almost there. Safe behind closed, triple locked doors. 

“D-did you tell Eren?” 

“Yes. He’s not far, we’ll be there soon, okay?” 

“Okay. T-thank you. I’m Y/N.” 

“Lana.” 

You turn your head to actually take in the driver this time, to be met with the Lana you feared. Ricky’s ex-girlfriend, Lana. She has short brown hair - entirely different from her long, beachy waves from the Girlfriend incident - a pointed nose and a very clenched jaw. 

“Th-there are more blankets on the floor. I pumped the heater pretty hard, but I’ll turn all the fans your way. And anything you could possibly need is being rushed to the house for you, so just don’t worry, okay?” 

“I appreciate it. Thank you for coming to get me. I-I” 

“Please don’t thank me. I just-” 

She takes a harsh intake of breath and turns to give you a look, her mouth upturned. 

“He locked you out, didn’t he?” she whispers. 

“Yeah.” you respond. 

“What did you do?”

“I told him I didn’t like him back.” 

She turns her head towards you, a look of confusion on her face. 

“It was a PR thing.” 

She snorts. 

“Your managers must hate you.” 

“I’m starting to think they just might.” 

“Well. Don’t feel bad. Not for a fucking second. Just because he likes you, doesn’t mean he’s entitled to you reciprocating back. You like who you like. And if I were you, I wouldn’t stop liking a guy like Eren for a skeeze like Ricky either.” 

You lean against the glass, hot air blowing in your face, as you take in her expression - so enraged, so exasperated, so furious that it gives you a chill. But when she looks over and gives you a halfhearted smile, you see the pained expression there too. 

That’s when you pinpoint it. Lana reminds you of Historia. 

“I’m sorry.” you respond. 

“For?” 

“You knew he locked me out. He must have done it to you too, no?” you whisper, the tension in the air delicate. 

She swallows hard and clenches her knuckles on the steering wheel, eyes laser focused on the red light shining on her face. And beyond the original striking features - her sharp jaw and nose - you see the softness too. The dimples, the wrinkles near her eyes, the light brown freckles. 

“I wanted to take time off from acting. It-I did a role that was really traumatic and I just needed a break. And he was just about to go on tour and he wanted me to come to support. Like a little cheerleader.” 

“So he locked you out?” 

“For two days. He-he’s just. A lot of the fame stuff got to him when he was really little. And now he’s got this convoluted sense of self-image and it just- I don’t know. He’s got problems.” she responds. 

“I’m sorry. Really, that’s-” 

You stop talking, words failing you. And maybe it’s the way your head was frozen ten minutes ago and it’s being melted now, or that the picture they took is going to leak soon, or that there is no good thing to say to something shitty like this. It only took him three months to turn on you, which you’re guessing is generous now. She must have infinite patience for putting up with it for an entire year. 

“In a weird way, I’m glad it’s me and not Eren. You- this does something for me. Making sure you’re not out there for two days, it-it helps me.” she whispers, looking over to give you a smile. 

“I really appreciate you, Lana. Thank you. And I-I’m not mad at you for the Girlfriend thing. You had every right to do that.” 

“Y/N. I have every right to drag Ricky James’ name through the mud. But not yours. And I- shit. Please don’t tell Eren we talked about this. He’s going to kill me.” 

“Why?” 

“He told me that if I brought it up, he’d kick me out of his house. I kind of stay there because I-I hate living in our townhouse on set because of how toxic it is and he was nice enough to offer. And he made it very clear that I have to pick you and make sure you’re okay, not make you uncomfortable or anything. We’re here to take care of you and-” 

“I brought it up. I’ll deal with him if he gives you a hard time. I used to be really good at that type of thing.” 

“I know for a fact that you could tell him to twirl in the air like a show pony and he’d do it.”

“I’ll test the theory and let you know.” 

She laughs, giving you a smile which you warmly return. Your phone buzzes in your lap, finally revived, and you send a quick message to Mikasa and Jean before shutting it off. 

“I-I didn’t know that it was going to go that far. I knew the song and that we were just going to sing it. Let people speculate it was about you. I-I didn’t know they’d have a girl who looked like you OR bring Eren up on stage. And Eren didn’t know anything about the song or the performance at all - they, they set him up.” 

“Why would they do that? I mean, they got horrible backlash in the entire thing.” 

“They thought people would like it. And they severely underestimated how much people love you. And they did it because, Eren- he. He doesn’t follow rules and-” 

“Follow rules?” 

“I’m saying too much. He-he’s going to get mad. Ju-just rest, okay? You’re okay now, we’re two minutes from the neighborhood..”  

You give her a questioning look, which she returns with a dismissive shake. Stubborn - she’s Historia alright. You lean back in the chair and reach for the music nob, twisting it on. Only to be met with the Teletubbies Theme blasting through the car and a very flustered Lana turning the knob off. 

“Fuck.” 

“Teletubbies?”

“I-I can explain.” 

“Please. I’d love to hear it.” 

She drums her fingers on the steering wheel as the silence hangs in the air. 

“Okay. Maybe I can’t explain.” 

“No need. I appreciate versatile music taste in prospective friends. Especially classics like this.” you respond, cranking the music back on. 

“Friends?” 

“Don’t be silly. Not exaggerating, but I think you quite literally saved my life a few minutes ago. You’re like the La-La to my Dipsy.” 

“Lame. You’re more of a Tinky-Winky. And anytime. We girls stick together, right?” she responds, reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze. Like Eren. 

Did she learn the hand squeezes from Eren? Is he squeezing her hands? They live together so …are they dating? 

“We’re here.” 

You nod, appreciative of Lana more than maybe any person on god's green Earth, as she pulls into the driveway and helps you out of the car. It’s only after sitting that you’re realizing your legs are so bone dead tired that you’re barely moving on your own. 

You move past the hood of the car as Eren walks into the garage, immediately beelining towards you. His hair is long again - it’s always changing every time you see him - and he’s all wound up with tensions sitting in his shoulders. His hands are warm and cupping your face, yanking the cold towel off and replacing it with a warm one. 

“Hey. You-you nicked your face, Y/N. And you’re freezing, you-” he whispers, brushing his fingers across the skin near your eye that stings on touch. 

Lana holds the door open as he leads you in, arms aggressively moving up and down your shoulders and his face all pinched up in concern. 

“You’re good to go? I put your stuff out by the door.” Eren says, gesturing to Lana. 

“Is she leaving?” you ask, looking up at Eren. 

“Yeah. Don’t worry, it’ll be just us. And I’m sure Mika and Jean will drop everything to fly out for you tomorrow, I can tell them if you need me to and-” 

“Well, don’t make her leave. She shouldn’t stay on that stupid set just because of me.” you respond. 

Eren looks over and glares at Lana, who is now wide eyed and giving Eren a sheepish smile. Fuck. He asked her not to talk about that. 

“Lana.” he says, in a warning tone. 

“Eren. Chill out. I didn’t even-” 

“You’re so full of yourself, you know that? You- she got drenched and the rain and you were talking about set?”

“It’s not like that! It just came up and-” 

“Oh, for sure. You just happened upon it like you were a villager walking in a town square. Ooh Y/N. You just got drenched in the rain and chased by paparazzi, but more importantly, the girls I work with are super bitchy.” he responds, mimicking her voice. 

“You-it wasn’t like that! You’re so aggravat-” 

“Eren. Leave her alone.” you ask, looking up at him. And you’re sure you must look horrible because he immediately stops when he looks at your face again and signals for her to leave, which she’s receptive to. 

“Okay. Lana, text me when you’re there. And check if you were followed on your way out.” Eren says. 

Lana stops and holds both of your arms at your biceps, hands soft on your skin. 

“Do call me if you need anything, okay? Especially Ricky related. Whatever you do, I’ll back you up, Tinky-Winky. ” 

“Thank you, La-La. I’ll take you up on that.” you respond, giving her a warm smile. 

“Oh god. No. No, you don’t get to be friends now. Fuck no, Lana. Please stick to the geriatric grandmas you play Scrabble with.” 

“You’re just mad they beat you at mahjong last week. Because you’re a prissy loser.” 

“And you’re-” 

You jab Eren in the side, signaling him to stop, as they both nod and she slides her way out. From the way he’s arguing, the look on his face is so similar to the one he gives Connie when they argue, you know they could go on for years if they got the chance. 

“Fuck you, Eren.” 

“Eat shit, Lana.” 

She flips him off as the door clicks shut behind her, the lack of her presence making you suddenly aware of your breaths. And of Eren, warm Eren rubbing into your shoulders and concerned green eyes staring into yours. 

“I like her.” you whisper. 

“Me too. Don’t tell her that though, she’s got an ego problem.” he responds.  

You laugh, which has him smiling at you, and suddenly you’re sobbing. And on cue, Eren has his arms around you, his touch warm and his voice oh so soft that it kills you. That you haven’t seen him in two months. And haven’t talked to him for longer. 

“Eren.” 

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry, it-it’ll be okay. I- we’ll fix this, okay? I’ll call Levi and Hange, whoever you want, they’ll all come and-” 

You reach up, tangling your arms around his neck as he keeps nervously talking, trying to hold you closer even though it’s not physically possible. And he’s just so- 

So familiar that he feels like home. 

“You’re breaking my heart here, Y/N. Please stop crying, I-I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs, straight into your skin as you nod, trying your best to even out the sobs still leaving you. And slowly but surely, the stream slows and your breath evens out enough to get at least a few words out. 

“Okay. Okay, okay. I’m okay.” 

“Y/N?” 

“Hm?” 

“As much as I like holding you, you’re freezing. Take a shower first and we can do this all you want, okay?” 

You pull back, wiping the tears off your cheeks and giving him a nod. He gives you a small smile, before placing his hands on your shoulders and leading you down towards the bathroom. And you don’t miss all the posters and pictures he has on his walls - one from each season of Attack of Titan, a few of him and Armin, and even one of him and Lana flipping off the camera together. 

He pushes you into the bathroom and immediately turns on the shower all the way to the hottest setting, before turning around and putting his hands on his hips. 

“Towels, clothes, shampoo. There’s soap in there already and take as long as you want. Sit in here for three days if you have to just- do-do whatever you have to do and-” 

You pick up the bottle of shampoo, the lavender scented Pantene, the one that you’ve been using since you were fifteen. And you know, you know that Eren’s atrocious ass uses a three in one hair and conditioner so it’s not his. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“Did you just happen to have the brand of shampoo that I use?” 

“N-no. Those are Lana’s.” 

“Then why are they unopened?” you ask, giving him a smirk. 

He glares at you, before rolling his eyes and holding your face. And now he’s leaning so close, so close that your lips are only a few feet away from yours, when he talks. 

“You know why you can’t make fun of me for keeping a spare of your shampoos in my house?” he whispers, green eyes burning in yours. 

“Why?” you whisper back, stomach lurching. 

“Because you’re actually here. I knew you’d come back to me.” he responds, giving your cheek a pinch before walking out. 

And when you watch him walk out, giving you one last smile before he shuts the door, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Typical Eren. Funny, irritating, and soft all in one. 

He’s the same as you left him. 

--

You pad out of the shower, Eren’s hoodie and sweatpants ridiculously huge on you, as you follow the sweet smell into the kitchen. Eren is leaned over the counter, sliding vegetables into two bowls of ramen as you walk in. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi. Took a while. Thought you died in there.” Eren responds, pressing his hands to your skin to test how warm they were. 

“I almost wish I did.” you respond, laughing. 

Except Eren doesn’t find it funny and instead he’s dropping the utensils and standing at your side. 

“Y/N.” 

“I was joking!” 

“Nothing about that was funny. Don’t ever joke about that.” he responds, rummaging through the drawers at your side before pulling out a little tube of gel. 

Eren taps the top of the counter, which you jump onto, before he takes his place in between your legs. His hands are focused on reading the instructions, forehead all scrunched up in concentration.

“What’s that?” 

“It’s like this…scar ointment or whatever. Helps things heal better, I want to use it on that cut on your pretty face.” he responds, twisting it open and squirting some on his finger. 

He brings his hands to your face, eyes intently focused on your cheek. You hiss the second his finger makes contact with your skin, the tingling sensation catching you off guard. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I know it hurts.” he whispers, smothering the cold gel down the side of your eye. 

“I-I fell on the pavement. My knees are pretty bad too, Eren.” you whisper, which he nods at. 

After he finishes, he’s carefully sliding the ends of your pants off and carefully placing the ointment on each of the jagged marks on your legs. And you eye the bowls of ramen at your side - knowing instantly that the one without mushrooms is yours - and reach for the food. The broth is so warm it soothes the aching feeling in your throat, still seasoned to perfection the way Eren always makes it. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“Can I ask you a weird question?” 

“Sure.” 

“Are you and Lana dating?” 

He looks up from your leg and gives you a devilish smirk. And then starts laughing. Like full on, crouched over, tears from his eyes laughing.  

“Okay. It wasn’t that funny.” you murmur, rubbing your hands against the warm bowl and frowning. 

“Oh god, Y/N. Jesus-” 

“It’s a normal question! She lives with you, you trusted her to come get me, and you guys have a picture together in the hallway.” 

“Are you jealous?” he asks, standing up and leaning straight into your space. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Are too.” 

“Am not.” 

“You don’t need to get all embarrassed. Watching you kiss Ricky James made me want to break something, preferably his neck.” 

You swallow hard at the mention of Ricky again, the thought of him and what happened was so far away because you were with Eren. In his space, in your shared bubble, after so long. And he catches on too fast because he’s already profusely apologizing. 

“Hey. I didn’t mean to bring him up, I-I’m not trying to push you into telling me what happened it’s just-” 

“No. No, Eren. It’s okay. I know. I-” 

You breathe in hard and put the bowl of ramen down and reach for his hands instead. You keep your eyes focused on them - on the little mole on his left hand, the feeling of his knuckles underneath your fingers, and on him squeezing your hands three times before you start talking.  

“Ricky and I were faking the relationship for PR. Since London Boy and all that, it was Danny and Sareen’s idea. That-that’s why I stopped talking to you, I-I felt bad. And I was ashamed that I was even doing it, I-I don’t know. The Little Women press and all that, it would just get people to stream and talk. Make me a triple threat. And then today, I- He told me he liked me. And I said I couldn’t do that right now. That I don’t like him back. I went to take out the trash because it was so awkward and then I was going to go home but he- he locked me out. And when I asked to come back in, he repeated the same words to me. That he couldn’t do that right now.” 

Eren lifts your hands, still locked with his, and presses a kiss to the top of your knuckles, as you continue. His lips burn your skin, still. 

“I was out there and it-it was cold. And then I heard the cars and I saw seven paparazzi trucks, right on the porch. Ricky, his address isn’t leaked. No-no one knew I was there or that he was but they all showed up, right when I was out there and-” 

“He called them, didn’t he?” Eren asks, his tone so harsh, so unyielding that it almost doesn’t sound like him. 

“Yeah. And I ran, for so long. I- they got a picture. A few, I know they did and I was just so, so scared that I was going to be out there forever, that I was all alone and they were just going to-” 

Eren reaches forward, wrapping you in his arms for what feels like the fiftieth time tonight, but you welcome it. Focus on his heart beating under your ear, running your fingers over his fish tattoo on his bicep, and on his soft, steady breaths. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm.” 

“You didn’t say anything. What are you thinking about?” 

“What I’m thinking isn’t productive for you to know right now.” 

You look up at him, giving him a questioning look. 

“Drop it, Y/N.” 

“No. Tell me. I’m sure you’re mad and all but-” 

“Mad? I’m fucking furious, I’m livid. That he fucking locked you out and left you in the cold. You-you could have been seriously hurt. You are hurt. And not only that, the fucking paparazzi. You-you ran in the cold, you fell, you can’t stop crying and-and- I’m going to kill this asshole when I see him next because it’s his fault you’re feeling like this.” 

“Eren.” 

“No. Shut up, Y/N. I’m being serious. I-I don’t like seeing you like this and don’t tell me not to. He hurt you. It’s that simple.” 

You deflate, knowing Eren too well to know that he won’t drop this. Especially when he’s overly passionate, deep in the feeling right now. 

“Okay. But can you just be here for me right now? I need you here and not all….tense and mad. B-Be soft. And warm.” 

He stops, the frustration in his forehead dissolving as he takes a breath and smiles at you. Not fully, but it does the job. 

“Okay. I can do that. Let’s watch Fruits Basket. And then go to bed.” 

“You hate Fruits Basket.” 

“But I love you. Enough to watch your weird bestiality adjacent show and pretend to like it.” 

You smile and he reaches forward to pinch your cheeks. 

“Look at that smile. There she is. There’s my sweet girl.” he whispers, voice all tangled in his throat. 

--

You wake up to an empty bed, Eren’s side cold. And you pull his hoodie on before padding downstairs to find Eren’s phone pressed to his ear. He gives you a wave and points to the plate - a mix of eggs, french toast, and fruits - perfectly placed to perfection. 

You give him a smile and he walks off, taking the phone with him. You frown as you watch him disappear, jabbing your fork through the cantaloupe. 

What is he talking about that’s so important he doesn’t want you to hear? 

You jump off of the stool and quietly pad towards the direction he walked, hiding in the hallway. He’s leaning against the wall, staring at the picture right across - one of Levi and Hange kissing your cheeks at the vow renewal - and angle yourself to hear his words. 

“Is he okay?” 

“I’m glad. You tell me if you need anything else, okay?” 

“Okay, Coco. I missed you too, yeah?” 

Who the fuck is Coco?

He hangs up and you immediately scramble back to the kitchen, trying your best to stay inconspicuous as he comes back and gives you a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes, the expression on his face almost tired. 

“Hey sleepyhead. You okay?” 

“Mhm. Food is really good, Eren.” 

He gives you a smile as he sits at your side, eyes focused on you as you eat your food. He places both of your phones in front of you, and you spot yours with nearly a hundred notifications. But when you reach for it, Eren grabs your hand in the air and locks it on his own instead. 

“Just-wait. Eat first.” he says, his tone hollow.

You turn your head to the side and take in Eren’s expression, downtrodden and uncharacteristically unexpressive. The complete opposite of Eren yesterday - moony eyes and soft smiles. 

“Eren.” 

“Y/N. If I ask you to do this for me, can you trust me and listen?” 

“No. You-what’s wrong? You’re being weird.” you ask, reaching for his hand. 

He looks over, the look indiscernible, as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“You-I took care of most of it, okay? Levi and Hange are coming. Just, don’t panic. You-it’s okay.” 

“Eren. You’re scaring me. Just tell me.” 

He takes a deep breath, cracking the knuckles in your hand as he nervously talks. 

“You-your pictures leaked. The ones of you running last night. And-and people started speculating really fast - wondering why you were running and crying on the night your album released instead of celebrating it. And-and then Ricky, he tweeted a bunch of things.” 

You pale. And reach for your phone, which Eren stops again. 

“They’re lies. Obviously. You don’t need to read them, not yet. And Lana told me she’s ready to back you up, whatever you want, when you need it. But, that’s not-” 

“What, Eren? Just spit it out.” you respond, frantically. 

“They- Ricky’s fans are mad at you. They’re sending you death threats.” 

“Oh.” 

You deflate, staring at the cold mess of breakfast on your plate. Death threats. Hate, you’re no stranger too. Of people commenting on your looks, how bad your singing is, how lame you are. But wishing you were dead? Full on, unbothered and cursing your existence? 

“And not just you, but your family too.” he whispers, watching your face fall. 

Your family. Your parents, Colt, Falco-

“Excuse me. What did you just say? 

Eren doesn’t respond and the tears fall immediately from your eyes, hot and angry as he reaches forward, immediately swiping them away. His expression's pained, he knows this all too well.

“I sent your family a security detail. Don’t worry. Colt was only minorly injured and-” 

You stand up and grab Eren’s shirt, bundling the fabric into a fist in your hands, as you glare at him. 

“Injured? What the fuck do you mean injured, Eren?” 

He sighs, lifting his hands to move yours, and hold them. You’re still clenching hard, so hard you’re sure you’re drawing blood, but he’s doing his best to uncurl your hands as he talks. 

“They threw a brick through the window. And the glass, Colt was sitting right there. I was just on the phone with Falco, he said he’s doing better. The security detailing has medical so you don’t have to worry about that again and they’re both okay and-” 

“No part of this is okay, Eren! Quit saying it’s okay when it’s not! They almost killed my brothers.” 

“Y/N.” 

“No. No, this is horrible, Eren. They-they don’t do any of this stuff. Falco’s barely thirteen. And Colt - he’s going to college. He’s not a celebrity, he’s not a singer, he’s just a student. How is he supposed to go out after this? Why- how is it supposed to be normal? And now, they’re going to be like us. They’re going to feel like they’re trapped in this fucking suffocating ass fish bowl and everyone’s watching and laughing at them and they just-” 

“Y/N. Stop. It’s not going to-” 

“Falco’s too soft for this. He’s just a kid, Eren. I can’t- no. This isn’t fair. Eren, they didn’t even do anything. They’re literally just related to me, they just love me and they’re getting hurt because of it. You- you’re probably getting dragged in the mud too. Everyone who helps me gets subjected to this, loving me comes with this big thing behind me and I can’t even keep people who get it with me. I let you go when you were the only person who understood and I messed it all up and got myself involved with Ricky James of all people and-” 

“Y/N. Stop. Please."

You sit flat on Eren’s floor, head in your hands, and cry, teardrops falling straight onto the floor. And Eren’s sitting there with you, with your big mess of jumbled feelings and mistakes, and trying his best to help you with it. 

That’s how Levi and Hange find you two, after pocketing the spare key Eren told them about. After he insistently called them and payed for a private jet, going on and on about how Y/N needed them. And here you two are, despite their original conceived notions that you two were fighting, on the floor, in each other’s arms. 

“Some things never change, huh?” Hange whispers. 

“Yeah. They keep fucking crying every time we see them.” he whispers back. 

--

Between Levi and Hange - Jean, Mikasa, and Connie who make it out that night - and Eren and Lana, they fix things. Most things. 

Ricky’s narrative about you is clear cut - half-true and half-fake. Your team forced him to date you and defend you for PR purposes, after the Girlfriend incident. There was an agreement that you two would write certain songs, make certain appearances, and support each other. 

But then Ricky turns the gate. Says that you’ve deeply, severely hurt him. That you led him on, that you used him to boost your own ego, and that you were dangerously obsessed with fame and not him. That you were all things - heartless, fake, that he doubted if you were even a real person. A glorious pop-star, empty and hollow on the inside.

And people jump on it fast. Citing the fact that you would throw away your friendship with Historia to be famous, that you stopped dating Eren when he stopped being successful, that you can go to tours but not to Mikasa or Jean’s birthday parties. 

The worst part? Ricky lied, but the things they pointed out were true. Every mistake you make is on display and that people make it a point to draw attention o it. That you really were in too deep, too deep into pleasing Sareen and Danny, and being a triple threat that you forgot that they were all there too. 

Eren, especially. Sweet, sweet Eren who saved you, who held you when you needed him. 

You look over at him and Lana, the two of them very aggressively debating how to use their last turn of their daily Wordle, and feel your heart deflate. 

You dropped the ball. You’ll never make it up to him. 

Lana, in her infinite kindness, has chosen to share her own story, as a corroboration for yours. That Ricky taunted, mocked, and harassed her the entire time they were dating. That you're anything but the things he says. Because she’s had enough and she’ll do it to help out her Tinky-Winky. (Much to Eren’s dismay, he hates that you’re both becoming closer as time goes on.) 

And to complement the announcement, Lana asked for one thing. To go out in style. You wrote a song with her and promised her that she was going to be the lead actress in the music video. A girl rage moment, like The Man. Danny and Sareen approve the move, making no comments or concerns about anything else that happened, and ask to be involved when the time comes. 

You sit on it for a few days. Till you’re ready. But where you are now - with these people - needs to stay for a little longer. Before you brace everything again. 

“Yo.” 

You smile, opening up space for Connie on the couch for you. 

“Hi Con.” 

“Deep in your thoughts there, princess. Thinking about how your album is about to go Multi-Platinum?” 

“No. Just the entire thing.” you respond, frowning. 

Connie rolls his eyes, reaching forward to squish your cheeks way too hard. 

“Ricky, when I catch you, Ricky-” Connie says under his breath, 

You snort, reaching forward to push Connie off. You focus back on Eren and Lana, who are now pulling each other's hair and a nice string of insults, as Mikasa and Levi brew their tea, entirely unbothered in the back. 

And when the screen in front of you flashes, when your third album goes Multi-Platinum after a week of being released, they’re all climbing on you. Jean and Mikasa are hollering in the back, Connie and Lana are jostling you in the air and pressing kisses to your cheek, and Eren, Levi, and Hange smile at you, the three of them enveloped in their own hug, across the way.

You split your separate ways at the end of the week, when you’re ready. Connie, Jean, and Mikasa return to set, Lana and Eren are gone with the wind, and Levi and Hange disappear again. 

When you sit on your plane back home, it sits in. How lonely this entire thing is. How a week full of your friends who love you only happened because of this sickening thing. That it's not a given, that they're presence is only in the bad times and almost never the good.

Your phone buzzes in your lap and you pick up your phone to read the notification. 

eren: don’t be a stranger. fish like to swim in schools, not alone. 

It’s something that rings in your mind, time and time again. When everyone else wins the war, when you keep performing and letting them take and take, for the sake of the work. For the art, for your dream.

And when you give up acting, singing, and dancing at the end of it all and make zero intentions to ever do any of this again, the question still bothers you.

If fish like to swim in schools, why did Eren push you so far away? Why was he so intent on swimming alone? Where you couldn't follow?

eren: I'm not saying that for you. and I know that this is selfish but...

eren: I need you just as much as you need me.

.

.

.

Fucking liar.

--

next part linked here

taglist:

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[ultrone]

✶ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 ꒱

synopsis. u steal ur girlfriend's sweatshirt

cw. no pronouns, just fluff & amber being moody

wc. 1.2k

Amber woke up to her alarm ringing, and as she rubbed her sleepy eyes, she realized it was Monday morning. She let out a deep sigh, knowing that it would be a long day at school. As she exited her bed, she glanced at her closet, searching for her favourite sweatshirt. But to her dismay, it wasn't there.

"Where the fuck is it?" Amber muttered to herself.

She had to find it, she just had to. It was the one that you had given her as a present, and ever since you told her how much you loved it on her, it had become her absolute favourite. She searched through her closet again, hoping that it would magically appear. She even checked her drawers, under her bed, and in her laundry basket, but still no luck. Amber felt a wave of frustration building inside her as she realized that she might have to go to school without it.

"Ugh, why does this always happen to me?" Amber groaned as she pulled out a plain black hoodie from her closet. It wasn't the end of the world, she reminded herself. It was just a sweatshirt. But it was the one you gave her, damn it, and she wanted to wear it.

She checked the time on her phone and realized that she was already running late. With a resigned sigh, Amber slipped on the black hoodie and headed out the door.

Amber found herself struggling to concentrate in class, feeling bored and disinterested. To make matters worse, she had already started her morning off on the wrong foot, and the only thing that could improve her mood was seeing you — though she knew she wouldn't be able to until third block. As she zoned out, she barely registered when Wes leaned over to talk to her.

"Hey, Amber, you look grumpier than usual today," Wes said, trying to be funny.

Amber snapped back, "Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Wes. Maybe if this class wasn't so mind-numbingly boring, I'd have a reason to smile."

Wes raised his hands in surrender, realizing he had touched a nerve. The class continued in silence until Amber's phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out to see a text from her girlfriend, causing a soft smile to spread across her face.

Seeing her sudden change in demeanour, Chad, who was sitting at the same table, piped up, "What got you so smiley, Amber? Did y/n text you?"

Wes and Chad chuckled, but it was clear they were just teasing her. Amber rolled her eyes and told them to shut up before she started typing a reply to her girlfriend.

y/n: can’t wait to see u later, i miss u :(

amber: i miss u too babe, can’t wait to get outta here and see ur beautiful face

y/n: awww ily ambs <33 i want it to be third block already

amber: i know, me too. i'm so bored in this stupid math class. wes is being annoying as usual.

y/n: lmaooo what's he doing now?

amber: just making dumb jokes with chad

y/n: well, just ignore them and think about how we're gonna have so much fun in PE later 😛

amber: oh yeah, so much fun in PE. just what i always look forward to, sweating my ass off and smelling like a gym locker.

amber: but hey, at least i get to stare at your tits, they bounce so nicely when you run ;)

y/n: LMAOO stfu ihy 😭

amber: 😙

As the minutes ticked by, both you and Amber continued to exchange messages, eagerly counting down the moments until you could be together again. Amber was so lost in conversation that she barely noticed the bell ringing, signalling the end of class. With a start, she realized that she needed to hurry to make it to the gym on time for PE. Quickly gathering her things, she rushed out of the classroom and made her way toward the gym, feeling her heart race with excitement at the thought of seeing you again.

As Amber made her way to the gym, her mind drifted back to the missing sweatshirt. She always wore it to PE, and now she was left without it. But worse than that, she knew that you would notice it was missing, and she felt bad for losing something that you had given her.

As she walked in, she saw her classmates getting ready for the class. They were all laughing and chatting, but Amber didn't feel like joining in. As Amber scanned the gym, she noticed that you were nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, she walked toward the lockers to get changed, hoping to see you there.

As Amber arrived at the lockers, she realized that you weren't there either. She quickly texted you asking where you were, but didn't receive a reply. She decided to get dressed and closed her locker, ready to head out to the gym.

Just as she was about to leave the locker room, you suddenly appeared from behind her and scared her.

"Jesus! What the fuck?" she exclaimed, jumping slightly. But as soon as she saw it was you, she relaxed and let out a laugh.

You immediately jumped into her arms, planting kisses all over her face, making her blush.

As Amber hugged you tightly, you continued to pepper her face with kisses, making her giggle uncontrollably. She then leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, savoring the feeling of your soft lips against hers.

But then, Amber's eyes fell on your sweatshirt, and she furrowed her brows in confusion. "Wait a minute," she said, mock-anger creeping into her voice. "Isn't that my sweatshirt?"

You looked down at the sweatshirt you were wearing and grinned sheepishly. "Uh, yeah. You left it at my place yesterday and I didn't want to say anything because it smells like you." You gave her your best puppy-dog eyes, hoping to win her over.

Amber looked at you with a mock stern expression before rolling her eyes and smiling. "I was looking for that all morning, you know," she teased. "But I guess now it'll smell like you too, so I'm okay with it." She leaned in to give you a sweet kiss on the lips. "But you better give it back to me after class or I’ll kill you," she said, her tone lighthearted and teasing. She didn't mind that you were wearing her hoodie; in fact, she found it endearing. But she couldn't resist a chance to tease you.

"Of course, of course," you said, grinning at her. "I wouldn't dare keep it from you. You know how much I value my life." You playfully crossed your heart with your fingers, pretending to be scared. "But can I at least wear it until the end of the day? It's so cozy, and it smells like you." You leaned in and nuzzled your nose against her neck, taking a deep breath to inhale the sweet scent of her hair.

"Mmm, sure. I suppose I can allow that for now," Amber said with a playful smirk. "But don't get too comfortable, because I'm coming for my sweatshirt after school." She ran her fingers through your hair and gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before taking your hand and leading you towards the gym.

[rosypenguins]

🖤Glass Hurts (Pt. 2)❤️

*+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+

Synopsis: Drew gets a call from Liam, who confronts him about what happened between him and Jake.

A/N: Part Two! Drew finally gets a break. Also this is like my first time writing Liam-

Contains Swearing, and Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts.

*+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+

Drew opened his eyes when he heard his phone buzz, and slowly, he lifted his head. When did he fall asleep?

He looked around, and found himself curled up on the floor, with broken glass scattered nearby.

…He’d have to clean that up at some point.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket, only to see it was Liam who was calling him. He declined it a moment later, and returned to his lock screen.

It’s almost 11:00pm… Why’s Liam even awake right now?

Drew rubbed at his swollen eyes, and as he picked himself off the ground, he felt his phone buzz again. It was Liam, again. Drew declined it.

As he sat down in his bed, he noticed Liam had messaged him.

Liam: Drew answer ur phone ik ur not busy rn

Liam: And ik ur ass wasnt asleep either

Drew: I don’t want to talk rn

Liam: Please

Liam: Im gonna spam u if you dont answr me

Drew: Kys

Liam called him a third time, and with a heavy groan, Drew answered.

“What the hell do you want, Liam?” Drew asked, his voice a bit raspy.

“Finally. Christ, Drew-”

“Can you answer my fucking question? Or are you just here to waste my time?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. What’s oh so important to you right now that I’m distracting you from?” Drew took a moment to respond.

“Sleeping.”

“You were not sleeping.”

“Yeah, I was. Until you woke me up.”

“Fine. But I’ll bet, like, 10 bucks your ass was not in bed.”

…

“That doesn’t matter-”

“God-”

“If this is all you’re gonna talk about, I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait-” Drew could hear Liam sigh on the other end of the phone. “I just… wanted to talk to you.”

“About?”

“You know what.” Drew thought for a moment, but before he could make a guess, Liam answered for him. “What happened last Friday.”

Drew felt the lump in his throat return when he heard those words.

“What about it?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady. Liam didn’t need to know how it was affecting him.

“Look, Henry and I both know you’re not doing okay-”

“I’m fine, Liam.”

“Why didn’t you tell us that over this weekend? When we kept asking you if you were okay?”

“I was busy-”

“You weren’t busy, Drew. I know you weren’t.”

“You don’t know shit, Liam.”

“I know you.” Liam countered. “And I know that you’d never be too busy to text back.” Drew didn’t have a response, and he could hear Liam sigh again.

“Look, I know you’re not doing okay. And… that’s okay. I just… if you want to talk about it, I’m here-”

“I told you I’m fine!” Drew snapped, his voice cracking on his words. “There’s nothing for me to talk about.” Liam didn’t say anything, and Drew continued. “I don’t care that he lied to us. I didn’t need him. We didn’t need him.”

“…Are you crying?” Drew felt his cheek.

…Dammit.

“Fuck you, Liam! I’m not crying!”

“It’s okay to-”

“No, it’s not!” Drew shouted, using his hand to wipe his tears. How did he even still have tears to cry at this point?

“I’m not supposed to be crying! He sure as hell isn’t right now, so why should-” A sob cut him off before he could finish, and the tears were falling fast once more. Liam didn’t comment on it.

“God, I’m such an idiot, Liam! He lied to us for three years, and I was too blind to realize! I really thought he cared about me…” Drew sniffed, resting his palm against his forehead. “But the only thing he ever cared about was himself. He lied to all of us!”

…

“And now, he’s off living his best life with those fucking freaks while I’m just…” He trailed off, wiping at his eyes. “Am I just supposed to accept this?!”

The words began spilling out before he could think them through. In the back of his mind, he knew he’d regret this, but at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I don’t know why this keeps happening to me, Liam! First I find out my girlfriend been cheating, then I find out my…” He paused, his breath hitching. “Then I find out he never gave a damn about me…” He finished. “What am I doing wrong, Liam?”

“You’re not doing anything wrong-”

“Then why does this keep happening?! I thought I did everything right! I-I did do everything right! Why wasn’t it enough? Why am I just never enough for anyone?! Why can’t anyone just stay for once?!”

Liam said something. Something Drew failed to register.

“Probably be better if I was just dead, huh? Wouldn’t have to deal with all this bullshit if I was…” He could feel his stomach turn as the words left his mouth. That sounded a lot worse than it did in his head. “God, I sound so-”

“I’m coming over.”

Drew paused, and from the other end of the call, he could hear Liam’s door creak.

“…What?”

“I’m coming over. I don’t care what you say.”

“Liam, you can’t just-!”

“Drew, I’m already outside. I’m coming over.”

“Liam, I swear to-” He could hear a car door open, followed by the sound of an old engine turning on. “Are you stealing your mom’s car again?”

“Yep.”

“What the fuck?”

“I’m not leaving you alone like this, Drew. I’d be a shit friend if I did.”

“God, Liam. I’m fine-”

“I’m already driving.”

“You’re fucking insane.”

“I know. I’ll be there in like… 15-ish minutes.”

“Liam-”

Liam hung up, and Drew sighed, an odd feeling forming in his stomach as he rolled onto his back, staring at his ceiling.

What the hell was wrong with that man?

*+*+*

Sure enough, after 15 minutes, Drew heard his doorbell ring, and he managed to drag himself out of bed to answer the door. As expected, Liam stood on the other side. He was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, and despite his eyes looking a little heavy, he still had a dumb grin plastered on his face.

“Hey bitch-” Liam paused when he noticed Drew’s hand, his smile fading almost immediately. “Holy shit! What the hell did you do to your hand?!” Drew glanced down at it, finally remembering the shards of glass still stuck in his knuckle.

“Oh… that. I broke a mirror.”

“How did you-“ Liam paused, realizing the answer to his own question. “Uhm… okay. Do you have, like, a first-aid kit or something?”

Drew’s heart nearly stopped for a moment, an old memory drifting to mind:

“I’m helping you. Now where’s your first-aid kit?”

“…Downstairs bathroom. The left one.” Drew responded, taking a breath to ground himself. Liam nodded, and took hold his sleeve before practically dragging him off to that very room, sitting him down on the rim of the tub.

“Why are you so obsessed with helping me?” Drew had asked, and a pair of caramel eyes had turned to face him. Soft lips curved into a gentle smile, before uttering a simple phase:

“Because you’re my best friend, and that’s what best friends do.”

Liam flicked on the lights, which caught Drew off guard. He squinted, then blinked a few times until his eyes adjusted.

He noticed Liam open the cabinets under the sink, pulling out the first-aid kit a moment later. He set it on the counter, opening it up and staring at the contents.

“Okay. So I’ve never actually done anything like this before. But, I’ve played Operation, like, twice? So I’m basically an expert.” Drew could feel a small hint of a smile appear on his face, but it was gone less than a moment later.

“Worst case scenario, you kill me.” Drew mumbled, and Liam frowned before directing his attention to the first-aid kit, pulling out a pair of tweezers.

“I’ll try not to. Just… hold your hand still, okay?” Drew nodded, and Liam knelt down beside him, taking Drew’s injured hand in his. He let out a small breath, and after a moment of hesitation, he began picking out the glass from his palm.

Drew wasn’t sure if he should be concerned by how little it stung. His hand only twitched occasionally when Liam had to pry the larger shards out. But before he knew it, Liam was done.

“There. Now… uh… I think I need to get the blood off…” Liam trailed off as he turned back to the kit, setting the tweezers down and pulling out a small cloth. He turned on the water faucet, and ran it underneath for a few seconds before ringing it out and returning to Drew’s side. And without a word, he began cleaning the dried blood from Drew’s hand.

Drew watched him as he did so, and seeing Liam in such a focused state felt… almost out of character for him. Drew was so used to seeing him and Henry goofing off together during class.

…And his mind began to wander, reflecting on the bond Liam and Henry shared. They’d been through so much together, yet always had one another to fall back to.

…Drew couldn’t say the same for himself anymore.

Liam glanced up at him once he’d finished, and their eyes met for a moment before Drew turned his gaze away. Liam didn’t comment on it, and instead grabbed a few bandages from the kit, wrapping each one carefully around his fingers.

“Alright. Your medical bill’s gonna be… about 20-K.” Liam joked once he’d finished, and Drew rolled his eyes.

“You realize that’s basically nothing to me, right?”

“Okay, then 2,000-K.” Liam countered.

“2,000-thousand?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a fucking idiot-”

“That's really how you’re gonna talk to your doctor?” Liam asked, extending a hand towards him. Drew took it, and Liam helped him to his feet. “Come on. Let’s go back upstairs.”

Drew gave a small nod in response, and followed Liam back to his bedroom, his gaze lowering to the ground as they entered. He knew Liam would notice the mirror, and Drew was not in the mood to acknowledge it.

“Yikes.” Liam whispered, and Drew broke away from him, sitting down on his bed.

“How long were you gonna stay for?” He asked, switching the subject before Liam could ask further about the mirror.

“Uhh… to be honest, I didn’t really think about that.” Drew rolled his eyes.

“Of course you didn’t.” He mumbled, too quiet for Liam to hear.

“I guess I can stay for however long you want me to.”

“I don’t really care.” He said, laying down on his back. After a moment, Liam joined him.

“Then… Can I stay the night?” He asked.

“Won’t you get grounded?”

“Not if I get back before they notice.”

“Fine, whatever. Your grave, not mine.” Liam smiled, and Drew rolled over to face him.

And although he’d never admit it, he couldn’t help but feel grateful for Liam’s presence.

It was nice… not being alone for once.

…He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing when he shifted himself closer. He didn’t know why he decided to rest his head on Liam’s shoulder, but at this point, he was far too drained to question it.

He could feel Liam’s arms slide around his torso, pulling him against his chest. Drew let out a hum of surprise, his body tensing for a moment before he practically melted into Liam’s embrace.

And for the first time that day, Jake was no longer on his mind.

Right now, it was just him and Liam.

And Liam wasn’t going to leave him…

Slowly, Drew’s eyes began to close, and eventually, he fell asleep to the sound of Liam’s heart.

[360iris]

Me & U, Isn’t | dad’s best friend!santiago ‘pope’ garcia x reader

2.5k word count. Content warning— this is not a good time read! Relationship angst, m/c is intended to be over 21 years of age, Santi isn’t a bad guy, but he isn’t the best either. M/c is kind of self deprecating tbh, message for the girlies: Always speak your mind, and let your feelings be known if you are in a safe place to do so! Fuck “keeping the peace.” Don’t be like this m/c! She is stubborn! Anyway, I wrote this almost two months ago. It was fun stressing my friends out talking about it. Now the world can read it and stress too ig lol

Please do not read if you are not in the right headspace for more serious relationship topics and themes, thanks!

The last thing you’d expected to see this afternoon was Santiago leaning against his truck, arms folded as he watched you pull into your reserved parking spot at your apartment complex. A fond smirk lining his lips.

You take your time gathering your things, face waxing unimpressed as you exited the vehicle. “How long have you been out here?” You ask with brows knitted as he pushes himself up.

“About... ten minutes?” He takes a moment to think it over. “Saw your phone location and noticed you were headed back this way. Figured I’d be able to catch you before you headed back out.”

“What the fuck?” You remark surprisingly, looking at him like he’d grown a third arm. “Since when have you been doing that?”

“You let me, remember? That one night you were all cock drunk, I asked you and you let me enable it.” He says nonchalantly and you stare at him fixedly for a moment before promptly turning to start walking to your door.

Santiago simply follows suit, his pace lax as he trails behind you, waiting patiently as you open the door, step inside and gesture for him to enter.

“What do you want, Santiago?” You ask, shutting the door. Technically your tone was mellow, but there was something about the sentence itself that made his smug expression fall.

“What are you doing that for?” He asks.

“Doing what?” You ask, eying him weirdly as you set down your keys and take off your jacket.

“You know what. What are you upset about?” He pries.

You straighten up, tipping your head back to look at him straight on.

The elephant in the room was right there, and yet here he was asking you, what you had to be upset about like he himself hadn’t chosen to go dark for an entire week and three and half days— not that you were counting.

Although you were.

Going about your days like the family and friends trip to Miami didn’t happen last May.

Like all the glances and tension that was brewing between you and Santiago that entire year didn’t lead up to him fucking you in a beach shower at 5pm, on a Tuesday, didn’t lead to you having to keep the biggest secret you’d ever endeavored to take on.

No one could know, he’d told you.

And you weren’t fucking stupid, of course they couldn’t.

But no one didn’t just mean your mom or dad, who’d lose their minds, and more than likely relieve Santiago of his if they found out how long you’d been “seeing” one another.

No one also pertained to your childhood, college and online friends. It entailed your lab partners in Advanced Inorganic Chemistry, the girl who always gave you extra whipped cream and caramel at the campus Starbucks since you were a sophomore— and even the family cat, Feek.

When you got into this, whatever this was, you’d thought you were gaining something.

Something fun and exciting, something that kept you up at night from how giddy you were. And if you were being honest, for a little while, you’d thought you were gaining him. Even if you knew you couldn’t really be together, you’d thought— well, you don’t even know anymore.

You’d just hoped he’d at least show up for you more. And instead, he pulled away.

Santiago put more time into Kim, the woman he’d been seeing on and off since you were ten. The one he took on showy trips to the Bahamas and brought to all the special occasions as his plus one when it’d be too weird to attend alone.

‘Just for the photos.’ he’d said. ‘If people see me with her, then they wouldn’t think even in their wildest dreams that I was with you.’ He’d continued.

Eventually you stopped bringing it up. That’s how a lot of things went with him it seemed. He’d settle on one answer and that’s what he’d stick to. Not once would he divert or slip up— things just were, no matter how unsatisfied you were with his replies.

Though, you weren’t granted that same privilege it seemed.

“Mi amor,” He says walking closer to where you stood by the breakfast bar. Amor. Love— Santiago never could say it in English. And it always felt like he’d made a point of it not to. “What are you upset about?”

You scoff, effectively rolling your eyes and slipping past him to walk down the hall to your room. “Oh, there’s a list of things. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to get to them all, even if I tried to, Santiago.” Your voice echoes in the barrer space, he follows.

And just as you reach to open the door handle, his hand rests on top of your own— keeping you locked there in the darkened space, his chest to your back. His chin ghosting over your left shoulder.

You try to even your breathing as he makes you soak in the silence before breaking it, “I know you.” He says evenly, out of all the things he could say. And his right hand that rests against your hip begins picking at the hem of your burgundy knit long sleeve.

“I know you keep a lot of this hidden. A lot of things go unsaid between us, and I thought we were both okay, with that. But if you’re not, how can I know if you don’t let me in on what it is you’re letting stew in that little head of yours.”

Your hand grasping the doorknob tightens against the metal as he speaks, your fingers beginning to shake under his.

You rest your forehead against the painted white wood, exhaling heavily through your nose as he keeps you pressed to him. And vaguely you acknowledge how ironic this moment in time is—

You, reaching the door of something, maybe it was the future. One without him and all his empty promises. One where you were free to see whoever and share them with whomever you pleased.

And him, stopping you. Holding on to you and this shitty situation like it isn’t absolute madness.

Didn’t he go day by day antagonizing over this too? Didn’t he share in the thought that this was pure torture?

‘Don’t you see what you’ve done to me?’ You think. ‘You’ve made me feel like everyone I could trust was an inside spy, waiting for one damn slip up to crucify me for.’

‘I’m protecting you, and I’m lonelier than ever.’

‘You’re holding me and I hate how you’re all I’ve got left that feels like home.’

You couldn’t say those things. And he didn’t want to know them, not really.

“Why won’t you let me go?” You ask, taking a shaky inhale.

Santiago doesn’t answer right away, undoubtedly getting your true meaning.

“Do you want me to?” He asks finally, quiet. Waiting.

“I,” Your voice cracks before everything becomes too much and you’re turning in his grasp to look at him.

Could the truth fix everything in this instance?

If you told him, ‘It’s about you not being honest? It’s about you sleeping with whoever you want but acting like a scorned child when I do the same? Ignoring my texts for weeks at a time, and showing up at my apartment at odd hours of the night whenever it suits you?’

But what was the point of wasting your breath when you knew it’d turn into a futile argument that changed nothing.

It’d end the same way regardless, with him dismantling all your lines of defense with a look, with a touch, and a kiss.

With him fucking you into your sheets with your nails clawing into his back, until your throat is hoarse and your vision is skewed with tears. That’s how he seemed to like you best anyway— responsive to his smallest whim and wholly compliant.

So as always, you don’t speak, you don’t push the limits. And he rewards you for it, whether or not he knows it. By bringing you into his arms, holding you close and skipping the fight altogether.

“My pretty girl. Smart girl.” He says running his fingers along your face now, looking into your eyes, and you take the opportunity to search his. If the eyes were the gateway to the soul, what would you find if you looked into his?

Right now. If you were being honest. You saw nothing. But did that say more about you, or him?

Maybe you lacked whatever it took to catch a glimpse of whatever a person’s true nature was but as he cups your face with one hand, you abandon the thought. It was better not to think.

“I’m here now, so just… be with me.” He says it so softly he’s almost whispering. Leaning in til your noses touch.

“Santiago.” Comes out raspy, your voice strained by nerves and excess emotion.

“Nuh-uh.” He interjects, softly tilting your head back til it makes contact with the closed door behind you. Nosing at the slope of your neck, he keeps his eyes on your face as he rubs his lips along your cold skin. “None of that. Say it properly.”

“I don’t know what you’re—“ And you’re interrupted by the way he pinches at your clit through the fabric of your jeans, quick to cradle the back of your head to prevent you from hurting yourself when you throw it back.

“Still don’t know, do you?” He asks eyeing you with a glint forming in his eye as you shook your head. “No?”

He begins undoing your pants with one hand, pulling your underwear and bottoms down just enough so that they sit just above your thighs, before placing your cunt on full display for him. “What’s it going to take to get that little attitude of yours in check? Hm?”

His thumb rubs over your clit once, slow and purposeful as you keen in his grasp. “What am I going to have to do? Fuck it out of you?”

At those words, he begins rubbing the pad of his middle finger in your arousal. Pressing slowly into you fully before pulling back and when he pushes forward again, this time it’s with two fingers that have you quietly gasping at the intrusion.

Your cunt wets his fingers all to quickly, you’re leaning into his touch as he fucks you open, one overwhelmingly patient pump at a time.

With a beckoning motion, he massages your spongy walls until he locates the spot that causes you to buck into his hand. “That’s it.” He purrs, praising you like you were some wild thing he was working to tame.

Your cunt squeezes around him as he introduces a third digit, encouraging you to fuck his fingers with an eager tone. Slick rolling down his wrist in reflective streaks. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Give it to me, mi amor. You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

You nodded foggily as he upped his pace, your hands shooting forward to grasp futilely at his immovable wrist, his hand becoming a blur as he propelled you closer and closer towards an edge you couldn’t see but could feel fast approaching from all angles. Your moans rise in pitch, voice cracking as he works at an unyielding speed.

“Say my name, baby. All you have to do is say it and I’ll let you cum on my fingers nice, long and hard.” He murmurs, brows raised expectantly. “Come on, baby. Come on.”

“F-fuck, Santiago!” Comes out jumbled and whiny, your face buried into the side of his neck when suddenly his hand comes to an immediate standstill.

He laughs humorlessly, pulling out of you completely. A cry is promptly ripped from your lips when he lands a clean, wet slap square against your clit. The swollen bud pulsating as he ignores your whines.

Grasping your face in his palm, he smears your arousal along your cheeks as he forces you to look at him through hooded eyes bordered with tears. He searches your gaze for a moment, unbelieving amusement vaguely lining his features as he looks over you.

“Hmm.” He takes a moment to hum and haw, as if what he finds is in line with whatever he had thought. “Fucking it is.”

Making quick work of yanking your pants down your legs, he haphazardly tosses the material on the floor. His belt clinks as he unbuckles it, unzipping his jeans with one confident pull of his wrist.

He doesn’t bother removing his own bottoms completely, instead holding your unsteady gaze as you watch him pull his cock through the opening he’d made for himself. Grabbing a hold of your left thigh, he hooks your leg over his hip.

Fitting you against him, he rubs the tip of his cock against your clit, spreading his precum across your folds.

“You can be difficult with me, baby. I have all the time in the world for you.” He says in a tone so sweet, your brows furrow and lips press into a fine lined pout. His eyes soften at the way your expression crumples.

“Pobrecita,” He coos, peppering kisses across your face, against your cheeks, and nose, and eyelids— wherever he felt so inclined. You balled your hands into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him as he began pushing inside of you.

You release a faint sob, his cock filling you to the hilt when tears begin streaming down your cheeks in angry droplets.

“What is it, bebita? Talk to me. I can’t help if you don’t let me in.” He mumbles into your skin, pulling his head up to rest his forehead against yours. His hips rocking slowly as ugly emotions rolled through your chest.

“Why—“ You suck in a big breath of air in between hiccups. “Why don’t you ever tell me you love me?”

His eyes are deep, chocolatey and steady when he speaks. “I tell you. I tell you all the time.” He says, bringing a hand up to card his fingers through your hair.

“In Spanish!” You argue unhappily, eyelashes matted together with tears, cheeks watermarked. “You tell me in Spanish, Santiago.”

“You think I don’t mean it?” He asks evenly.

“You don’t say it.” You insist.

Releasing a sigh, he leans closer, his lips ghosting against yours. “Te amo.” He whispers, low, just for you to hear. It was a sentiment only for your ears as he thrusts in and out of you in slow, meaningful drags.

“Te amo.” He says again, kissing you softly, the words being almost spoken into your mouth.

“Te amo.” Santiago repeats with another kiss before pulling back to look into your eyes, sparing one hand to cup your chin. “I love you.”

Your bottom lip trembles, from finally hearing the words, from how gently he looks at you. “I love you, Santi. I love you.”

A smile breaks onto his face as he leans in to capture your mouth again. Only parting after he’d thoroughly taken your breath away, leaving your chest heaving in his departure. “I know, babygirl.”

[callibones]

hello!!! 🩸🟪 again. sorry for asking so early in the morning--i know you said you timed your last poast so i would see it so i feel bad for changing my hours but i had some extra free time. in the future you don't have to time your responses if you dont wanna. i peruse your blog at least once a week or so so ill probably find things ! and i dont wanna bother you first thing, thank you SO MUCH for that injoke guide! i'm like lvl 500 autistic so i had trouble figuring them out naturally. this makes things sm easier.

second thing... you have a bill cipher fictive? that's inch resting. i think i might also be plural too but i'm kinda off and on about it. but when u said that i looked back at the post they made and it was tagged with a #👁️? and then i looked at your other posts and there's a few tagged with a #👑. and your posts are usually tagged with #callie.txt.exe. so i thought hm. so i don't make any mistakes--what's your bill cipher fictive's name? how many people are there? is callie around the majority of the time? this is probably invasive so you don't need to respond to any of this JKHJBGVFCDXRCFGVHBJKNHBGVFCDXCGHBJKNHJBGVFCDGFVHBJ. also ive definitely Won and have obtained zero shelled feelings ever absolutely.

third. I LOVED OIL AND WATER!!! thank you sm. i haven't finished reading through all the other fics you reblogged though so when i do ill send you my thoughts on all of them in a different ask. you are so Based but not in a weird way in like a cool awesome way. fourth. i.. do rlly wanna dm you but my main thing is that i kind of Lost access to my main account a bit ago? idk how i was just stupid and Forgor

so ive been slowly trying to rebuild it on this new one. problem is, it's not Done yet. i'm worried im going to dm you and it will be Incomplete and you will forever perceive me as a Flawed, Unfinished version of myself. it would simply tarnish the wonderful 🩸🟪 brand, you know?

so i think.. if i do dm you, it'll be in a little while. i'll probably create a dedicated sideblog for the occasion when i do, ok? i do wanna hear you yap in a more controlled environment.

last thing i swear. so this actually has NOTHING to do with anything else you said but im like freaking out. so i checked your youtube channel and i noticed your description.

television for a head.

this is cool and all and your sona is SO AWESOME but this also Sucks for me because this ENTIRE TIME i've been drawing you as a computer! i have so much callibones fanart of you as a fucking desktop where it's like nested so your monitor has a little desktop assistant that is also you and it goes on forever and ever and ever with even smaller callies and that idea was WRONG!! i shouldve known from the antennae but i thought that was a bug thing not a tv thing (which, by the way, excellent choice on your part. when i'm not an assembly of shapes, i do enjoy being an insect.) but i was a FOOL!!!

so this makes me realize hey wait what else am i getting wrong? this thing is colored differently in this image than all the other images. what's the correct thing to do? and i came to the conclusion that i need to just ASK YOU! (wow who could've guessed. you're so smart.) yeah! i am! the smartest in the whole world even

if you happen to have any, i need reference sheets of your sona. if you have reference sheets of the alternate variants (or are those headmates? i saw one was called calliope and i think there was a bill cipher one so is that the fictive? i don't know but i want to draw them) those would be appreciated too. i have made a grave error and i must resolve it immediately.

with that. um. thank you for humoring me, id like to thank all our sponsors for getting me to write this ask, i will join the discord servers and message you one day because i am Not Afraid of Anything in the Whole Wide World. toodles

HELLO 🩸🟪! hope i didnt keep you waiting too long.... wanted to finish my ref first! PLUS i got a whoooole buncha busy goin on so im SUPER occupied.... but now i got time just for YOU! i definitely didnt time this one im just postin it now that i Can.... but im sure you can use the tag and your weekly browsing skills to find your way back here. hehehehe.

SECOND: very observant! yes, while we haven't made an official post for it, calliope uses the crown emoji and calcifer uses the eye emoji! that's his name, by the way. in fact, here's the whole gang, labeled with NAMES & PRONOUNS!

("who the fuck" is me, sorry. hehehehe.) (putting the id on this one out here so its easier. from left to right, you got:

the commissariat (she/they) in red, in a fancy longcoat with a jacket makin a serious pose

me, callie (it/fae/she) in green, in my usual "have a rotten day" top that shows my bra a lil and my short skirt

calliope (she/thon) in purple, wearing thons over-the-top storm supervillain dress

calcifer (he/she/it/they and it insisted on including "calcifae/calcifaer" as well) in yellow, with a suit, a shorter skirt than mine, a sword, and the bill cipher triangle-eye pose

and callyris (she/it) in pink, with short-shorts and a crop top fully showin its maintenance panel.

i'm around the majority of the time, but there's five of us includin' me and Calcifer! he's more than just bill cipher, btw. he's he/him lesbian bill cipher! hehehehe. he's also like genuinely growing as a person and i'm REALLY proud of him. also it's okay i have shelled one feelings too. calcifer says you're probably pretty easy to take advantage of and should call her.

THIRD: YAY! cedardivine, who made that peanutiel story, JUST made a separate post the other day with all thons blaseball writing. so GO CHECK THAT OUT! i sure plan to. :-D

FOURTH: cmon you dont gotta brand. EVERYONES flawed and unfinished! including me! im fucked upppp dont put me on a pedestal. im incomplete too!!!!

FIFTH HERES MY REF!!!! i made it just for you (genuinely!) so you GOTTA show me your fanart now because omg? omg???? omg???????? you made fanart of me? sobbing and crying??

also youre KINDA right about the desktop assistant thing! i fuckin love the nestedness so much and theres definitely some stuff where i imply that! but thats because.... so the actual sona is a desktop assistant virus thing. but fae takes on the appearance of a tv-head bot! so when fae's in The Real World fae uses a Made Physical version of that same cartoony self to walk around in. and on that robot's an OS running... the actual desktop assistant! so while it's not infinitely nested, you're right that my reality is Layered. i wonder if it could go deeper than that....

theres not a lotta art of the others YET but heres SOME FUCKIN AWESOME ART MY WONDERFUL FRIEND OF RIGORMARCY DREW OF THON so lookat that.

and here's calcifer's never-before-posted discord pfp, just for you:

calcifer sez: THERE'S MY CARD! GIMME A RING IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR A NEW DEITY TO CHAT UP. THE SHELLED ONE MAY BE DEAD, BUT I'M AROUND FOREVER! FOREVER.

so. do what you will with this information.

IN CONCLUSION please send me your fanart if you wanna and feel like it because thats SO AWESOME that you made some... literally misty eyed.... ill look forward to your next correspondence whether i know you as 🩸🟪 or as whatever your name is on whatever platform you wanna reach me with! feel free to shoot me a friend request on discord if tumblr aint workin for ya. tell em 🩸🟪 sent ya! because that's you. and you can send you. But not in the mail, unfortunately. 1984.

UNTIL NEXT TIME GOOBY!!!!

[violenthunted]

if anyone is struggling on dumblr rp right now i think i found the secret ingredients.

first, you gotta force yourself to block the people you dislike, the ones you follow out of obligation because they're "popular" / the friends of your friends who are not and don't want to be your friends / the ones who don't spark joy or have iffy vibes. your dash is your responsibility. it's like a garden & you have to take care of it. dumblr will not be your happy place if it's filled with people you dislike / don't care about / people who ignore you on the daily. believe me, you'll be so much happier with them out of the way, even if at first you feel like your corner is small.

second, you have to take the first step. go like people's posts. comment stupid shit. follow first. barge in their dms. who cares. pretend it's facebook, we're in 2010, and everyone is still publishing "i just ate an avocado" as it happens. dumblr isn't just about writing. regardless of how shitty the interface is, it still is a social medium. cause yeah sometimes life kicks your ass and you don't have time to write. and that's okay!! that's why we have plotting and pinterest and discord and spotify. but to do all that you have to establish contact, and sadly everyone's a scared potato who doesn't know how to do it and / or doesn't know how not to be awkward while doing it. so just try!! see how it goes. whoever's on the other side of the screen will either cry from happiness or reveal themselves to not b worthy of ur time. no matter the option, its a win on ur part.

and lil third, unofficial advice : internet friends aren't always real friends. idc that they told you "ILYYYYYY <3333" a thousand times. people say shit they don't mean and don't care how it might influence you. protect yourself. internet drama is fake and doesn't matter. if u feel like u can't take a step away to go touch some grass for a lil while because you're addicted to reloading the dash, you need to force yourself to do it until its easy as breathing. cause internet "friends" will drop you the second you are not needed anymore, and u need to b strong enough to endure that. u can't rely entirely on dumblr to provide for ur social happiness. its not sustainable and it's gonna fuck you up bc. well. relationships on the internet are not as solid as they seem, no matter what we believe. its already hard having irl friends you can see face to face.

if someone on the internet shows you who they are by not doing right by you : trust them. it's not irl. people arent saying shit without thinking. yes internet relationships can be as strong and fulfilling and incredible as irl relationships but they're also more prone to fakeness, fragility and other shortcomings. with dumblr, other people have the opportunity to type on their little keyboards. to wait. to erase. they're choosing to spend time with you, or choosing not to, in a way that is much more evident than irl. (cause the effort to reply to a discord message is tiny compared to the effort of having to meet somewhere, for instance. and internet friendships solely rely on that act of communication) they're choosing to prioritise you, or not. they don't have to face you whenever they do something shitty. whatever anguish & sadness they bring you, they're not worth it.

just look out for yourself out there, okay? be kind, be nice, be patient, and take a step away once in a while to remind yourself out of all the people on the internet, the most important is always gonna b you. cause you're the one who'll have to face your real life once the screen gets shut

[nacaharachuya]

Okay so i realised im a fucking idiot and that i’ve been sending you shit through “?” And i have no idea where those messages go through so whoopdy doo ig but in my defence i wasnt able to send anything any other way bc.. uhh.. yeah my email wasn’t confirmed n all that. Im telling u man i’m a whole ass boomer rn🤦‍♀️ can’t even remember how to send an ask smh.

Anyways i only now finished reading svs because i’ve been putting it off in favour of reading different fics (works from other fandoms and… ooc soukoku fics. Listen i hate mischaracterisation as much as the next guy but i find them very entertaining okay) and AAAUURGGHH WHAT A BANGER. The way you write is immaculate if svs was a food it’d have a savoury taste like i’d be liking my fingers n shit. I found out about it when you posted on twitter you updated it (it was the smut chapter, by the way) and i was like “huh” and decided to read it and my god am i glad I didn’t skip over that tweet.

Idk if this was on purpose or not but verlaine is kinda cringefail in your fic and i love it. I am a firm believer that as badass as verlaine is he is undeniably embarrassing and i need MORE of that.

My one criticism for svs is that we needed more adam scenes. He should have been added like really, unnecessarily early on in the fic and act as a third wheel in the fic. But like a third wheel soukoku did not want or ask for but he’s just kinda there they can’t really get rid of him. Chuuya and dazai in their divorce arc arguing and adam is in the background thinking “i could crack a really funny joke from this” (on that note i added the lines “Adam’s blabbering makes more sense now, so they act as if nothing has happened. “When I lift this veil, you will seal the deal with a kiss.” He can’t stop himself from laughing, “I hope you enjoyed that joke too.” “We didn’t,” Verlaine says from across the shrine. “Paul be quiet.”” In my “collection of fanfic lines I chuckled at” in my notes. He’s so silly i love him. I love how he laughs at his own jokes he just like me fr.)

Anyways here are like two extra svs doodles. I keep thinking about how you said that chuu can fluctuate between genders (literally) and its so… zamn.

And reading the scene where verlaine is brushing chuuya’s hair inspired me to draw this

I have no idea how long chuuya’s hair is supposed to be like idk if it’s “yeah his hair is a little longer than it is in canon haha” or “yeah mf got some LONG ass hair looking like rapunzel”. Also I don’t remember if his lil ribbon was red or blue but.. i jus went with blue and i didn’t know if the pearls were supposed to be like on his head or woven into his braid so i just went with the latter. And again ALSO i know he was barefoot but i’m not drawing his fucking dogs okay.

This ask is long as hell never let me talk again LMAO

Currently looking at a detail i forgot in the drawing… not pointing it out in hopes you don’t notice it either smh but GOD DAMMIT 🤬🤬🤬

DAWG I OPENED THIS YESTERDAY IN SHOCK IA M ALWAYS BLOWN AWAY BY YOUR ASKS AND ART IT MAKES ME FEEL SO LOVED AND SO CRAZY LIKE!?!?! I'M SO GLAD YOU LOVED IT ENOUGH TO MAKE ART I SAVE IT AND LOOK AT IT CONSTANTLY ;_; IM LIKE.....

AND ALSO THANK YOU. I need svs criticism and ur right I should have introduced more characters earlier I just got carried away with skk because...IDK BUT ADAM WAS MY SAVING GRACEE. He was so silly I wanted to add him sooner but I was like wait....no... BUT HE IS IN THE SEQUEL!!! DW!!! His silly ass is there and he's cracking them jokes and Verlaine is like o_o. THE ADAM LINES WERE SO FUN TOO CAUSE HE'S NOT CRINGE HE'S JUST....HIM.

Verlaine is cringe-fail on purpose tho and I'm glad you saw that because I see him as an incredibly pathetic person who can't do normal human things. He would like bite open a metal can or rip it open with his hands because he doesn't know what a can opener is. He is that type of guy.

The art is just immaculate bro like straight-up BEAUTIFUL. Chuuya's literal genderfluidity is something I'm glad people like cause when I imagine divinity I think of someone not bound by sex or gender and whatnot plus I just don't think he'd give a fart. so like....world's most wonderful tits...but he's shorter.

THE WEDDING OUTFIT IS SENDING ME TO THE GRAVE THO LIKE. IT"S PERFECT AND IDK WHAT DETAIL YOU MISSED CAUSE I FORGET EVERYTHING BUT BUT BUT BUT BUT I"M. THE HAIR LENGTH I DIDN"T SPECIFIY !!! He looks so *crying emoji cause I don't have my phone* you don't have to draw his toes I just think barefoot chuu running up the stairs to meet dazai is very him. perseverance.

BOYCACA WHAT IS YOUR TWT LET ME FOLLOW YOU AND BOTHER YOU THERE AND SPREAD THE BOYCACA AGENDA

[420technoblazeit]

anyway masterlist of responses to ppl's random messages on this form

hunters grab ur salt or hwatever. call my blog the winchesters bc we're time traveling in this fuckin car

IS HTIS WHY MY POLLS KEEP GETTING WEIRDLY SKEWED. GOD. FINE ILL ADD A 'DID NOT WATCH SUPERNATURAL' OPTION

im about to write a fix it where htey bring back crowley bc everything the writer's team did post-his death made me so goddamn angry. he adn cas die in the same episode and theyre like teehee. the antichrist brought cas back but not him bc idk. cas is Special. adn then they dont let rowena resurrect him im so alskdhgsadgasdgsadglhaldga

oh fukc are there angel robots in this. i keep making posts about gabriel spn adn people mistake it for ultrakill mayb i WILL play htis

i cant explain but like. hte type of cat that's black and white but the black adn white kinda meld together yk what im saying? lik,e an oreo milkshake

i handed in two of my final assignmetns last night so hopefully soon! im hella behind in one of my classes htough so we'll see

ive stayed up till 3 about 3 times in hte last 5 days. one of htose was bc the spn season 1 finale was a two parter adn i forgot and wanted to get to hte part where they got hit by the truck, another was bc i got really into a session of apex legedns, and the third was bc i had a final assignmetn and pissed away the rest of the day spn postign so. i think ur right

hwy are you the coolest person here what the fukc. like omg what's ur numberrrrrrrrr

WOE, DISCREET SUPERNATURAL REFERENCE IN MY MINECRAFT SMP BE UPON YE. it's a good nickname htough c!aster uses nicknames all the time for ppl anyway lmao. we've already got old man for sleep, princey for lux, dog breath for kota, etc etc. it fits

so fuckign true broski n boy am i having a time. i bought a crowley print a couple weeks ago but hte shipping for a print was too much money so i just bought a bigass sticker adn ykw. it worked. i also found out htat the artist now draws apex legends so im winning here

holy shit wait is htis just. literally a copy of super smash bros fuck yeah ill play that what the hell. why didtn u tell me about this sooner

this was on hte submission for judas. um,,,,, ,,, yeas

no youer so right. somebody did send a drawign in the drawing box of like. their little furry oc with hearts saying 'kys' adn i laughed so fucking hard at it. i didtn post it bc i wasnt sure if they were serious or not, i assume htey werent considering how cutesy it was but uh. yeha

sedn it to me im srs. i used to be hte biggest sabriel shipper back in the day before my brain apparently decided that angsty drowley shippign is superior. i love gabe though he's my fave

also im not puttign it here but someone sent a monologue? from somethign called fictional googology???? ??

LISTEN BITHC. WHEN QSMP GET'S HTE LORE ROLLING ILL DO IT. OR MAYBE GO TAKE A LOOK AT MY FUCKIGN BLOCK PEOPLE U EVER HTINK ABOUT THAT??? ?? anwyay im gonna b on wynne's vault hunters server u should go check them out n give them a follow theyre really cool

jesus fucking hcirst. u might as well just shoot me in hte leg dog

[sapphicscience]

💫💝🧿💌 !!!

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

absolutely the unhinged kind. some recent highlights from my tumblr messages and ao3 inbox:

"this is insane. you’re insane. i’m shaking."

"I FEEL INSANE? I FINISHED READING I GOT UP TO PACE AROUND THE ROOM"

"I am engraving this fic into every crevice of my brain."

the second best kind is of course detailed commentary on WHY they liked it. third best is when a beta reader provides useful feedback that can be used to make it better.

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

um i think most things are pretty predictable dskjfalkjfdjk. ummm i was not expecting people to like shauna 2nd pregnancy fic as much as they did bc the premise sounds off-putting! but people liked it anyway!

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn’t do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn’t going how you’d like it to?

based on recent experiences: i will text sophie and say "hey please read this fic and tell me if it's bad because it's getting like no response" and she will say "it's good, actually" and reassure me that fandom has just fallen off lately and it's taking longer to get readership and feedback. LOL.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

HRMNNBNGHGHHHHHH i can't wait to post this fic for yj week day 3....i will probably post it tonight because i truly. can't wait. things that are making me insane about it include 1) taking arguably the healthiest relationship on the show (taishauna) and making it just Extremely fucked up 2) taivan cannibalism 3) the closest thing i've written to shaunajackie even though jackie is dead the whole time (best kind of shaunajackie imo). rose came up with the idea and it's insane thank u rose

fic asks!

[getosbunsblog]

Levi (Snek boi) x reader smut

CW: TWO PENISES. Handjob, blowjob. Slight jealousy issues. He puts only one in cuz he’s like scared. Mammon is in here too cuz ur a slut. Ahem 69, cum play (don’t play with your food kids). Cervix breach. You’re just filthy here. Shitty plot but that’s not why you’re here anyways, you want snu snu.

——————————————————————————

You and Levi had become close friends over the time you’ve been in devildom. Having mutual interest and such. He’s actually developed quite the crush on you. Whenever he’s nearby he blushes and loses all his train of thought. But you’re also the only person who he can relax with.

He heard you giggling down the hall in mammons room. While he felt envious, it was nothing new. You always found that moron amusing. The giggling stopped though. Almost suddenly. And no one was talking. He stood up to hear slightly better and then he heard a loud thud. He bolted out of his room. He still heard noises so he quietly opened the door. You were sitting on mammons pool table while his head was in between your legs. You were moaning his name over and over again. Levi could feel himself turn as red as a tomato. Out of anger and slight arousal.

You saw a light from the coroner or you’re eye. The door had been opened. “Oh shit is it Lucifer again?” Was your first thought but then u saw lavender hair and a flushed face. You started lightly smacking mammons head but he didn’t get the message. Levi was just there wide-eyed and in shock. Also in disbelief at how dumb mammon is. You then started yelling “LEVI, LEVI” which made mammon come up and go “what ya sayin that geeks name for? I’m the one eating you out. That virgin couldn’t make you feel like this” mammon glared at you, you pointed to the door. Terrified he turned around and saw Levi standing there. Face red and a slight bulge in his pants “WHAT ARE YOU STANDING THERE FOR?! A FREE SHOW? SCRAM” and with that Levi did, he ran with tears in his eyes.

Levi pov:

Was that how you and mammon talked about him when he wasn’t there??? He started sobbing at the thought of you not actually liking him and just pretending too. We’re you always pretending??? He was crying so hard at the thought of his Henry secretly hating him. His only friend. He barley noticed he was hard. Whilst upset he couldn’t not get hard seeing you half naked on that pool table. Panties hanging on your ankles while your shirt was taken off. Clearly you were braless or atleast just expecting mammon to fuck your brains out. Mammon was right he could never make you feel as good. It was for the best that he was the one doing it. And then he heard a knock at the door “Levi” you said sweetly. He froze. What now?! He stayed silent but you heard him shuffling. “Levi, please I’m sorry about what mammon said” he thought it was sweet. That you came to apologize knowing how sensitive the third born is. “Levi, open up let’s talk” but he was terrified. And said “can you give me a minute?” He needed to get rid of this hard on. And your sweet voice wasn’t helping. So innocent and sweet. Like honey and nectar. He heard light sobbing behind the door. You must’ve thought he was mad at you. He stood up and bolted to the door. He would rather you see his embarrassing hard on than have you cry. He swung open the door and saw u with tears in your eyes, hugging yourself. He grabbed you and pulled you in. Sitting down onto his couch with you beside him

Your pov:

You sat down feeling so bad about the situation you were crying. You climbed into Levi’s lap and put your arms around his shoulders. He was blushing like usual but you just sat there whispering apologizes to him “I’m so sorry Levi, you and me both know that you could make someone feel just as good as mammon can, it’s not right for him to be mean about you lacking experience, I actually think it’s sweet” he looked at you and responded “sweet huh?” “Yea like you’re waiting for someone special”

You pulled out from his neck where u we’re nuzzled and smiled at him. Giving him a kiss on his forehead. Something inside him just imploded and he went for your lips. Locking his lips with yours. You responded kindly to the kiss and moved your lips onto his as well. His tongue poked out tried to get into your mouth. It felt different. You briefly pulled away to confirm something. His tongue sticking out you realized he had a tongue like a snake. “Wow” he looked away “I-I-I know it’s weird, we can stop-“ you slammed your face back on his. God his tongue was sexy. You wish he would eat you out with that tongue. As you continued your hard nipples pressed through your button down and onto his chest. He ripped it off popping the buttons. It was strange to see Levi so dominant. you liked it though

His mouth latched onto one and you started moaning. You were already so sensitive from not finishing earlier. He let it go with a pop. You slid your body down until you were on your knees between his legs. You undid his pants and tried to pull them down before your hand was stopped. “N-no. It’s um different than what you usually see” you kinda just assumed he was uncircumcised or some simple shit. “Levi it doesn’t matter to me, I just wanna be close to you” he then let go of your hand. His face softening. You pulled his face down and two massive cocks smacked you in the cheek. “Holy shit” you stared at him like a kid in a candy store. He looked surprised at your joy. You took the smallest one. (Even though it was still 8.5 inches) into your mouth and started stroking the top one with your hand. He starts lowly whimpering. But then the dominant side comes out again. “Stop” he very clearly demanded, you looked at him surprised. He then laid straight across the couch and then told you to get on top. When you went to hover over his cocks he corrected you. He pulled your cunt to his face. Pulling down your pink lacy panties, with a string of your fluid attached. He left your pretty plaid skirt on the though.

You got the memo and continued giving kitten licks to his other cock now. While switching your hand to the bottom one. He ran his pronged tongue across your clit. You were so into sucking his cocks. You didn’t hear a video start. You noticed he took a hand off your ass and you tried to look to see what he was doing but he thrusted his hips into your mouth and distracted you once again. “WHO MAKES YOU FEEL THE BEST BABY?” He said. “You, you Levi. No one else” you said sobbing “ah yea say my name again, player 2” You were screaming his name onto his cock. You came and squirted on his face and his phone. He then started pulsing in your mouth. Cumming on your face and in your mouth. You turned around your face covered in his cum and your tongue sticking out. Also covered in his cum. You put your fingers on your tongue and started to play with the cum. “Hehe look it has blue sparkles in it” you said innocently. He finally stopped recording. You looked so happy playing with the white liquid with blue glitter in it. It was falling onto your chest and tits. “Aw, no. It tasted good” you said with puppy eyes.

He wiped the cum off your face with his thumb and put it in your mouth. You hummed in satisfaction at the taste. He pulled it out, a trail of saliva following the thumb and leaned onto his chest kissing his neck. You had no intention of finishing yet.

——————————————————————————

EXTRA

Mammon, still pissed about being interrupted laid down on his bed groaning in disappointment. He decided it was probably time to sleep. As he was drifting off he heard a “ding” from his phone. He checked, it was Levi. He sat up to see better as he waited for the video to load, he assumed it was a meme video. But then he saw the thumbnail of you naked and playing with Levi’s cum and screaming his name

“Oh it’s on Levi”

[starryhyuck]

thin walls. (m)

pairing: softdom!jaemin x sub!reader

words: 1.8k+

summary: you try your best to keep quiet since you know jaemin’s room is right next to yours. turns out you’re not as quiet as you think.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: dom!jaemin, bestfriend!jaemin, roommate!jaemin, oral sex, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie

“Isn’t it weird?”

“Is what weird?”

You’re having your weekly video call with Donghyuck and Renjun, the latter actually paying attention to your conversation while the former furiously clicks away on his keyboard.

“We’ve been quarantining for almost a year now. You haven’t gotten any dick in months and your roommate is like the hottest guy we know,” Renjun clarifies, raising an eyebrow. You both ignore the sound of Donghyuck grumbling loudly as he loses another game.

You roll your eyes. “And you’re so concerned about my sex life because?”

“Because clearly, neither me or Donghyuck have one. I’m living vicariously through you.”

That gets Donghyuck’s attention. “For your information, I am supporting many lovely women through OnlyFans. It’s only Renjun that has difficulties with sexual partners.”

Renjun scoffs. “I could have anyone on their knees for me, and we all know it.”

There’s a knock on your door and you take an earbud out when Jaemin pops his head in. He looks like a mess — his hair springing up in different places and eyes puffy. You frown at his disheveled state.

“Hey, are you still busy?”

Your fingers move at the speed of lightning, barely registering Renjun’s protest when you quickly leave the meeting. You toss your laptop and earbuds aside to give your best friend your full attention.

He chuckles and scratches the back of his neck. “If you’re busy, I can come back later.”

“Nope, not busy anymore. Are you okay, Jaem?”

He fully enters the room and shuts the door behind him. He smiles softly at you as he takes a seat on your bed.

“Not feeling too great. Just wanted to see you.”

You ignore the swell in your chest at his confession, worriedly stroking his cheek when you realize how red his eyes are. His hand comes up to play with your fingers, eyes moving in and out of focus.

“What’s wrong?” You finally ask.

He shrugs. “Didn’t do so well on my test today. Feeling a little hopeless.”

Your frown grows deeper. You move closer to him, wanting to soothe his pain.

“Don’t say that. It’s just one test, you’ll do better on the next one. I’ll help you! We can make flash cards and create some trivia games to help you remember.”

He chuckles, eyes still staring down at your connected hands.

“You always know what to say. How is that?”

You giggle. “I earned the title of your best friend for a reason.”

“I suppose you did.” His eyes move upwards to lock on you. “Can I stay here? Just for tonight.”

You freeze. You haven’t slept next to Jaemin in months, the two of you only doing so when you were really drunk or really sad. You don’t even remember what it’s like to fall asleep in your best friend’s arms.

“Sure.”

And you two fall into a quiet rhythm, Jaemin’s arms circling around you as he brings your back to his chest. Your eyes flutter shut, focusing on his steady breaths as you try to fall asleep.

You’re startled when you suddenly feel a pair of lips ghost over your neck, pressing a small kiss to your collarbone.

“J-Jaem?”

He hums in response, not showing any signs of stopping while he continues to pepper kisses on your shoulder.

“Jaem, w-what are you d-doing?”

“I heard you last night.”

You pause. You try to register what he’s saying, which you find is incredibly hard to do when his tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your neck. You backtrack to last night, when you were feeling so drowsy but struggled to get to sleep. You don’t remember much, except for the fact that you reached to your nightstand to grab your vibrator-

Oh. Oh fuck.

“Y-You heard that?”

He hums again, moving to suck your neck with vigor. When he finally parts from his masterpiece, he chuckles.

“How could I not? The walls aren’t exactly thin, you know. I hear everything — all your silly commentary when you rewatch your favorite dramas, your weekly conversations with Renjun and Donghyuck, the pretty little noises you make when you turn your vibrator on, and the unmistakable sound of porn you watch when you’re really aroused.”

You feel more than embarrassed, stuttering as you try to offer an explanation. Jaemin chuckles against your ear, biting softly down on the lobe. A whimper tumbles out of your mouth before you realize it.

“I couldn’t sleep last night after listening to you. You made me fail my test, baby.”

“I’m s-sorry.”

“If you’re really sorry, you’ll let me eat you out.”

You swear your heart stops. “W-What?”

“I’m hungry. You wouldn’t want me to go to bed on an empty stomach, would you?”

“U-Um, no.”

Before you know it, you’re on your back with Jaemin between your legs. His fingers thumb over the fabric of your pajama shorts and he looks up at you, his eyes glimmering with a question.

You nod. “It’s okay, Jaem.”

With your permission, he slides your shorts down your legs and throws them haphazardly across the room. His gaze darkens at the sight of your lacy panties, which you honestly wore unintentionally today. You’re glad you picked them this morning though, because Jaemin looked like he was about to go insane at the sight.

“You’re so fucking perfect.”

And then his tongue licks a stripe up your clothed core and you yelp. He’s almost predatory, shoving your underwear aside and diving into your sopping pussy. You moan when his tongue furiously licks your folds, curling in on yourself while he holds you down.

“Jaemin!”

He parts from you briefly and raises an eyebrow. “I think you have another name to call me.”

You’re confused yet again. “W-What?”

He snickers. “Forgot already? I listened to all those dirty videos you were watching, baby. I know all your cute little kinks. Now, I know you have a different name to address me as.”

“J-Jaemin, I-“

He clicks his tongue. “That’s not right.”

You gather all the courage you have inside of you, ignoring the clear embarrassment on your face by the fact that Jaemin has discovered all of your secret fantasies.

“Daddy, please eat me out.”

He smiles mischievously. “Good girl.”

You have no time to dwell on your self-consciousness before he’s sinking a finger inside of you, tongue lapping at your clit. You feel like a dog in heat, warmth spreading throughout your body as you struggle to comprehend the fact that your best friend is currently eating you out like his life depends on it.

“D-Daddy, daddy!” You scream when he slips another finger inside, curling them upwards while he sucks on your clit furiously. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-“

You cry out when your orgasm sweeps over you in waves, thrashing and whimpering under Jaemin’s hold. He uses his other hand to hold your hips down when the oversensitivity crashes into you, desperately trying to push away from him.

“D-Daddy, no, I-I’m sensitive-“

Jaemin growls and holds you tighter, fingers still drilling into your pussy and mouth wrapped around your sensitive bud. You don’t have time to warn him when your second orgasm comes just as quickly as the first, convulsing around him. You try to gain a sense of strength to push him away before he can launch you into a third, and Jaemin gets the message as he parts from you.

His chin glimmers with evidence of your arousal, fingers slipping into his mouth while he tastes the remnants of your two orgasms.

He pounces on you, lips crashing into yours and you moan. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and the fact shoots another spike of arousal to your core.

“What else did they do in that video, baby?” He whispers breathily. “Tell me.”

Your brain is a little fuzzy as you try to remember.

“H-He fucked the girl until she was crying and she took it. Anything to please her d-daddy.”

He smirks. “Is that what I should do to you? Fuck you until you’re crying? Will you do anything to please me?”

You know you trusted Jaemin with your life, so you nod.

“Anything for you, daddy.”

He grins. He quickly pulls down his sweatpants and his cock springs up, already half hard. You gulp at his size, and you’re suddenly reminded of why Renjun calls Jaemin the hottest guy you know. Jaemin’s girth wasn’t exactly a secret in your friend group, many rumors spreading around after Donghyuck discovered how well endowed your roommate actually was.

His fingers grip his base, slowly pumping himself while keeping his eyes locked on you.

“Like what you see, baby? Do you think your pussy is ready to take daddy’s fat cock?”

“Y-Yes, d-daddy. I c-can take your c-cock.”

He chuckles at your response, brushing strands of hair away from your face to fully look at you. His look is almost endearing, and you would swoon any other day if he wasn’t about to fuck you.

He lines himself up to your entrance, pausing for a second.

“Do I need to get a condom?”

You shake your head. “I’m on birth control. We’re fine.”

He doesn’t hesitate any longer, pushing into you slowly. You whine at the stretch. You haven’t been taken like this in months, and your vibrator is no match for his huge cock. He coaxes you through the pain, whispering softly in your ear and kissing your neck again to help ease you up.

Once he bottoms out, he waits patiently for your go ahead before moving. You can tell it’s killing him on the inside, brows pushed together as he tries his best not to pound you deep into the mattress.

“P-Please, daddy.”

Jaemin builds a steady pace inside of you, groaning and grunting into your ear as he sinks deeper and deeper. Your mind draws a blank when you struggle to form any coherent words, babbling while he impales you with his cock.

“You’re such a good girl for me. Always so good. Been waiting for this forever, baby. Dreamed so long of having you underneath me like this.”

“Daddy,” you gasp at his unexpected confession, hissing lowly when his fingers circle around your clit. Tears spring up in your eyes from the pleasure.

“Especially all those mornings when you were wearing practically nothing in front of me, you don’t even know how many times I wanted to take you on the kitchen counter.”

You cry when his cock hits you harder and faster.

“But you’re so good for me now, aren’t you, baby? So pretty and perfect for her daddy.”

“Y-Yes, daddy,” you whimper. “I’m all yours. All good for daddy.”

Jaemin groans loudly. “Cum for me, baby. Cum for daddy.”

Your orgasm is blinding, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out your high. He follows shortly after you, grunting when he shoots his cum deep inside your waiting womb.

You both lay in silence before you suddenly burst out in laughter. Jaemin eyes you.

“What?”

“We just fucked. I just fucked my best friend and called him daddy. This is so surreal.”

He chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips.

“Better get used to it. Who knows how long we’ll be stuck in quarantine together.”

You smile. “Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”