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almostempty · 1 month ago

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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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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #divorced dad rock dilf joel #creed!joel #pedro pascal character fanfic

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the-tarot-witch22 · 3 months ago

Text

Messages/Advise from your Spirit Guides - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta | My October Goal

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - The devil, Ace of swords, 9 of pentacles and 7 of pentacles)

Okay so the very first thing i heard and feel is "let go" don't hold onto things that has no value in your life, or people that doesn't make you feel like you should be a better person, the message is so strong here, for some of you i feel you holding onto some part of something and not trying to lose it, but i feel in the end it's hurting you, so your guides are so gentle and keep saying to trust in yourself and in them, what happens it's going for your best. I also feel your guides saying don't be obsessed or infatuated with the situation or someone you already know it's not right for you and you should see the signs i am sending, you deserve better and you know it, I also heard "speak your truth", "you don't have to please someone or anyone in that matter", you have yourself and that is more than enough, I also feel your guides saying communicate, don't try to bottle things up inside you, your loved ones and we care for you, I also see a situation where you had cried a lot for some reason, like a very loud sobs and hard situation but you got out of it and you are trying to heal and they are so proud of you to doing so. "I also heard, "amazing things are coming your way, you just need to be open to accept it" okay so very interesting here i feel they know sometimes you guys could be really pessimistic and have thoughts like "isn't it so good to be true?", so your guides wants you to know don't have second doubts you deserve the best, and so will it happen, I also heard this group could be quite creative or have talents or could be skilled in art, music, photography, writing but could suffer from imposter syndrome. I hear your guides telling me to tell you "keep pursuing your dreams, and not holding back" give your best in whatever you do, I also feel they are so proud of you for how far you have come and the progressed you made, I also heard we like how independent you are but sometimes it's okay to lean on someone's shoulder, i truly feel this pile is quite sensitive or just scared of how people perceive them, some of you might have overcome that mentality but some of you needs to work on it, I also heard "say positive affirmations", and do self pep talk, trust me it will do you good! Your Guides will soon reward you for your hard work and the efforts you put in work, so keep going and know you are enough, more than enough!

Wow, pile 1 your guides are so gentle and caring for you and wants what's best for you~

Angel Oracle Cards:

No need to worry - I feel as i said most of you here worry a lot, so your advise to let go of that mindset and be more present in present and do your thing and leave the rest to your angels and guides.

Ask for help from others - Exactly! Didn't I say to not bottle up? That's exactly what i mean , it's okay to ask for help you won't be a burden to your friends or your loved ones!

Trust - Trust in the timing and the divine , what happens will guide you towards the right path!

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you - knight of swords, 4 of wands and temperance)

Okay so the very first thing i feel and heard is embrace who you are, don't let anyone's perception of you break you down, you are you, unique and loved, so damn them, let them say, because that's just their insecurities projecting on you. Don't let people's words or things get to you. I feel your guides are very straight forward like no sugarcoating things, just tell it as they are. anyhow, i feel that you might have the tendency to protect people or "save them" like fix them, i heard don't do that, it's not your responsibility to do so, The love you give to others, give to yourself too. I also heard "we have more than one surprise for you", "you have been very good, trying to be better, than you previously were, so we want to reward you" Okay so i feel your guides are trying to be mysterious here lol, not telling you but giving you a gist, now it's just up to you to unwrap the present , and know if it's a blessing in disguise, I also feel your guides telling you to be more focused and not having second doubts on the decisions you take, they also want you to be confident, to be open to opportunities, letting it flow, instead of controlling the outcome, some of you here, might have the tendency to do so, I also feel this some people in this pile might be more on a positive side, like taking things as a lesson, and that's what your guides is also proud of they want you to learn, not dwell on past. Anyhow I also feel, new opportunities, including jobs , studies could be on your way, just don't let it slip through your hands, be firm in setting your boundaries, i also feel there would be a certain milestone you all would be receiving. I also heard "be more gentle with yourself", I also feel your guides telling you to embrace the changes and your growth, but also to balance your emotions, not just react but also to look at other person's pov, not everytime, but at times, i also feel this pile could be very spirutual, for you i am also getting that you should guys start to mediate, it will help you in the long run!

Okay so pile two your guides are quite straight forward with you, and gave you messges and advise and they want you think on it and do what your gut tells you to and not doubt yourself too much!

Angel Oracle Cards -

Listen to your intuition - Okay! so this is interesting didn't I say don't doubt your decisions , so this card conveying for you to follow your gut, in situations, because i think this pile could be quite intuitive or almost never wrong!

Forgiveness - your guides wants you to move forward and stop dwelling things that has happened in your life and forgive yourself for anything you could have done intentionally or not intentionally.

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you - 4 of swords, 7 of swords, the hermit and the king of cups)

Okay so the very first thing i feel is this pile needs REST AND TO TAKE CARE OF THEMSELVES, not just physical rest and sleep but also emotional rest and to take care of your emotional needs, I also feel this pile might be quite introverted but try to give their best to other people, or try to fit in or just want to have some validations at times, from another person, and so i heard "you just need yourself to accept yourself as you are, nobody can do it better than you" I also feel this pile should check out pile 1, could have some messages for you there, I also feel for some of you there might be some two faced people around you, who could have backstabbed you or want to betray you so beware of them, and do enjoy your own company because in the end it's you who you need. I also heard "hope", so i feel there could be a time where you were in darkness like you not knowing something or being completely alone which has for sometimes made you feel that you need company but all i hear from your guides is "being alone is better than in being fake people's company", but anyways, rest is literally required for you, i heard that too many times, i also feel this pile could take too much stress on them so your guides wants you to go easy on yourself, I also heard "give respect the way you receive it", Don't let people know you too much, you already know the truth just accept it. I also feel some of you could lie very well? like other won't know if you are lying or not. But anyhow, I feel this group hasn't unlocked their full potential, but if you focus on your growth and self, i feel it would be easy, i heard your guides saying to "love yourself more, and stop dwelling on other people for your happiness" , I also heard and feel your guides are stern but yet sweet, like a parent lol, I also feel and heard, your guides also wants you look more with in, and find solitude in yourself, "I also heard a journey of self-love", didn't i say your guides asks to love yourself more, and be more gentle and compassionate towards yourself, I also feel water and air energy in this pile sun/moon/rising, especially cancer and gemini, I also feel your guides saying to be more nurturing towards your needs but also to understand yourself more, trust your guidance too!

Okay so pile 3, that was for your messages and advise! Your guides are super nurturing, i felt emotional reading for you~

Angel Oracle Cards -

Peaceful Resolution - Okay so i feel if there is a conflict around your household , your guides want you to cooperate and come on agreement which will be mutually benificial for you and the other part, I also heard "don't lose your cool".

The situation will improve - I feel if the situation around you has been hard i see it getting better for you.

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

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ceilidho · 6 months ago

Note

The catfish price things is giving me vibes of “I’ll make her pay for daring to play with me like that, I’m a god damn respected man” and then just stalking her for a few days until he finds the perfect opportunity to make the pretty little thing pay, maybe take *real* pictures of her, after he messed her up pretty cute, filled up holes.

"Oh, you're fine," John clucks, verging on dismissive when she tries to twist out of his grasp again. He yanks her back by her hips before she's managed to wriggle even an inch away, relishing in the sound of her ensuing yip.

She squeals from where she's bent over the back of the couch, little feet kicking out, her painted toes barely grazing the floor. Her pleas come out garbled, muffled by the ring gag in her mouth. It's more than fair after what she's put him through. As much as John enjoys the sound of her pleasure, he prefers this, only the squelching sound of her pussy every time he fills it up and her pathetic little mewls.

He likes the way she looks like this. Hands bound at the wrist, toes curling and flexing every time he bottoms out, still a bit too tight to take him to the root. She clenches deliciously around his length, tighter than sin, hotter than hell. Everything he'd imagined she'd be like in the weeks since they started chatting online. The only thing he's thought about since the first time she messaged him unprompted and he laid eyes on the sweet thing smiling back at him from the photo next to her name.

"Miserable little thing," he murmurs, fingers squeezing into her hips hard enough to bruise. He'll have to tend to those later when they bloom. "After everything I've done."

John likes to think that he's a good man, but even his patience has its limits. He can handle being blown off once or twice, but five times in a month? While still brazenly asking him to send her another month's worth of rent? If he's going to be taken for a sucker, then he thinks some taking of his own is well deserved. Earned, even. He's paid three times over for the wet peach between her legs.

No one would call him the most technologically adept, but what he lacks in know how, he makes up for in resources. It hadn't taken him long to find her - or, more accurately, it hadn't taken the intelligence analyst whose shoulders John had held in an ever intensifying grip long to find her. After that, all he'd had to do was put in for his leave and pack an overnight bag before plugging her coordinates into phone.

"C'mon, 'nough of that. Can't push a man this much without expecting him to snap."

She wails something unintelligible behind the gag, but he's long learned to tune her protests out. She'd been full of them when he'd barged into her apartment earlier, steamrolling past her. The display of innocence would've been more impressive if he weren't in such a foul mood, in no right mind to hear the woman that'd been bleeding him dry for weeks claim to have never so much as heard his name before.

He lets go of her hip just long enough to pull his phone from his back pocket, sliding the camera open and framing everything from the line of her back to the soft curve of her ass. The soft shutter of his camera is loud enough for her to crane her neck back, eyes going wide at the sight.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," John tuts, tossing his phone away and bearing down over her until he can run his nose down the sweaty line of her neck. She shakes when he widens his stance, seconds from letting his mind go blank while he thrusts into her like a rutting bull. "You'll get yours too."

#john price/reader #price/reader #john price x reader #price x reader #price x you #ceil writing

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enwoso · 7 months ago

Text

WILDFLOWER — leah williamson

based on my interpretation of the song by billie

just as a heads up before people start for the sake of the plot we are going to PRETEND lia and leah were a thing. I KNOW that they may not of ever been a thing but it’s just fiction ok, no way am i trying to ship them or anything like that! thanks and enjoy she’s a long one xox

warnings?: breaking of girl code, suggestions of smut, swear words, just sadness and if you squint some fluff. probs some others small things i’ve missed..

navigation

"it's going to get better lia, i promise" you whispered as you comforted your best friend, lying in her bed your arms wrapped around her as she cried her heart out to you. her emotions were all still pretty raw, the reality of her recent breakup really hitting her all at once.

lia had been with leah williamson for just over a year, but things fell apart and even though they both did the same job, time broke both their hearts. with one being in england and other being somewhere else in the world wasn't ideal for either.

you hadn't seen much of lia and leah's relationship considering you didn't see either of them everyday due to you playing for the west side of london, chelsea.

but you knew that she was lia's girl and she had showed her the world. you had heard about all the cute things they would do before things fell apart, how lia would talk about the blonde and overall how in love lia was with her.

so seeing them fall out of love was hard, you felt for your best friend. seeing her so upset was breaking your own heart. knowing there was nothing you could do except let her cry on your shoulder and comfort her when she needed it most.

"i miss her so much, y/n" lia sniffled her voice croaky and hash from crying as her eyes were red and puffy, a pout forming on your face as you nodded along to her rant as you hand rubbed up and down her back slowly letting her get it out instead of bottling up which you knew she'd been doing for the past few days.

"i know lia and that's totally normal, but you deserve better and i know you know that" you sighed softly moving a strand of her hair from her face, as she nodded slightly. lia knew you were right but hearing it aloud made it real and she didn't know if she was ready to hear that just yet.

it had been a few days since you were sat in lia's apartment comforting her and lia was getting ready to go back to switzerland in a couple days time to see her family before her summer holiday and lia had assigned you the task of going to get her things from leah's. the swiss saying she needed to pack a few things out of the things she'd left there.

so pulling up to the blondes apartment on a random wednesday in june you prayed she was home, totally forgetting to maybe send a message to ask if you could come and collect your best friends things.

three knocks and a few minutes passed and the blonde was stood in front of you, hair a little messy as she was dressed in joggers and blue hoodie. her eyes a little red and puffy which was more than likely a sign the breakup had also hit her too.

"um hi" you smiled awkwardly not really knowing how to greet the blonde, you knew leah to a point but you wouldn't say you were friends more just friend of a friend? or in simpler terms you knew of the british captain through lia — only ever having the odd conversation if you'd been with lia when leah was there.

leah raised her eyebrows looking shocked at the sight of you standing at her front door. "hey, not to be rude but why are you here- did lia not-" leah began the door still only open a little bit as she leaned against it.

"oh sorry, i should have message just lia said some of her things are still here and asked if i could get them?" you cleared up the small misunderstanding as leah hummed stepping aside from leaning against the door so you could go into her apartment.

"you might have to give me a few minutes to find all of her stuff" leah gave you a small smile as you nodded taking in your surroundings.

the photos of leah and her family in photo frames on the coffee table as well as the walls, some of baby leah and who you were guessing to be her younger brother and other of leah from the past few months. the colours around the apartment being very neutral which matched the blonde personality.

smiling to yourself at the sight of some of the small tributes to arsenal which decorated the girls home, leah having been a die hard arsenal fan it would be surprising if she didn't have arsenal related memorabilia in her home.

"yeah sorry about that i should have give you the heads up" you apologised as leah waved off your attempts with the same small smile.

"no worries, erm you can sit down you know" leah pointed out as you were kind of just hovering in her living room area.

"right, yeah- sorry" you mumbled out as unknown to you leah rolled her eyes playfully at your excessive apologies. sitting down on the couch, sinking into the softness of it as leah called out that she wouldn't be long as you hummed response while getting your phone out to message lia letting her know that you wouldn't be long.

you ended up just scrolling aimlessly through your phone, your own little bubble consuming you to the point where you didn't even realise leah was back in the living room or the fact she was even talking to you.

"y/n!" her voice echoed throughout the apartment as you jumped a little at the sudden loud noise, looking up slowly from your phone. seeing the blonde stood in front of you with a brown cardboard box in her hands.

"is that it all?" you questioned looking at the box which actually appeared to be quite full, as the blonde nodded a small sniffle coming from her as you frowned slightly.

"are you gonna be okay?" you asked softly not wanting her to think you were overstepping but leah put the box down on the coffee table as she moved to sit next to you on her couch.

"yeah.. no- i don't know" her milton keynes accent was coming through thick as she sighed, you looked to her a sympathetic look on your face.

you knew this must be hard for her too, you knew she loved lia. "i know we aren't really friends but i'm here if you need someone to talk to" you pointed out, your hand resting on her knee.

"thanks y/n, i really appreciate that" she smiled, and for the first time since you arrived it looked genuine as her eyes then moved to where your hand was rested on her knee.

following her eye line before quickly snatching your hand away from her knee, "sorry, i- i didn't mean to make-" you quickly rambled out but you quickly noticed that leah still had the same smile on her face.

"it's okay, relax." you breathed out, your heart beating a lot slower than it was seconds ago as you moved to stand up.

"well i better get these back to their owner!" you picked up the box from the coffee table as leah also got up leading you to the door, opening it for you.

"thanks leah, i'll see you around!" you gave a small wave with your hand before catching the box again before you dropped it.

a light giggle coming from leah. "bye!" as you walked down the corridor towards the lift.

since being at leah's that day, you had found yourself around the blonde captain a lot more than you liked to admit out loud. although with lia being away it gave you someone to hang out with, is what you were telling yourself.

you were stood in her kitchen making both you and leah some food, you being left in charge after finding out leah couldn't cook to save her own life and actually being quite hungry yourself you figured if you wanted something decent it was best to do it yourself.

leah was of course still in close proximity, doing her best to distract you. "did you know that strawberries are not actually a berry!" she told you, this was the seventh random fact she had given you.

"how do you know that?" you asked lifting your eyes from cutting the vegetables that were set on the kitchen counter majority for you as leah's tastebuds weren't as adventurous when it came to food as you had discovered.

leah shrugged she didn't really know it, cause she didn't even know if it was true. she felt it was though she can vague remember seeing it online or maybe someone told her about it. she remembers something being mentioned somewhere about strawberries and berry's!

"that's so stupid! where do you keep your bowls?” you asked as you stood in the center of her kitchen. leah being leah though couldn’t verbally tell you she instead wrapped her arms around you waist while walking you over to where the bowls were kept.

“there in that one” leah pointed out to one of the many lower cupboard which the bowls were in. “you could have just told me you know!” you laughed out loud at the blonde’s silliness.

“where’s the fun in that though!”

moving without thinking, as you bent down forgetting about leah’s hands which were snaked around your waist you felt your bum be pressed flush against the blondes front. unbeknownst to you leah was trying her best not to whine for you.

picking up the bowl size you needed and placing back on the counter as you stood back up, as you turned to face the blonde, being met with a small sheepish smile. "hi"

"hi" she breathed out her face inches away from touching yours. the blonde looking into eyes deciding if she was going to make the move or if she was waiting for you to, seconds later bringing her hand up to your face, cupping your cheek and using her thumb to run across your cheekbones, pulling you that little bit closer to her.

allowing leah to pull you closer, only stopping when your faces were mere inches away. leah's hand remaining in its place. taking in being able to feel your soft skin under her finger tips as your back was pressed against the cold counter top of her kitchen.

if you moved even the slightest your lips would graze, you both being so close to each other you could feel your breath mixing together.

"please" you whimpered, at first you weren't sure what you were begging for but you were unable to stop the tone. "what?" leah innocently asked as a smirk appeared on her face as you rolled your eyes.

you could feel leah's lips graze yours as you moved that little bit closer, your lips now ever so slightly touching.

"le kiss me-" you breathed out, leah nodding and moving her head forward allowing your lips to connect properly.

your hand resting on the blondes hip, pinching it slightly as the blonde let out a small moan, getting the sound that you wanted to hear more and more.

leah ran her hand that was previously on your cheek to the back of your neck, "i love you" leah moaned into the kiss, the suddenness of her words shocking your body’s . that was the first time she had said that out loud. your head quickly telling you that you shouldn't be kissing her.

"le, we can't." you whispered as you pushed her away, your breathing slightly hitched as your mind replayed the three words she had just said seconds ago.

awkwardness filling your kitchen as guilt began to consume you. that was your best friends ex. were you crossing a line?

"why?" leah was confused and hurt. you asked her to kiss her now you were backpedaling.

"cause you've just gotten out of a relationship" you said simply as if it was the most obvious answer you could have given her.

"that can't happen again, it was a mistake" you regretted it as soon as you said it. deep down you knew you didn't mean it. but your head was telling you different, you did mean it and it wouldn't happen again. it couldn't.

but it did.

after the first kiss, it wasn't the last. you had spaced yourself away from leah but you felt this attachment to her something always drew you back to her, it was strange but you didn't do anything to try and stop it. you craved her.

but after each time, when you were lying awake alone in your own bed sheets you felt guilt, you knew you shouldn't and it lingered in the back of your mind. like a fever. like you were burning in hell. like a sign.

your friendship with lia was important to you, after all when you first moved just a little over five years ago she was the only person you knew, she's been there since the start. but when you were with leah, you were a different person. you were happy and free, you felt safe around her.

the thought of lia's reaction was what was eating you alive at nights. what would she think, would she still be your friend, what if she didn't even care, what if she already knew, what if she hated you for it.

the what ifs haunted you at night when you tried to sleep.

you knew you should just put it all behind you, that maybe you should break things off with leah cause after all nothing good ever last forever.

but you couldn’t, you didn’t want to.

cause at the end of the day you still somehow found your self with the blonde brit, hands intertwined and body's pushed close together.

like tonight where you were wrapped in your bed sheets, as leah watched how your top brow crinkled as you focused on the film. a small fuzzy feeling growing inside of leah, her heart beating that little bit faster.

leah had grown bored of the film within the first few minutes instead using the time to just make the most of the time with you, your fingers intertwined as she occasionally placed kisses on your cheek.

before moving to your chin, and your jawline and then lower to your neck whispering sweet nothing in your ear as she did. you thanked that the lights were off otherwise leah would have seen how your cheeks turned bright red when she kissed a certain spot on your neck.

the kissed soon turned into small bites a long with her sucking on a your sweet spot, your hips bucking slightly along with your eyes fluttering close from time to time as you withheld the urge to moan and give into her teasing.

her lips soft and everything you remember from the last time. how she knew your body, how to rile you up so fast.

but then you remember your best friend, lia. the guilt pending in your stomach as you were kissing the girl who broke your best friends heart. you were crossing a line.

"le stop-" you mumbled out against her lips, pushing her away from you. as she frowned at you, her brows knitted together.

"if lia find out- i- she'll" you stumbled over your words not being able to find the words as leah rested her hands on your hips a sharp sigh coming from her lips as you couldn't look up from the ground, to face her loving eyes.

"love, you need to stop worrying about lia- she's- it's stopping you from being happy" leah whispered, maybe she was right but you can't loose your best friend over a relationship. but could you loose a potential relationship over a friend?

but lia was your best friend, she helped you when you moved from your home town to london. she was there for you when you missed your family, she was the one that dropped everything for you when you needed help finding yourself again. lia was always there.

"we can't though- i can't." you stutter out. "why though, can't you see that i love you" leah said her voice getting softer as she kept you close to her.

"no. l-leah this is wrong, i can't do this anymore, not to lia. she comes back in two days-“ your head was spiralling, you weren't sure what had switched in your head so quick as there was so much going on inside your head but also nothing at all.

"you can't always help who you fall for"

"but i was the one who fucking sat with her when you call things off with her, told her it would be alright while she cried to me that she missed you, she my fucking best friend leah!" your voice had risen a little but you weren't shouting. your tone was sharp as you pushed her hands off your waist which took leah by surprise but she knew the guilt you felt about getting with her.

"then why am i stood in your apartment" leah pointed out as she watched you look up at her slowly shrugging her shoulders, leah's face blank filled with no emotion.

"i- i" you whispered you tried but you couldn't find a reason why, you could feel your lip trembling your eyes filling with tears. the realisation of what you were doing hitting you like a brick.

your hands covering your face as your breathing felt heavy. you felt stuck, not only in place but mentally too. your feelings for leah were beginning to feel more real, maybe you did love her but your friendship with lia was also very important to you and something you valued.

you felt like a wildflower. instead of being left to grow and stem out you had to be picked by someone.

you felt leah sit down next to you, part of you was hoping she was gonna leave but you knew in her heart that she cared for you deeply and to leave you when your head was clearly not in the right place would be wrong, even if you were hurting leah in the process.

"breathe y/n" she spoke softly her hand rubbing up and down your bare arm as your breathing was beginning to slow.

"m'sorry le" you mumbled your voice corse as tears still rolled down your face as the blonde pulled you into a side hug, as she tucked your hair behind your ears.

minutes passed as you sat in silence waiting for the other one to break the silence.

"i'm not gonna act as if it doesn't hurt but i get your in a hard place when im your best friends ex, and i know i don't have to remind you that i love you cause i know you. and i know i act as if it doesn't hurt when you push me away cause i know you don't mean it but, but it does y/n. i want nothing more than to be able to call you mine, show you off to everyone cause i see myself spending the rest of my life with you." leah confessed, and if your heart didn't already feel heavy enough it did now.

being totally wrapped up in the way lia may feel, you had neglected leah's feelings. selfishly not thinking how much it may be affecting leah.

"i'm sorry, leah i really am i just need time" you spoke finally from your heart, feeling leah nod against you as she began to move from your couch. kissing the top of your head as she walked out of your apartment, the door clicking shut as you felt your body sink into your couch.

it had been a few weeks since you spoke to her, lia was back and you had seen her a few times talking over a coffee as she told you all about switzerland and her holiday before asking what you had been up to in the month she’d been away, not being able to bring yourself to tell her about a certain blonde. you lied, telling her ‘not a lot.’

but for you the few weeks had been a good insight for you to reflect on your feelings and come to terms with what they actually meant. to the point where you knew exactly what you had to do.

the blonde over the past few weeks had sent you a few messages asking how you were to which you replied with a simple one word answer.

the blonde taking the hint at your bluntness that you still needed time and space so the messages had stopped, so when she heard knocking on her door, you were the last person she expected to be stood at the other side of her door.

"y/n?" leah looked at you with confusion, her eyes flicking to the flowers she guessing you had picked yourself as they were wrapped in a piece of newspaper.

"i love you."

#woso community #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso blurbs #arsenal women #awfc #arsenal wfc #awfc imagine #lia walti x reader #lia walti #england wnt #england women #england #enwoso

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yunniiez · 1 year ago

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dry humping a teddy while missing ur baby :(

members: hyung line x fem reader

requested? yes

trigger warnings: degrading words, swearing, mention punishment, sending nudes/ semi phone sex? being watched by them. yea! lmk if i missed anything!!

heeseung walked in from work, walking through the oddly quiet home as he tried to locate you. “baby? i’m home” he called out. usually, you’d come running towards him and greet him but this time, he was met with silence. he made his way to your shared bedroom, figuring that’s where you’d be. the door was cracked open as small whines and whimpers could barely be heard from outside the door.

he pushed the door further open, snickering at the sight. he stood at the door for a moment, watching you desperately hump the teddy he had recently bought you for your anniversary. you squeaked in embarrassment when you noticed him standing there.

“keep going baby, you seemed to be enjoying it.” he said, his voice dropping low as he stepped into the bedroom, watching as your cheeks heated up. “come on slut, you were just moaning out for me.”

*******************************************************

his phone buzzed against his thigh as he pulled it out of his pocket with a soft hum. jay looked down at a message from you, opening it carelessly. his cheeks instantly flared into a bright pink, locking his phone and hiding it from anybody that may have seen. he was quite exposed too, having been out with the members for dinner. you had sent him a video of you riding one of your plushies, moaning out for him.

he groaned as his pants tightened around his crotch. he stood up, wordlessly walking towards the bathroom as he face timed you, cursing under his breath as he locked himself inside the disabled bathroom. “pick up, fucking bitch.” he muttered to himself. you picked up not soon after, your cheeks flushed.

“i’m coming home soon. until then, you better enjoy what you’re doing when i can assure you, when i get home, you’ll be begging for forgiveness.” jay rasped, hanging up before you had the chance to respond.

*******************************************************

jake was asleep, his back turned to you, who had been desperately humping a teddy you usually slept with. you had woken up so horny but couldn’t find it in you to wake up your pretty boyfriend. so you resorted pathetically rubbing your little clothed cunt against your teddy in an attempt to release some sexual frustration.

as you felt your stomach beginning to tighten, your whimpers grew louder until you were shamelessly moaning, as your panties grew damp with your release. jake stirred from his sleep, lifting his head to turn around and look at you sleepily.

he groaned out, instantly figuring out what you had been doing. he reached over in his dazed state, placing his hands on your hips. “baby. come here, do that on me instead” he said, tugging you ontop of him.

*******************************************************

sunghoon walked into your bedroom, smirking as he plopped down on your bed that you had been in a slumber on. he placed his hand in your shoulder, gently shaking you to wake you up. “sweetie, i bought you something” he said softly, waiting for your eyes to open before waving a teddy infront of you.

you sat up, excited. he chuckled at your reaction, gently running his hands over the sides of your head before stopping to hold your face in his hands gently. “i think i deserve something too, no?” he said innocently, looking down at your body shamelessly.

you blushed, noticing the change in his demeanour. “you know what i want, right?” he asked, considering he made you do this with almost all of the stuffed toys he bought for you. “come on pretty baby, show me how thankful you are..”

RAHHH OK DONE!!!! feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated too!!

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #heeseung smut #jake smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #kpop smut #kpop

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mochatsin · 1 year ago

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WHEN MC GETS CATCALLED

Being a very extraordinary human, you’re bound to draw attention to yourself without meaning to. That includes the attention of unruly demons who can’t seem to take their eyes off you. One of them eventually crosses the line by calling you names and saying inappropriate things about you, but luckily one of the demon brother’s overheard and was there to help you.

Some scenarios have MC overhearing this or it happens behind their back. Even though the words aren’t explicitly said, please exercise caution if these things make you uncomfortable! Also has some violent themes with some of our favorite protective demons.

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

Lucifer

Lucifer was on his way to meet you at this restaurant because he wanted to treat you to dinner as thanks for accompanying him with one of his errands that Diavolo has sent him on. With your help, it significantly lessened the headaches and workloads he has to deal with on a daily basis.

You’ve done a lot around the house, so it’s only fair that he would take you somewhere more high end right? You’ve already frequented some of the other restaurants with Beel, so Lucifer wants to take you to somewhere more high class. He wants you to feel special tonight, and mostly to lower the chances of his brothers barging in and ruining his dinner plans.

He was waiting by the table he reserved when he saw you walk in the entrance. Given the venue, Asmo decided to make sure you look your best to surprise Lucifer because he wants you to really capture everyone’s attention because you deserve to be the star of the night.

Well it did work because to Lucifer, you look absolutely stunning. He should’ve taken you out to these sorts of places more often if it meant he’ll see you like this. If only the constant house repairs and bills his younger brothers make him pay didn’t get in the way.

Though his admiration is cut off when he notices other demons looking at you with this predatory look in their eye, as if you were the main course walking into this restaurant. He’s holding onto anything to keep himself in line.

The last straw was when he heard the things some waiter said about you. To speak about you so lowly is insulting, there’s no way for Lucifer to sit still and act like he didn’t hear all that. The air feels so heavy to breathe in it feels like glass could shatter from the sheer pressure of it, and a deadly aura can be traced towards your reserved table.

“Do you wish to keep your tongue? Or would you prefer to keep speaking and see where this knife goes?” Lucifer’s gaze is cold and threatening while his grip on the butterknife tightens to the point he’s almost deforming the metal. Even though he’s only talking to the waiter, he’s clearly sending the whole restaurant a message.

You knew you needed to do some damage control and tried to get Lucifer out of there, coaxing him to calm down before it could get any worse. He decides to listen to you for now, because this whole night was meant to treat you and not stress you.

“It’s best if we get a change of scenery. There are too many pests in this restaurant, let me take you to a nice place. Somewhere more deserving of your presence.” Lucifer would not want to dine in a restaurant if their food is served by these kinds of waiters. He’d say it’s unprofessional customer service, but you can tell it’s very personal.

He takes you to somewhere fancier and possibly more expensive. Though he’s going a bit out of budget tonight, it’s to make up for those awful words that the waiter said about you. He hopes that you don’t shy away from dressing up so nicely, because he’d want to show to the world why the Avatar of Pride chose you. He’ll treat you like royalty if he has to.

It takes one awful review from Lucifer to have the establishment shut down under the order of the young prince. He doesn’t care what strings he has to pull if it means that your stay in Devildom would be much more comfortable. You should never feel unsafe like that again.

Mammon

Every other week Mammon would make a stop by the casino to try to score some extra grimm. As if his streaks of bad luck won’t be enough to keep him away here, and not even Lucifer’s punishments can put a cease on his bad gambling habits. It’s an itch in his brain that he’s gotta scratch after all! He’s optimistic each time he enters the casino in hopes he’ll score big.

There are a few occasions you would join him if your schedule allows it. Sometimes it’s to keep an eye in case Mammon goes too far with his bets as Lucifer instructed, because he doesn’t want him to come home with more debt than he left with. Though in all honesty, you’re there for the smile your first demon gets whenever he actually wins.

At some point Mammon believes that you’re his lucky charm when he notices how he’s been scoring more grimm than he expected whenever you’re around. If he finds that your schedule is free, then he’s definitely dragging you along.

He likes to rub the top of your head sometimes for some extra luck before making a bet. Though he prefers it more if you’re sitting next to him when he does so. He says it’s for luck, but he just wants an excuse to have you by his side.

The demons at the opposite side sees you and begins to make snarky comments accompanied with wolf whistle. The discomfort is evident in your eyes as you instinctively move closer to Mammon, and he’s definitely not having it right now.

Screw everything, if this asshole is picking a fight then that’s what Mammon will give him. If the demon wants to take hold of what’s his then Mammon will make it very clear to the entire table that you’re not up for grabs no matter how much grimm they’ll put on the table.

“Ya wanna make a bet how many teeth i could make ya cough out in a minute?” Mammon said, flashing a grin far too sinister. Being the second strongest and even the fastest, it doesn’t seem like a wise thing to gamble on so the demons shrunk in their seats.

You like to think that luck is finally on Mammon’s side today when he won the round. Though it’s definitely Mammon’s threatening aura around the table that impaired the everyone’s ability to make a wise decision when placing bets.

When he walks out with his earnings, his grip on your hand is tighter than usual while he checks his surroundings. He holds you like you’d get snatched away at any moment, and it doesn’t seem like he has any intention of letting you go until you both reach the house.

“You’re my treasure, but that doesn’t mean I like it when other demons check ya out like that.” Mammon is quite protective of his valuables. You and Goldie are on the top of the list. He’d play it off as acting this way as part of his role of Greed, but it’s clear he’s worried about you.

Whenever you text Mammon that you’re going to fetch him from the casino, he’s insistent that you either bring one of his brothers with you or wait outside because no way is he going to let other demons look at you like eye candy like that ever again.

Levi

Despite being a bit recluse and shy, Levi is not afraid of the prospect of cosplay when it means that he gets to express his love for his favorite series. He puts in a lot of work into sewing his costumes and making sure it looks perfect for the next upcoming convention.

He’s ecstatic when you agreed to cosplay with him this time, even matching with his favorite character. As soon as he got over the fluster he got from the idea, he’s quick in whipping up clothes for your size and you both spent a lot of time in his room trying to get your outfits right, or going outside to get some more materials.

The process was fun for Levi when he gets to do these sorts of things with you, and the payoff was worth it when you both finally got to see the end results. Levi is so confident, you two look like an absolute power couple… from the anime, yeah definitely. If Levi tried to say that again he might burst into flames.

You both go to the con and have an absolute blast taking photos together or with other people who are also fans of the series. Levi wants you to enjoy the thrill of cosplaying! But he eventually noticed midway that you’re starting to look uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the clothes? Wearing cosplay for so long can be tiring after all.

He stops when he hears a passerby making comments about you in the outfit, and it’s clear that it’s starting to make you uneasy but there’s no way that Levi is going to let someone ruin this event, not when you were clearly having fun together.

“Those aren’t compliments. They're just straight up offensive! A MOCKERY to fans who dedicate so much time and effort to the things they love!” Levi hisses because this person not only insulted the whole cosplay community, they insulted you of all people.

You helped Levi get out of his shell and come to his aid whenever things start getting overwhelming for him. Levi doesn't want you to feel that unease, he wants you to feel safe! What if you don’t want to do matching cosplays with him anymore? That’s unacceptable!

Luckily some other people got some security to drag the creep away since there’s already a record of making other cosplayers uncomfortable as well. Levi doesn’t dwell on that though, he grabs you and gently leads you away from the crowd of onlookers.

He tries to play it cool but if it weren't for the makeup and props on his face, you’d definitely see how red he looks right now. He mumbles something about how he must’ve sounded so stupid back there like what was he thinking…

“I-i know that some otaku like me can’t be like those heroes i dress up as but… y-you can rely on me too!” Levi managed to say through the stutter, though just saying things like these out loud makes him wish for the ground to swallow him up.

Levi would buy you something to cheer you up and forget about that experience, anything to bring a smile back on your face. Any merch of the series you like, maybe gamble on some cute gachapons, or just buy some desserts together. He wants you to feel better!

If other fans want to take pictures with you and you start feeling uncomfortable, Levi would do his best to drag you away or reject them for you. It’s taxing work and definitely doing numbers on his social battery, you’ll both be holed up in his room to recover after this whole ordeal.

He’ll have pictures of both of you in cosplay as his wallpaper at some point, maybe show off some of your best pictures to his brothers. He would ramble on for so long about how you look great in the picture and really embodied the character you were dressing as. If some demon can’t appreciate you back there in the con, then Levi will definitely worship you.

Satan

Instead of Libraries or Cafes like you both usually go to, Satan wants a nice change of pace this time and brings you to an orchestra. Through his connections, he was able to get both of you two tickets to the best seats in the house.

There’s no special occasion, he just wants to treat you to some of the finer things Devildom has to offer. Though he doesn’t really have the wallet like Lucifer does, he at least has the connections to make up for it so Satan can take you to galleries and things like these.

He was on his way to the venue where you were already waiting for him. But he stops when he hears some demon making revolting remarks about someone he saw at the entrance, only for Satan to realize that person was you when you were the only one by the doors.

You could practically feel the rage burning through him the moment you two meet, and it looks like he’s hardly containing his wrath. Though Satan promised you a nice night, it would be a shame to waste these expensive tickets by going feral right now so he decides to keep it to himself.

He keeps you close for the night, giving you the royalty treatment and whispering sweet nothings by your ear during the orchestra. If you ask him what brought up this sort of behavior (not that you’re against it), he’d just smile it off. He’d be honest about it, but not tonight. Satan wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of the play worrying.

“Something just brought down my mood, though it made me realize just how special you are to me. I’d do anything to keep you safe, and make you smile.” He whispers by your ear, wrapping an arm to bring you closer to him as you both listen to the orchestra.

His eyes narrow as soon as he spots the demon from earlier just a few seats across from you. His pupils dilate, like how a cats’ eyes would when it spots a prey to stalk.

From time to time his gaze would turn to your side, and if that bastard would ever even look at you for even a millisecond then he’s gripping on the armrest for his dear life because he swears he’s going to throw a punch or even worse.

But no, Satan can be patient and cunning. He waits until the demon excuses himself to the bathroom, and Satan promptly follows behind. The demon was simply washing his hands and by the time he looks up the mirror, Satan is already looming behind him with a smile that doesn’t seem to match the aura he’s giving off.

“Let’s be thankful that the orchestra seems to be quite loud for now. It’s a shame I’m going to miss it with my human, but it’ll be perfect to cover up any screams” Satan says with a sinister grin. If those eyes cannot see your true value, then those eyes are not worth keeping.

Satan comes back to you with a smile on his face, apologizing for taking a bit long in the bathroom before you both enjoy the rest of the show while holding hands. He’ll occasionally place a kiss on the back of your hand, enjoying each reaction he’ll get from you.

The demon’s seat remains empty for the entire night and the bathroom is closed for ‘maintenance’ when you check.

Asmo

What started as a usual hangout with Asmo quickly turned to a day in the mall. For the demon’s defense, it was the perfect opportunity after he tried to help wash your clothes and realized you’re wearing the same ones every week.

He will not stand for this when Devildom’s fashion line has so much to offer for you. You’ve been cycling through the same outfits recently, and Asmo wants you to have a new look!

Unlike his usual clothes shopping spree with you where he makes you try a heaping basket of outfits, Asmo wants you to choose whatever you want to wear this time and see what kind of clothes catches your eye.

Clothes tell a lot about a person, so he wants to see your aesthetic properly and know what you personally like. You try on the outfits you like and he’s loving the smile on your face each time. Of course Asmo would have suggestions, but not the kinds that would stray away from your aesthetic but rather improve it.

Asmo was waiting patiently for you in the dressing room when he heard some demons behind him, a few aisles back, talking about how absolutely delicious you looked. Even going as far as thinking of grabbing a bite and just hearing such words is making Asmo’s blood boil.

He’d stand for it if it were directed at him, but to his human? He will not let some lesser demons talk about you that way. If anything, those demons should be cowering for you because of how stunning you are!

“My love did not spend so much time trying out clothes that make them happy only for maggots like you to gawk at them that way.” Asmo glares, his eyes having that hypnotic enchanting glow in it. With the demons under his spell, Asmo has so much planned. A whole world of pain was waiting for them until he heard you from the dressing room calling out for him.

Asmo quickly utters a command to make the demons leave, he’ll just have to deal with them later. Maybe later he can ask Satan for a curse to force them to cry and make their tears burn like acid if those demons ever laid their eyes on you like that again.

He’d have his usual smile plastered on his face as soon as you walk out the dressing room with another outfit you chose, though he sounds much more enthusiastic last time. Asmo is showering you with praises, he’ll find a way to make a compliment that brings a smile to your lips no matter what you wear. There’s no innuendos or any poor attempt at flattery, he sounds genuine this time.

“This isn’t just some sweet talk! I love your smile whenever you wear something you like and feel good about it. You should wear these more often, and maybe after this we can find some accessories to match your style!”

Asmo doesn’t tell you about the things he heard from when you were still in the dressing room, he thinks there’s no need for you to waste time on such things. Though you’ve noticed how he seems to have two lesser demons following him around and carrying all his things for him. Satan just says that they did something to upset Asmo, now they’re practically his slaves until he feels better.

Beel

You often drop by before Beel’s Fangol practice to give him a snack, your own personal way of cheering him on and wishing him good luck. Beel loves your generosity, and eating food that came from you specifically seems to energize him more.

Sometimes he’d spot you watching over him by the bleachers, either by yourself or with Belphie napping on your lap. You’re like his personal cheerleader, and whenever you both lock eyes he can feel his heart making leaps in his chest when you wave at him.

He’s by the locker room changing out of his sweaty clothes when he overheard one of the demons talking about the exchange student watching over them. Beel could tell from their words that they seemed interested in you, which didn’t leave a good feeling in his gut.

Eventually their words became something much more twisted and vile, saying things that Beel would never associate you with. He’s had enough of sitting by and letting them just think they could talk about you like that and get away with it.

There’s a loud BANG! And the sound of metal crunching. The demons turned around to see that Beel, out of pure anger, slammed the locker door hard enough that it’s barely hanging on by the wedges. There’s even a large hand print if they looked close enough.

“If you keep talking that way… our next training sessions are going to be very rough.” There’s a growl as Beel spoke, his gaze making the demons feel so small before he left. He knows they’re supposed to be his teammates, but that doesn't mean anything to him after what they’ve said about you.

You walk up to him in a hurry as soon as you spot him after practice, asking him what was that loud noise you heard from the locker room. Beel blinks at you for a moment before smiling, “my teammate just slipped and hit against the locker. Don’t worry, no one is hurt yet.”

You tried to ask about the part where he said ‘yet’ but Beel’s roaring stomach made it cue, signaling that it’s time to grab a bite after training. Perhaps it’s best to drop it for now, there are more important matters such as making sure Beel gets something to eat before he throws a fit.

The next few practices, you noticed the aggressive behavior Beel is displaying during Fangol training. You know that it’s just a violent form of Football, but you’ve watched Beel purposely launch the ball onto his teammates faces and tackle them hard against the ground when he gets the chance.

Only Belphie knows the truth of why his twin is acting that way, but he tells you not to think about it too much. “Don’t worry, he’s just letting out some steam” He says, unfazed when he spots his twin hurling himself against his teammate and tackling him to the point he’s sure it could cause a concussion.

Belphie

Belphie may be Sloth incarnate, but there’s no denying that he’s smart when it comes to studies. You see him with high marks in class despite never catching him awake during the lectures. You’d see him sleep with his head next to a book and he wakes up like he knows everything in it’s contents.

You ask for his help with an upcoming report you have for your next class and even though he wanted to tease you about it, he can see that you’re a little nervous about it so he keeps that to himself and agrees to fill in the gaps of your knowledge.

Belphie originally wanted to just telepathically tell you what to say, that’s an easy way out right? But you told him that it’s cheating and you want to study hard. Belphie playfully rolls his eyes but he does it your way and answers your questions on the topic. He doesn’t overwhelm you with information, but he helps tutor you so that you can have a bit of faith in yourself when you present to the class.

He put in an effort to stay awake when it was your turn to present and he has this sleepy smile on his face whenever you two made eye contact. You put in a lot of effort in your report, and he feels happy for you when you finish without problems. He’ll congratulate you when he wakes up because he has no energy to listen for the rest of the lecture and sleeps on the desk.

Belphie woke up by the time class had ended and everyone was already preparing for break time. He peeks through his bangs to see that you probably already went ahead to the cafeteria and he was about to follow suit when he overheard a particular conversation between his classmates that were still in the room.

He thought they were talking about your report but it turns out that wasn’t the case. He hears all the disgusting things they were saying about you and it’s taking every bit of self control he has to stay calm, his fingers gripping onto the desk that there’s bound to be claw marks.

The demons hardly noticed Belphie and talked without a care in the world as they’re about to exit the classroom. Though their bodies started feeling heavy and they were getting sluggish, like reaching the exit is suddenly a taxing thing to do. Eventually their bodies drop, hardly having the energy to move no matter how much they try.

Belphie is standing above them, looking down on them as if he was staring at two piles of trash on the floor. “They spent so much effort on that report… I'm not going to let lowlifes like you tarnish all that.”

You were about to head back to the classroom with a snack you bought for Belphie as thanks for helping you, until you saw the demon just exit the room and close the door behind him. You tease him for oversleeping again before handing him the Devil Pudding cup you got for him.

Belphie accepts the treat, and he’d tease you about looking so nervous before your report but he’ll praise you afterwards. “You worked so hard after all. You could’ve taken the easy way out or something, but you didn’t. You should be proud of yourself too…”

When you two went back to the classrooms, you noticed some empty seats of what was previously occupied by your classmates. Someone told you that they started feeling ‘unwell’ and were sent to the clinic. No one really knows what happened to the demons.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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sapphire-writes · 10 months ago

Text

Doomsday

Part 5 (finale) of The Campaign

modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: The polls have closed! Time to see the results of the election– and those saucy little photos that someone leaked.

word count: 4.6k

rating: explicit/18+/MDNI

warnings: language, kissing, yelling, dom!reader (we're topping tonight baby!!), crawling, begging, humiliation, degradation, praise, face sitting, oral (fem receiving), dom!Aemond (the top didn't last long), primal play if you squint, Counter® shenanigans, riding, teasing, overstim, hair pulling, mentions of infidelity

The waiting was going to kill you.

Rhaenyra had told you to arrive at nine. Sharp. Nothing else was in the email. Nothing else needed to be.

You knew why she wanted to see you.

The pictures of you and Aemond had been plastered everywhere. The Daily Lion, The Sunspear Herald, and even Beyond The Wall Times. Everywhere.

Not right away of course, oh no. Aemond was much too clever for that to have them leak at an inconvenient time. No, he’d waited and held onto that ticking time bomb until the proper moment.

A week before the election.

That’s when the world came crashing down.

You hadn’t seen him since the Hamptons. Months ago. He’d tried calling, texting, and sending emails. It was better to ignore him. You had nothing to say anyway.

You glance at the clock that ticks outside of Rhaenyra’s office in Dragonstone Tower.

9:17

Rhaenyra is nothing if not punctual. She’s probably coming up with the proper way to let you go. It's not an easy feat– you’re easily one of her best.

Were. You were one of her best.

Your eyes squeeze shut. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. You take out your phone, mindlessly scrolling to pass the time. Polls close at eight. You get off the news and go to your messages. Still nothing from Jace. You hadn’t heard from him since the drop. It was easy to assume things were over between you two.

“Ms. Targaryen will see you now,” the assistant at the front desk tells you and you slip your phone into your pocket.

Rising on shaky legs, you take a breath to steady yourself before straightening your shoulders and heading into the office.

Rhaenyra sits behind a large desk, one hand incessantly clicking her computer mouse, the other playing with a crystal sphere. She rolls it under her palm, the sound echoing off the wood. You’ve been here a few times before; the office is open and inviting, with large windows bathing the room in golden afternoon light.

She still doesn’t speak, and you nervously wet your lips, preparing to verbally flagellate yourself before her.

“Rhaenyra–” you begin, but she silences you with a hand, not looking away from the computer screen in front of her.

“Do you see what they’re saying now?” she murmurs, hand under her chin, “Rhaenyra the Cruel… did you know what they called me when my father was alive?”

You’re not sure if the question is rhetorical or not so you remain silent. Rhaenyra glances at you then and you shake your head.

“The Realm’s Delight. Quite the fall from grace if you ask me,” she clicks her tongue and closes a tab, leaning back into her chair, “Take a seat.”

You do as you’re told, sinking into the leather armchair positioned in front of her.

“So,” she begins, bringing her hand under her chin, “Quite the predicament you’re in.”

Your chest tightens as you meet her lilac eyes.

“Rhaenyra I am so sorry,” the words spill from your lips, “I never meant for any of this to happen. The embarrassment I’ve caused you– to Jace. I completely understand asking for my resignation or dismissal. I deserve to be dismissed I–”

“Sweet girl, I’m not dismissing you,” Rhaenyra says, her brow furrowing, a soft expression on her face.

Your heart hammers in your chest, face flooding with warmth.

“You’re not….” your voice trails off, sounding smaller than you’d like, “you’re not firing me?”

The corner of Rhaenyra’s lip tugs upwards in a small smile.

“That would be quite hypocritical of me, now wouldn’t it?” she says softly, leaning her elbow on her desk, “You haven’t done anything that warrants that.”

“But Jace—”

“—knew exactly what he was doing when he hired the photographers in the first place,” she finished, cutting you off.

Your heart nearly stops beating altogether.

Jace.

“He’s smarter than he looks,” Rhaenyra tells you, absorbing your flustered expression.

“But…why—”

“You were a loose end,” she tells you, “And you were getting sloppy. There’s enough scandal my family deals with. Jace is my son. My first child. You’ve got a smart head on your shoulders, invaluable to our campaign….but you don’t love him.”

The truth of her words cuts through you like a knife. A dull ache forms between your ribs, and that horrible thought appears in your head, the one you’ve been trying to push away for months now.

I’m a bad person.

No, that’s not true. It just wasn’t Jace. It wasn’t him. It couldn��t have been him.

“I could have,” you insist, “Maybe.”

Liar.

“Don’t,” Rhaenrya says with a small shake of her head, “Don’t do that. Don’t settle for duty’s sake. Don’t dismiss your desires for that.” Her voice is rough and thick with emotion.

She did, you think to yourself. She still does.

“You’ll sign a non-disclosure agreement of course,” she says, rolling her eyes, “It’s being drafted as we speak. Necessary, of course, not a slight against your trustworthiness.”

“I understand.”

“I had no doubt you would. There is greatness in you, raw talent,” she continues, “With or without him.”

You can tell from the look she gives you it’s not Jace whom she refers to. Your lips part, but no words come out. Rhaenyra presses her lips together, nodding to herself.

“I’ll expect you here tomorrow, regardless of the results,” she says, going back to her computer. Her eyes flicker across the screen for a moment before looking back to you. She waves a hand, dismissing you, “That’s all.”

Jace is waiting when you leave Rhaenyra’s office. His head hangs low as you approach, brown curls longer since the last time you’d seen him. He offers a forced smile, avoiding your gaze.

“Why?”

You know it's unfair of you to ask. The scorned lover selling pictures of his scandalous cheating girlfriend. Revenge served cold on a silver platter. Everyone was siding with Jace, as they should. You knew you were in the wrong. Jace opens his mouth to speak, then closes it once more.

“You could have–,” you struggle to find the words, “You could have talked to me–”

“I just can’t end up like my dad,” Jace admits, “Married to someone who doesn’t….who isn’t..” his cheeks turn pink, “I care about you, Y/N, I do…..and I want you to be happy. And being with me won’t bring you that.” Jace lets out a deep sigh, “And as much as I care about you, I’m not in love with you.”

Your heart drops into your stomach and your blinking rapidly increases, “I didn’t–”

“What?” Jace asks with a small smile, “I’m not completely clueless.”

It’s your turn to blush as he reaches for your hand, gently squeezing it.

“It’s alright to be selfish,” he says softly, his brown eyes warm and kind as they hold your gaze, “You deserve to be.”

You inhale a shaky breath and return his smile with one of your own. He gives your hand a final squeeze before letting go–letting you go.

As he turns down the hall you call out to him.

“Jace!”

He turns on his heel, walking backward.

“Thank you.”

He shrugs, “Don’t thank me yet,” he warns and you don’t have time to ask him why before he rounds the corner, disappearing from your sight.

“You lucky bitch.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” you chuckle at Sara’s reaction to your news, propping your phone on the counter.

Sara shakes her head in disbelief before the Facetime cuts, a small warning signal replacing her smiling face.

“Where are you?” you ask, tapping the screen.

“Can you see me?” she asks.

“No.”

“Goddammit,” she groans, “I’m at Kingsroad Station. Mr. Stark paged me– he’s working late to watch the election results at the office.”

“You’re a dutiful assistant, trudging to Direwolf at this hour,” you tease, glancing at the clock. Election results should be out within the hour.

“Oh you know it,” she barks out a laugh, “I had to go downtown and pick up his dinner.”

“You wanna rain check our evening?”

“Fuck no!” she insists, and you can practically hear her pout, “I’ll Uber from Direwolf, and be there by midnight.”

“If you don’t get caught up,” you continue to tease your best friend.

“For the last time, I am not sleeping with him.”

You frown. Something was definitely up with them.

“You know you can tell me,” you press, “I’d never judge you.”

Sara sighs, “Yeah you better not, you tart. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

“Love you,” you tell her, and she returns the sentiment before the Facetime ends.

You place your phone face down on the counter, glancing at the TV in your living room. You’ve had the news on all evening, on mute of course. There’s no need for commentary. You just want to see how Rhaenyra is fairing in the polls.

The green and black bar at the bottom of the screen looks about equal.

Wandering around your kitchen you open the fridge pulling out a half-empty bottle of wine. Pouring yourself a generous glass you take a long sip, letting the alcohol warm you.

It’s been a waiting game all evening. All year, truly.

A knock startles you, and you put your glass on the counter and towards the door. It’s so like Sarah Snow to show up early when she says she’ll be running late.

“I thought you got caught up–” Your words die in your throat as you open the door revealing Aemond.

If you weren’t so surprised you would have slammed it shut in his face, but the pause gives him the leverage he needs. You’re a moment too slow and he presses his foot between the door frame as you try to shut it, his hand slamming against the wood keeping it open.

“Go away,” you tell him, continuing to push.

“Just listen to me–”

“I have nothing to say to you–”

“I’m not asking you to talk. Just listen,” Aemond insists, his voice breaking with desperation, “Five minutes. Please.”

Reluctantly, you remove your hand from the door. With a frustrated sigh, you turn on your heel, walking down the hall. Aemond follows close behind, shutting the door behind him.

“Three,” you call over your shoulder, grabbing your wine glass. You take a sip for courage, beginning to turn to face him, “And if you so much as–” you nearly drop your glass as you face him.

Aemond’s hand is held out before him, Jace’s necklace dangling from his slender fingers. The diamond J catches the light, sparkling. Your mouth goes dry, cheeks warming at the sight. Eyes lifting to meet his, you can’t find the words to speak.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, “Look….I never…this wasn’t…” Aemond takes a deep breath, steadying himself, “I’m not good at this.”

The J swings from the chain, a pendulum on a string.

“I knew it,” you whisper, hand reaching up to your throat, feeling where it should lay.

“It was just a game,” he insists, “Until it wasn’t.” Your eyes lift from the necklace, meeting his gaze. “That night on the beach….” He lowers his arm. The pendulum swings. “Look if you don’t feel the same–”

Your stomach turns.

“Go,” you breathe, barely audible.

Aemond tilts his head to the side and murmurs your name causing your eyes to squeeze shut.

“I want you out.”

“What can I do?” he begs, “Please.”

“Go grovel to someone who cares,” you snap, eyes opening, “Storm’s End, perhaps? Seems like you have some making up to do with Floris.”

You step forward, snatching the necklace from him, and throwing it against the wall. It bounces off with a small noise before dropping to the floor. Aemond’s tongue pokes his cheek, his eyes flashing with anger.

“I don’t fucking want Floris!” he snaps, “I want you.”

You freeze, watching his chest rise and fall with anger.

“You didn’t want her?” you ask and he shakes his head, “Did you fuck her?”

Aemond’s eye widens, a fraction of an inch but it's noticeable. A bitter laugh leaves your lips.

“It was before we–”

“You men are all the same,” you seethe, glaring at him, “Pretty words and no action. Of course, you fucked her.”

“Y/N, it was before us, before we ever–look I haven’t so much as touched her since we–”

“Well then here’s your chance!” you interrupt, “I’m sure she’s a wreck. Wallowing on her yacht just waiting for you to jump her bones.”

Aemond flinches as though you’d slapped him.

“Stop it.”

“You’re so talented with that tongue, useless apologies included. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste–”

“Seven hells enough!”

His yell silences you. You stand before each other, chests heaving with anger.

“You want forgiveness?” you ask, cocking a brow at him, “Get on your knees.”

Aemond’s eyes widen at your words.

“What?”

“You heard me,” you snap, cheeks warm with rage, “On your knees.”

There’s a moment where you think he’ll leave. Where he’ll say to hells with you and storm out of the apartment, go to Floris, and leave whatever happened between you in the past.

Instead, he drops to his knees with a soft thud. Your lips part, admittedly surprised by his sudden submission. He doesn’t put up a fight and doesn’t give a tongue-in-cheek retort. He simply raises his gaze looking up at you between silver lashes.

You take a few steps back just as his hands begin to reach for you. You revel in his confusion, as his eyebrows knit together, and a smirk appears on your face.

“Crawl.”

His Adam’s apple bobs and you hold his gaze, violet and blue eye watching you closely. It takes a moment, but Aemond slowly lowers his torso until it is parallel with the floor; his palms splayed across the wood floor.

Aemond releases a shuddering breath, glancing up at you between silvery lashes, long hair cascading in front of his face shielding the redness that blooms on the apples of his pale cheeks. Blood roars in your ears as he begins to move, crawling towards you. His movements are slow and purposeful and you grin triumphantly as he reaches you.

“Satisfied?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

The corner of your lip twitches. Aemond meets your eye at your continued silence.

“Beg.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” you tell him, surprised at the dominating tone in your voice, “You’re sorry? Beg me. Beg my forgiveness.”

Aemond pushes himself onto his knees, leaning back on his haunches. He swallows, eyes watery.

“Please,” he says softly.

You reach for him and brush the hair from his face. He closes his eyes at your touch.

“Please, what?”

“Please forgive me,” he says through gritted teeth.

You hum, letting your fingers trace the scar that mars his face.

“I don’t know if I’m convinced.”

Aemond groans as you trace his jawline, letting your fingers press against the pout of his lips. He parts them as you push forward, pressing down on his tongue.

“Please,” he says, though he struggles to around your fingers.

You huff out a laugh, removing the digits.

“Pathetic.”

“Please! Let me prove how sorry I am,” he insists, hands gripping the back of your thighs as you attempt to step away, “Please…please let me.”

You raise an eyebrow at his desperate plea.

“Let you what?” you ask innocently.

“Let me eat your pussy–baby, please–”

“You think you deserve to?” you cut him off, placing two fingers under his chin.

“No, no I don’t,” he says, shaking his head, fingers digging into your thighs, “But I want to make you feel good, please–”

You tilt your head to the side, taking in the man beneath you.

“Lay down then,” you tell him, “On your back.”

Aemond eagerly obliges as you remove your sweats. Nothing remains underneath. You choose to leave your oversized t-shirt on. It’s your turn to kneel, sinking to the hardwood floor.

“Don’t move,” you tell him, crawling over him until your pussy rests above his face, “You touch me with anything besides that tongue of yours, and I’m getting off, and you’re getting out. Got it?”

“Yes,” he says softly, warm breath fanning across your soaked center.

“Good,” you praise him, lowering your cunt to his eager mouth.

Aemond moans against you as he spreads your wet folds with his tongue. He greedily laps at your pussy as you grind against him, pleasure crawling up your spine and warming your belly with every stroke of his tongue.

Your hands reach up to play with your tits, pinching and tugging your sensitive nipples as he works his magic. His tongue stiffens below you, dipping into your clenching center and you can’t stop the whine that claws its way out of your throat. Head thrown back, you lift your hips, ignoring the burn in your hamstrings as you ride his face as his tongue explores deeper inside of you.

You’ve never had him like this, completely at your mercy, lying stiff and compliant below you with his hands curled into fists at his sides. The veins on the back of his hands are bulging, as though his control might snap at any minute.

You simply can’t help but taunt him a bit.

“So good,” you moan with another roll of your hips, “Feels so good Aem–”

A muffled broken whimper sounds from below you and he picks up the pace, tongue eagerly fucking up into you, meeting the movements of your hips. His nose cascades against your clit so pleasantly stoking the fire building in your belly, the tightening of your release soon to follow. Your knees ache pressed against the hardwood.

“Fuck–fuck!” your legs shake around his head as you fall apart, fingers tangling in his hair as his lips suction around your clit. Pleasure crackles through your veins like fireworks exploding in the night sky.

You wait a moment, Aemond not moving, before swinging a leg over him and crawling off his face. You scoot backward, tugging your oversized t-shirt down over your ass as your back meets the wall. You try to even your breathing, wiping some sweat from your brow as he sits up, the bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal.

“Better?” he asks, pushing himself into a standing position, and offering you his hand.

You chuckle breathlessly, but accept all the same, letting him pull you to your feet.

“Fantastic,” you answer. Aemond nods, wiping his mouth with his middle and index finger before sucking them into his mouth.

“Had your fun?” he murmurs, watching you.

“For now,” you tell him, smirking again.

He reaches for you and you dip out of reach. A dangerous glint appears in his eyes as he reaches for you again. You avoid his reach, dipping under his arm and hurrying into the kitchen. Aemond follows, a wolf stalking its prey. You’re sure he’s allowing you this chase, he could catch you if he wanted to.

You press your back against the island as he rounds the corner, fingers dragging across the marble countertop. You don’t move, don’t breathe as he slowly walks closer.

“You done?” he asks, his mouth hovering over yours.

“I’m never done,” you whisper, leaning forward and nipping his lower lip, “You better get used to it.”

Aemond groans, his hand cupping the back of your head and molding his lips to yours.

Everything that follows is shrouded in a desperate lust-filled haze. His hands cup the globes of your ass, lifting you onto the island. You tear his shirt from his chiseled frame, and he does the same with yours, leaving you bare on the counter.

“Should I?” he asks, dipping to kiss the spot between your shoulder and neck. You bite your lip, raking your nails against his scalp, “Shall I assume you’ve forgiven me?”

“Just fuck me Targaryen,” you tell him breathlessly, “Then we’ll see.”

He needs no more convincing.

You pull at his belt, shove his pants down releasing his thick cock, reveling in the way his jaw slacks as you squeeze him in your hand.

“Fuck,” he murmurs as you guide him towards your dripping center, “Gods you’re so beautiful.”

You bite your lip, humming happily at his praise as he slowly sinks inside of you. Your eyebrows concave, tears welling in your eyes at the generous stretch. It’s been a while since you’d had him–since you felt this deliciously full. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed him, how hungry you’d been for this feeling until now.

Aemond bottoms out, not moving for a moment, simply resting his forehead against yours. His blue and violet eyes meet yours as you steady your breath.

“You alright?” he asks, his lips brushing against yours.

“Yes,” you breathe, “Feels..” You lose your train of thought as he moves his hips, dragging his cock along the sensitive walls of your cunt. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he slowly rolls his hips against you. “So good.”

“You know how much I missed this pussy?” Aemond murmurs, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, “It’s all I fucking think about. This pretty. Little. Pussy of yours.” He punctuates his confession with several hard thrusts.

One of your hands falls to the counter, holding yourself up, the other thrown around his neck, a fistful of his silver hair trapped in your grasp. Aemond’s hands hold your hips, hard enough to bruise as he continues his hard, even strokes.

“Fuck,” you mewl arching your back, pressing your chest closer to him. Anything to get closer.

“You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” he admits, a muscle in his jaw twitching, “Since the benefit. The hotel. The fucking Hamptons.” His head dips to your neck and he bites down causing you to cry out, “You like that? Driving me crazy?” You clench around him, walls fluttering.

You’ve never heard Aemond so emotional, so raw. Almost vulnerable.

“Then you don’t speak to me,” Aemond says, placing a kiss on your collarbone, “Fucking brat.”

“Fuck you,” you snap, tugging his hair and forcing him to look at you, “You hurt me.”

Aemond stills, holding your gaze.

“You hurt me,” you repeat, feeling him throbbing inside of you as you keep him warm, “What you said, on the beach….” Your eyes water, “I believed you–”

“I meant it,” he says suddenly, “Every word. Every word, and more.”

“More?” you ask.

Aemond tilts his head to the side.

“I’m in love with you,” he says, as though it should be obvious. As if your world hasn’t just completely tilted on its axis. “I’ve been in love with you. And I don’t plan on stopping.”

Your lips part.

“I’ve tried. Tried to ignore it, to do what is expected of me,” he admits, “It’s no use. There’s no getting over you. It’s you.”

“I love you too,” you tell him, and his lips crash against yours.

Aemond lifts you from the counter then, still nestled inside of you before bringing you to the couch. He sits and you push yourself up, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you begin to ride him. All the while he doesn’t stop kissing you, smiling as he does so.

“That’s it,” he praises as you roll your hips against him, “Just like that baby, that’s my girl.”

You whine at his words and grind down against him, taking him as deep as you can. Aemond breaks your kiss momentarily to wet his fingers, dipping them between you to massage your sensitive clit. Your body tightens, your jaw slacking at the additional stimulation as your thighs begin to shake.

“I can’t–” you insist, legs tiring. Aemond flips you over immediately, laying your back on the couch and slinging your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Poor baby,” he teases, his tone boarding on condescending, “She just wants to get fucked, doesn’t she?” He quickly sets a brutal pace, the head of his cock rubbing against your G-spot with each thrust.

Stars appear behind your eyes and you can’t help the sob-like moan that leaves your mouth. Aemond’s open-mouthed grin is answer enough to how fucked out you must look and sound.

“This all you need?” he taunts, “Just need me to fuck you real good?”

“Yes!” you cry out, nearly choking on the word.

“I got you, baby, I got you,” he murmurs, “Let me do all the work. You just lay there and look pretty.”

“Oh gods–” you cry, “Fuck!” Your pussy spasms around him as you come, clenching around his thick cock with a vice-like grip. Aemond’s jaw slacks and he moans, finishing inside of you. The warmth of his release fills you.

He pulls out slowly, letting your legs fall gently to the couch. Aemond leans back, dropping to the floor in front of the couch, his large hands holding your thighs open. Your head feels like it’s full of cotton and you watch him as a fucked out smile appears on your face. Aemond’s fingers gently spread through your outer lips, watching as his spend drips out of you.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs, leaning forward and kissing your pussy. You squeal in surprise as he holds your thighs open, lewd slurping noises filling the room.

“Aemond! Seven hells–” you whimper as your head lolls on the couch. Your hand finds his hair once more, holding onto it for dear life as he slips two eager fingers inside of you.

“I can’t help it,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your clit, “You’re too pretty when you come.” He curls his fingers against your g-spot, a man on a mission, “Show me, pretty girl. Come on, come for me again.”

His mouth latches onto your clit and he hums as he suctions it between his pouty lips. Pressure builds quickly in your stomach and it's all too much, your third release barely through you knocking the wind from your lungs.

“There it is,” he murmurs as he feels you tighten around his fingers, “There’s my pretty, pretty girl.”

You finish with a cry, tears spilling down your cheeks at the overwhelming ecstasy. Aemond presses soft kisses against your thighs as you come down from your high. He removes his fingers carefully before helping you. He wanders around your apartment before finding the bathroom, returning a moment later with a damp washcloth.

“You have a nice tub,” he says softly, “Would you like a bath?”

The thought is so enticing that you nearly melt into the couch.

“Later,” you murmur, “I want to see the results.”

“Later then,” he agrees, watching you closely.

You don’t want to speak, don’t want to ruin the moment between you, but you can’t help it. Anxiety pools in your belly as he kneels between your legs, dragging the washcloth against you gently.

“What now?” you ask softly, avoiding his gaze.

“Now….” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, “I’m not sure.” He reaches toward your face, forcing you to look at him. “But whatever is next, we’re in it together. If that’s alright with you.”

You lean into his hand, pressing your lips against his palm.

“That’s alright with me.”

After several minutes of Aemond cleaning you up, you return to the couch dressed back in your sweatpants and t-shirt. Aemond has retrieved his pants from the kitchen as you glance at the television.

“Holy shit,” you say sitting up, eyes glued on the television, “Holy fuck.”

Aemond turns following your gaze and looking at the screen. His eyebrows raise.

“Well fuck,” he says suddenly, and you hear your phone begin to buzz from the kitchen. Aemond’s as well; the vibrations buzzing against the floor where it must have slipped out of his pant pocket. “Son of bitch did it.”

You meet his eyes before staring at the screen once more. At the blond man popping champagne at his victory party. At the green letters across the bottom of the television.

Aegon Targaryen wins!

note: thank you for the love with this series that wasn't supposed to become a series- I appreciate you all sticking it out for this one and hope you enjoyed it! lots of love MWAH 💋 Jo

if you'd like to be notified when I post please follow and turn on notifications for @sapphire-writes-updates in lieu of a taglist!

like this story? check out more of my work HERE 🖤

as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated but never expected. appreciate you reading no matter what!

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hyunjins-orange-slice-too · 2 months ago

Text

beautiful

pairing: boyfriend hyunjin x skinny fem reader

genre: comfort, soft smut

word count: ~2.2k

warnings: reader is insecure about her body, crying, pet names, unprotected sex

an: this is for the person that requested this in my dms (it won’t let me tag you but i’ll send you a message that i posted it!) and it’s also for @jsabimi (she didn’t necessarily ask, but i also wrote it for her lol i hope that’s okay) i really hope i did this one right. i am a chubby girl myself, so i don’t really have the reference for feeling too thin. im really nervous to post this but i tried my best to put myself in that frame of mind and i just hope it turned out okay. i hope it’s comforting because yall deserve that. ♡

masterlist • chubby girl version w chan

‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼ adults only • mdni ‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼

it was a normal sunday. soft lofi music played in the background as you bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up after lunch. your boyfriend had disappeared to his room, suddenly saying the urge to paint struck him and he must not ignore it. that was a normal thing for him, so you just chuckled and agreed. he hadn’t been gone but ten minutes when you could hear him calling.

“angel?” he called from down the hall. you continued wiping the counter with a cloth as you called back to him. “yeah?”

“could you come in here please?”

you folded the towel up nicely and sat it next to the sink, before padding your bare feet down the hallway. you poked your head in the room. hyunjin was at his desk, papers strewn across, paint tubes precariously perched on the edge. his hair was every which way, having run his fingers through it over and over. he turned when he heard you approaching.

“could you come here, my love?” he stuck his hand out, reaching for you. you smiled and crossed the distance of the room, placing your hand in his. he pulled you into his lap. he looked down at you with soft eyes and brushed your hair over your shoulder, exposing your neck. he kissed you there, gently, no hidden meaning or lust behind it, just a simple peck. “do you think you could pose for me?” he asked, kissing the material of your t shirt that covered your shoulder.

your stomach turned in knots. pose for him? like how? you looked at him. “i don’t know hyune..”

“please? i want to paint but i need inspiration.” he nuzzled his nose against the skin of your throat. “and you’ve never let me paint you before.”

he was right. and it was for good reason. him painting you meant you had to sit and let him look at you for who knows how long. just sit there and let him study your body. you didn’t think you could do it.

“why don’t you paint me some flowers?” you suggested.

“i’ve painted so many flowers.” he whines. “i want to paint you.”

tears started welling up against your waterline. you wanted to make him happy, but you really didn’t think you could do this. and that made you feel.. ridiculous. a single tear fell over your cheek and landed on his wrist. his head snapped up, analyzing your face.

“angel..” he soothed. “why are you crying?”

the acknowledgment of your tears only made them fall quicker, soft streams flowing down your face. he did his best to catch them with his fingers. “you don’t have to pose for me. i didn’t mean to make you cry.” he guided your head to his chest, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing gently. you sobbed quietly into his shirt.

“lovely, where is this coming from?” he whispered.

your hands balled in the material of his shirt, your head shaking back and forth, unable to get the words out.

“did i do something?” he asked. “let me help you.” he rubbed soft strokes across your back.

you took a deep breath, doing your best to calm yourself, before looking up at him. he was blurry through your tear filled eyes but you could still see the concern on his face. “posing for you.. is scary.”

he wiped your cheeks, petted your hair, did anything he could think of to comfort you. “why is it scary, my love?” he took one of your hands in his and squeezed. “it’s just me. there’s nothing to worry about.”

you looked down at your joined hands. “i don’t want you to look at me..”

an expression of pure confusion washed over his features. “don’t want me to look at you?” he thought about it for a second. “angel, i hate to break this to you, but i look at you all the time. it’s one of my favorite things to do.”

a watery chuckle escaped your throat at that. “but looking at me for a moment is different than studying me for a painting.” you tried to explain yourself. “i’m not.. pretty enough for a painting.”

“where in the world did you get the idea that you’re not pretty enough for a painting?” his heart hurt at your words. “if anything, you’re too pretty. i’m not sure my painting skills would do you justice.”

“you’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend.” you sniffled.

he thought hard about what he could do to make you see what he sees. how he could make you understand. he thought if you would just let him paint you or draw you, that maybe you could see. “do you trust me?” he asked suddenly.

you nodded without hesitation. you trusted him more than anyone else.

“even if it’s scary, trust me. okay?”

you nodded again, your nervousness growing.

he patted your thigh twice. “go sit on the bed for me.” he kissed your cheek before gently shooing you in the direction of the bed.

on shaky legs you did as he asked, awkwardly perching yourself on the edge of the mattress and facing him. he grabbed his sketch pad and a pencil and held them in his lap. “now take your clothes off.”

you eyes widened in fear. “hyune..” you said in protest.

“do you trust me?” he interrupted. you nodded again. “it’s just me and you, angel.”

your eyes welled with tears again as you grabbed the hem of your oversized shirt. it fit you more like a dress and that’s the way you liked it. it did its job to hide everything. but if you took it off.. everything would be visible. you started to spiral. has he ever seen you naked in the daylight before? maybe he doesn’t really know what you look like. would he think you looked bony? would he be disgusted?

“baby you’re overthinking.” he said. “i’ve seen you bare before, and you’re so beautiful. this is just a different setting. it’s okay.”

you wondered for a fleeting moment if he could read your mind. and with a deep shaky breath, you lifted your shirt over your head and dropped it on the floor. you had your eyes closed, you arms wrapped around your middle. the cold air giving you goosebumps.

“there you go, pretty.” he smiled. “now your pants.”

the pants seemed easy after your top was off. you kicked them to the floor, leaving you in just your bra and panties. you still had your eyes closed, not wanting to see his face, to see the disappointment that must surely be in his eyes.

you heard him exhale, a shaky sound. “now.. uh.. could you lean back? rest on your hands?”

you did as he asked, putting your hands behind you and resting on your palms. you felt fully exposed now. your body shaking with fear. you worried that your ribs were visible. that your hips were poking out. but you refused to open your eyes to check. keeping them closed was the only thing keeping you from panic.

he exhaled a shaky breath again. “my love.. you are breathtaking.” you could hear his pencil scraping against his paper, slowly and then quickly, slowly and then quickly, as he drew lines and shaded shadows.

after what felt like forever, sitting in the same position, you got lost in your own head, with your eyes closed and the rhythmic sound of his pencil, you felt peaceful. you didn’t notice him get up from his chair and cross the room. he knelt on the floor in front of you and reached out to touch your thighs. but he didn’t want to startle you. “angel..” he breathed out, a soft whisper.

you opened your eyes to find him kneeling between your knees, slowly bringing his hands to your skin. your breath hitched in your throat as his lithe fingers came in contact with your soft thighs. he gently spread them apart, his fingers ghosting up to your waist. he slotted himself between your legs, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you closer. he kissed your skin. kissed your hips at the hem of your panties, kissed your tummy just above your belly button, kissed your ribs under the cup of your bra, kissed your sternum. your hands found his hair, you insecurities slowly fading away with each kiss.

“you’re stunning.” he mumbled against your skin.

you shook your head no, unable to believe him, but loosing focus with him being so close.

“you’re perfect.”

he looked up at you through his lashes as he expertly unclasped your bra behind your back. he detached his lips from you to help you remove the clothing item and tossed it over his shoulder and onto the floor. his lips immediately returned to your skin. his tongue found your nipple, swirling and flicking. he watched as your head fell back, your mouth open. he was doing his best to commit it all to memory, doing his best to take in every detail so he could put it to paper later. he crawled up your body, his lips never leaving you, but traveling up. he kissed your collarbones, your neck, your jaw, and finally your lips, as he helped you recline back onto the sheets.

he kissed you deeply as he hovered over you, one hand supporting his weight, the other hand rubbing softly over your panties. you sighed against his lips, your body tingling. his tongue explored your mouth, he tasted of the coffee he had with his lunch.

your hands roamed under his shirt to feel his torso, running up and down the expanse of muscle. the hand he had in between your legs, gently pulled your panties to the side. he slipped his middle finger between your lips. “so wet baby..” he breathed against your mouth. “so beautiful.”

he slipped a finger inside, and then another, slowly pushing in and pulling out, curling them to touch that special spot inside. your nails dug into his bare shoulders, a gasp falling past your lips. he continued his motions, the sounds of your arousal floating in the air around you. and too soon for your liking, he removed his fingers and sat back on his heels. he looked down at you, admiring. and you could see nothing but love in his eyes. maybe a pinch of lust clouded his vision, but mostly love.

“you are so beautiful.” he ran his fingers over the skin of your tummy. “i could never paint this. i could never get it right. but god i want to try.”

he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down, along with his boxers, kicking them off. he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it in the same direction of his pants, a growing pile of both your clothes on the floor.

he grasped himself in his hand, rubbing up and down, spreading his arousal along his shaft. “do you see what you do to me?”

“please..” you reached for him, quietly begging.

he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed himself in. his body fell on top of yours. one hand cradling your head, the other hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers together. his head was buried in your neck, kissing and licking your skin as he breathed in your ear. you moaned at the feeling of him inside of you. “my love..” he breathed. “so beautiful, my love.. fuck..”

his thrusts increased in speed and you fluttered around him. “feels so good..” you whined.

“you’re a goddess..” he kissed your neck and bit your earlobe. “i can’t last much longer.. cum with me.”

and with a sigh of his name, you let go around him, squeezing him, causing him to release inside you with a whimper.

he collapsed next to you, breathing heavy and kissing every inch of skin he could reach with his lips. he collected himself for a moment, enjoying this proximity, before pulling away and standing up. you admired his body, his muscled back, as he returned to his chair at his desk.

“where are you going?” you pouted.

“i have to finish the sketch.” he said, grabbing his pad and pencil. “i got too excited earlier while looking at you and couldn’t finish it.” his face flushed with his confession and you smiled, eyes falling closed in a state of bliss.

you were almost asleep when you heard him get up and return to the bed. he sat next to you and presented you with the sketch. you looked at the paper and then looked at him, shocked. you sat up and took the paper from him, tracing the lines with your finger. “hyune.. this is..”

“beautiful?”

you looked at him. it was. that’s what it was. it was beautiful. “this is me..?” you asked in disbelief. but of course it was. you could see it. it was clearly you. the point of your nose, the curve of your shoulder, he even added a little color on your cheeks and lips. it was definitely you and it was beautiful.

“this is how i see you.” he said. “and it doesn’t even come close to capturing how truly stunning you really are.”

and for the first time.. you kind of believed him. you could see it with your own eyes. a work of art in front of you. and you were sure that your insecurities would return. but now you knew, that in those moments, you could return to hyunjin. return to his sketch, and be reminded that you really are beautiful.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

am i posting this at 11am on a tuesday? you bet i am. when inspiration strikes, you gotta roll with it. ik ive been posting a lot of ramblings and depressing shit on my blog recently and i really appreciate you guys letting me do that. am i back now? idk. i hope so. fingers crossed. ♡

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #hyunjin stray kids #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin imagines #stray kids smut #hyunjins orange slice too

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rin-fukuroi · 9 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

If you want to support me and read my other works that won't be on Tumblr, you can always do it on my Boosty~

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairings: Ayato, Kaeya, Thoma, Neuvillete, Tartaglia x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, modern AU, established relationships, intimate photos, masturbation.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. P1Harmony - Do It Like This

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

Hey! I think you all miss the dick pic. Although no one asked me to do this, but you don't need to ask me even once to bring you something to eat! Enjoy your meal ( ˘▽˘)っ♨

✦ Ayato

You'll have to try very hard, having endured all the cunning tricks of this man, in order to get a response photo from him immediately after he asks you to do your own.

Initially, it sounded like another joke, very typical for Ayato, but he was very surprised when you took it for a real request, pleasing the man with your piquant photo at perhaps not the most appropriate moment when he was at an important meeting. Fortunately for him, Ayato has enough self-control not to show how aroused he was by the image of your seductive body in front of strangers, but unfortunately for you, he just couldn't resist taking advantage of this opportunity.

It's always fun to play on your guilt, but when adding to your favorite collection of photos is at stake, a special excitement wakes up in Ayato. Of course, although you continue to play along with your lover from time to time, you yourself begin to get a taste. How much longer will he last, continuing to read your dirty messages and looking at the new photos that you took for him, before he snaps and just leaves work only to come home and fuck you to a state in which you'll not be able to not only type, but even pronounce his name? Ayato knows perfectly well what you are doing, so he staunchly withstands your attacks, believing that you yourself don't realize what you have just signed up for.

When he gets home, you better immediately wait for him on your knees without extra clothes, hoping that this will at least smooth out your future punishment a little, because if you think that Ayato will let you cum as fast as you want, then you're damn wrong.

As for his photo for you… Perhaps you still don't deserve to get them enough, but he'll definitely choose the most unfortunate moment for you to put you in an awkward position when one day a charming and insanely seductive photo of his naked body and an excited dick appears in your dialogue, to which you'll not have access. Next time you'll think twice before playing along with this scheming man, but isn't that why you fell in love with him?

✦ Kaeya

art by @cheng25598

Kaeya doesn't even know what would be better, to discourage you with his unexpectedly racy photo or to start by forcing you to do it? But he's so carefree and lazy that he doesn't think long before just sending you a photo of his horny cock while he's dying of boredom waiting for you at home on his day off. Of course, he doesn't care at all that you at work and how, perhaps, all the colleagues around you heard your surprised squeak when you opened a dialogue with your lover.

This is the first time Kaeya has decided to have fun with something like this, expecting you to be embarrassed for sure. It pisses you off that he's right, and your face is inevitably blushing now, while you, trying to look as non-suspicious as possible, run out of your office, hastily closing yourself in the bathroom.

[Y/N]: Wtf, Kaeya?! I'm at work!

[Kaeya]: I just missed you;)

His carelessness will drive you to your grave someday, but you bite your lower lip, suddenly meeting the reflection of your flushed face in the mirror. You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to be at home right now, punishing your annoying lover properly, which is so obvious from the way moisture begins to accumulate between your thighs, settling on the fabric of your underwear. There are still a few hours until the end of the working day, but you're so infuriated by the ease with which Kaeya manipulates you once again, involving you in his dishonest game when you nervously glance at the door, taking a photo in the mirror, as close as possible to the concept of «sexy» in such an environment.

You were about to put your phone in your pocket, sending your reply photo with the indifferent caption: «Glad for you. See ya in two hours», expecting it to calm him down for a while, but didn't even expect to instantly hear the notification sound.

[Kaeya]: I don't think a photo in underwear will be enough to compare to what I sent u:( Or are u afraid that one of your colleagues will see what we doing?

[Kaeya]: If I were wit u right now, you'd have to hide a lot more obscene things.

[Y/N]: Huh? Do u really think u'd make me undress in front of u in the bathroom at my job?

You really don't know how Kaeya do it, but for some reason you fall for his provocations every time, now feeling the heat that you can no longer ignore burning your lower abdomen more and more, while your eyes slide over the most obscene lines that you've ever read, even considering that what kind of person you decided to connect your life with.

But one thing is for sure — now Kaeya's goal is no longer to dispel his own boredom, but to make you cum in one of the cramped booths while he enjoys driving you crazy with his unsurpassed talent for eloquence, describing in detail how he would fuck you in each in the corner of a small bathroom.

Next time, perhaps Kaeya should pay you a personal visit.

✦ Thoma

art by @sonomi_rap5

Poor Thoma almost dropped out of his hands all the groceries that he decided to buy before returning home when he felt the vibration of the phone in his pocket, almost sure that this notification was from your message. You often write to him, knowing what time his working day ends, and asking him to grab something from the store, but this…

The confused man hastily turns away from all the people passing by, huddled in the corner of one of the shelves, when an attachment to your playful message appeared in front of his astonished green eyes, which said that you were looking forward to him at home. Is that new underwear?.. Thoma feels his cheeks flush with a bright blush, and his heart is pounding so wildly in his chest as he desperately tries to put aside all obscene thoughts. But this is hardly possible. You are so charming, adorable, divine in this photo, which he instantly saves before fixing his mesmerized gaze on him for a few more moments, feeling his cock harden and rest against his thigh.

«I'll be home soon!», — is the only message you get before Thoma disappears from the online, and you can't help but chuckle softly, imagining with what excitement and embarrassment he'll pay at the checkout.

As for him… Your gallery has been filled with his photos, perhaps not as soon as you would like. On the one hand, teasing a nice guy like Thoma is very funny, but on the other hand, you didn't want to embarrass him by luring him into your entertainment, which is not even the fact that he'll like it. But still, at some point you think that your relationship is strong enough not to collapse from one of your innocent… okay, obscene requests.

You'd like to see the look on Thoma's face when he saw the message with your dirty request. After a couple of minutes of silence, you were about to say that it was all just a joke, before you hear the notification sound, hurriedly grabbing your phone.

You have no idea where he hid to quickly take a cute photo for you, in which you can barely see anything because of the darkness in the room that Thoma chose for the photo shoot, but it's so charming that such a modest guy like him went to such obscenities for you, even at the risk to be noticed at your own work.

Thoma gets incredibly nervous when he doesn't get an answer from you for a long time, but he frantically looks at the inscription that you are typing something. Oh, should he have taken a better photo, or was it just a joke that he took seriously? But all his doubts and worries fade into the background, giving way to even greater embarrassment than what Thoma experienced when he received such a piquant request from you, when you send him a photo in response, but this time without clothes. The accompanying message contains detailed descriptions of how much you miss him and that you can't cope with how you miss your beloved boyfriend next to you to quench your thirst to feel his cock from that cute photo that he sent you, inside yourself.

What are you doing with him?.. It should be illegal to corrupt such an innocent guy in this way, but Thoma is really happy that he got the most beautiful girl in the world who is able to make him commit follies, just like he is now locking the door of some dark storeroom in his office, unable to cope with the desire that has captured him body and mind.

He doesn't know why you like to embarrass him like that, but… maybe he's starting to like it.

✦ Neuvillette

It's not that Neuvillette didn't know how to use a phone at all, but let's be honest, this skill wasn't even necessary for him until the day you appeared in his life. Making the necessary calls and occasionally using banal SMS was all he was capable of, so using messengers was something new for him, which, of course, Neuvillette needed your help to figure out.

At first, both of you just exchanged innocent short messages, because, you knew, he couldn't often be distracted from his work due to an increased sense of responsibility, but one day a fleeting thought came to your bright head, which you managed to grasp and even decide that it would really be funny to just send Neuvillette your candid photo in the middle of the working day.

And really, what will he do about it?

Neuvillette is so sweet in his seriousness and responsible approach to literally everything in this world, which makes him a wonderful partner, but your hands have always itched so irrepressibly to throw something like that, knocking a stoically calm man out of his rut.

When you saw that Neuvillette had read the message, but had been silent for ten minutes, you almost thought that he had just decided to ignore your prank, but you had no idea what was really going on. After opening your message, Neuvillette just froze, not understanding what he should reply or do. It's the first time this has happened to him, and he's really discouraged.

The most respected and responsible judge doesn't say a word, just staring at his phone for ten minutes? This definitely doesn't go unnoticed. Although he is not particularly sociable, worried colleagues still wonder if everything is all right with him, finally bringing the poor confused Neuvillette out of his stupor. His head really had thoughts of consulting with someone on this topic, but he decides that this question is still too intimate to ask it to an insufficiently close person, so he has no choice but to solve this puzzle on his own and briefly unsubscribe to you that he'll be at home soon, before silently leaving the office.

To say that you were shocked to see Neuvillette on the doorstep of your shared house as soon as possible after receiving his message is to say nothing. But what struck you even more was when he hurriedly threw off his suit, with all the seriousness that only he is capable of, silently climbing onto your bed.

— Neuvi, what are you doing? Why aren't you at work? — you interrupt the man when he was about to throw off the rest of his clothes, before pausing, giving you a puzzled look.

— I got your photo.

— Yes… and?

— I thought you wanted to have sex, so I came home.

— Is that all?..

— Yes. Isn't that what you wanted? Why are you laughing?

p.s. After half an hour of an embarrassing but laugh-provoking conversation in which you explained to Neuvillette that couples sometimes exchange intimate photos while away from each other, it seems that the man finally realized for what purpose you committed such an uncharacteristic act for you.

Well… everyone learns from their mistakes. Next time, you might be lucky to see his inept first intimate photo if you tell him how to switch to the front camera before that.

✦ Tartaglia

art by @eriimyon

For both of you, sharing any photos when you are away from each other is quite common, but Childe was still the first to dilute your usual correspondence, accompanied by cute and funny photos of your dog and what you cooked for dinner, with something more piquant.

Your lover, without any hesitation, asked you to take a photo for him when, on another of his long business trips, he felt too lonely away from you, and didn't even think about what he might receive a refusal to his request. You can say that you are both on some kind of your common comfortable wave, so you are happy to approach the task set before you even with some degree of creativity, making a photo of your breasts covered with whipped cream for Childe.

«This could be your dessert after dinner;)», — Childe is both touched, excited and saddened by your funny photo caption. He would like to be next to you to enjoy such a tempting dessert, but all he can do is take a photo for you in return.

[Childe]: Unfortunately, i didn't have cream next to me, so this is all the dessert u can count on!

You would have laughed at his joke if the dick on his photo that Childe took for you didn't look even more attractive than any sweet thing you can imagine. This is the first time that you have to describe in words all the things that you would do with this amazing cock, but it also had its own charm.

Your correspondence eventually ended in a rather heated conversation on the phone, which also came to naught as soon as the degree of tension between the two of you was so high that the only thing coming from the speakers of your phones was only moans and heavy sighs, while you were already in complete disarray, too lost in your own obscene fantasies. Perhaps Childe has never in his life masturbated with such pleasure as to the sounds of your sweet voice, holding in his head that image of you that was captured in a racy photo taken especially for him, just as you have never experienced an orgasm from how damn sexy his muffled moans sound in the speaker of your phone.

Of course, this is still so insanely little, but since then you both have a new common entertainment that you can do on lonely evenings to get over the separation. On the other hand, you have seriously opened a real Pandora's Box, now putting the idea in Childe's head that he can tease you in this way, so be prepared for the fact that one day you will receive a dirty message from him or even just a photo at the most inopportune moment (although no one said that you can't return the favor).

p.s. if u know the author of the rest of the art, write me their nicknames in private messages, and i'll add them in the post, because I have been saving these arts for a long time ago and now cannot find their owners:(

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tiamathh · 6 months ago

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PAC Bites: Dreams

Who is sending you messages in your dreams and what do they mean??

Do not plagiarise, reword, steal, repost my work!

1 -> 3

Note: Hello! I'm Wi, previously on ukiyowi~ Welcome to my first PAC on this acc, I hope you guys like it <33 Take care and have a lovely day. Check out my Masterlist for more! <3 (there's not much rn lol). LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE V APPRECIATED!!

🌟 Masterlist

Pile 1

Hi Pile 1! Your dreams are being sent to you by your ancestors, they are trying to communicate with you and may be trying to show you glimpses of the future, maybe a little prophetic.

Your dreams are sending you messages that there is a lot of fear and anxiety that has embedded itself in your mind these days. You are being unable to stay focused, and your anxieties may be exaggerating the negative outcomes related to your work and school. The message you are getting is that you have been isolating yourself too much, and this isolation is also leading to a dissonance between what you want and what you need right now. There needs to be a change, but you want to keep continuing on the path that you are on even though you KNOW it is not right. Your dreams could have imagery related to falling or something breaking down, something like doctor strange almost? Everything is getting destroyed around you while you are stuck/trapped and unable to move, maybe even imagery of natural disasters, earthquakes particularly. It's saying that if you don't make a change, the universe will make it for you. You may be feeling helpless, but your dreams are trying to tell you that you could be victimising yourself and the powerlessness you feel could come from your environment and that you need to move, could be related to controlling partners or parents. I also heard "Weightless" like you need to let go of your past burdens and bury them so you can move forward like truly move forward, nothing superficial. Your dreams themselves could be very heavy like you wake up tired and as if you did not get proper sleep even when you do. The dreams are asking you to learn from your past hardships and be patient for your hard work to pay off, take small steps towards change but at least take those steps and don't stay immobile.

Keywords: Cancelled travel, head, influence, rope, bow, predator, memories, unwilling, your values, your community, dead snakes.

xoxo

Pile 2

Hi pile 2! You are receiving messages from your future partner, some intuitive messages about them, they are someone who is very energetic and charming, they can be someone with a big beautiful smile like a very warm smile and also like smile wrinkles because of how jolly they are constantly, someone confident and flirty, they are hot and they know it!

They are sending you messages that they are on their way and that you don't need to compromise or settle down, stay stubborn and fight for what you want because you deserve it. Your persistence is what is going to help you get to the top. Even though some of your dreams have been shattered and things may not be going your way, where you could feel like you are underachieving, you need to reduce the self-criticism and make changes and take the criticism in a constructive way so that it does not turn into self-hate. Your dream could also have imagery of cheating/lying and someone deceiving you, maybe literally pulling a cloth over your eyes. There is a message your future partner is sending you that there is someone around you may be an air sign/Gemini who could be using you for your resources, and they are very cunning like they will step on other people to get to the top, so be a little wary of them. You may have dreams of someone faceless too? Maybe feeling warm and comforted by their presence, this could be your future partner!! Lastly there is a message about authenticity and that you do not change how you are and who you are, stay honest and witty and strong, you are protected by the universe.

Keywords: spy, club, taurus, conventional, traditional, partnership, duality, complementary, mutual respect, blinded, blind trust, 777

xoxo

Pile 3

Hi Pile 3! You are the ones sending messages to yourself, it's the future version of you, because as we know time is not linear, but they come to you with good news and wanting to give you more strength.

They are sending you some messages about what your future is going to look like, you will be wealthy and stable and be able to reach the goals you have set for yourself, even if it will take time. A main message here is that everything will start going forward and pick up pace once you begin anew and form partnerships and friendships with the people around you, right now you are stagnant and that is because you are in the energy of solitude, but once you get out you will be able to enjoy life and have fun again and your career will see a lot of growth as well! You may have imagery of celebrations, and you could be having vibrant and colourful dreams as well, maybe money involved in there too. You need to depend on the people around you for now, and work hard because that's how you will see the results that you want, and you clearly will get them based on the messages coming through. See through what you start, do not let projects you start be left unfinished because it can put you in financial trouble or put financial strain on you, leading to you being held back from being able to use your resources fully. You have a lot of options right now, and you need to narrow them down, be a little grounded too.

Keywords: Legends, distracted, withdrawal, rumination, idealism, rose-coloured glasses, living in the past, experience the present.

#pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #tarot readings #tarot reading #tarot community #tarot #tarotblr #tarot cards #intuitive readings

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icyg4l · 7 months ago

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PAC: July 2024 Predictions

Hello beautiful people! This is my last week posting/sending readings out for a while! I will be back, but I just need a moment to focus on real life. So if you would like to book a reading with me, don’t hesitate to message me privately! Anyway, tonight I will be talking about your July 2024. So please, without further ado, please select the pile that resonates with you!

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-3)

Pile One: I heard "weighing out your options". I think you may be in the middle of figuring out your taste in love. However, you may be making a risky decision. Remember this everything that feels good ain't always good for you. This month, you will learn to be stingier with your love. Also, there may be someone around you that is negligent. There is no reason to take the high road with them, you need to figure out what goes on and come up with a resolution to prevent this from going on any further. I feel like you will be cutting ties with someone who has been embarrassing you. It will be sad and hard to do, but you only have one life. I also heard "count your blessings". You need to see the light in today. Act like you care about what's going on around you. There is someone who has been picking with you, it's time to cut them off! I see you feeling relieved by the end of the month (only because Leo season aka the best season has startedddd) Overall, this month seems like a good month to start over. Reignite the passion in your life and start today!

Pile Two: "Plagued with confusion" is what I just heard. I feel like this July will be kind of hard for you, Pile Two. There is something that will feel off about this month. Get your mind out the gutter, for one. But also, there is something that is feeding on your energy. It feels vampiric. A person who treats you like a baby or has a newborn baby could be significant. You are your own person. You show up as yourself and get the job done! But you have to stop letting people take advantage of your innocence. I'm watching this anime called Nana. Nana K is the very innocent, perky, loving friend who wouldn't hurt a fly. That's you, Pile Two. But just because you wouldn't hurt a fly, doesn't mean the fly won't hurt you. It seems as though you will be on a quest for independence. Trying to find your way while also trying to see what's your niche. You are young and you will figure it out. Don't let anyone tell you thank you can't. If you really want it that bad, then it can be achieved. This is cliche to say, but just believe! "Wish Upon A Star!" could be a relevant movie to you.

Pile Three: You could be taking a trip out of the country. Barcelona comes to mind. I see you also being receptive to food requests as well. You may be a picky eater, but this month you won't be, lol. Some of you are in summer school, trying to bring a grade up/trying to make the next school year easier. You should try to receive counseling as much as you can. It will ease your mind and in return, your grades will be much better. I heard the word proficient. During this time, you could find yourself doing a lot of backpacking. This is very specific but if you have been praying on someone's downfall, they will receiving their rightfully deserved karma. I am hearing a leprechaun laugh. This is someone's abusive ex or manipulative ex-bestie. I think that you will try to keep your calm this month. You should repeat mantras to yourself, everyday. Maybe you should listen to some more Jhene Aiko. I heard Kevin Gates??? LOL! You will be in touch with your feminine energy during this month so try not to be so active. Be ready for anything, beloved. And lastly, some of you will try out for a sports team. You'll get in because of your connection to the coach or one of the primetime players. Also, some of you could be going to a sports game for free because of one of the players/coaches.

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callsign-jinx · 25 days ago

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A Rebel in my Soul [2023 ver.] | Ch.4: Time to target: three minutes

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!pilot!reader (Call sign: Rebel)

Word count: 5k

Warnings: swearing, flying exercise, worried Jake (that deserves a warning), and also Idiot Jake, mutual pining (even tho nobody seems to notice duh), and maybe i'm forgetting something.

A/N: it's been a whole minute since I posted this, but i still want to rewrite it and get rid of the of version, because it was my first series and has a lot of mistakes, There are a few changes in this version, and a lot more descriptions. Won't be tagging anyone for this but if someone wants to be, let me know on the comments or send an ask!

An hour after Hangman walks out, fed up with watching Rooster flirt with every person who enters the bar, you start to gather your things. Part of you wishes Hangman had stuck around a little longer; it was nice talking to him, almost like discovering a different side of him. That is, until he reverted back to his usual asshole self. As you're saying goodbye to the other aviators, your bike keys dangling from your finger, your phone beeps with a new message. The name on the screen brings a small smile to your face.

Iceman.

Iceman: Honey, you cannot mop the floor with your father’s ass on the first day. It’s not healthy for the family relationships.

Reb: I was just doing my job, Uncle Ice.

Iceman: Breaking the hard deck?

Reb: You know too much to be on a medical leave, don’t you?

Iceman: I brought you two here; of course I know what you’re up to.

A smile tugs at your lips. Iceman had recommended both of you to Cyclone when the mission came up, knowing that if anyone could handle it, it would be his nephews. He always called you that. You remember summers spent at Iceman’s house, watching in awe as your father and he bickered over old mission memories, each convinced they were right. He was always the cool uncle. Pun intended.

He was also the one who told you, despite your father’s objections, that you were meant to be a pilot. It was in your blood. And God knows, the world could always use more incredible pilots like Maverick.

Reb: He tried to fix years of resentment in a dogfight, Ice. Can you believe it?

Iceman: Actually, I can. That’s your father’s style.

Reb: He almost got us killed.

Iceman: And yet I heard that he was the one to pull up first.

Reb: You really know too much.

Iceman: You need to forgive your father, y/n.

Only a handful of people called you by your real name instead of your call sign, and Iceman was one of them. It sometimes made you feel like a child again, like he was scolding you for running around the house the way you used to. But for Iceman, calling you by your name was his way of reminding you that you, Y/n Mitchell, would always be his little girl.

Reb: If he wants me to forgive him, he needs to explain why he did what he did.

Iceman: He won’t tell you.

Reb: Do you know why?

Iceman: Yes, honey. I know why he did it.

Reb: Could you tell me?

Iceman: I wish I could... but it has to be him.

Reb: Yeah... you’re right. How you holding up?

Iceman: I’m better. I can even talk a little.

Reb: That’s amazing, Uncle Ice! I’m so so happy for you.

Iceman: How’s Rooster? Is he doing okay?

Reb: He’s still too cautious for his own good. He’s having problems following the rest.

Iceman: He needs to be faster...

Reb: Yeah...

Iceman: Be careful out there, okay? And don’t be mean to the other kids.

Reb: I’m not the mean one?

Iceman: Do I have to remind you that time you threw Rooster in my pool because he said that you were tiny?

Reb: He’s the giant.

Iceman: As I said, don’t be mean to the other kids.

Reb: Okay, Uncle Ice. See you soon. Love ya.

Iceman: Love you too, kiddo.

If only you had the time to visit him. But between the nonstop work and exhaustion, there’s barely enough time to catch your breath. You make a mental note to try and see him next week, before the mission.

As if the day hadn’t already been stressful enough, your bike refuses to start when you sit on it, ready to leave. Not again. It might be old, but it’s your first bike, and it’s special to you. Lately, though, it’s been more trouble than it’s worth.

After several more attempts, the engine finally roars to life. You pull away from the bar quickly, a million thoughts swirling in your mind. Rooster, Maverick, Hangman, and Iceman fill most of them. It never crossed your mind that Iceman might know the reason behind Maverick’s actions. But the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. After Goose’s death, Iceman was the closest thing Maverick had to a best friend. If anyone knew, it would be Admiral Kazansky.

Hours later, after a sleepless night and way too much coffee, you find yourself in the briefing room, ready to finally learn what this mission is really about. The room is empty, just you for now. You take a seat, close your eyes for a few seconds, and silently pray to whatever is listening—that this mission won’t be as suicidal as the rumors suggest. There’s still so much you want to do, so many places you want to go. You’re not ready to give it all up just yet.

All over the base, it feels like everyone knows something you don’t. When you or the other aviators walk into a room, people glance at you with admiration—and sometimes, with a hint of sympathy. They all share some unspoken knowledge, and it’s unsettling.

"Morning, Rebel," you hear Hangman’s voice break the silence.

"Morning."

You keep your eyes closed, focusing on the sound of his footsteps as he approaches. A small part of you wonders which version of Hangman you’ll get today—the usual asshole, or the surprisingly nice guy you met last night at the bar? It’s a little intriguing. He stops beside you, the leather of the seat creaking as he leans over it.

"Are you okay?"

Seems like you're getting nice Hangman for two days in a row.

"Yeah, don’t worry. I’m just a little tense." You open your eyes and find him looking at you with a soft expression, his eyes filled with something almost tender. A reassuring smile crosses his face as his hand moves from the seat, gently patting your shoulder.

"It’ll be okay."

For some reason, his words settle you a little. You nod and smile softly, feeling the tension ease, even if just slightly. You’re about to thank him when Rooster’s voice cuts through the air, making Hangman step back. He takes a seat at the farthest row of chairs, away from you.

Bradley nudges you with his elbow as he sits next to you. "Chin up, Reb."

For a moment, you don’t even care about the mission anymore. Well, that’s not entirely true, but right now, you can’t stop thinking about Hangman. He’s been surprisingly nice to you for the past 24 hours. Can someone really change that quickly? And why, of all people, has he chosen to show you this side?

You glance at him. He’s chatting with Coyote, who had walked in just after Rooster. Hangman’s signature cocky smile is back, probably followed by a few arrogant comments about his skills.

Your thoughts drift back to yesterday. His sweet, almost irresistible smile. The warmth in his laugh, the way his voice lacked its usual narcissistic edge. The feeling of his skin brushing against yours. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it all night.

He walked into the room and checked on you, as if it weren’t the most unusual thing for Jake Seresin to do.

There’s a rumor that someone once had a crush on Jake when she first saw him back in the Top Gun days. He was young, handsome, and definitely a bit of a ladies' man. But your foolish, young heart didn’t care about any of that. For better or worse, nothing ever came of it, and Hangman quickly proved himself to be nothing more than a charming idiot.

Now, when you look at him, you can't help but wonder—can people actually change?

“Time is your greatest enemy,” Maverick begins, finally outlining the objective of the mission. “Phase one of the mission will be a low-level ingress attacking in two-plane teams. You’ll fly along this narrow canyon to your target. Radar-guided surface-to-air missiles defend the area. These SAMs, they’re lethal. But they were designed to protect the skies above, not the canyon below.”

Every aviator in the room exchanges uneasy glances, the gravity of the situation sinking in. You glance at Rooster, his focus locked on the screen.

“That’s because the enemy knows no one is insane enough to try and fly below them.” Rooster mutters, voicing the unspoken thought that’s on everyone’s mind.

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna train you to do.” Maverick replies, his voice unwavering.

Rooster glances at you, eyebrow raised. Yeah, this is classic Maverick bullshit.

“Great, another suicide mission,” you mutter under your breath.

“On the day of the mission, your altitude will be 100 feet, maximum,” Maverick continues, unfazed. “If you exceed this altitude, radar will spot you, and you’re dead.”

“100 feet?” your friend whispers, disbelief in his voice.

“Roos, this is impossible.”

“Your airspeed will be 660 knots minimum. Time to target: two and a half minutes. That’s because fifth-generation fighters are waiting at a nearby airbase. If you try to engage them head-to-head in your F-18s, you’re dead. That’s why you need to get in, hit the target, and be gone before those planes even have a chance to catch you. Time is your greatest adversary."

You glance at Hangman. He’s smirking, clearly relishing the challenge. He’s probably already planning to be the first one to nail it.

You almost laugh when Maverick says, "Today, we'll be easy."

Max ceiling: 300 feet. Time to target: three minutes.

And that’s supposed to be easy?

Gradually, all members of the team get a chance to try to make it on time, following the parameters and course that are marked on the screen. To call this mission "almost impossible" would be an understatement. None of your teammates make it to the target on time—some surpass the 300-foot ceiling, others hit an invisible rock wall. You manage to hit the target with only a second to spare, but you know that’s not good enough. If you want to survive on the day, you’ll need to be at least 30 seconds faster. Rooster makes it to the target, but he’s a full minute late. You can already feel Maverick’s gaze on him, knowing exactly what’s coming.

When you all file back into the briefing room after the exercise, you brace yourself for the worst.

Maverick projects a simulation of Coyote, Phoenix, and Bob’s run on the screen. You watch as miscommunication between the team leads them to failure—each mistake compounding the next. Their timing is off, their formation is sloppy, and every second counts. The message is clear. This mission isn’t just about speed; it’s about precision, coordination, and being perfect under pressure.

“Why are they dead?” Maverick asks, his tone cold and cutting once the simulation ends.

“We broke the 300-foot ceiling, and a SAM took us out,” Phoenix explains, her voice tight with the sting of failure.

“No. Why are they dead?” Maverick’s gaze shifts to Coyote, who’s clearly the one who needs to answer.

Coyote exhales, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his mistake. “I slowed down and didn’t give her a warning. It was my fault.”

“Was there a reason you didn’t communicate with your team?” Maverick’s words are sharp, pointed. You can’t help but agree—the exercise would’ve been a success if they had communicated better.

“I was focusing on...” Coyote starts, but Maverick cuts him off, his voice biting.

“One that their family will accept at their funeral.”

Ouch. That one lands hard. Even you wince at the weight of the words.

“None, sir,” Coyote responds, voice barely above a whisper.

Maverick doesn’t pause. He moves to Phoenix, his gaze steely. “Why didn’t you anticipate the turn? You were briefed on the terrain.”

Phoenix opens her mouth to respond, but Maverick doesn’t give her a chance. “Don’t tell me. Tell it to his family.” The room goes dead silent. The tension is palpable as Maverick turns, his eyes scanning the group for the lesson that should’ve been learned by now: this is real.

Maverick shifts to the next simulation: Hangman, Payback, and Fanboy. You’re not even surprised when Hangman goes full throttle, leaving the other two behind. He’s living up to his name, no question about it.

“What happened?” Maverick asks, his eyes narrowing at Hangman.

“Well, I flew as fast as I could. Kinda like my ass depended on it,” Hangman replies, that trademark smug grin plastered on his face. You’re starting to wonder if he has two different personalities—one where he's cocky and reckless, and another where he genuinely thinks he can be a different person.

“And you put your team in danger, and your wingman’s dead,” Rooster jumps in, cutting Hangman off before Maverick can lay into him. His voice is firm, not letting Hangman wiggle out of it.

“They couldn’t keep up,” Hangman shoots back, as if it’s that simple. You roll your eyes. Seriously, two personalities.

“Are you serious?” you mutter, not holding back. Hangman turns to look at you, his smirk widening, but then his gaze shifts back to the screen where Maverick is already prepping your simulation. You focus, mentally preparing yourself. You watch the simulation play out, noting the areas where you need to be more careful and the places where you could push yourself to be faster.

“This is a great example of how it’s done. We just need to be faster here. Good job, Rebel,” Maverick praises you, and you nod awkwardly. The words hit you harder than you expected—good job. You haven’t heard praise like that from your father in years, and it feels… strange. Almost foreign.

The last simulation starts, showing Rooster, Yale, and Harvard making their way through the course. They’re moving slower than required, and even though they hit the target, it’s clear they’ll have to dogfight their way out. The stakes are high.

“Why are you dead?” Maverick asks, his tone sharp. “You’re team leader up there. Why are you, why is your team dead?” The disappointment in his voice is almost tangible. You can feel the weight of his expectations. Maverick, after all, had to be expecting more from Goose’s son.

“Sir, he’s the only one besides Rebel who made it to the target,” Phoenix speaks up, cutting through the tension, trying to give Rooster some credit.

Maverick doesn’t respond right away, but the way his jaw tightens tells you all you need to know. The lesson here isn’t just about hitting the target—it’s about how you do it and when. It’s about leading your team, not just yourself. And coming back home in one piece.

“A minute late. He gave enemy aircraft time to shoot him down,” Maverick states bluntly.

“You don’t know that,” Rooster affirms, defensive. His voice is tight, but there's a certain stubbornness in it—like he's trying to hold onto something.

Well, if the situation were different, and there were actual enemy aircraft on that course, Maverick’s right. A minute is more than enough time for them to close the gap and take you out. You hate to admit it, but Rooster's being reckless.

“You’re not flying fast enough. You don’t have a second to waste,” Hangman chimes in, his voice steady, almost like a mantra. You can almost picture him saying it to himself every morning as he stares into the mirror, trying to convince himself he’s the fastest.

“We made it to the target,” Rooster snaps, his tone dangerous now. He’s fuming, but the anger in his voice is clouding his judgment. His fists are clenched at his sides, and you can see how hard it is for him to swallow the criticism.

“And superior enemy aircraft intercepted you on your way out,” Maverick counters, trying to reason with him, trying to explain why the time delay cost them more than just a minute. It cost them survival.

Rooster doesn’t say anything for a moment, but you can see the internal battle playing out in his eyes. He’s not just fighting the mission, he’s fighting the legacy of what happened to his father.

You hate to admit it, but Maverick’s right—Rooster needs to set aside his resentment and listen. The mission isn't about proving something to everyone else; it’s about surviving.

“Then it’s a dogfight,” Rooster shoots back, his jaw set.

“Against fifth-generation fighters,” Maverick responds, the weight of the situation clear in his voice.

“Yeah. We’d still have a chance.”

“In an F-18,” Maverick adds, almost as if he’s reminding Rooster of the very real limitations.

“It’s not the plane, sir, it’s the pilot,” Rooster retorts, not backing down.

“Exactly!” Maverick nods, a touch of admiration in his tone.

But then Rooster presses on, undeterred. “There’s more than one way to fly this mission.”

“Roos…” you try to intervene, your voice low but firm, sensing the conversation is escalating. Both of them are getting heated, and you know this is the last place for a confrontation like this. The team can’t afford it.

Rooster doesn't listen. “You really don’t get it. On this mission, a man flies like Maverick here, or a man does not come back. No offense intended.”

You glance at Hangman, who’s smirking again, that stupid look plastered across his face. You can tell he’s just itching for a fight. Something in him is shifting, like the real Hangman is back—reckless, arrogant, and determined to push every button he can find.

“Yet somehow, you always manage,” Bob mutters from the side, always quick to throw in a jab when Hangman’s involved.

“Look, I don’t mean to criticize. You’re conservative, that’s all,” Hangman says, his voice dripping with condescension. You know he really means every word. There’s no subtlety in his tone.

“Lieutenant,” Maverick tries again, his voice tight, trying to stop this before it goes any further. But Hangman doesn’t stop.

“We’re going into combat, son, on a level no living pilot’s ever seen. Not even him. There’s no time to be thinking about the past.” Hangman says it, looking straight at Rooster. The words hit hard, and in that moment, something clicks inside you. Hangman knows about Goose. How the hell did he find out? You don’t know, but it’s clear he’s using that information to twist the knife, to get under Rooster’s skin.

Rooster’s jaw tightens, his body rigid as he leans forward. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice is controlled, but the anger is simmering just beneath the surface. You can feel it, the way his fists clench at his sides. You know exactly where this is headed, and you’re ready to step in before it completely derails.

“You better stop talking, Hangman,” you warn, your voice low and steady. You’ve seen this play out too many times, and you know Hangman’s about to push all the wrong buttons.

“Rooster.” Maverick tries, his voice low and firm, trying to cut through the tension, but neither of them is backing down. The atmosphere is charged, like it’s moments from exploding.

“I can’t be the only one who knows Maverick flew with his old man,” Hangman continues, his smirk widening. He knows exactly what he’s doing. The room goes deathly quiet, and you can feel the weight of the words hanging in the air. He’s digging at something deep, something raw, and you know it’s hitting harder than anyone realizes.

“Lieutenant, that’s enough,” Maverick’s command is sharp, his voice laced with authority, but Hangman’s not done.

“Or that Maverick was flying when his old man…” Hangman trails off, letting the words hang there, teasing the tension to a breaking point. You can feel Rooster’s body vibrating with rage, and you know—this is it. The dam is about to break.

You brace yourself. It’s about to get ugly, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it now.

Rooster gets up of his chair and grabs Hangman by the collar, ready to punch him in the face. Luckily, the rest of the team reacts quickly enough to stop them. From the corner of your eye, you see Mickey leap over the chairs in front of him, moving fast to get to Hangman before the situation escalates further. You’ll definitely owe him a drink for that later. Maverick is already between them, his presence commanding as he tries to defuse the chaos. You grab Rooster by the arm, pulling him back, while the others step in, each of them doing their best to separate the two.

“That’s enough,” Maverick shouts.

“You’re a disgusting piece of shit.” You say getting closer to him, but Bob grabs you before you can do something crazy.

“You son of a bitch!” Rooster shouts. You’ve never seen him this angry.

“I’m cool. I'm cool. Hey, hey,” says Hangman, smiling. He’s a complete idiot.

“That’s enough.”

“He’s not cut out for this mission,” Hangman says, looking at Maverick with that insufferable, proud smile. “You know it. You know I’m right.”

Maverick’s gaze hardens, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he gives a sharp command, “You’re all dismissed.”

You leave the room faster than everyone else, your heart racing. You’re almost running now, not caring if anyone notices. You just need space, away from him, away from all that tension.

But then you see it—Hangman, strolling toward the locker room, that same arrogant swagger in his step. Your pulse quickens, and without thinking, you follow him. You don’t stop to second-guess yourself. You walk in right behind him, determined.

"Hangman!" Your voice cuts through the silence, sharp and commanding.

He turns, that ridiculous grin still plastered on his face. “Woah, Reb, what’s up?” he asks, acting like everything’s just fine. It’s a challenge. You can feel it in the way he looks at you. He’s not expecting what’s coming next. The slap on his face leaving him staring, eyes wide, with a look of complete confusion.

“If you just think about Rooster’s father ever again, I swear to God it will be ten times worse the next time.”

“What are you gonna do? Tell Daddy that some kid is being bad with your friend?” Hangman’s mocking tone hurts more than anything. You feel the disappointment in your heart, twisting it. Did you really think that someone like Hangman could change? How stupid.

“I told you, he might be my father, but he doesn’t want me to be here.” You say it again, like somehow repeating it will make it feel true, will make the ache in your chest go away.

Hangman smirks, not missing a beat. “That doesn’t mean you don’t have privileges, Little Mav. Everyone here’s noticed.”

His words twist in your stomach, heavy and cold. “They... know?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, as if hoping he’s wrong.

“Yes. Everyone knows. It’s not that hard to see. The attitude, the way he talks to you, how you do the exact same things. You’re just like your father.”

His words hit you like a slap. They don’t sting at first, but they settle into you, sharp and unforgiving. The room feels smaller, suffocating, and before you can stop it, your throat tightens. "I’m not like him," you say, your voice trembling, and the tears threaten to fall, burning your eyes.

You can’t be like him. You won’t be like him. It’s something you’ve fought against for years, something you’ve buried deep. Maybe you’re reckless, maybe you’ve got the same passion for flying, the same natural skill that comes with the Mitchell name, but you refuse to be anything like Pete Mitchell. You don’t pull rank, you don’t ignore the people who care about you for your own ego. You don’t dismiss someone’s dreams just because you think you know what’s best.

You are nothing like him.

“You sure? ‘Cause the way I see it, you’re just daddy’s little troublemaker.” Hangman’s words slice through the air, bitter and cruel.

You stand there for a moment, heart pounding, and try to hold onto some semblance of control. How did we get here? Yesterday, everything was different. Yesterday, there was laughter, lightheartedness... today, it feels like a punch to the gut.

“I thought you were different. I thought you were being nice to me because you wanted to be my friend,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, the hurt seeping through.

He looks at you, but not in the way you want him to. His gaze flicks all over your face, anywhere but into your eyes. His jaw tightens, his posture stiffens. He doesn’t want to let you see how much you’re affecting him. You almost wish he would look you in the eye, to show some kind of emotion. But instead, he just stands there, the distance between you growing with every passing second.

“Thanks, but I don’t need your friendship,” Hangman mutters, his words sharp, like they were meant to hurt.

It’s like a wall between you now. You can feel it—this sudden, impossible distance. You take a step closer, not even thinking about the consequences anymore. For a second, you’re both breathing the same air, so close that you can almost feel the heat of his skin. Your heart aches, but you don’t back down.

How did we end up like this? The question lingers in your mind, unanswered, because you know what’s happening. Yesterday was so different. So good. And now… now, everything feels like it's falling apart.

His eyes finally meet yours, but they’re empty, distant. His walls are up, and you're left with nothing but the echoes of what could have been.

“When you end up alone, and nobody gives a shit about you, you will regret every single decision you’ve ever made. Nobody will ever love you,” you snap, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. There’s a coldness in your chest now, something sharp, something that feels like it’s been building up for a while.

His response is quick, flat. “I don’t need love.”

You laugh bitterly, though it’s not a laugh at all. "Yeah... love is for the living people. And you're dead on the inside.” The words hang in the air between you, heavy and final, like the weight of everything you just realized.

Without another word, you turn and walk away. Each step feels like it takes you further from the person you thought he was, and further into something you can’t quite explain. The tears come suddenly, hot and unbidden, streaking down your face before you can stop them. They blur your vision, making everything around you seem fuzzy and distant, like you’re in a dream.

You don’t look back. You don’t need to. You already know that nothing will ever be the same again.

Jake watches as Y/n walks away, her shoulders trembling slightly, and he feels a knot tighten in his chest. She doesn't turn back. The sting of the words he said to her lingers in the air, and for a brief moment, he wishes he could take it all back. But the damage is done. And just like that, his heart sinks further.

He was so wrapped up in the tension with Rooster that he didn't consider how his words would affect her. Y/n and Bradshaw, they were always a package deal. They had been since they were kids, thick as thieves, tied together by something deeper than just friendship. If you hurt one of them, you hurt them both. And Jake just fucked that up in the worst possible way.

He knows he should’ve shut his mouth. He knows that much. But here he is, standing in the wreckage of his own making. He’s been trying to avoid facing the truth, trying to keep his distance, but the truth has a way of catching up with you—like a punch to the gut. His red cheek burns, not just from the slap he deserved, but from the weight of his own guilt.

Jake never meant to hurt her. That’s the kicker. He never meant to push her away or make her cry. But here he is, powerless to fix it. Every time he thinks about going after her, every time he thinks of apologizing, he freezes. There are no simple words, no magic that can make this right. Years of bitterness, resentment, and his own damn pride are between them now. And he doesn't know how to tear down that wall.

When did things get this complicated? When did the world become a minefield? And when did he—Jake Seresin, the guy who couldn’t give a damn about anything—become the kind of man who cares?

When did he fall for her? That’s the question he keeps circling. He’d been in denial about it for so long. It wasn’t supposed to happen. He had a reputation to maintain. But when he walked into the briefing room this morning and saw Y/n sitting there, looking more vulnerable than he’s ever seen her, something inside him snapped. The sharpness of her fear was there, clear as day, and he felt a pull he couldn’t ignore. He wanted to do something. Talk to her. Touch her. Comfort her. Because as much as she acts like she has it all together, he knows better. She’s scared—scared for the mission, scared for Rooster, scared for herself. She doesn’t show it much, but Jake can see it.

He knows what’s coming. Rooster will be leading this mission. Y/n will be flying. The two of them will be out there, facing a world where only the best make it home. And Jake’s mind can’t stop turning. He knows Rooster is a great pilot. But that doesn’t mean he’s ready. He needs to move past the book, past the fear, or someone will die because of it. Y/n doesn’t need that weight on her shoulders. She’s reckless, yeah, but she’s not stupid. She knows what’s at stake, and if Rooster can’t rise to the occasion, she’ll be right there, doing everything she can to save him. And that thought terrifies Jake.

He doesn’t know if he can protect her. But he knows he has to try.

Jake leans against the wall, his mind racing. He's been so wrapped up in his own issues, so caught up in trying to get under Rooster's skin, that he didn’t even stop to consider the fallout. And now? Now he realizes he might've just crossed a line he can't undo. He’d been trying to get under Rooster’s skin, sure—but if anything, all he did was push Y/n away. And he knows her too well to think she’ll just brush it off.

He needs to fix this. He has to fix this.

Jake's eyes narrow as he thinks back to everything he’s said to her in the past few days, to all the times he made a snide comment about Rooster, to the way he tried to rile him up in the briefing room. All of that—it wasn’t just messing with Rooster anymore. It was messing with her, too. And that, he can't stand. Y/n deserves better. She doesn’t need this. Not from him.

He thinks about how she looked when she walked out, eyes full of hurt, a sharp contrast to the fire she usually carries. That image burns into his mind—her turning away from him, the door slamming behind her. And that's when it hits him: the only reason he’d ever cared enough to get under anyone’s skin, the only reason he’d ever been so reckless in his words, is because somewhere deep down, he’s terrified. Terrified of what Y/n means to him. Terrified of what would happen if he really let himself care.

But it's not just about him anymore. It's about her. It's about fixing this mess he made, even if he doesn't have all the answers. He doesn't know how to make it right, but damn it, he's going to try.

Jake rubs a hand over his face, muttering under his breath. He can’t just keep pretending like he doesn’t care. That’s exactly what he’s been doing—and it’s been a disaster. The mission, the stakes—hell, all of it would be easier if he didn't have to deal with these feelings. But he’s done pretending. If he doesn’t tell her how he feels, how he really feels, before she goes up there—before this mission even starts—he’s going to regret it for the rest of his life.

Y/n’s not just any teammate. He realized long ago that she could be his everything if he allowed it, in a way that scares the hell out of him. But there’s no more running from it. He doesn’t need to be a damn hero on this mission. What he needs is to be honest. About everything. About her. About him. About the way his heart beats a little faster when she’s around, about the way his chest tightens when she’s in danger, about how he’d give anything to make her smile again, to make things right.

He has no idea if she’ll listen. He has no idea if she’ll even want to talk to him after the mess he’s made. But he knows one thing: he can’t let her go up there without telling her how he feels.

Jake stands up straighter, determination setting into his bones. He’s not going to let his girl go into that sky without making it clear that she means everything to him.

The mission is important, yes. But if Y/n doesn’t come back, none of it will matter.

And Jake Seresin isn't about to let that happen without telling her what’s in his heart.

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kiarastromboli · 1 year ago

Text

Teach me 3 (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)

Part. 1. Part.2

Masterlist.

Warning: angst, argument ?

Summary: After being summoned by her principal for what she did with Chris, Y/N sees things take a completely different turn. Unintentionally, Chris will not make it any easier for her, pushing her to make a choice that is more than painful for their mutual well-being.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A week had passed since the incident in the locker room with Chris.

After being summoned, the principal decided to suspend both Chris and me from school for two weeks.

If only that was the end of it…

After the meeting, my parents demanded a serious discussion at home.

“Y/n, I’m trying to keep my calm, but what the hell is this story?”

“This is not how we raised you. What kind of girl sleeps with a guy in her high school locker room?”

“Your behavior is disappointing, Y/n. I expected better from you.”

“For how long did you hide this little adventure with that asshole from us?”

“Do you realize how irresponsible you’ve been? Do you think universities will appreciate seeing this on your school record?”

“Believe me, you won’t see that boy again, Y/n. I’ll make sure you never see him again.”

It was mainly my father speaking, as usual. My mother just cried, casting disdainful glances at me, as if I had ruined our lives with my actions.

As always, it wasn’t about me, but about them. I was their daughter, but I wasn’t really myself. All my life, I had been just their daughter, nothing more. The one time I allowed myself to be me, I ended up making an unforgivable mistake in their eyes.

I was not allowed to go out, and I hadn’t seen my phone since then, so no way to communicate with Chris about what happened.

I felt so guilty for leaving him in the dark like this. Chris knew my parents were strict, but I had never dared to tell him how much.

I wasn’t even allowed to break up with my boyfriend as I wanted; my father took care of sending him a message, making it clear that if he dared to approach me, he’d be in trouble.

It was the first time in my life that I was punished, and the first time I saw my parents so disappointed in me. To be honest, I was disappointed in myself. What had possessed me to do that? What did I hope to achieve?

I hoped to one day be more than just their daughter, seriously, Y/n?

My days consisted of crying, staring at my bedroom ceiling, and rereading the same books over and over. Maybe that’s all I deserved after what I did.

And maybe it was better for Chris too. He and I could never have worked; we could never have hidden this relationship indefinitely, and my parents would never have accepted me being with him.

He loved a girl who didn’t even have the right to exist, and how selfish I was to trust that “we” could ever exist one day.

I had to let him go, even if it broke my heart. I knew that by staying with him, I condemned us to a catastrophic end, and it eventually happened.

It was now 2 a.m., and I was lying in my bed doing nothing. Sleep had abandoned me a long time ago.

Every night when the lights went out, the only thing I could think about was how much I had disappointed my parents, and it haunted me.

*knock knock knock*

I panicked and sat up in bed when I heard the familiar sound at my window.

*knock knock knock*

I knew it was him, but what was I supposed to do?

*knock knock knock*

Oh my God, if he keeps this up, he’ll wake up my parents. I have no choice.

I got up to open the window for him, and he immediately entered, almost pushing me without waiting for my approval.

“Chris, what the hell?!” I said, surprised, as he stumbled towards my desk.

He looked in bad shape, with huge dark circles, disheveled hair, red eyes, and the smell of alcohol.

“My beautiful baby,” he said, placing his hand on my cheek and smiling.

“Chris, have you been drinking?” I asked, concerned, before going to lock my door.

“I missed you so much, Y/n,” he said, sitting on my bed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I sighed.

“Why didn’t you answer any of my messages, baby? What did i do wrong?” he said, looking up at me.

“Chris, you have to leave. You can’t stay here,” I told him, sighing.

“I’m not going anywhere until you answer me,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Oh God, please, I’m serious. If my parents find you here, they’ll kill me. It’s not a joke!” I told him, getting annoyed.

“Y/n, I don’t care about your parents. This is about us!” he said, standing up.

“But what ‘us’ are you talking about, Chris? There’s no ‘us’ anymore!” I replied, feeling tears welling up.

"Y/n, you can't do this to me; I just went through the toughest week of my life without you," he said, breaking down.

"Y/n, look at me, look at the state I end up in without you; I need you," he said, hitting his chest.

I was simply helpless before his speech; it killed me to see him so distressed, and it broke my heart not to be able to do more to help him.

"Look at how pathetic I am without you," he said, grabbing my hand.

"Chris, you have to leave now," I said, feeling a tear roll down my cheek.

"You can't give me the best moments of my life and take everything away like this overnight without giving me an explanation, Y/n. I'm sorry for what happened in the locker room; let me make it up to you," he said, getting upset.

I didn't know what to say; honestly, I wanted to tell him how much I missed him, but I had to let him go. The state he had just put himself in because of me was proof enough that this relationship was not good for him, and that's not what I wanted for him.

"Y/n, we'll find a solution, but you have to explain me the problem if you want us to get through this. I know you're not telling me everything, baby, talk to me," he said, locking his eyes with mine and placing his hands on my cheeks.

And I cracked. I cracked when I saw hope in his eyes, when I saw how much he wanted it to work. It was what I wanted too, but it led to nothing.

It would have been selfish of me to tell him how much I loved him, how much I wanted us to find a solution because I knew I had condemned myself. I knew that by giving him the slightest hope, I risked breaking him even more than I already had.

"Don't make things more complicated, please. I can't do this, Chris, go away," I said, crying.

"Baby, tell me what's wrong," he said in a trembling voice.

"My parents don't want me to see you anymore," I confessed, hoping he would understand, but I knew he wouldn't give up that easily.

"And is that the only problem? Y/n, if that's all, we can continue to see each other secretly. I swear I don't mind; they won't know anything! If that's what we have to do to stay together, then I'm ready to do it, ready for anything. But please, Y/n, don't end everything like this, I beg you," he said desperately.

"No, you don't understand. It will never work. What kind of couple hides their relationship from the world, Chris? You deserve better than that," I told him, shaking my head and stepping back.

"But it's you I want, Y/n. I climbed to your window, and it's with you that I want to spend the rest of my days," he said, advancing toward me.

His words were like shards of glass stabbing into my heart. As long as they remained, I knew the blood wouldn't flow, but I also knew I had to tear them out to heal.

"No, you're just drunk, and you don't mean any of what you're saying," I said, shaking my head and trying to hold back the tears.

"I'll tell you all this again tomorrow when I'm sober, and I'll tell you every day of my life if I have to. But, Y/n, please, I need you; I can't do it without you," he said, a tear running down his cheek.

I stood there, staring at him, crying, and he took me in his arms.

And I felt those same shards pierce my heart again because of the comfort I could find in his arms. I wished to die there, die in his arms.

"I'll fix everything, Y/n, I promise. Let me fix everything for you," he said, stroking my head, and my heart was never heavier than at that moment.

I cried so much I had trouble breathing; I couldn't stop. I was in his arms, and I knew it was probably the last time.

"Y/n, I love you; don't let me down," he said in a weak voice, and I left his arms.

I looked at him with tear-filled eyes; I wanted to scream that I loved him too, but I couldn't. So I closed my eyes and screamed it in my head without letting the sound escape my mouth.

He looked at me confused, and I bit my lip to stop my sobs.

"Y/n, please," he said, sighing.

I shook my head, and he started to move towards me, but before he reached me, I told him everything.

I had to tell him the truth if I wanted him to understand, even though I knew it meant stabbing him in the heart.

"My parents are sending me to another school, Chris," I said in one go.

"What?" he said, confused, stopping.

"They don't trust me anymore. They're sending me to a private school on the other side of the country," I told him, trying not to cry.

He took a step back, completely disoriented when he heard that.

He sat down on my bed and ran his hand over his face, letting out a few sobs that broke my heart.

He had just realized the situation; he had just realized it was hopeless.

I stood there, watching him realize what I had just told him, and it was horrible, but at least now he knew it was over for good.

"It's okay," he said, wiping his tears and getting up. "We'll find a solution, Y/n. I'll come to see you."

"No, Chris," I said, crying.

"Yes, I'll fix it. I'll sort this out," he said, pacing back and forth.

"Chris please..." I sighed.

"I'll just set aside some money to come and see you," he continued, completely in denial.

"Chris-" I said, with a weak voice, still crying.

He lifted his head towards me and immediately came to wipe away my tears. "Don't cry, baby, it's okay, it's not a big deal."

"You have to let me go," I replied in a voice so weak that I almost doubted he heard it.

"No, Y/N, we just got together, stop saying such things," he said with a fake laugh, trying to conceal his sobs before placing his hand on my cheek.

"Chris, you have to let me go," I said, placing my hand on his cheek with a reassuring smile to show him that it would be okay.

"No," he said, letting a few tears fall. "Y/N, I'll handle this, I promise. I'll do it for us," he continued, wiping his tears and placing his other hand on my cheek. "I'll fix it."

"There's no 'us' anymore, Chris; it's over," I said.

"So what, you're going to give up at the first problem?" he said, raising his voice.

"You're just going to throw everything away just because your parents don't want you with me?" he said, getting upset.

"Y/n, fight for us, for me... for yourself," he said, desperate.

I wanted to answer him, but I had nothing left to say; it was too hard. It hurt too much to see him break his heart over me like this.

"I'm ready to fight for you, and you're giving up just to please your parents, seriously, Y/n, damn it," he said, cracking.

He placed his hands back on my cheeks, "You're not going to let your parents separate us, baby, I-," he started before I cut him off.

It was too much for me; I couldn't continue to stand there listening to him beg me to fight for him when I couldn't.

"It's over, please go now," I said, removing his hands from my face.

"You don't mean it, Y/n; you can't even say it properly. You don't want it to end; I told you we'd find a solution," he said, getting frustrated.

I closed my eyes before taking a deep breath; I felt like I was suffocating.

"Y/n, if you want me to leave, look me in the eyes and tell me clearly," he said, clenching his jaw.

I opened my eyes and tried with all my might to hold back my tears.

I tried to contain all my pain; it was so unfair. Why didn't he just let me go? Why did he have to ask me to fight? Why did he keep pushing me to keep hope?

I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice; I had to tear the bandage off at once if I wanted Chris to be happy one day without me.

"Chris, it's over; I want us to separate i don’t love you anymore. This relationship is doomed to fail; go, please," I said in a harsh tone without looking away from him.

And I could almost hear his heart shatter in his chest.

I was dying to tell him that I didn't mean a word of it, but I didn't have the right to condemn him in this relationship.

He turned around and started walking towards my window, and before leaving, he looked at me one last time, his eyes shining with tears.

He was waiting for me to stop him, to grab him by the shirt and kiss him like the first night he climbed through that window.

He was waiting for me to crack like all the other times and tell him everything would be okay.

But this time, it wasn't the case, and when he realized that, he went through my window and left.

I collapsed on the floor; I had just put an end to the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me.

I had just broken my heart and the heart of the man I love the most.

All this would never have happened if I hadn't kissed him that night.

If I hadn't let him into my room and into my heart.

I was convinced that love stories like ours never died like in books; I thought things would eventually work out, and a solution would come to us unexpectedly.

But life is a heartless bitch ready to rip your heart out when you least expect it.

The next week, I found myself packing my bags to leave Boston for good. Chris never climbed back through my window, and I deleted his number from my phone, hoping he would eventually find someone with whom he would have a happy ending.

We were just an anomaly in the system of lines that were supposed to remain parallel but ours ended up crashing into each other.

We consumed each other without knowing that this story had an expiration date, and I pay the price every day waking up far from him.

I pay the price every time I see something that reminds me of him.

A lacrosse jersey, a half-open window, a soda can—absolutely everything brought me back to him.

And I continued to search for a piece of him in every new person I met.

Even though I lost him, my love for him will never fade. Every day, I pray for my day to end quickly so I can find him every night in my dreams.

To the boy who made me realize how good love could feel.

And how painful it could be too.

Masterlist.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo edit #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #angst

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cosmichahn · 8 months ago

Text

PINING

Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader —☆

about: they always said what happens at PECSA, stays at PECSA...but not this one.

warning/s: mild cursing

word count: 2.6k

note/s: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, whoops! but anw, hope you guys enjoy it :)

“Philadelphia 76ers tickets?” You whisper-ask whilst looking at Ava who had just announced it to everyone. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

It’s teacher appreciation week, and to be fair, you just want to see the band club perform for tomorrow’s assembly. It’s a little piece that you helped them prepare for all of the teachers to watch. This one was kept as a little secret from Janine; no offense to her, but you thought she might twist the crooks and nooks a little with the performance if she found out.

“We have a strong contender, everyone.” Ava grins with malice after what you said which left everyone confused.

“Why are you passing on this opportunity?” Janine gasped, sounding as though she had just got offended.

“If it were a concert from an artist I liked, I wouldn’t pass.” You shrug. “It isn’t, and I might just get confused with everything.”

“I know who to give the two tickets now to, oh, yes.” The principal says which then catches everyone’s attention away from you.

Gregory then asks suspiciously. “What do you mean, two?”

“We only have two tickets and I was gonna give them two to only one teacher.” Ava explained, hearing groans from everyone while you decided to silently excuse yourself and head to your classroom which is on the second floor.

---

Some of the morning classes have passed, and thus, the first break of the day before lunch. Set in the teachers’ lounge, chaos was something not to be avoided, until Ava asked for everyone to go to the library for an emergency meeting, as well as ask for a Sprite.

As you were about to go on by yourself, Ava proceeded to send you a message that asked for said Sprite. With a silent groan, but a small feel of relief, you just went ahead quickly. Thankfully, the fast food place with Sprite was near the school anyway.

At first, you were a bit lazy to drive off, but on second thought, the meeting was gonna be about the tickets anyway; so it didn’t really bother you as much. You wouldn’t want to spend half an hour listening to others bickering about tickets, although it would be a funny sight to see them arguing and bantering over who gets the tickets, likewise what Ava would feel if she saw that scene herself.

You were then soon on your way to the library after about 15 minutes of driving there and back where you got yourself something while also including Ava’s Sprite. And as you entered the library, “Sorry for being late, Ava. Here’s your Spri-”

“Here is our winner, the owner of the two tickets!” She announced proudly, presenting you similarly to some kind of prize.

Your eyes widened, and your eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, Ava, no! You know what happened the last time you gave something similar to someone who didn’t want it.” Everyone’s stare then transferred to Daryl and his eyelashes. “And why me? Why not Mr. Johnson?”

“Yeah, she’s damn right. I deserve it!” Mr. Johnson preaches from behind with a broom in his hand, like a staff from some Dungeons & Dragons game.

“Because you don’t have anyone to go with and I can be the perfect match to accompany you to this game.” Ava says with a huge smile plastered on her face. “Unless you’re gonna bring your secret girlfriend to the game. Betrayal.” She then looks at Melissa who catches up on what she just said.

“Oh, she’s not- '' You try to explain, placing the fast food bag on one of the tables. “No, no, Ava, you got it wrong.” You add, chuckling nervously.

“Yeah, that’s not what my ears found out when I heard all the flirting in each other’s classrooms, huh?” Ava teased.

“I think this is a little more interesting than basketball right now.” Janine whispers to Jacob and Gregory with a little laugh that escapes her mouth.

“Didn’t we bet on this?” Jacob replies.

With Gregory saying, “Yes, you guys did.”

It started around when the school year started and you and Melissa began to grow closer to each other after a debacle about different cuisines. She mostly stuck with Italian, and you, on the other hand, explored different dishes from different cultures. It was a mutual love for food; that could perhaps have also turned into a mutual liking and interest for each other.

“It’s just a little flirting, Ava.” Melissa shrugs her shoulders, with you agreeing.

“A little friendly banter.” You add.

“PECSA Weekend.” Jacob says and coughs in between words that earned various curious looks from the other teachers and Janine’s eyes widening with her mouth trying to cover a stifled laugh.

You feel a little awkward while mouthing, ‘What the fuck?’ You shake your head at Jacob, with eyebrows furrowed.

‘For the sake of the tickets.’ He mouths back, giving you an apologetic and yet competitive smile.

After nodding your head at him with a ‘What the living Christ, dude?’ expression, you announce that you will be withdrawing from this ridiculous somewhat of a scam that the district offered to the teachers.

“Yeah, let me just slide out of this room. Settle this yourselves.” You purse your lip, before waving goodbye.

Jacob’s gaze transfers to Melissa’s who looks at him with threat as he gulps in an invisible lump in his throat, making his palms extra sweatier than usual.

---

Meanwhile, just as everyone left the library, Janine and Jacob huddled while walking to their classrooms; with Gregory following them from behind. “I knew it. Something did happen at PECSA.” Jacob says, looking behind him to see if Melissa was behind them or so. “You could say that I am a good guesser.”

“As intriguing as this is, we should just let them be.” Gregory interrupts, before getting laughter as a reply.

“And pass this opportunity for destined love to not intertwine?” Janine raises an eyebrow with a cheeky smile. “Not gonna happen.”

“I’m just thinking of those Basketball tickets.” He says in defense as the two agree.

While that conversation continued on to be about Philadelphia 76ers and board game night, Melissa and Barbara were having a little talk while also heading to their respective classrooms.

“Now how did Jacob know about it?” Melissa wondered with suspicion. She’s fine with people finding out, sure, but she’s thinking of your friendship with her and how some people can be a little extra nosy, which she isn’t a fan of.

“Well, you know Jacob and Janine. Almost always up for schemes and so on.” Barbara says before waving goodbye as she then arrives at her classroom.

Melissa thinks to herself quietly while beginning her class. She enjoyed each and every second with you that night. Intoxicated by alcohol or not, she likes listening to every word you say because it just keeps her ears up. She’s known you for only about a couple of months given that you were only a new teacher at Abbott.

You’ve melted her under your grasp, and though she may be older, you never once made her feel as though she is. You make her feel young and more alive, while at the same time keeping her on her toes. She likes that you reciprocate to her talking about firefighters and different Italian dishes, as well as her family. Melissa isn’t one to trust people too quickly, but she slowly found herself warming up to you.

This has been a constant thought in her head, as well as it’s yours. Just a constant loop. A game of tag. The type of unrequited love that’s obviously mutual love that everyone can see, but manages to not be for both you and Melissa.

---

After that small inconvenience, or say, exposing secrets in the library, you’re now behind your desk with your laptop in front of you while your class is writing an essay.

The laptop is opened just so you can occupy yourself with something. Just some numbers you’re crunching and a few tests that you’re checking up that you’ll return to your students soon.

Your thoughts then wander to that said PECSA weekend. Alcohol was involved, a bunch of Math-a-ritas later and you’re caught up making out with the hot redhead teacher who just so happens to be Melissa. No feelings were confessed that night, but surely those actions meant something. Hopefully. As you would think.

It remained in your head how it felt the way her hands lingered all over your body, the small groans, her lips against yours. It wasn’t a hookup or a one night stand that happened, as all of it was simply just kissing the whole night until who knows what time it was.

You brought it upon yourself to get drunk with Melissa and invite her to your room; it didn’t take her a second to say yes to you before feeling your back against the cold door with her hand trickling over to the door knob to lock it. She kissed you well, and touched you in places she left cold when she sneaked out the following morning.

‘Didn’t want suspicions to linger. Sorry.’ That was the message she sent when you woke up with your clothes disarray and your lipstick smudges, with her trailing on your neck.

That was about a month ago. Surely, some things changed over the course of a month. Exchanging text messages over those couple of weeks changed, you weren’t that close to each other anymore, and the constant ‘What are we?’ lingered in your mind for more than you want it to.

That night changed what you and Melissa had. For the worse or for the better? You didn’t know.

You sigh in your chair, waiting for the bell to ring as this calls for your next lesson, Music. This one is with Janine’s class.

“Deep in thought, Miss?” Amanda asks. She’s one of the students sitting near your desk. Not with worried intent, but with curiosity.

“Go back to your essay, kid.” You look at her as if denying something in mind.

“Ok, Mrs. Schemmenti.” She blurts out before everyone in the room echoed with ‘Oooh.’s Amanda laughs at your embarrassed demeanor before she apologizes that that might have ended up being a little too personal.

As it turns out word got out about Jacob mentioning PECSA weekend, and not only that, but it was heard by one of the students from Jacob and Gregory’s podcast club, This Abbott Life.

---

Music class went by like a quick second as it was just a little jamming session with the second graders from Janine’s class.

It’s the end of morning class which means that lunch is on its arrival. Lunch which meant that you have to face Melissa after what seemed like only a small incident that happened a while ago. And so upon pondering over what to do or where to go just to avoid an upcoming awkward situation, you exit the music room after dismissing the class and decide to go to your own classroom upstairs to eat lunch.

Walking from down the stairs was Jacob who saw you then gulped from nervousness with the awareness of what he did, but surprisingly, you didn’t notice it. Although behind you exiting a classroom was someone Jacob was a little more terrified of. Melissa. She then catches his eyes, making him rush towards the teachers’ lounge.

As you sit quietly in your classroom, on your desk is the lunch you brought and a book you’ve been reading lately. A couple moments pass and you’re indulged in the story you’re reading. It’s a nice book you’ve been wanting to read in a while, something Melissa recommended to you some time ago. You do miss the closeness you two had before PECSA.

Well, most people say that what happens in PECSA stays in PECSA, but in your case, it probably isn’t.

“I see you’re finally reading it.” Her familiar voice dances in between the words printed in the book, which catches your attention. She greets you with a smile.

“Oh! Hello, Melissa.” You greet with half a smile, inserting the bookmark into the book and carefully closing it so as for it not to crease, before welcoming her to come inside.

“How’s it so far?” Melissa leans on one of the windowsills. She seemed really intrigued as to what your thoughts were, but that wasn’t exactly the reason why she came up here to you.

“It’s so far so good.” You fidget with the printed cover of it. “It’s a very intriguing book with well written characters.”

Melissa grabs one of the chairs and places it beside you, ready to listen to your thoughts on the book, but instead, she was met by the silence of obvious thoughts that lingered through your mind.

“Are you alright, hon?” She worries.

You feel as though this is the perfect opportunity to talk about it after acting as though you were cool about it, about everything that happened. That nothing worried and haunted you.

“We should talk about, you know.” You say it as straightforward. “While we have time for lunch.”

“What about it?” She asks, her voice as gentle as the way she held you that night.

Your fingers begin to fiddle with each other out of habit. “Were there some feelings involved?” You went in straight to the flame. “Did you kiss me because I wanted to kiss you, or did you kiss me because you wanted to kiss me?”

“What do you think happened that night?” A question with curiosity that overflowed.

“Well, we got drunk, went to my room, started making out, then the next morning, you left.” Instead of receiving a proper response, you instead get a chuckle out of her. “What’s funny?”

In between soft chuckling, she says, “You’re missing a few details, sweetheart.”

“Is that so?” You ask anxiously before feeling her hand take yours, circling her thumb on your palm.

“You know, when we got on your bed you suddenly ran away.” She recalls. “You ran away to the bathroom and all I heard was vomit and gagging.”

You felt shivers behind your back, feeling embarrassed over something so blurry in your mind and barely there.

“After that, you just kept on crying.” Her gaze softens as she catches your eyes. “You were scared that me hearing you vomiting over the toilet made you lose your chances with me and so you didn’t want to kiss me again.” She purses and licks her lips. “You said stuff about how you feel as though I deserve someone better.”

“I would have helped you clean up, but you refused and just left me hanging there for a good half an hour.” Melissa placed her glasses on top of her head. “We ended up just hugging each other the whole night. I was gonna say something but you fell asleep.”

“You can say it to me now.” You smile a little.

With hesitance, Melissa starts talking. “Look, I wanted to tell you the next day, but you know, I’m not the best at opening up.” Your hand creeps up onto the side of her neck as she takes this and places it on her cheek. “I have feelings for you too. I like you, and there isn’t a day where your chances of having me lessen.”

A smile of relief grows on your face, laughing out of embarrassment with Melissa soon following your laughter. “God, we are so naive.” You say, rolling your eyes playfully out of the ridiculousness of the situation.

You pull your chair closer to hers, getting a little closer to her. Your eyes trail to her lips and she notices this, letting go of your hand and holding your face to meet her lips with yours. The kiss felt more passionate, with the taste of morning coffee surprisingly still within her lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this on school grounds.” You whisper in between kisses that Melissa continued to give you.

And so midway she stops. “Are you telling me that I should bring you home?” She looks at you with intent and need.

“Friday.”

#wlw #sapphic #melissa schemmenti imagine #melissa schemmenti x reader

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