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netherfeildren · 10 months

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Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .5

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Possessive behavior; Jealousy; Size difference; Size kink; One sad horny old man; Angst!!!! that will continue just FYI no abusing poor little vic for enjoying the suffering of others :) it’s not my fault :)

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: peep the cameo!!!!!! :)

Word Count: 6.1K

Read on AO3

Vanish. Pass into nothingness: the Keats line that frightened her. Fade as the blue nights fade, go as the brightness goes. Go back into the blue. I myself placed her ashes in the wall. I myself saw the cathedral doors locked at six. I know what it is I am now experiencing. I know what the frailty is, I know what the fear is. The fear is not for what is lost. What is lost is already in the wall. What is lost is already behind the locked doors. The fear is for what is still to be lost. You may see nothing still to be lost. Yet there is no day in her life on which I do not see her.

Joan Didion, Blue Nights

Weeks pass after that night in his truck. He calls, many times, but you never answer. And it makes you feel like the worst sort of liar, but you can’t. You can’t hear the sound of his voice, it’ll ruin you, destroy your resolve, force you to your knees at his feet, which is, if you’re being honest, the only place you really want to be. It is, perhaps, the greatest struggle of your entire life, to hold on by the skin of your teeth to this idea you have of what it is he and his marriage should remain as, and what you and he should be and should not be.

It’s Gerri’s birthday, and Tommy and her sister had decided to throw her a party at her house. Big surgeon money makes for a big fancy house, and Gerri was over the moon, filled with happiness and laughter and that wonderful brand of Gerri specific infectious glee that forces even your miserable, morose self to pull your butt out of bed and get ready to go celebrate her. She knows you’re sad, missing him, even if she doesn’t know it’s him specifically. Although, you suspect she might have an idea of it.

She’d begged you to come during class at the start of the week, planting her stubborn butt on a stool to stare you down while the rest of your students finished up their work and then put away their materials. Please’s and threats of tears and bodily harm and promises of copious amounts of alcohol, and if you’re feeling up to it, I could even hook you up with someone – an accompanying waggle of her eyebrows. What about a surgeon? My sister knows the perfect, sexy doctor for you. You’d profusely, profusely refused that. You could not even consider another man right now, the idea was almost repulsive to you. As she begged and pleaded and whined, another one of your students had come up, eavesdropping on the pathetic display of supplication, “Come on, teach. Don’t be a sour puss, put her outta her misery, and go to the fucking party with her,” she’d laughed. One of your best students – she had the most gorgeous tattoo on the inside of her forearm of two overlapping ferns with an intricately detailed moth at the head. She’d told you once she’d sketched it herself. You’d rolled your eyes at them, sour puss, my ass. But you knew you had to get out of this hole you’d dug yourself into, and so, their teasing had gotten to you in the end – forced you to agree to the party out of sheer preservation for your reputation. Gerri’d taken to calling you the boring barnacle… yeah, and she’d never stop if you didn’t agree – would probably force all your other students into making fun of you for the rest of the semester, as well. Annoying little shit, it was very aggravating that you loved her so much.

The house is stunning – big surgeon money indeed. All shining glass, sleek wood and modern edges. A huge infinity pool in the backyard, flanked by an impressively sized guest house that Gerri said she and Tommy stayed in sometimes when they got too drunk to drive home.

There was, after all, a doctor from Andrea’s work waiting for you at their undesired and annoyingly meddlesome behest. He was nice, handsome, boring. Not tall enough, not broad enough, hair blonde and straight and kind of straw-like – no dark, silver streaked curls and deep, warm eyes. He kind of reminds you of a shiny scarecrow, if you’re being honest and not very kind. Not Joel enough. But he was nice, and seemingly interested and he’d gotten you a drink and stayed by your side all night, attentive and polite.

You feel miserable and made out of plastic. Your smile, fake, forced, terrible. Something has to be done about this. Perhaps, electrotherapy, a lobotomy, an exorcism. Anything to get him out of your head.

The shiny, blonde scarecrow – doctor – is telling you about his shiny, blonde family and their fancy skiing trips now, and oh, do you ski? No? I bet you’d love it – maybe I can take you one day? Never mind that you’d been born without a single athletic bone in your entire body, when, suddenly, you hear your name being barked, rough and angry, from behind you, and then a large, searing hot palm circling your bicep on one side while his other palm slides along the span of the small of your back to grip you at the bend of your waist. Fuck.

“Joel–”

“Hi, sweetheart.” He does not look at you as he says it, but his grip on your waist tightens for one second. He’s staring down the shiny scarecrow, murder in his eyes. Oh, that look is very scary.

“What are you doing here?” He turns the scary look on you at that, and nope, nope, it’s even scarier pointed in your direction.

“Tommy told me you were here.”

“Wh– what? Why would he tell you?” He gives you a pointed look, and you glance at the scarecrow, nervous. “You told Tommy?” you whisper back at Joel.

Poor doctor man looks at a loss, gaze swinging back and forth between the two of you. “I’m so sorry, can you give us a minute?” you say, embarrassed. He takes one look at Joel’s terrifying face and scampers away.

Moron, he thinks, sour gaze following the fucker as he tucks tail and runs. He turns back to you, answering your question, “Didn’t have to, baby. He figured it out on his own. Don’t think we’ve been what one could call discreet if you’re really paying attention.”

You shut your eyes tight, bring up a shaky hand up to rub at the delicate wing of your brow. He desperately wants to smooth out the tiny frown marring the space between your eyes.

“N– no– but,” you stutter.

He takes the drink you’re holding out of your hand, takes a sip of it – something sweet and way too strong for your light-weight little butt. “Mm, he get that for you?”

You scrunch your nose up at him, and he knows he’s meant to take it as a sign of your annoyance, but all he can think is that you’re too adorable for your own good. “Wh– I– you overbearing, ridiculous – give that back!” you frown up at him as he holds it out of your reach. He sets the glass on a table behind you.

“Hmm–” His big hands span the width of your waist, can’t help himself, you’re so small compared to him. It makes his cock so hard. “Let me talk to you, please. Let’s go somewhere quiet.” He doesn’t care that he’s not supposed to be here, that he shouldn’t be bothering you, he’s reached the end of his rope.

“No – go away. It’s– it’s Gerri’s birthday.” You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he pulls you further into his chest. “I’m supposed to be having fun. She said she’d be mad if I didn’t have fun.” There are already overwhelmed tears in your eyes, and if he wasn’t so fucking desperate to see you, to talk to you after all these weeks of you ignoring him, he’d run away. Far, far away, where he can never make you cry again.

“Just for a little bit, please,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, causing the little wisps of hair there to flutter.

You shiver. “Where– where’s Sarah?” You bring your small hand up to clutch at his beard, cup his jaw, and scratch your nails gently down the side of his cheek, and fuck, he’s ready to burst, just with that, even as your other hand feebly tries to push at his chest. He slides a hand low on your back to press your pelvis into his.

“Baby-sitter.” Hearing you ask after his daughter has that soft spot behind his ribs where you live now, burn and pinch painfully.

“And–”

He cuts you off, doesn’t want to hear you talking about her. “Gone for the weekend – work conference.” Not that he believed that.

You open your eyes again, the tears lining your lashes make them almost glow in your skull. He can’t help himself, he bends to press a soft kiss over your eye, feels the whispering, wet flutter of your long lashes against his mouth. You let out a broken mewl for him – full of all your matched wanting. “F– fine. We’ll– we’ll just talk.”

Just talk, just talk, just talk.

He can feel the pulse of his blood beat through the line of his erection against his thigh. He wraps his hand around yours and starts leading you through the house, spots Tommy at the back of the kitchen, leaning against the counter talking to someone. His brother takes in the two of you together, gives him a subtle nod, inclines his head towards the backyard – the guest house where Joel was headed. Tommy had known, since that day so long ago when Joel had tried to discreetly tag along to the college – hoping to get a glimpse of you, he’d known there was something. Nothing discreet about your half assed excuses, reeked’a desperation, he’d said. His brother wanted him to be happy, to have a good, fulfilling relationship. He’d been telling Joel to get a lawyer for months, had been the first to tell him to not get married. He’d help him now, give the two of you time to sort this out. He knows just how insane Joel had been these past few weeks, like a caged animal, pacing and hissing at not being able to get at you.

He steps out the back door and pulls you towards the guest house. He’d been here once, months ago, helping Gerri’s sister out with a repair she’d needed. The two of you would have privacy there to talk, for you to finally stop avoiding him. He needs to speak to you, touch you, smell you. He was going out of his goddamn mind thinking about you, dreaming about you. His cock, constantly at half mast and leaking, at all hours of the day, just at your memory. Desperate, that’s what he is, he’s desperate for you.

“Who was that guy?”

“Who?” Your voice is anxious, breath hitching. He knows you’re twisting yourself up in knots, and he turns to pull you into his arms now, in the privacy of the dark room, lit only by the light of the moon spilling through the large bay windows.

“The one you were talking to.” He draws his palm slowly up and down the line of your spine, feelings the little bumps and jitters of your trembling form. Skittish little rabbit. He rubs his mouth over the line of your hair, baby soft wisps tickling his nose and mouth. You smell so good, he wants to rub himself all over you like some sort of animal – mark his territory.

“Wh– I– You cannot be serious right now.” You push at him, turn to move away, but he catches you around the bend of your elbow, tugging you back forcefully into his chest. He presses his front along the line of your back, grips your hip to bring your ass into the hard line of his cock.

“Does this feel serious to you?” He’s hard as stone, throbbing beneath his jeans.

“Oh God, Joel–”

“Don’t want you talkin’ to other men, thinking about any other men. I know it sounds insane – can’t help it, I’m sorry.”

“I– I don’t think about anyone else but you,” you whimper.

He wraps his arms around your waist, brings one large hand up to cradle the weight of your breast and squeeze. He can feel the stiff little furl of your nipple through your dress. He feels a little unhinged right now, overwhelmed by the feel and scent of you. “I miss you,” he whispers. “Have you missed me?” He presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear that has a violent shiver jerking down your vertebrae, you grind your ass harder into him, give him the sweetest little moan. “All I do is think about you.”

“I did, I did– I miss you so much. I wanted to talk to you, I did,” you whimper, “But– but we shouldn’t, Joel,” you say at the same time as your hand comes up and around to twist into the curls at the back of his head. He turns your head with his hand wrapped around your jaw, his entire palm cups around your neck to your cheek, thumb pressing harshly into the corner of your mouth to angle you exactly how he wants you, and then he’s tasting behind your teeth, the wet lick of his tongue into yours sends a bolt of lust straight through him, almost bringing him to his knees. He moans, deep and rumbling into your panting mouth, and your answering keen has the dribble of his precum sliding down his thigh. He needs to be closer, he needs to be inside. Fuck, he’s in danger of coming just from this, just from the sweet taste of you, your little moans, all for him.

“Did you like that boy? Think he was nice, hmm?”

“Wha– No– no, Joel. I don’t even know him.” Brow scrunching into the most adorable little frown he’s ever seen. You blink your lashes at him, eyes glassy and slightly dazed.

He snakes his other hand down the front of your dress and under the lace of your panties, cupping the entirety of your mound in his palm. Fuck, you’re soaked and he’s touching you, finally, finally, he’s touching you here.

“Is all this wet for him or for me?” he says softly, dipping a single finger into your seam, a ghost of a touch over the bud of your clit. Fuck, you’re soft. Soft and swollen and soaking wet. He never wants to see you near another man again, it’s unreasonable, insane, he knows this. But the dilemma of having seen you, tasted you, felt you, but only by half measures, not really having you, well… it sets the stage for insanity. This he cannot help.

“For you, for you– please, Joel. Just–”

“She’s drooling for me, baby.”

“Don’t be mean,” you cry.

“Will you let me make you feel good, sweet girl? Please, I just want to make you feel good.” He presses wet kisses over your cheek, down your neck to lick into the hollow of your collarbone. Your hips hitch in little grinds trying to gain more purchase against his palm, and he circles your clit slowly. You’re fucking dripping, and he moves down to press over your entrance, gives you the slightest hint of everything else he’d like to give you.

“Oh, please–” He slides two of his fingers into the last knuckle then, to the hilt. You’re so wet, there’s no resistance at all. Your cunt swallows his fingers whole, and the both of you let out ragged moans in tandem. You’re fucking tight, and he needs to feel you around his cock, he has to. He’ll die if he doesn’t. He’ll die.

“We– we were supposed t– to talk,” you stutter, little cunt grinding down as hard as you can on his thrusting fingers. The wet squelch is deafening and obscene in the quiet of the guest house, and he can almost feel the steam of your lust and embarrassment at the sound rolling off of your skin like heat waves.

“Yeah, yeah, baby. We’ll talk in a second.” He licks a long wet swipe along the edge of your jaw, bites down harshly, and he can feel the tight clench of your cunt at the small hurt. He pulls his fingers from you, and you let out a protesting mewl, but then he’s spinning you in his arms and kissing you. Something savage and uncontrolled rising up inside of him. He half carries, half drags you down the hall to the bedroom he knows is at the back of the house, pulls the neckline of your dress down to get at your tits, sucking and nipping as much of the soft flesh he can get at. All the previous moments of restraint, of not touching, of just watching, have turned him into this uncontrolled beast. He can feel your little feel dangling off the ground, over his boots. He almost stumbles as you lose one of your sandals, stepping over your shoe, and gripping the back of your thigh to hoist you up higher, grinding you against his length.

He sets you down on the bed, pushing you back to lay across it as he tugs the soft cups of your bra down to get at your bare tits, sucking one peaked nipple into his mouth and pulling hard on the tip. So fucking beautiful. He swirls his tongue around your softness, kisses the underside of it, nips at the full, round side, switches to give the other one the same attention. You’re whining and crying out for him, almost sobbing. So sensitive, so sensitive – little fingers twisted in his hair to pull him closer, but he’s moving down, pulling away from your searching mouth and lifting the hem of your dress. He bends to bury his face in the soft apex of your thighs and breathes deep – satisfaction, hunger, rumbling through his chest. You smell so fucking good. He sticks his tongue out to lick at your slit over the lace of your soft, pink panties, sweet, little bow adorning the front of them.

“Hush, lemme kiss your pussy for a little bit,” he soothes, “Don’t cry,” and you’re spreading your legs immediately at that. Good girl.

He hooks his fingers under the soaking wet center plaque of your panties to pull it aside and drags the flat of his tongue right through your seam. Fuck, fuck. He shuts your legs to rip the fabric down your legs and then rips them open again to get at your cunt. Your back arches, curved tight like a bow string, and you spread your legs wider for him, tug on his hair to urge him closer. He settles between the space you’ve made for him – thinks that he just might like to live here for the rest of his life. He sucks your clit into his mouth and starts to press a single finger inside, giving you something to bear down on.

“God, Joel–” your gasps are wet, on the verge of overwhelmed tears, or already there, perhaps, “Feels so– so good.”

“Taste so fucking good–” He starts to fuck you with his finger, adding another, giving you more to stretch around. You’re so wet, leaking down to pool in his palm, and he focuses on your sensitive little nub, licking and sucking and kissing it, all while he watches the heave and tremble of your breasts, back arched so that you can rock into his ministrations.

“Oh, I’m– I’m gonna come.” Yes, already, “I’m gonna–” He can feel the ripple and throb of your inner muscles working around his thrusting fingers, he hooks them against the deep, spongy spot at the front of your walls and sucks on your clit. Everything goes tight and liquid inside of you. The rapid flutter of your muscles trying to suck his fingers deeper, as you gush into his mouth, has all the blood rushing from his head to his dick so quickly he feels slightly faint. He licks you through it, gentling the thrust of his fingers but not stopping. Your restless legs shift around him, too much, and then he’s shifting back up to you, a bite to your nipple, a kiss pressed to the underside of your jaw, and he’s pulling you down the bed so your ass is right at the edge and tugging at his zipper, pulling his boxers down to free his aching cock and heavy balls. Fist clenched tight around himself, he jacks it once, twice and then presses the angry, red head to your clit, slides the underside of it through your cleft to feel the heat and wetness. Shit, your skin is scorching hot, soaked, and he can see the slight clench of your hole, begging to be filled.

“Joel, please I– I want–”

“Fuck – will you let me– will you let me put it in? Just a little bit?” He’s thrusting against the slick red of you, palm pressed against the shaft to create friction on either side. On every pull back his head catches the smallest bit at your entrance, and fuck, fuck, it would be so easy, so good, “Just– just for a second, baby, please? Just the tip?”

“I – I don’t– I–” The head catches more fully, the wide tip of it giving you just the first slight stretch of it. “Oh, please–” Please, please, please.

He feeds you the first inch – eyes glued to the way your little hole stretches obscenely around his fat girth, “Shit,” he snarls. He fucks you just like that, with just the tip and you try and arch even more, impossible, you’re already pulled tight as an arc, trying to take him deeper, and then your knee is hitching against his hip and pressing him in closer. He slides all the way inside, to the very end of you, in one smooth, devastating go. He feels his tip bump against the mouth of your womb, and your shared moan is pained and ragged. Your fluttering lids springing all the way open, eyes wide, almost shocked. The look shared between the two of you – incredulous, as if neither of you knew – had ever occurred to you – that something in this world could ever feel this good.

He buries his face in your neck, shuts his eyes tight. Fuck, he’s gonna come, he’s gonna come. Your gasping moans, the lush press of your breasts to his chest, the fluttering of your cunt around him – nothing in all his life has ever felt like this. There’s a pain, deep in his chest, in a place he didn’t even know existed. This is like nothing else that has ever existed in this world. He’ll never be able to let you go after this, never, never.

He wraps his hand around your throat, tries to settle you. “Don’t– don’t move, don’t make a sound–”

“I can’t– I can’t– You’re so deep.” Your legs kick restlessly around him.

“Baby, shut up, please,” he begs, he cannot come yet, he cannot. This is the first time in over three years he’s been inside of a woman, the first time he’s been inside of you. He cannot ruin it with a happy trigger finger. You’re clawing at his back, gasping and crying for him to move, to fuck you, please, please, please, fuck me. He slides a hand under your butt and lifts you slightly off the bed to bring you closer to him, grinds his cock deep, deep, right at your cervix so that you’re crying for real now.

“Too much, too much,” you clutch tightly at his bicep, going back and forth between trying to push him away and pull him closer. He can feel the wet press of your tears sliding along his cheek, over his mouth, and he licks his lips to taste them, has his eyes rolling to the back of his head at their saltiness. He hitches you more firmly in his grasp and starts to fuck you. His thrusts, deep and devastating, punching all air, voice, thought out of you, heavy balls slapping wetly against your ass.

“You can take it, you can take it. You can take anything I give you. You’re my pretty, perfect girl,” he grits, pulls himself up so he can stare at the place where you’re taking him, puffy, red cunt stretched obscenely around his slick base.

“You feel so good– I can’t, I can’t– What are we going to do? What are we going to do? It feels so good.” You’re crying, incoherent, fucked out look in your eyes as you claw at his shirt, little nails scraping over his belly and chest. He grips you under one knee to pull your leg up, hooking your ankle over his shoulder to deepen the angle. You come again, instantly, just at the change, the deepening of the angle, the head of his cock battering savagely against that deep, soft spot inside you.

“Fuck, yeah. Let me feel that cunt get wet, little girl.” Your mewls are high pitched, supplicant, and you gush around him. He feels it soak his pelvis, drip down his balls.

No one’s ever been this deep, nothing’s ever felt like this, you say, over and over again.

He plants one knee on the bed and hunches over you, ankle still dangling limply over his shoulder and pounds into you. The feel of your cunt rippling around him, sucking him deeper is too much. He wishes he could last longer, feel you come around him again. What if you never let him do this again? What if you never want him again after this? What if it’s just a one time thing? He’ll never get over this, he’ll never be able to move on from this. He can’t hold back, he starts to fill you, hot thick spurts coating your insides, and you moan again at the searing heat of him, right at the mouth of your womb, grinds deep, deeper, as deep as he can, the contractions of your inner muscles pulling him in. He wishes he could crawl beneath your skin, live inside of you, make a home for himself behind the safe cage of your ribs, and he thinks that you’re right, nothing has ever felt like this, nothing will ever feel like this again.

He’s ruined now. You’ve ruined him

He collapses on top of you, wants to crush you with his heavy weight, meld your chests together so that you’ll have to be with him forever after this. He presses wet, breathless kisses to the vulnerable underside of your jaw, behind your ear where your scent is the most concentrated, breathes you in deeply. You wrap your arms and legs around him, and he can feel the clench of your inner muscles around his softening cock. He hasn’t done this in a long time, he wonders what his refractory period is now, if he’ll be able to go again soon, if you’ll let him.

“I wanted that so badly,” you whisper, nuzzle your nose into his hair.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

“I’m scared.”

“You have nothing to be scared of. I would never hurt you,” he promises because it’s the truth. He’d never do anything to purposely hurt you.

“I’m scared of what I feel for you,” you say quietly, “I– I don’t–”

He slides his hand under you to press you closer. “I know, sweet girl. Me too.” He angles your head to give himself access to your mouth, starts his kiss out soft and gentle, slotting your full upper lip between both of his to pepper soft little pecks and sucks to it, then tilts his head to get a deeper angle and lick into you.

You’re completely relaxed beneath him. Soft and warm and wet, entirely pliant. So sweet. It’s one of the things he loves most about you, how sweet you are. Sweet and kind and earnest – tenderhearted. You’re right, in a way, this is something to be afraid of. The things he feels for you – the depth of it, it’s not something he was expecting, not prepared for, but he’s certain there isn’t a way of stopping it now. This is what it is, will go where it was always going to go, from the first moment he saw you, touched you, tasted you.

“What are we going to do?”

“I want to tell her.” It’s the only truth, the only road he wants to go down. He wants to be with you, he wants this out in the open. “You aren’t a secret to be kept or hidden. You deserve to be cherished out in the open.”

Your tears spill harder at that, “Joel–”

“Baby,” he lifts up slightly to look at you, “This is it.”

You turn to look away and he feels dread coil in his gut. If you pull away from him now he’ll lose his mind. He isn’t prepared for this, he isn’t the type of man who’s ever had to deal with this type of feeling. “I – I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I– I don’t want–”

“You don’t want what?” he brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face, runs the tip of his finger along the arch of your brow, down the slope of your nose. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” he says, because it’s the truth. In this moment, he thinks he’d do anything at all you’d ask of him. Open his very veins for you. You have him speared by the heart, eating out of the palm of your small hand.

“I don’t want to be the reason your marriage ends,” your brow crumples, “I told you. I– I can’t be. I couldn’t live with that.”

“My marriage never really began to start with. I told you that.” He moves to pull out, both of you groaning softly at the sensitive slide of his cock slipping out of you, the slick gush that follows. He sits back on his heels, grips both of your knees to keep you spread and enjoy the sight of the viscous drip of his spend out of your messy hole. He wants to bend to eat his own come out of you. You’ve turned him into some sort of beast, subjugated to the scent and sound and feel of your body. But instead he turns to sit at the edge of the bed, tucks himself back into his jeans. He leans forward, elbows resting against his spread knees, and drags his palm over his face, rubs the scruff of his beard. He feels you turn to curve around him, your hand snaking up the back of his shirt to press your palm against his hot skin, your knees curling into his lap around his waist. “It was never – it was never– I don’t even know. Never a real marriage, I suppose. Or never something either of us wanted for the right reasons. I – I felt like it was the right thing to do, at the time, for Sarah. I told you this. But– but it was never how it should’ve been. I worry now, sometimes, if we haven’t just done more damage to her, built a foundation that’s so rotten, so broken, that she’ll be able to feel it for the rest of her life.”

“Joel,” you whisper, dragging your fingers softly up and down his back.

“She was born into a broken home – how can I ever– how can I ever make that up to her?” He turns back to look at you then, “A home where her parents never loved each other – barely even tolerated each other. What is that gonna do to her? What will that teach her about love and relationships?” He grips you around the bend of your knee, anchors himself with the feel of your soft skin beneath his rough palm.

“I think that, from– from experience, that it will be enough for her to know that she has you, that you love her, that you’ll always be there for her. You’re a good father, Joel. A– a wonderful father. She’s so, so lucky to have you.” And the look in your eyes as you say this to him is so earnest, so sincere and kind that he knows, in that very instant, that he’s falling in love with you, that he is already in love with you. He folds over to press his face into your belly, hug you tight to himself. “Your love for her will teach her what love is supposed to be. Honest, forgiving, patient. She doesn’t need any other example than that. That’s enough for a little girl, trust me.” You drag your nails gently along his scalp.

He presses a kiss to your belly, another to your still bared breast. He rests his cheek on your chest to look up at you. “Thank you. Thank you for that.” What he really wants to say is, thank you for existing, thank you for finding me, thank you for being magic, thank you for letting me touch you. Please, let me keep even one small piece of you, I’ll take such good care of it for the rest of my life, I promise.

“But you– you can’t tell your wife about this, can’t– can’t leave her for me. That isn’t– that isn’t ever what I wanted, or– or set out to do. I told you why, I explained this to you.” He watches a bright flush flood your cheeks, brow folding into a frown as you stutter out the words. “I don’t want you to do that.”

“What’s left of this marriage is going to end either way. It’s only a matter of time.”

“But not for me. Not because of me, or for you to run straight to me. I can’t– I couldn’t live knowing I’d done that.”

“You haven’t done anything. This was done a long time ago, the foundation was damaged from the start.”

“N– no, still. I can’t.” You shift away from him, sit up to right your clothes. There is a part of you that hums the sounds of uncertainty, he can hear it in your voice, but it is so quiet in the face of everything else. The echo of your screeching guilt and fear so loud, it overwhelms everything else.

“So, then what? This was just a one time thing? You want nothing more from this? From me?” He spits, hurt. He knows he should be gentle, not get angry, but the thought of you taking yourself away from him now makes panic climb like fire up his chest and throat.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly, face still turned away from him. “I– I can’t tell you that right now. But I do know that I don’t want you to tell your wife, or to leave her for me.”

“So you think I should stay with her? Even though we’re both miserable. Even though all I want is to be with you. That’s what you want me to do?”

You let out a hoarse, anguished little sound at that, but then: “That’s not for me to say.” Your voice sounds broken, jagged, lacerating. “That isn’t my business,” you say so quietly, almost like you’re afraid to utter the words out loud, know what a lie they are. But he hears it. Loud and clear, like a slap to the face.

“Not your business?”

“I should get back.” You stand to right your dress, he watches your shaking knees knock together, and he reaches out to catch you if you need him, but you steady yourself on your own. When you finally turn back to look at him, there are tears streaming down your face. In some sick, twisted way, the sight of them is a comfort. They tell him that this isn’t what you really want, that your words hurt you too. In a way, they help him understand you better, as well. You’re trying to do what you think is the right thing, as wrong as it is for all of you involved. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, wringing your hands together. He only nods. You go to clean yourself up in the restroom, shutting the door quietly behind you.

When you step back out into the bedroom, he’s already gone, but there’s a glass of water left waiting for you on the bedside table.

Chapter .6

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#someone's fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic

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fandomnerd9602 · 28 days

Text

On a Whim

Fem!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Y/N POV:

A toaster. You were dumped for a toaster. That’s what you kept saying as you drank your coffee in the Moondance Diner. Your best friend Harley Keener was consoling you.

“I’m sorry you had to go thru that” Harley gave you a pat on the back, “but you’re a Stark! You can have any gal you want”

“I’d rather have a quality girl like-” you teared up a little just about to say her name. Harley hugs you tight.

“You gotta get back out there”

“I do?”

He reassures you, “yeah. In fact I dare you to ask out the next girl our age that you see.”

Was it some sort of fate, or divine conspiracy? Because it just happened that your best friend and fellow Avenger in training Petra Parker approached your table in her waitress outfit.

“Hey Harley, Stark, what can I order for you?” she gave you one of her thousand watt smile. The kind that always seemed to make a hard day training feel better. And then you blurted out something. Something you don’t know where it came from, it just spilled out.

“Will you marry me?”

Petra’s POV

She wasn’t supposed to be there for a shift at Moondance Diner. She was supposed to be out on a date with Laslo Allen. But he stood her up. Apparently he got too tired of her running late for dates, completely unaware that she was the Spectacular Spider Girl.

So with a broken heart, she accepted an extra shift at the diner. A bit of extra cash and something to distract her mind.

Luckily as she was in the middle of her shift, she saw you and Harley in one of the booths, sipping your coffees.

“I’ll take care of table five, Betty” Petra smiled at her coworker before heading to your table.

“Hey Harley. Stark, what can I get for you?” She flashed her smile at you.

“Will you marry me?” you asked her. Petra’s heart stopped and then fluttered. You were one of her best friends. Sure yeah you were the heir to the Stark family and a fellow teammate, but she always felt that she could talk with you, tell you whatever was bothering her. It felt real to be with you. There was already an intimacy there that she couldn’t have with anyone else. Petra couldn’t help but smile.

Y/N POV:

You were at a loss for words. Did you really just blurt out a proposal to your best friend?! The silence was deafening. Harley looked at you with a mix of shock and surprising support.

“I-I mean it doesn’t have to be like right now” you stuttered. You didn’t exactly inherit your father’s smooth talking ways. “It can be like a couple months or a year down the-”

“Yes” Petra whispered back. A small giggle escaped her lips, “yes! Yes!!”

She dropped her little notepad and pencil and jumped into your lap. How could something feel so right? Her arms were wrapped around your neck, her infectious laugh was so amazing. You held her tight.

And then she began kissing you. The sparks, the way her lips clicked perfectly against yours. You gently took a hold of her waist and held her tight in your lap, deepening the kiss.

Harley tore a napkin to pieces and threw it up like some sort of makeshift confetti. “Congrats!” he said, “I call dibs on being best man”

Petra’s POV:

She swung thru the city later that day, landing on the rooftop of her and May’s apartment. She was giddy and yet a little scared too. You and her were still seniors in high school and here she was having accepted a marriage proposal. Honestly it made her more giddy.

She crawled into the apartment thru the living room window and came face to face with Aunt May, Tony Stark, and you.

“I suppose congrats are in order” May said with her arms crossed.

“A marriage proposal? Really you two?” Tony asked.

“I’m not doing any better than her” you smiled at Petra, you walked over and took her hand. “she’s it, Dad. The most amazing girl in the whole world”

“But you’re in high school!” May countered.

“Aunt May, I didn’t say we were tying the knot today” Petra spoke up.

“But marriage that’s so reckless” Tony said but then he teared up. “Reckless? Without a care? I’m so proud of you, Y/N! You are my kid!”

Aunt May smacked Tony upside the head for that one. May approached her niece and Y/N. A small smile made its way across her aunt’s face.

“Promise you’ll finish high school?” May asked.

Petra couldn’t help but smile, “I’ll finish high school first.”

You take her hand gently, “And I’ll never leave your side”

Tony just gave a little approving smirk. He tossed a little ring over to the two of you. The one that he found you picking out after Petra went out on patrol. You slid the beautiful yet humble engagement ring on Petra’s waiting finger. She couldn’t help but cry tear of joy and kiss you again

You and Petra spent the rest of senior year studying for your exams, fighting crime and occasionally planning your nuptials. The girl who broke your heart faded in your mind, as much as Lazlo faded from Petra’s. The two of you spent time getting to know one another and grow together as best friends turned lovers. And of course, Tony was more than happy to flip the bill. Even bought you a property in Queens. A reflex he says, but he just wanted to make sure you and Petra were happy.

A funny way to tell your kids how you and Petra ended up marrying one another. But little Richard and May love hearing it. As for the Avenger side of things, the Spectacular Spider Girl and the Iron Knight still make quite an amazing team

Tags: @jacelion @deafeningsharkslimeempath @ma1egamer @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @konstantin609 @iamnicodemus @supercorpdanbeau @kingofthelizardpeople @multi-fandom-enjoyer

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keirawantstocry · 1 month

Note

I saw the dsmp request answer blog and I went through my aldkfjalkddjlkas phrase because holy gosh that is so awesome !!

May I have more snippets, glimpses of daily life…of what it is like to date Tubbo after they knew their boyfriend had been possessed…would they be awkward? would they be surprised or would they be trauma bonding??!? I don’t know and that is up to you jay

(wink)

(take care and drink warm water!)

hiii (i will drink some water right now for you king)

“We all have our differences.”

Tubbo scoffed. “I get possessed and don't remember it afterwards. That's not exactly a normal quirk.”

They both laughed.

“But it's you, so we'll take it,” Fit said.

And they did. They truly did take it in stride. It was strange to fall asleep in their boyfriend's arms and wake up to strange voices. Female, male, every inflection they could imagine. All coming out of the mouth they had kissed hundreds of times.

Pac loved learning more about Tubbo's history. More about these people who had known him before his time on the island. Tommy and Pac got along quite well in fact. Fit got along a bit better with Molly although he had to say that interacting with Tommy was always a guaranteed laugh.

He would spin hundreds of tales about adventures he and Tubbo had been on across multiple universes.

“You talk about him like he hung the stars in the sky,” Fit said one day with a laugh.

Tommy scowled through Tubbo's face. “What? No. I only barely tolerate him. He's the one who's like obsessed with me.”

Pac and Fit exchanged a doubtful look.

“Somehow I don't believe that.”

Tommy's scowl deepened. “Look. I'm an independent Big Man. I don't need Tubbo or anything.”

“You were the one who married him,” Fit pointed out.

“Oh! So a guy can't just trick his best friend into legally marrying him?”

“Não!” Pac said with an infectious laugh. “That's illegal.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I am not attached to Tubbo in an unhealthy manner at all.”

“You're possessing his body right now.”

“Shut up, Pac!”

Pac dissolved into giggles as Tommy started smacking him around.

“Shut up, shut up, you two are the ones who have crushes on him. All I did was marry him.”

“How in the world is having a crush on him- not that I'm saying we do- but how is that worse in your eyes then marrying him?” Fit asked, his jaw dropping.

Tommy shrugged. “Well, cause I'm the guy living in his head and you're just some dudes.”

“Just some dudes,” Pac said, laughing still.

“Yeah, okay, Tom,” Fit said with an affectionate roll. “Get out of him, we gotta get to sleep.”

Tommy smiled wildly. “Whatever you say, king.”

#not sorry for making everything ab c!clingy #qsmp #my writing #fanfiction #q!tubbo #q!fit #q!pac #q!tommy #poly morning crew #aoral

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bitchsister · 20 days

Note

EYY curt is canon to me so he's one insatiable slut so how about a very horny curt riding a sleeping bucky, ofc it's with consent since bucky is so used to it lol (or bucky just a lil bit sleepy and tired and just letting curt uses his cock however he please)

Okay so how did you know IM A SICK BITCH WHO’S SO INTO THAT. Like this is so real & so Curtie. Bucky is a tired “old man” and Curtis is an always so very horny twenty year old, ten fingers, ten toes, from the Bronx. 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Since this is an EYY drabble, Curtis calls Bucky by the nickname Binky.

Insatiable slut Curtis, activate 🥴

Instances of true privacy are few and far between, so Curt tends to take every moment alone with Bucky and use it to his utmost advantage — even if he’s dead asleep.

Still acclimating to the experience of being in-flight, Bucky found himself thoroughly drained by the relentless stress that accompanied it all. The weight of his concerns for Curt, Gale, and the entire one hundredth pressed upon him, but not when claimed by sleep.

He slept like a rock and radiated heat like a stove.

If his grip on Curt’s ribcage wasn’t enough to cause a little unrest, then the sweat was.

"C'mon," Curt whispered, though his complaint lacked any real conviction. He gently unraveled Bucky's fingers, one by one, allowing himself to slowly slip out of his grasp. Eventually, he settled himself atop Bucky's thighs, feeling the caress of the cool air from a cracked window in their resting apartment, its gentle touch teasing his dampened skin.

From there, he got the best view.

Bare chest, softened brow, cheekbones for days.

Full lips, gorgeous neck, the scar upon his cheek.

The birds began to chirp outside, dancing along the clotheslines but there was still no sign of the sun just yet — Curt glanced at the clock by their bedside, clicking his tongue.

Only half past four.

He sat for awhile, letting Bucky’s sleeping grip grab onto him again until the weight upon his own hipbones woke him. “Noo,” he whined, still too sleepy to wake up fully, or open his eyes. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

Curt could run off of fumes alone.

Most of the time, he did.

Sleeping was a damn waste of time if you asked him, especially for men whose next breath may be their last. “Mhm.” He hummed softly, his fingertips gently ghosting over the knuckles that still gripped onto him despite his exhaustion.

Bucky’s head lulled to the side, his heart relishing in this moment despite being plucked straight from a deep sleep — he’d been met with the most beautiful voice, the most comforting feeling.

“So, let’s see it, then.”

Curt hummed again in a gentle protest, shaking his head though Bucky couldn’t see it. He ground himself against the man lying beneath him — but barely.

It was enough for Bucky’s body to notice, but hardly his brain.

Curt leaned in, pressing his face against Bucky's neck, reveling in the familiar scent that resided there. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his lips, uncontrollable and infectious. "Burnt sugar," he whispered, his words a soft breath that danced amidst the curls cascading along the nape of Bucky's neck.

“Huh?”

“It’s what you smell like.”

Curt remembered the summers with his PopPop in the Catskills when he was younger, pouring sugar onto spoons with his sisters and using a lighter to heat it until it bubbled.

Sweet, sticky, just a little bitter.

Bucky's sleep-laden chuckle escaped, a soft and mellow sound that conveyed his contentment. He remained drowsy, unwilling to open his eyes. "Oh, yeah?" he responded, his voice carrying a tender warmth, much like his usual demeanor, but with an added touch of endearment.

“Yeah.”

Curt inhaled again, pressing his face deeper into the curve of his neck where he wished he could stay forever.

There, no wars existed and none of their friends had died.

“What do I smell like?” Curt asked in a whisper.

There fell another silence, blanketing them again in warm comfort until Bucky wrapped his arms around Curt and murmured, “Mine.”

Oh, bleeding hearts.

Curt sat up and looked down at Bucky who finally decided to barely open his eyes, a sleepy smile tugging his lips as he lazily palmed circles into Curt’s belly.

They’d fallen asleep naked, of course, so each rotation had caused his wrist to brush against Curt’s already hardening cock.

This was far from the first time Curt had roused himself from slumber before the break of dawn, determined to persuade Bucky that they both deserved a treat. He knew, however, that this time he would need to employ a touch more persuasion.

“Gimme some lovin’.” He wiggled his ass and pushed his body further into Bucky’s touch who groaned softly, his eyes closed again and the invisible circles he’d been drawing over Curt’s belly growing sloppy and light handed.

“Tired, baby.” His eyes had closed again.

This was the response Curt was expecting, but not the one he wanted.

He whimpered, reaching back to grab Bucky’s cock that had stiffened slightly but not enough to do anything with. With a quickness, he scrambled between his thighs and shoved them apart, admiring his half hard cock with a devious grin.

“Well, he ain’t.”

It was awhile before Bucky responded.

“He’s never tired.”

Curt allowed his mouth to kiss and lick and suck wherever it wanted. His tongue licked fat, wet stripes over his cock and down to his tight balls, over his thighs and back again. “That’s good, ain’t it?” His lips popped off of Bucky audibly, his chin dribbling with sticky spit.

Bucky’s body had flushed, his cheeks turning red as a little chuckle bubbled out of him. “You like takin’ advantage of an old man?” He teased, reaching a hand down to blindly rake his fingers through Curt’s messy mop of brown waves.

“Well, it ain’t takin’ advantage if that old man begs me to fuck myself harder on it.” Curt continued to mouth at Bucky’s cock, muttering filth against it. “Growin’ boys have needs, Binky.”

“You ain’t growin’ more than this.” Bucky quickly retorted, though he still sounded like he was fighting sleep as Curt stroked him, licked him, sucked him off with the most obscene sounds swirling around them. “Try as you might. Ain’t happenin’.”

“Hey,” Curt whined, nipping at Bucky’s inner thigh, “What if I have a real late growth spurt? And I got taller than you, huh? What then?”

Bucky would roll his eyes if they were open, but the tone of his voice had been more than enough. “You gonna sit on it?” He tugged at his hair, causing his neck to curve. “And quit runnin’ your mouth?”

Curt huffed, the sound of sheets rustling and the bed creaking whirled around their heads until he was straddled again over Bucky’s cock, spit slicked between his cheeks with his own fingers before he stuffed himself full of Bucky, and the smell of burnt sugar.

They both hummed, satisfied and in their most comfortable positions — closest to one another, becoming one.

Curt cooed, sharp breaths sucked through his teeth once he began making slow, calculated movements.

It wasn’t long before he was a whining mess, though.

His entire body flushed a pretty pink, his chest heaving, his tiny hands grasping onto any part of Bucky and himself that they could reach. “You feel taken advantage of?” Curt huffed, sucking his own fingers, his left hand stroking himself.

Bucky grinned, hands splayed over Curt’s warm thighs. “Oh, absolutely.” He whispered, eyes cracking open again to gaze at his little darling, all sweaty and whimpering, wild hair and wet lips. “God, you’re fuckin’ filthy.” He moaned, knowing well enough that his cock was more Curt’s than it was his own.

“Y’gonna gimme what I want?” He was practically begging. Bucky knew Curt couldn’t finish if he wasn’t full of it — they’d tried before to get a couple quickies in here and there, but it failed miserably.

The only way to guarantee an orgasm from Curt was to first orgasm yourself. Inside of him.

It was endearing, of course, but meant they couldn’t rub one out together if need be.

Curt required far more attention than that.

And he deserved it.

Bucky grabbed hold of Curt’s soft little hips before he rose his own to hammer into him, forcing out little whines and squeaks with each thrust until he found himself becoming a mess, groaning fuckfuckfucks.

The second Curt had noticed the warmth growing in his belly like a blazing ball of fire, he spilled his own hot sticky mess over Bucky’s chest.

They caught their breath and Curt continued the small little circular rotation of his hips, bending to lick up his own come, dribbling it into Bucky’s mouth, nipping his neck, biting his chin, sucking his nipples, moaning and whining as Bucky’s softening cock had left him feeling less full than he was only a moment ago.

“One more.” Curt panted, licking at Bucky’s chest again. “Please.”

#💌#yoyo writes #curtbucky #masters of the air

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bitchlessdino · 2 years

Text

and they were roommates pt.2

A svt.hub collab

Pairing: camboy!chan x afab roommate!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2.2k

tags: pet name (kitten), oral, 34 +35, dirty talk, mentions of sex tape

Summary: Wanting sex is a natural feeling, it just so happens that gratification could be found in the next room with a shitty webcam and an infectious laugh.

author note: thank you @chogiwapadada for helping me proofread this thing and thank you guys for the endless support. the fact that this was on the top page for the seventeen tag is insane and y'all made such a big deal of this and therefore i thank you guys so much. but josh if you see this, no you don't go away, please. i am always constantly overwhelmed by the support and hopefully you guys enjoy this one too!

tag list: @sapphichui @librarian-stacks @dontflailmenow @gyuldaengie @minniemole @greysdarling @romromthedeer @yoondae @dinosbestie

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

You may be wondering, what happened that night when Chan fapped to the thought of you in front of a live audience, not forgetting to invite you when he’s made a mess of himself. Did you really take up his offer, stormed out of your room, and had the most mind-blowing sex with your roommate you ever had?

Of course, you fucking didn’t, are you kidding?

What you actually did was finish off independently in your own rooms and did not speak another word to each other for the rest of the night.

You were awkward roommates at the end of the day and who knows what kind of shit would happen if you decided to pursue these escapades any further. No matter how hot and incredible Chan/Dino looked naked, there was no way you’d potentially ruin your convenient living agreements with your roommate who obviously makes enough money for the both of you (a lot of thanks to you I guess). So, what was the tactical decision after learning your roommate is a popular and successful sex worker?

Act as if nothing happened. What live show? What’s Dino? What even is Svthub? You don’t masturbate, that’s icky.

Yeah, you’re having a hard time believing that too. But what else were you supposed to do?

You could hardly look Chan in the eye the next day. Fortunately, he paid you almost no mind being that it was his weekend too. However, last night’s show was not as easily forgettable for you as it was for him. You could still picture the momentum and force that took hold of his body that managed to power his personal gratification, killing every functional cell of your entire being. His smile was already so pretty on a normal basis but how it twists desperately when he gets closer and closer, and his whines get louder and bolder, you could just cum then and there.

It fucking drove you insane he was just sitting there on the couch, laughing at cartoons as if nothing happened. It, in fact, confused you, even more, making you consider whether last night was even a dream because of how contradicting Chan and Dino really were, but it’s him. That laugh is his, that smile is his, that body is his, and that semi-hard cock poking at his gray sweatpants was definitely his. How were you so stupid that you didn’t notice sooner?

You press your lips in a firm line when you notice him turn his head at you, urging you to swallow the built up drool in your mouth.

“You wanna go grocery shopping today,” he asks, “I think I remember there was a sale for something I’ve been needing for a while.”

Like he needs to participate in any sales from the income he grew overnight.

“We went shopping last week,” you pointed out.

He nods agreeingly, “yeah, but I think we can afford it. I kinda got a huge bonus.”

Yeah, because Chan’s horny roommate couldn’t control themselves.

“Sure. Just let me get my bag.”

He claps his hands in rejoice and waits for you on the couch. When you’re both ready, Chan grabs the house keys and you’re the first one to head to the front door. Turning the knob, you swing the door open and at your feet was a package labeled to your roommate. You curiously pick it up from the ground, “Hey, Chan—”

“Uh, that’s mine,” he snatches it, nervously chuckling, sticking it in a vacant spot on your shared bookshelf.

You narrow your eyes at him as he pushes you out of the apartment and locks the door behind you both. “What was that?”

He shakes his head dismissively, flicking his hand in feigning lack of care. “Just treated myself. Got here earlier than I expected.”

Next day shipping, hmm?

You don’t question it and let Chan lead the way to the local market to grab whatever was missing from your pantry. You push the cart as Chan fills its insides gleefully, walking around like a kid in a toy store. The scene before made you almost forget the persona that clouded your mind, especially as he grows indecisive picking between chips options. You felt a little normal about your situation again.

It was then you found smth you had been looking for. A sugar free coffee syrup collection that you’ve been dying to try and has been sold out for months; it was finally available. The problem was the shelf it was on. Higher than you admit you could reach. You stretch your toes out towards the box, desperately holding on to the whimsical domestic fantasy of flavored coffee, not even getting close to touching the box.

You then feel a presence behind you, his chest grazing your back just enough to feel the noticeable progress he’s made at the gym, and a blackberry scent that hits your nose so delightfully. You didn’t fight the urge to turn around, and you faced Chan as easily hid your body from plain sight, grabbing what you meant to retrieve.

Blinking back cautiously towards him, you see the glimpse of his alluring presence from last nice, but instead you see the full picture. He looks back at you with a taunt, his eyes weighing down to give you a playful condescending grin. In your head, you imagined him teasing you like he would his audience, calling you his little toy or kitten, but instead he says, “Here you go, little one.”

You scoff, snatching the box away from him. “I could have easily gotten it myself.”

He doesn’t move from his stance and instead rests a hand on a shelf mere centimeters from your head. He narrows bedroom eyes down at you and a smile on his face that makes thousands of people climax simultaneously. Your breath hitches as he shifts his stance, where you tighten your grip on the collection box in reassurance.

“I’m sure you think that.” He responds slyly.

You huff in disbelief, pushing past him and towards the cart, grumbling to yourself something about an annoying loser. Chan, within earshot, chuckles to himself, following behind you. Hands besides either of yours on the cart handle, he walks behind you with your back to his chest, essentially embracing you.

You feel the pitter patter of your heart as he whispers in your ear, “anything else I grab from high shelves for ya?”

You roll your eyes and elbow him instinctively, the man holds his gut, absorbing the blow of his consequences. “Please, you’re 5’7. How much help can you actually be?”

“5’8 actually! And I'm a great help!”

When you get back to your apartment, you share the abundance of grocery bags with Chan. You unlock the front door and close it behind both you and Chan. Your gaze lingers at the package left on the book shelf as you pack away the food.

“Not to pry, but what is that package anyway?”

He waves his hands dismissively, “not much, just something I’ve been wanting.”

A fleshlight? A cock ring? Or maybe, a silicone torso?

“Really, you sure seem indifferent for something you’ve been wanting,” you pointed out.

“And you’re really nosy for someone that didn’t want to pry.” He shuts the cabinet, annoyance emitting from his tone.

You feel awful about pestering him but the curiosity was killing you. You continue to light heartedly bring it up every little chance you get. To which, your roommate tries to change the subject or ignore you completely in hopes you forget. Unfortunately for him, you had no off switch.

“Ok, fine, y/n. You really want to know?”

You slightly falter. “…Sure.”

Chan takes out the keys out of his pockets and uses it to shred the box. He flips the box, one cardboard flap at a time, and reveals the excessive packing. He pulls it apart teasingly slow, offering you a slight glare, and your eyes finally land on what was inside. You peer at it confused, pursing your lips before announcing out loud, almost to come to terms with what’s inside.

“A dinosaur onesie?”

“Yeah. Are you happy? You excited yourself for one comfy piece of sleepwear,” he shrugs, underlyingly relieved.

You shake your head, “you spent your bonus on a onesie?”

“What I do in my down time is my business.”

He storms off with his new favorite form of comfort and closes his bedroom door behind him. Your body boiled over with shame, thinking to yourself how selfish and invasive you were being. What, you think because your roommate masturbates to the thought of you once during a web show means you could get in his face?

You facepalm yourself and reluctantly approach his door, a limp knock resonating off the cheap wood. “Chan, I'm sorry. I don’t know why I’m being like this, but that’s no excuse.”

Silence lingers.

“Look it’s not lame to have a onesie okay, I just thought there might be something else in that box? I don’t know, but don’t be mad at me…”

You’re basically talking to a brick wall, or in your case, a wooden door.

“I won’t bother you anymore, okay. I understand there’s some lines that were drawn and I breached one of them…Whenever you want to talk again, let me know. It’s my turn to make dinner anyway. I have to have your input if you’ll complain again.”

You unlatch yourself from the door frame and timidly walk off to your room. Hai door creaks open behind you and your head to see Chan’s head peek out. A guilty expression all over his face and a dry tongue, hesitant to bare out his thoughts. “I did something…bad. Weird even.”

Hesitation is apparent in your response, wondering if he was finally going to admit that secret of his. “okay.”

“I’m not trying to be closed off—”

“You’re not,” you interrupt, “I’m just being annoying.”

“No. No…Well—okay, a little, but maybe I feel that was because of what I did.”

“What did you do, Chan?”

“Don’t make me say it,” he whines.

“It’s okay, you can say it out loud,” you reassure him, “I will not judge.”

“I…may have a little bit too much of your body wash.”

“…huh?”

He steps out from the door. “I know how that kind of stuff does without saying, but it just smells so nice. But luckily I did grab some when we’re out, and you didn't notice, so I couldn’t handle the guilt any longer. So projected on you, got angry with you. I’m sorry.”

You blink back at him, unsure of how to respond. This certainly wasn’t something you expected to come out of your mouth and you wonder why he thought it’d be something to ponder over with your feelings in mind. “How cheap do you think I am?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not that I think that I just…thought you should know the truth.”

“It’s fine, Chan. God, I thought you were going to talk about something serious. Is that all?” You egg on.

“…yeah.” He goes behind the door and isolates himself in his room.

You couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit bothered that it was all he had to say to you. Was he really that unaffected by what happened?

You let out a huff of frustration. You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to masturbate to some random hot guy on the internet. That bad guy had to be Chan. And Chan had to masturbate to you, with you, in front of thousands of other horny people to see. However, did he seem to care? Seems unlikely.

Your fist slams his door repeatedly, desiring the closure that should stop eating you up from inside, demanding him to “admit it” and while internally feeling embarrassed that you dropped the ball so quickly. You were a horny mess.

“You have more to explain to me Lee Chan!”

That goes on for a good minute until the door swings open and the man inside pulls you by the wrist disrupting his peace. You press against him, chest to chest, his eyes narrowing at you in frustration, while you look at him like a child about to receive punishment.

“Instead of waiting for me to say something, why don’t you just ask?” He suggests with a sinister tone under his breath.

Adrenaline courses through your veins, your legs grow weak from his tense presence, and you no longer have the urge to speak. Chan’s hand places on the side of your hip, pulls you up from slipping to the floor, and his expression softens. “Are you that bothered by my job?”

Your eyes fluttered rapidly in anticipation “Y-you knew?”

“It took some thinking,” he chuckles and stops to stabilize you back on the ground, keeping his distance, “are you grossed out by me?”

You became still as a lamp post, jumping between the thought of denying everything or putting it all out in the open. He was into you, you were definitely into him, there shouldn’t be a problem.

“I found you by accident. I didn’t mean to invade a private space of yours…When I found out, it was too late at that point.”

“I see. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable,” he scratches the back of his head with an uncomfortable grin, “I figured I’d be caught sooner or later. Just didn’t think I’d be so soon.”

“Look, you have a job you enjoy. I’m not going to take that away from you, Chan. It honestly doesn’t bother me. It probably pays more than that receptionist gig.”

“Right…So, how much have you seen?”

You sigh, approaching the cushion of his bed and making yourself home on the sheets. “More than I like to admit, especially to the star. Ha ha.”

Chan snickers, finally relaxing to see how aloof you become, and takes the spot next to you in bed. “I have time.”

You explain to him that in the past few days you’ve been in a sexual rut: not wanting do go out and meet other people, not wanting to go on apps, not wanting to make an effort, but still desperately craved sexual attention. That’s when you found Dino. Dino was alluring to you in a way that made you feel comfortable, yet wanted. Dino had a cheesy way with words, but nonetheless, he had a way with them. He feels inclusive and intimate, making you feel immersed in every recording posted on his site. He was talented in ways you could imagine with the last sexual partners you have and gave you the ultimate goal in the end every single time.

“I’m so flattered…and kinda exposed.”

You laugh quietly to yourself and pat him on the back. “You’re really good at it. I was impressed to say the least.”

“I’m assuming you caught last night's show too?”

Your cheeks began to pink. “Uh, yeah, that show.”

“I just want to say I don’t normally do that. It was a one time thing and I just…I got caught up. I’m sorry.”

“D-don’t be, I was really surprised, but pleasantly,” you let out a nervous chuckle, “but I really didn’t think I had that effect on you.”

“Maybe just a little,” he admits with a shy smile, “And I even invited you. It’s stupid. If I knew you were watching—”

“I didn’t come over because it was a live show, not because I didn’t want to…do that with you.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Chan fiddles with his fingers before resting it close to yours, your pinkies making skin contact. “So, you wanted to?”

You shrug, having a hard time meeting his eyes as you glowed like a fresh tomato. “I don’t know, maybe, kind of…I didn’t want to start something that could ruin what we have, you know?”

“Right,” he nods, “I get that. The last thing us roommates need is a complicated situation.”

“Exactly. It felt only right to not do anything.”

Chan piques in wonder, readjusting himself in the mattress to lean forward in your direction. “Is it though?”

You scoff, glancing at him briefly. “Of course it is…isn’t it?”

His gaze drifts off towards your lips, flickering back to your eyes. A smile that resembles a Cheshire cat forms on his face, effectively luring you without any words. If he did ever decide to show his face, his income would multiply by ten folds. There was no way someone would be able to ignore a face like that. His lips begin to part, and you follow the shapes they make until your brain processes them into words.

“Do you really think that way?”

You let out light gasp, also surprised by how similarly his tone shifts into Dino and once again you’re hypnotized by his mere presence, making you think he could make you do almost anything.

“Don’t you?”

He shakes his head confidently, a soft giggle escapes his lips. “You’re so cute.”

You clear your throat. “Am I?”

“Yeah,” his body turns completely to sit up parallel to you, “You don’t know how much I’m trying to control myself right now.”

“Then don’t,” you respond curtly, “I can handle myself.”

He nods. “I’ll take your word for it.”

His lips fit around yours in an instant. He moves with assertion. You were completely under his spell, unwaveringly in his possession. His hand moves to cup your face, his tongue finding easy entry after biting down on your bottom lips. The top of his nose tickles yours and you find yourself grasping his sides. Your legs pull up from the floor and anchor on his sheets. Chan’s free arm moves to take hold of your waist, forcing you chest to chest.

He parts from your lips reluctantly. He stares back at your half open eyes as if waiting for you to tell him to stop. When you’re the one to lean in and match his rhythm from moments before, he’s the one to give in to you. He melts into you until you’re one. You collapse underneath him and he strokes your hair so sweetly. How he kisses is between a starved man and a long time lover; comforting but exciting all at once.

His hand trails beneath your shirt, shivers running up your spine. You feel his smile against your lips as he hums to himself gleefully. “You’re so pretty underneath me, Kitten.”

“You figured that out too?” You laughed nervously.

“I had a feeling. Is that what you like being called? Kitten?”

You caught your lower lip between your teeth. “Not really, but I don’t mind it when you say it.

“Really,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, nuzzling his nose against yours, “that makes me happy to hear.”

His lips fall against your cheeks in peppery kisses then down your jaw, biting and sucking against the untouched skin until it glowed red and purple. His hand at the same time lands on your thigh, massaging your skin. Smoothly, his hands in a cupping shape drags two fingers over your clothed cunt, chuckling darkly into your skin as you gasp. “Fuck Chan.”

He pushes himself up and makes home underneath your pants, achingly closer to the arousal that soaked your underwear. A thin layer of it spreads on the pads on his fingers, pushing them in with the layer of underwear in between. Your abdomen tenses up, but that’s how you knew he did it right. At the same time, his hand traces your jaw before prying it open your lips with his fingers. You let them slip inside your mouth with ease, quick to close around his digits, to which Chan let them pump inside your mouth. He grips your jaw with the rest of his hand, emulating you being full in both ends.

“You like that? You like it when I put my fingers in your mouth?”

You bob your head to nod, feeling his fingers plunge harder into your core as a reward. You moan loudly around the fingers in your mouth, and feel him drag his crotch over your thigh, getting himself off. You are overwhelmed to say the least but not unsatisfied. “You look like you’d do anything I want, am I right about that kitten?”

You nod again, subtle squirming at the height of your excitement.

“Then why don’t you make yourself comfortable and sit on my face for me, hmm? And you can return the favor for me if you like.”

He pulls away from you to give you space. He undresses himself from his plain white tee down to his sweatpants and soon after you follow suit. You ogle at the appearance of his sweat glistening torso, able to trace every deep toned structure by memory, and then match the level of his cock, pointing plainly in your direction, almost screaming at you to touch it.

“Is kitten getting distracted? You need some help undressing?”

He chuckles at your speechless state and comes to your aid. He lifts your shirt from your body, his confidence faltering at your beautiful flushed skin underneath as he looks at you in amazement. His hand glides your slide, thumbing over your erect nipples to see then get harder he squeezed. Pulling away from the trance, he smiles before lowering down and pulling off your pants and underwear, unveiling a glistening beauty that was your cunt. He could feel his mouth watering already.

“I want to eat you out so bad,” he says breathlessly.

Your blood pumping at his words, making you pull Chan flat on the bed. He lays sprawled out with a smile, he beckons you with a simple gesture, and before you know it, you lower yourself over his mouth, tempted by the cock that stood tall in front of you. You feel him kiss along your inner thigh, mouthing at your folds, until that while his smile engorges on your entrance. His thumbs spread you apart and feel your heart flutter at his pace. He had yet to use his tongue but skills did all the talking. You grab hold of his strong, reliable thighs and flatten your body on his.

You hold his shaft for the first time and laugh nervously. “Wow, I’m seeing it in person.”

“I hope I can exceed your expectations,” he chuckles into your heat.

First you take in the shape with your eyes, pristine and perfect just like on screen, then your mouth. You fit half of it inside the best you could, all while drowning to the sound of Chan’s wet love making to your soaked pussy, and bob face down on his length. You lube him with your saliva, transparent ribbons stretching as you pull away. Your hand cups his balls, kneading them like dough, adjusting to his size all too naturally.

While Chan had a delicious time, he grew increasingly aware how better you were at this than he imagined. This only encourages him more, his arms loop around your legs, pulling your body toward him roughly. He flicks his tongue in sharp licks and occasionally switches to devouring its inside like a gourmet meal. His nose buried deep into you, rubbing against the bud of your clit, playful pants leaving his lips.

“Mmh, Chan. Like that please…” you plead.

His nails dig into the flesh of your ass, licking fats and harsh stripes before letting you close up around his tongue. He explores you like he would a venture, ambrosia on his taste buds. On the other hand, you feel the need to catch up. You swallowed his girth, pushing it in deeper, and grind up on Chan’s face. When you reach his base, his hips come to aid, thrusting into your mouth with no remorse. You stabilize yourself on his stomach and let him hit the back of your throat senselessly. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, vibrating around him from your moans, tears start to swell up in your eyes.

Your muffled voice would echo from the walls, bouncing off every surface, before you came in his mouth, twitching enough that he forces you down on him. He drove you insane with what could do, driving you to pull your mouth off him to gasp for air, it all became too much, but not unwelcome. “P-please cum in my mouth, Chan. I want it so bad.”

Chan lets his mouth rest for a moment, takes the opportunity to take in oxygen and leaves you a last order before he dives back in. “Then put it back in your mouth for me, kitten.”

You do as you're told and force it down your throat, letting it hit far back in your uvula with your thrust until he pours inside you. Your eyes snap shut. You close the opening of your mouth to not let a single drop go to waste. Your cheeks inflate from lack of capacity and you're forced to swallow down what you’ve reined in. You fall to your side on the bed and Chan manages to pull himself up to lock eyes. A sweaty disheveled mess, Chan smiles in bliss seeing how fucked out you’ve become just for him. His fingers land on your lips and gently pull them apart to see your clean work. You stick your tongue plainly out in response, smiling just as bright as he was.

“Tired already?” He teases.

“Maybe, just...how do you do it? For hours on end too?”

“I just know what I’m doing, kitten. Don’t worry about the next round, I’ll do all the work,” he crawls on top of you, smoothing your frayed hair, “and while we’re at it, I can turn a camera on and we can have a little something to ourselves.”

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rrain-writes · 29 days

Text

Uhh I wrote an easter-inspired fic i guess. Enjoy!

It was a lovely day on Outset Island. The sun was shining, the seagulls were squawking, and the Chain finally got a chance to take a break from some of that teenage angst. Yes, even the ‘adults’.

Wind shouted sailing terms at Aryll, Hyrule and Wild, who all jumped up and down on a rock they had deemed their ship at his orders.

Legend, Four and Time relaxed on the beach, Four chatting to Wind’s Grandmother about her knitting.

Twilight and Warriors shouted as they wrestled in the waves, and Sky floated lazily in the water watching on.

After a while, Wind’s Grandmother called out. “Wind, Aryll! Time to bring your friends inside!”

Wind gasped excitedly, jumping off the rock and dragging the others with him. “Come on!” He cried. “We have to go!”

“Why?” Hyrule asked as he was tugged along by Aryll’s small hand. Aryll laughed before she answered for her brother.

“The gift dolphin will be coming soon! If we’re out here when he comes, then he won’t bring any gifts!”

“Gift dolphin?” Four asked, causing Wind to slow down. “What’s that?” The sailor looked around, observing everyone’s expressions.

“None of you know what the gift dolphin is?”

“I don’t think any of us know what a dolphin is.” Time replied with a chuckle. “Mind telling us about it?”

Wind nodded, grinning. “We have to get inside first though. Race you all!”

And so the odd little family ran across the beach, kicking up sand as they laughed. Some of them may have trailed behind each other, but no one walked alone. When they all made it to the house, Wind and Aryll took charge. Sitting everyone in a circle, the pair began to tell their story.

“The gift dolphin comes every year.” Wind explained. “And brings gifts for people who have been good. We aren’t allowed to see him though, otherwise we won’t get any gifts.”

“Why would he not give gifts if you see him?” Hyrule asked curiously.

“Grandma says he’s shy.” Aryll answered. “He doesn’t like coming close to the beaches when people are there.” Hyrule nodded along, satisfied with the answer.

“But how do you know when he’s come, if you can’t see him?” Wild asked.

Wind grinned, teeth bared in silent amusement. “You’ll know.” He replied cryptically. Wind’s Grandmother tilted her head like she was listening to something just in that moment. “I think it’s almost time.” She said in her kindly grandmother-ish voice. Aryll and Wind were nearly bouncing in excitement, their energy infectious.

All of a sudden there was a loud trumpeting noise, like a thousand… well, trumpets. That were all playing a low F. Wait… yeah no, that sounded like a low F.

Whatever note the trumpets were playing, it went on for a good couple of seconds before abruptly cutting to silence. Aryll let out a squeal before racing out the door, her brother hot on her heels. The more excitable members of the chain were quick to follow, and everyone else trailed out after them.

Outside the house looked bright and sunny. It looked magical, like paradise. It looked… okay, it looked the same as before, but the ✨vibes✨ were different. It was clear the gift dolphin had visited, but now it was time to see if he had delivered.

And delivered he had. In his own, special way, of course.

11 coconuts sat in a near little row where they hadn’t previously been. They still dripped with salty salt water.

“Look!” Wind cried out in joy as he darted to pick up one of the coconuts, holding it above his head. “There’s one for everyone!”

As the others went to go collect a coconut, Wind grabbed a sharp rock and methodically struck the shell of the hairy fruit until there was a clean break. He then prised his fingers into the gap and pulled it apart. Unlike a normal coconut, that was not from the gift dolphin, coconut water did not spill out.

Instead, there was a whole lot of crab meat, which Wind deposited in the bucket his Grandmother had brought out with her.

But wait! There’s more!

Inside the crab meat was a shiny, green… egg. That’s right, an egg.

“An egg?” Sky asked in confusion, parroting the author.

Legend blinked in surprise. “Hang on, what do you mean author?”

The author in question paused from where they were typing on their phone in the darkness of their bedroom at 2:13 at night.

*insert that backspacing noise the iPhone does when it’s off silent mode*

But wait! There’s more!

Inside the crab meat was a shiny, green… egg. That’s right, an egg.

“An egg?” Sky asked in confusion. Wind nodded as Aryll pulled a shiny yellow egg out of the coconut that she was holding (that is after she put the crab meat into her Grandmother’s bucket, of course).

“Watch.” The sailor said, holding the egg out for his brothers to see. He carefully pulled the shinyness away from the egg, because it turns out that was just its skin, to reveal a brown version of the egg. He then shoved it in his mouth.

“Yummy.” He said with a thumbs up.

The chain all scrambled to grab a coconut.

#fan fiction #linked universe #lu #lu twilight #lu wind #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu warriors #lu sky #lu four #lu time #fluff #crack #easter #outset island #lu aryll #wind's grandmother #coconuts

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anthrofreshtodeath · 9 months

Note

— one being shorter and it being a source of great enjoyment for the other

Their height difference is DELICIOUS

Ok, I went less romantic and more fun, but... I do love the Rizzoli siblings. Maura included.

Several people requested this one, so I am answering here, in just one spot. But know that I saw all your requests! Here we go!

___

Boiling. Once simmering, now raging. It’s how Maura would describe both the weather and her mood on this late July mid-morning. Crowds deplete her social battery, and Walt Disney World has no shortage of those - screaming children, oblivious adults, families overstimulated on sugar and at wits end. The smell of sunscreen, and human sweat, and confections on every corner turn her stomach when her anxiety reaches a crescendo.

She… she just… ugh.

She can’t believe she wants to stamp her foot like a child.

She can’t believe she wants to pout.

She can’t believe she agreed to go on this vacation with three overgrown children.

“I don’t know, we’re still pretty far away from the front,” Tommy Rizzoli climbs up on the railing they all leaned against and it puts him head and shoulders above the tallest person in their vicinity. “But I don’t know Maura, they got height requirements,” he says seriously, “you may have to turn back when it’s time to get on.”

Frankie and Jane Rizzoli bubble up into a gutsy, giggly fit of laughter, until Frankie’s chuckles become a raspberry and then they’re dissolving into real, hearty bellows. People around them stare, some smiling just because their humor is so infectious.

Maura is quickly becoming resistant to the strain, however, especially since the past half hour’s jokes have been entirely at the expense of her height. “I’ll have you know that five-seven is three inches over the US average for women!” she retorts lamely, crossing her arms.

Apparently that doesn’t matter to three people all just about six-feet tall. “Just remember, kid, stand on your tippy toes and they’ll let ya through,” Frankie teases, patting the top of her head while he uses his other hand to wipe tears from his eyes.

Jane hops up from her reclining stance, walking as the crowd slowly moves closer to the entrance of Space Mountain, clearly excited to get on. “Ok, I’m guessin’ thirty more minutes,” she said, eyes scanning the front of the line.

“Oh! I see it!” Tommy shouts, “forty-four inches. Damn, Maura, you may just be shit outta luck,” he says with childish glee. He looks at Jane, who laughs, too, but then smacks the back of his head.

“So you can read,” she jokes, standing between him and Maura and he frowns.

Frankie howls.

And, ok, Maura cracks a little bit of a smirk. Just a small one, because Tommy does have dyslexia. He’s an avid reader, audiobooks being a big help with that, but still.

“Real mature, Janie,” he barks, but when he looks at Maura, sends a wink her way, Maura returns his smile more fully. “Comin’ from someone who can’t remember to pack underwear to save her life. On any trip.”

“A’right, a’right,” Jane says loudly, wrapping her arm around her youngest brother’s shoulders. “Let’s call a truce until at least after this ride. I don’t need everyone hearing about my emergency underwear shopping trips.”

“Oh yeah, now she wants to play nice, when it’s all about her,” Frankie calls from over Maura’s head.

Jane shoots him a dagger of a look, and Maura can hardly take it seriously because of the matching shirts Frankie forced them to wear, with their surnames and a very apt I’m Sorry You Have to Wait in Line behind Us on the back.

The boil returns to a simmer.

It could be the shade, or it could be Frankie’s strong hands on her shoulders. It could have been Tommy’s wink, it could be the way Jane holds her own free hand out behind her back, her signal for Maura to put a snack in the palm of it. Maura sighs, pulls the trail mix out of her bag and pours some just as Frankie leans close to her ear.

“We love you, ya know,” he says, squeezing her muscles into loosening. “That’s why we roast ya.”

She lifts up her head, not jazzed about having to do so to catch his eyes after all their teasing, but his smile eases her. “I… I think I’m just not used to…”

“Well, see that name on the front of your shirt? Time to start gettin’ used to it,” he says with a little chuckle. “But you can always tell us when enough is enough. Trust me, we know we’re knuckleheads.”

“You’re assholes,” Maura corrects when she looks forward again, Jane having consumed her handful of trail mix and now bouncing on the balls of her feet with anticipation. They’d all been so animated when she said she’d never been here, elated as they planned every moment of the itinerary to ensure the perfect first Disney experience for her.

And now, Maura realizes, the ribbing is part of it. Because, as they told her countless times, Disney is only fun when you do it with family.

“Atta girl,” Frankie tells her after he gasps at her candor. He slaps his hands against her shoulders hard enough to jostle her, clearly pleased. “Ya learn quick.”

#otp prompts august 2023 #rizzoli and isles #would the Rizzolis be Disney people? probably not #but its fun to pretend

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spicy-picklez · 1 year

Text

Rainbow after a Storm (P7)

Includes:

Apart from the swearing that seems to be a massive part of my vocabulary, no warnings.

Characters:

Larissa Weems x fem!reader (Principal x 18y student)

Summary:

Larissa and Y/N spend the day out of the school.

Word Count:

2.6k

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A/N: I’m sorry for taking so long with this chapter, I’m trying to do a 72hr sleep challenge with my mate to become clinically insane. I’m officially 63 hours in. That’s also why this chapter is probably horrible, so apologies in advance if it is because I must admit, I don’t remember writing half of it.🤣

———————————————————

The sun was rising as you wake from your sleep. Your bare legs tangled with Larissa’s, your arm hanging loosely over her hip. Pulling her closer, you gently place a kiss in the crook of her neck as you sigh contently.

Of course you’d dreamed of this moment, the morning after you claimed each other as yours. But you’d never expected it to be more than that- a dream, and you certainly would never have expected it to feel so… right. Your bodies fit perfectly against each others, everything so calm like you’d done this everyday for the past eternity. Letting out a content noise in her sleep, she adjusts herself, pushing herself further up against you. You grin, placing a kiss on her bare shoulder. “You’re so gorgeous, mi corazón.”

Gently sliding your arm out from under her head, you slowly stand up, walking across to the bathroom. A grin spreads across your face as you see the marks of last night scattered across your skin. Sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, you start unwrapping the bandages. As you remove the gauze covered your wounds, you let out a sigh of relief. All stitches are still in place and none of your wounds have reopened. “Y/N?” You hear, Larissa’s worried voice from the next room. “In here, love.” Quickly cleaning up the gauze and bandages, you stand up.

Walking back out, you smile as you lay your eyes on her. Your handy work covers her skin, her blonde hair messy and lips swollen. Her cerulean eyes are unable to look away as you walk back over to her. She lifts up the covers as you get back into bed, her arms enveloping you in the comfort of her warm embrace. Your lips find hers, exchanging a soft and tender kiss. A smile grows across you lips as you stare at her in awe.

“What?” She lets out a gentle chuckle as she says this. You shake your head. “I just can’t believe someone as breath-taking as you would ever be interested in me.” Your hand gently brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. “How could I not?” She breathes.

“Your smile is infectious, your voice is heavenly. You are so goddamn breath-taking that I have to take a moment to figure out how to not seem like an idiot. Your personality may be a pain in my ass sometimes but its what makes you, you. I love that about you, you’ve never tried to hide as someone you’re not. Not to mention…” She grabs your hip and pulls you closer before continuing. “Your body is simple divine.” You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, looking away bashfully. Her finger hooks under your chin, gently making you look back at her. “I’m falling so unbelievably hard for you, Y/N.”

A smile spreads across your face. “And I you, Larissa.” Her lips close the gap between you. Your lips gently brushing over hers as you both pull each other closer. Sighing contentedly, you rest your head on her shoulder, placing a kiss over the hickey on her neck.

“Love?” She murmurs, her cheek resting on your head. “Mmm?”

“Did you want to get away from here for the day? I know this spot about an hour away on the other side of Jericho.” She almost hesitates as she asks this, unsure of your response. A grin appears on your face. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

Half an hour later, the two of you got into the car. Truth be told, 20 minutes of that had been used on cuddles. Her long fingers traced careful hearts on your thigh as you drive out of the Nevermore grounds. You stare out the window, your head in your hand, resting your elbow on the door as you subconsciously sing along to the lyrics.

That was how most of the drive went, aside from a few snippets of conversation where either of you would have a random thought. She pulls down a long gravel road, forestry casting shadows over you from either side as dust clouds rise behind you. As a black Jeep passes, a small clearing appears ahead about a hundred metres down the road. She pulls in, her hand leaving your leg as she turns off the car and gets out. Taking your hand as you get out of the car, she leads you down a dirt path through the trees.

“You’re not taking me out here to kill me are you?” A grin on your face as the trail winds around the trees. She looks at you, rolling her eyes with a smile. “Of course not, love. Just a few more minutes.”

Your hands still intertwined, the trails opens out to reveal a small clearing. The sun falls through the treetops revealing a waterfall cascading down a cliff. On a flat rock, lay a red and white checkered picnic blanket. A brown basket lay in between a set of pillows, on top of the blanket.

“Riss, this is stunning.” You marvel at the sight as she leads you over the blanket, taking a seat. “Marilyn came and set it up, the black Jeep we passed on the gravel road? That was her. She has no idea I’m with you though.” She smiles, softly running her thumb over the back of your hand. “That’s sweet of her to do that for you… How’d you even find this place?”

“It’s where my mum would take me before she crashed, we would be here almost every weekend swimming. When she passed, grandpa and nan took me out here, we stood on that ledge there and spread her ashes over the lake.” Her smile saddens as she replies. “Thank you for trusting me enough to take me here, love.” You lean forward and pull her into a hug. She wraps her arm around your neck, the other around your waist, pulling you close as she hides her head in your shoulder.

Your left hand rests on the back of her head as you place a kiss on her forehead. After staying like this for a few minutes, she eventually sits back up, rummaging in the basket before pulling out a small white box. “What’s this?” You ask as she places it in your hands. “Open it.” Her gorgeous smile growing back on her face. Undoing the black silk ribbon around it, you open the box. A sleek silver chain curves around the box, linking to a gorgeous diamond pendant. “Riss, it’s gorgeous… but I can’t accept this, I don’t deserve it.”

She gently picks up the bracelet, using her free hand to cup your face to look up at her. “If I thought you didn’t deserve it, I wouldn’t have bought it. You have captivated me in the best way possible. I always find myself smiling around you, I always find myself trusting you, more than I’d care to admit. You make me feel safe, so shut up about this ‘I don’t deserve it’ bullshit and let me put it on.”

A bashful smile grows across your face as you hold out your wrist. Her soft fingers brush against your skin as she clasps the bracelet around your wrist, the cool metal gently hugging your skin. She places a kiss to the inside of your wrist as your hand cups her cheek, rubbing your thumb over her soft skin. “You look beautiful darling.” She murmurs, a soft smile spreading across your face.

After you finish eating, you lie back as Larissa wraps her arms around you, lying her head on your chest. Your hand strokes through her hair as your other hand rests on her hip, your arm tucked behind her back. With the sound of the waterfall in the background, the two of you lie in each others safe embrace. Larissa lets out a small chuckle against your skin. “Whenever I need to be alone, I always come here. I used to think that I’d never have anyone to share this with. But since meeting you, everything’s changed.”

“Riss, are you telling me I’m the first person you’ve brought here?” You look down at her as she nods against your chest. “I’ve never trusted anyone else enough to bring here personally.”

Leaning your head down, you place a kiss on the top of her head. The one action saying a thousand words. Larissa’s ringtone sounds and she rolls over to pick her phone up, sitting up as she answers the phone. Standing up, you unzip your jersey, taking off your shirt followed by your pants, leaving you in your undergarments as you walk over to a rock at the edge of the lake.

Larissa’s eyes are hooked on you, hearing her stumble over her words behind you, you can’t help but grin. Leaping off the rock, you gracefully dive in, letting the water envelope you. The cool water sends a shock through your body as it flows over your skin, making you gasp as you resurface. Swimming over to less deep water, you feel your feet touch the ground, running your hands through your hair. “Alright, thank you Noble.” You hear as Larissa ends the call. She catches your eyes, a cheeky smile pulling at her lips as she drops her jacket off of her shoulders, slowly pulling her top off, followed by her pants.

As she walks over the rock you were previously on, your eyes trail down her body. Goddamn, she looks good. You watch as she dives into the water, her body suspending mid air for a second before disappearing under the water. “Jesus FUCK I forgot it’s winter.” You laugh, as she resurfaces next to you, gasping for air.

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” You murmur, glancing upwards as she stands up next to you. She smiles, wrapping her arms around you. “Only multiple times a day.”

You lean forwards to place a kiss on her soft lips. “Good, because you just took my breath away.”

“Like the cold water did mine.” You laugh as she closes the gap between you again. Her lips gently brushing against yours as your hand goes up to tangle in her hair. Her arms pull your waist impossibly closer to her as the kiss deepens, your tongues working perfectly with each other. A cheeky grin pulls at your lips as you break away. “What’s that look-.” She is cut short as you scoop water at her, droplets running down her face making her let out a yelp in surprise. “Y/N!” She laughs, splashing back at you as you let out a squeal.

Her heavenly laugh fills your ears, making your grin grow even wider, something you didn’t think was possible. You continue with the back and forth splashing before raising your hands. “I surrender! I surrender!” You laugh as another bout of water hits your face. She grins but readies her hand to splash you again. “And what, my love, do I get for winning?”

You slowly step closer to her, looking into each others eyes. Your hand slowly runs up her side before placing itself in the middle of her chest. Slowly, you lean towards her, your lips mere centimetres apart. You can feel her warm breath on your skin before turning around, beginning to walk away. Her hand reaches out, grabbing your neck from behind, using her free hand to turn your hips to face her. Her mouth presses up against yours, her tongue running over your lower lip. You immediately open your mouth to her as she hungrily kisses your lips. Your hands, hung over her hips, pull her closer to you. You can feel her heartbeat against you as your bodies flush flat against each other.

Gently nipping at her lip, she moans into the kiss, a grin appearing on both your faces. Pulling away from the kiss, the two of you breathe heavily as she rests her forehead against yours. “I’ll take it.” A cheeky smile on her face making you chuckle. “Though I am very cold so I’m gonna get the fuck out of here.” She continues as you nod, feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin. Following her out of the water, you shake your head, droplets of water flying in every direction. Walking back to your clothes, the two of you wring out your hair. Quickly pulling your clothes back on, you shove your hands into the pockets of your jersey.

“Y/N…” Larissa begins as you look up at her. “Mi corazón?” You reply, walking over to her. She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I know this going to sound completely wrong given that I’m your principal but I find myself falling for you harder with every moment I spend with you. I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life, showing you just how gorgeous you are and how much you deserve my affection. So… do you want to make this official? Will you be my girlfriend?” A grin pulls across your face as she waits for your response.

Your hand reaches up to cup her face, your other one on her hip as you pull her closer to you, placing your lips on hers. Both of you desperate to feel your bodies against each other, your lips moving with each others. Slowly pulling away from the kiss, she swallows, a smile on her face. “I take it that’s a yes?” She grins as you nod. “Of course Riss, 100% yes.” The both you giddily grinning, she presses her lips against yours for a firm but tender kiss.

Breaking away, the two of you gather up your stuff before heading back up to the trail leading through the woods. Your hands are intertwined as you walk through in a happy silence.

The minute you reach the car, Larissa is quick to start the engine, turning on the heater. “I don’t know why I thought swimming in winter was a good idea, because I’m fucking freezing now.” You laugh, her nodding in agreement. The two of you sit in the heat for a moment, enjoying the warm air coming out of the vents. “You know, I haven’t been that happy there since before my mum died… thank you.” Her voice soft and genuine as she says this. Leaning over, you gently graze your lips over hers. You still can’t believe that you’re now officially hers and she, yours.

“Of course mi corazón.” She places her hand on your thigh as she turns the car around, driving back along the gravel road. You grin as MILCK’s ‘Devil Devil’ starts playing, singing along the lyrics. A smile pulls at her lips as she listens to your melodic voice, her thumb lightly running up and down your thigh as the chorus plays.

“Do not try me devil, devil. Cannot buy me devil, devil. You won’t make a fool of me, oh no.” Larissa joins in as you sing the next part of the chorus. “What makes you so special, special to think I would ever settle for the devious dance between you… and me.” You place your hand over hers as the two of you sing along to the lyrics. The song finishes as you reach the end of the gravel road.

The drive back seemed rather short as you both spent the time belting out lyrics as each song came on. The two of you feeling like young school kids, unable to stop grinning at the fact that you’re now officially girlfriends.

———————————————————

#larissa weems #principal weems #larissa x reader #woman x woman #nevermore #forbidden love #forbidden romance

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l3ominor · 22 days

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candyfloss?

Candyfloss is a thing me and one of my writer friends co-author! It's essentially a crossover between both our books, where her character(Teresa) and my character (Noctis) end up meeting and falling in love! Most of it is fluff and feels and cuteness as they help each other out and are generally just adorable together. It's written like a roleplay, and takes place in one of my personal worlds.

Here's a bit of one of the scenes we wrote! Word count is 835

Noctis: I set my backpack down on the floor with a muffled thump, running a hand through my hair before flopping down on Teresa’s bed. “Whoomph… sparks, it’s been a day, hasn’t it?” I say to the air, running my hands down my face. I am gonna be sore tomorrow… but that’s what I get for spending most of the day trying to wrestle a machine into functioning. I sit up slightly, grinning a little at Teresa. “How’ve you been?” I can finally ask that, now that we’ve got Milo and Laelynn distracted and leaving us alone. Not gonna lie, I love hanging out with them, but I don’t have as much energy for that today. I mostly just wanna hang out with my favorite person.

Teresa: I grin back. His smile is infectious. I grab my book, coming to sit down on the bed beside him. “Oh, you know. Surviving. How are you doing?”

Noctis: I laugh a little, nodding. I definitely get that. “I’m doing pretty good. Spent most of today working on projects and all. I’m making some good progress on my hover stuff. I can actually get off the ground with it now. But I still have a lot of work to do on the stabilization so… I may have crashed a few times,” I rub my shoulder a little. It is a bit bruised from being landed on so many times, but it’ll be gone by tomorrow, so it’s nothing to worry about.

Teresa: “With you on it? I thought there was supposed to be standards for that type of thing, you know, testing.” I nudge his arm gently, settling back against the end of the bed. “I could heal you, probably. If it’s bugging you. I haven’t used much magic today since training hasn’t started yet…” I trail off, giving him time to respond.

Noctis: “oh yeah, there’s standards and all, and I was following them, so I didn’t get banged up too bad. Just the standard testing scrapes and bumps. But yea, how else would I test it to see if it worked? And you don’t have to worry about healing it or anything. I mean, unless you want to, I won’t stop you… but yeah it’s not too bad.” I smile a little, shrugging slightly. It really isn’t too bad but also… I kinda like it when she heals me. It feels nice and also kinda… shows that she cares.

Teresa: I reach out, taking his hand in mine. “I wouldn’t know. Unmanned tests? Drone flights? Remote control? I’m not good at the techy stuff.” I breathe out for a moment, focusing on his hand as I try to focus the everflame.

Noctis: I nod a little in thought, holding her hand. “Yeah… yeah I could do those. But then I wouldn’t really get a good feel for how it worked. Machines and computers can tell you a lot, but experience is the best teacher. At least in my opinion.”

Teresa: It’s really hard to concentrate when he’s holding my hand, or at least, find the right emotions. Warm ones are easy, when there’s casual embarrassment burning away at the tips of my ears, or surprise, or just that burbling hope and happiness melting in my chest. The cool ones are a problem, though. “If you say so.” I lean over kissing the side of his cheek before pulling away, hardly taking my attention off his hand. It’s easier to focus on when it’s a problem I’m still trying to solve. “Maybe not if it’s getting you thrown into a wall, but I believe you if you say it’s all according to plan. And I trust you to be safe.” … Most of the time. The everflame sparks in my fingers, just a drop. He was right that it wasn’t too bad, but still… it’s nice to heal him, and it’s got to be nice not to have bruises everywhere. I let it spread, dismissing it when there isn’t anything left to heal. “There,” I say, looking up. And- he’s staring at me. I look away automatically, a blush rising to my cheeks. “What?”

Noctis: I can’t stop myself from grinning a little. “Just… you’re amazing.” I say, a little breathlessly. I gently kiss the back of her hand, then smile up at her again. “Thank you,” Sparks, fire can’t even begin to describe the feeling in my chest. Gosh, I love her so much. How did I manage to get this lucky? To be with her. Her. she could have chosen anyone in the world, and she chose to say yes to me.

Teresa: My blush deepens. I can’t look at him. I pull away nudging him slightly. If I end up closer at the same time, well. There’s nothing I can do about that. There’s nothing I can say to that. “You’re a dork. Thank you.”

Noctis: I laugh, giving her hand a squeeze before reaching up to poke her in the side. “Love you,”

#l3o answers #WIPs ask game #l3o's OCs #L3ominor writing

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ossifer-bones · 1 year

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for the angst/fluff prompts: amberfield #74?

no beta we die like rachel amber (don't worry she doesn't die in this)

There’s a surreal moment where Max can’t quite recognise the girl who answers the door. She looks like Rachel, but there’s so many little things that are off. Weight on her shoulders that’s not normally present, dishevelled clothes, the dull appearance of her eyes, her tousled hair. A portrait of unhappiness.

“Rachel?”

Her features soften as her eyes focus on Max, though her smile still doesn’t light up her face like it usually does, and she greets her with a small voice. “Hey.”

Max deliberates, unsure of what to do next. She wants to ask how Rachel is, why she looks so worn, whether there’s anything she could do to help. But she knows how Rachel is. How she’d sooner push people away than risk being seen like this. Giving her the opportunity to deflect, to respond with a simple ‘I’m fine’, would be a mistake.

“Can I come in?” She asks.

It feels strange being so direct, being the one to knock and the one to ask to be invited in. The initiator instead of the observer. It’s a side of herself Rachel always coaxes out, usually with kind words or her infectious impulsiveness, yet what summons it now is Max’s own concern.

Rachel eyes Max curiously, her smile briefly tarnished by the passing shadow of a frown. There’s an uncomfortable beat where Max doesn’t know quite what to think, whether she’s crossed a line or if there’s something else going on that she’s unaware of. The early days with Rachel were always like that, full of anxious uncertainty and giddy energy in equal measure, but now the feeling is disquieting. What was once a given now feels alien.

“Yeah?” Rachel says, the smile back on her face. “Of course you can. When have I ever asked your permission before barging in before?”

Max laughs as she walks in the door, recalling every time Rachel took an unlocked door as an invitation. It may have bothered her if Rachel hadn’t always timed her visits conveniently, and the fact she usually heralded them with a text that’d hint at her later appearance. The first couple of times it definitely caught her off guard. But, with time, they settled into a rhythm they’re both comfortable with.

She sits herself on the chair by Rachel’s desk as Rachel herself takes the bed, crossing her legs underneath her and placing her chin on her palm and framing herself in the fading evening light just so. It’d make for a great picture, but Max knows this isn’t the time to be carrying her camera.

“So. What’s up, Max?”

“I was gonna ask you the same time.”

“Hm.” Rachel raises her eyebrows and grins sardonically, her mouth twisting as if she can taste something bitter. “I really look that bad, huh?”

Max bites the inside of her cheek, not knowing what to say, and Rachel clearly notices. She dismisses Max with a wave of her hand.

“God, you’re sweet.” Her grin returns. It’s a bit brighter this time, yet brittle. “Don’t worry, rhetorical question. It’s why I’m holed up in my room.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and Max notices that her earring isn’t there. “You’re the first person I’ve seen today.”

The earring Chloe made for her.

“Kinda glad about that too,” Rachel continues. “You’re, you know, the only person who gets the… situation.”

Hazel eyes fall away from Max as Rachel speaks, her gaze landing on some point on the floor. It’s painful to see her this despondent. The constant sense of motion Max knows her by is nowhere to be seen.

She pushes around the block in her throat and finally speaks the words that’ve been on her mind since she knocked on Rachel’s door. “You two still aren’t talking, are you?”

Rachel nods, staring into the distance. She glances up at Max again and looks at her for a beat, silent, eyes darting around her face, before finally speaking again. “Can you come here a sec? I’m not gonna be able to do this properly while you’re sat there.”

She stretches her legs out and lies back on the bed, half of her body gracelessly hanging off it, falling in such a way that there’s enough room at her side for Max herself to fit. She pats the vacant space. Her invitation hangs in the air as Max chews on her lip, wondering where this is going.

After some hesitation, she gets up and obliges Rachel’s request. It’s a bit cramped, but she manages to position herself in such a way that she can lounge comfortably next to Rachel. They both stare at the ceiling for what feels like an eternity.

The proximity is nice. They’re not skin to skin, but they’re about half the way there, and it’s strangely comfortable. Just the two of them, quietly resting together as they wait for the other to speak. Max listens to the gentle sound of Rachel’s breathing and the beat of her heart picks up in anticipation every time she hears it halting or wavering, simultaneously desperate for the lull in conversation to be over and wishing this moment could stretch on for a bit longer.

“She, Chloe, she told me that—uh, that she needs space. Before we can be friends again. Which, you know, that’s fair. I can accept that.” Rachel pauses and lets out a lengthy sigh. “But there’s this shitty part of me that just doesn’t think that’s fair and wants her to explode and just get all the shit out in the open like how it always used to go when we argued, like ripping the band-aid off? Like, I know how she is, I know that there’s probably so much she hasn’t told me—“

Max’s jaw tightens as she thinks about all the talks her and Chloe have had over the last few days. All the ways Rachel hurt her, and how she thinks she hurt Rachel, and the maelstrom of feelings in her mind both good and bad. She’s in a weird place, being friends with them both at a time like this, when they’re not talking, because it means she gets to hear the way they talk about each other when they’re not together. Everything is so messy.

“—but I also know that her not doing that, her distancing and not losing it on me, that’s a good thing. For us both. It means she gets to think about what she wants to say and I have time to think about what she’s already said to me so far.” Rachel’s breathless voice tapers off into a strained sound toward the end. She huffs, a sound halfway between a bitter laugh and a quiet sob, before drawing in a shaky breath. “And I just, I fucking freaked earlier because I realised how scared I am that this is gonna be how I lose her. Because we’ve never done this, we’ve always just fucking lost it and said so much hurtful shit and then made up about it afterwards, and it’s also making me question how I managed to get us to the point where us having screaming matches instead of just talking is somehow okay. Because it’s not.”

Max shifts, uncomfortable, not knowing how to proceed. She doesn’t want to act like Rachel hasn’t done anything wrong… But she also doesn’t want to hear Rachel beat herself up any more. No fresh words come to her mind and she doubts that she’d be able to talk around the anxiety choking her even if she did have something to say, so instead she falls back on using Rachel’s own language: touch.

She blindly feels for Rachel’s hand and when she finds it, she holds it tightly in her own. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Rachel glance at her. She hopes the weak smile she spies on Rachel’s face before she looks away again isn’t just a trick of the light. Her hand is warm in Max’s. When she lightly squeezes it, Rachel squeezes back.

It’s then that Rachel speaks again, voice low and steadier than before. “Am I a bad person?”

“No,” Max replies. She feels more sure about that than anything else she’s said tonight. As she rubs her thumb over Rachel’s hand, she focuses on the texture of her skin instead of the chaos in her own mind as she tries to think of the right words to say. “No one is perfect. We all fuck up, sometimes, but that doesn’t make us bad people.”

Another squeeze. “But we both know I hurt her. And she’s still hurting now.”

“If you were a bad person you wouldn’t be so upset about that.”

Rachel hums. “…I guess.”

“I know.”

“Do you think we can move past this? I, I know we’re not gonna get back to how things were before. But…” She clears her throat, sniffling a bit. “I don’t care. I just, I don’t want to lose her.”

Max thinks about everything Chloe’s said: all those words full of pain, bitterness, and love. Everything she’s said about Rachel has had something strong behind it, whether it be positive or negative. She knows that Chloe’s not the type to just give up on people. The fact they’re friends now, even after her five year stint in Seattle, is proof of that.

“I think it’ll take time. More time than you’re used to,” Max says. She turns to look at Rachel. “But you two will. Neither of you are going to give up on each other. Chloe doesn’t hate you, she’s just… really pissed. Hurting.”

Rachel sighs as she rolls onto her side to look at Max. Her eyes are red-rimmed and glistening. Max can see the twin wet tracks left by her tears. When she smiles it’s like all that vanishes for a fleeting moment, and the sight warms Max’s heart. “I hope you’re right.”

They lie like that for a while, looking at each other, before Rachel reaches across Max—without letting go of her hand—and grabs her phone to check the time. “It’s seven.”

Max blinks. “Right, um, I should get back to my room.“

“Can you sleep here tonight?” Rachel asks. She adds, “If you want to, I mean.”

It’s seeing Rachel like she is now, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks lightly flushed, and sounding so uncharacteristically uncertain that makes Max pay no heed to the voice in her mind reminding her about the essay she has due tomorrow for Ms. Grant and instead say—

“Yeah. I’d be happy to.”

#amberfield #rachel amber #max caulfield #life is strange #also a hint of amberpricefield if you really squint at it #and some past amberprice >:)#this is all just pre-relationship vibes tbh #i enjoyed writing this #my writing #writing prompt #thanks for the prompt!

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