#THAT SOUNDS AWFUL WHERES THE FLAVOR | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nevernonline · 4 months

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✧.* he's not into you; hvc

synopsis: curious what the problem is in your dating life where you just can’t seem to get guys to commit fully to you beyond a second date, your work associate offers his help.

part of my ninety minute movies one shot series. ♡︎

paring: vernon x fem! reader.

genre: co-workers2friends2lovers (? lmao)

warning/s: mentions of substances (alcohol, weed, cig, vape etc.) swearing, very bad jokes!, sexy time (y/n has female genitalia!) pls no minors!!

word count: 6.3k

content: . non-idol idolings, some other svt members. y/n and vernon work at a bar.

note: our next stop in my fav little movie inspired writings is he's just not that into you!! a true classic in my eyes. and who better to be our male lead than bernon himself, a perfect silly goofy man. i acc tried to edit and be good?? for once.. lmao. love u xo. HAPPY NEW YEAR.

Waltzing around your co-workers behind the bar like a choreographed dance, handing out drinks to some of your familiar customers, soaking cherries in alcohol, and stuffing your tips inside of your folder for the night it was a perfect distraction from the thoughts running through your mind about that awful date you had gone on the night before.

You were convincing yourself all the guys you’ve been out with just weren’t for you, maybe to make yourself feel better, maybe just to put blame on someone else for the reasons you can’t seem to surpass a second date.

“Y/N, could I get two vodka martinis. One dirty and one with a twist, twice shaken please.”

“No problem, Som.”

Somi was one of your co-workers and someone you’ve become close friends with working with her over the course of a year when the bar first opened. standing by your side on the busiest night of the week, the other was Vernon, he was slightly newer and unfamiliar standing next to you behind the bar, girls flirting with him left, right and center hoping to crack open his quiet yet charming exterior.

Taking orders upon orders your body was craving a moment to yourself, being an introvert and working in a high volume environment with the type of company that spends hundreds of dollars a night just to sit at a table and feel important takes a toll on you.

“Vernon, would you be cool if I stepped outside for a second?”

“Yeah, no problem. I’m good.”

“Alright, thanks I’ll be back in five.”

“Sounds good.”

Nothing more than his simple answers, for the most all you know about him is he’s your age, in college not sure what major he could possibly be studying, and he lives decently close to the bar, coming in on his days off with groups of his friends to have a drink of his own made at your own hands.

Stepping outside the employee entrance into the back of the building, feeling the cool air light up your body, you decided to light up something of your own, a small perfectly rolled cigarette wrapped up in its signature strawberry flavored paper and vanilla tobacco inside.

Three minutes into your first break of the night, the door slid open revealing the quiet boy standing in its frame.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I actually need your help. A big group of finance dudes came in.”

“It’s alright, I’ll save it for later.”

Dipping the pastel candy like cigarette into the ashtray, basically kissing it and saying you’ll see it soon, you stepped back in with Vernon to your front strolling through the back room full of fresh liquor bottles.

“This is a weird question. But what were you smoking? It smells good. Actually, normally cigarettes make me nauseous as hell.”

“Oh. It’s a vanilla tobacco, but my rolling papers are strawberry so it’s kind of sweeter that way.”

“No wonder. I always thought you smelt like vanilla musk, but I knew it was something different. I just assumed it was perfume. I like it.”

“Thanks, Vern.”

“Yeah. Want to take the table? Or wait for them to come up to us?”

“I’ll go.”

“Alright.”

Cutting around the marble countertop, trying to avoid the patrons sitting at the end of the bar. You spot the group of men wearing their fancy suit jackets, and various colors of button down tops. One of them in particular was your date from a few weeks ago. The one who left you a post it note on your nightstand to wake up to basically telling you he wouldn’t call but thanks for the fuck.

Swilling your pride, you stayed walking towards them, now with the pretty smile usually wiped across your face lost and turned into a closed lip grin.

“Hey, what can I get for you guys?”

“I’ll take you with a side of bourbon on the rocks please.”

“Clever. I’m not on the menu. Anything for you.”

Your fingers pointed towards the rest of the helm just patiently waiting for more unusual comments and weird flirting tactics.

Your date though, kept his head buried in his menu, avoiding making eye contact with you out of his own embarrassment making you decide to fuck with him a little in front of his annoying crowd of friends.

“And anything for you, Chris? Jack Daniels and Coke with a splash of cherry I presume? Or are you going to write your order down on a post it note?”

His crowd erupted in laughter, clearly aware of his tactics when he leaves girls and decides to not call them back.

He muttered back it was fine as you walked off back to Vernon watching on with a smirk on his face.

“You know him I assume?”

“Unfortunately I do.”

“Can I ask how?”

You contemplated telling him a lie, just something simple like he was an old friend or an ex-boyfriend, but in order to keep him from opening up to you, you chose the real reason.

“Actually we went out a few weeks ago. In the morning I woke up to a note taped to my pillow saying how he wasn’t interested in seeing me anymore but thanking me for being a good fuck and being so accommodating and sexy.”

“No fucking way.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“Want me to spit in his drink?”

“Yes. But I don’t want you to lose your job. It’s alright, not the first time for me unfortunately and actually maybe one of the nicer ones.”

“Not the first time a dude you’ve fucked wrote you a note saying he’s not into you?”

“There’s been worse believe it or not.”

“You’ve piqued my interest.”

“I’m sure.”

“How do you meet dudes like that?”

“I’m a lucky girl, now do me a favor and take these drinks to them, because if I do I’ll probably say some shit I’ll regret.”

“Alright. What’s his name?”

“Who?”

“Asshole over there.”

“Chris”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“Vernon why?”

“No reason, keep working.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“My whole vibe is stupid, be back in a second.”

Watching the boy out of the corner of your eye, you watched as he placed everyone’s drinks for them, reaching Christopher last, pretending to trip over his chair, spilling the alcoholic concoction over his pants.

“Dude what the fuck?”

“Oh shit, my bad. Let me get you a new one.”

“Why the fuck are you so clumsy, how am I going to get a girl here when I look like I pissed myself?”

“The girls that come in here don’t want some bitch who drinks cherry whiskey and Coke, they like real men. But I’ll be back in a second.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me, man. One second alright I’ll be back with your bitch drink.”

Chris’s friends seem to be enjoying watching his night being turned into a shit storm, assuming they maybe don’t enjoy his company much either.

“Why did you do that?”

“He seems like a tool, he’ll be fine.”

“Well thank you. It was funny, I had to hold my laughter in so he doesn’t think I made you do that for me.”

“Safe bet.”

Your night continued on until midnight when all the happy and drunk patrons exited the restaurant and you got to cleaning up the bar space, leaving you, Vernon, and Somi alone in the dimly lit room.

“Vernon? Want to stay and have a drink as a thank you for helping me out. Somi would but she has to get back to her ball and chain.”

“Are we allowed to do that?”

“Well my dad owns the place, I don’t think he cares much.”

“You’re dad? Wait what the fuck, I never put that together.”

“Yeah. Him and his friends.”

“Holy shit.”

Laughing along with Somi at his amazement, you bid her goodbye before sliding into a bar top table, holding the glass of vodka in your well manicured fingers.

Much to your surprise your more than shy coworker decided to stay with you sliding in next to you holding his own glass of beer.

“So wait. I’m confused. Your dad and his friends opened the bar. Why do you want to work here?”

“Easy. I always liked the idea of being a bartender and my parents would kill me for being a kid who didn’t have a job or work ethic and just using their money.”

“Got it. Aren’t you in school?”

“ I haven’t decided what to go for yet so I’m taking some time. Not sure yet. You?”

“Journalism.”

“For real? That’s cool as hell.”

“Yeah.”

Your phone lit up on the table blasting the ringtone really loudly in between you and Vernon, flashing the name Matthew on the screen.

“Hey. Yeah, this is her. Oh really? Can you hold on just ONE second. Thanks.”

Vernon waved you along letting you go on with the conversation with the guy who's been taking you on dates for the past week, curious why he’d be calling you late.

“Wait since I’m out of the loop, who was that?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so his name is Matt. We met at the coffee shop a few weeks ago. He was cute. He paid for my drink and we just sort of hit it off.”

“Have you guys slept together?”

“Yeah. The first day we met.”

“Y/N no. You’ve got to make these guys wait. Like they’re getting exactly what they want from you before you even know if they’re fucking idiots or not.”

“Really? Does that actually work though? I mean you heard him say he likes his ex there’s nothing I can change about that?”

“Did you ask when his last relationship was before you guys started dating?”

“Yeah he said he’d been single for two months.”

“Two months? And he’s already back with her? Or was he always seeing her when you guys were together? What kind of dates did you go on? Dinner? Or?”

“Coffee sometimes, then he’d just come hangout at my place most of the time.”

“So you never went to his?”

“No.”

“So he was cheating on his girlfriend with you?”

“What? No, he said he was single.”

Vernon ran his hands through his hair and let out a sigh before looking back at you.

“You guys met for coffee, you’d have him over to your place during the day, you’d have sex and he’d leave? You never saw his apartment? He just confessed that he’s been seeing his so-called ex over the phone the whole time you guys were quote on quote dating. He definitely lives with her and was fucking you for fun. You weren’t dating.”

“Speaking from experience, Vernon?”

“No. I’ve only ever dated one person seriously.”

“So why are you giving me advice about my dating life?”

“Because I had a successful five year relationship and you’ve had none? And you seem to need it.”

“Wow. I would normally be pissed, but you’re right. I can’t seem to tell what I’m doing wrong actually. Maybe I'm destined to be single.”

“Not true. You’re pretty, nice, and you’ve got a cool ass life. You’ll be fine, you just need some editing maybe.”

“So what? You want to be my relationship guru? Or?”

“Yes.”

You outstretched your hand to his and he shook it for you, confirming your now partnership where he would help you with your dating life.

“Wait, before we go further. Try this.”

Lifting the straw to your lips for you, Vernon offered you a sip of the drink he made.

“Wait, that's good, what is that?”

“That assholes drink.”

“I hate that I actually fucking like it.”

“Me too.”

You and Vernon spend the rest of your night together shooting the shit and getting to know each other more, once two am rolls around you both decide to head out and walk home.

“This is me.”

Much to your surprise Vernon swipes his key card to enter the same building as you.

“Wait, you live here? How come I’ve never seen you in the building?”

“I just moved in like three weeks ago. I spend most of my time in my apartment with my cat if I'm not at school or work.”

“What floor?”

“Seven.”

Pressing the number seven on the elevator button before you tapped number thirteen, you and Vernon rode silently up to your separate homes.

Before stepping off onto his floor, he pressed the hold door button.

“Come over tomorrow around six? I know you have the night off so we can hangout or whatever.”

“Okay. What should I wear?”

“You’ll figure it out. You always look nice. Casual is fine.”

Rolling your eyes to his back as he strode off to his front door, you yelled a goodnight out of the door before they clocked shit and ran you up to your own place.

Waking up the next morning you stepped out of your bed and pulled out all the ingredients to make a perfect cup of coffee, something that was like a religious ritual for you to clear your head before starting your day.

After the brew was finished dripping though your pour over carafe you decided to take in some sun on your balcony and prepare your mind for the rest of the day until you were set to get ready to hangout with Vernon.

The unexpected invitation to go on a quote in quote fake date with the boy had your head confused. What should you wear? What should you do with the little information given to you about what’s going on?

After spending a few hours outside with your coffee and disconnecting from your phone, you decided to head back inside and go through your closet in search of the perfect casual outfit.

Placing options on your bed, you hopped into the shower and spent time under the hot steam scrubbing your body from head to toe. After you were satisfied with your cleanliness, you stepped out and sat at your vanity, drying your hair and curling the front two pieces of your perfectly done up-do, painted your nails a perfect cherry red color, and put on your typical makeup look.

Sliding your slippers back on you stood now in front of the three tops hanging in front of you feeling them for the perfect vibe. Eventually selecting a simple white button down top to match your gray pleated short skirt, slipping up a pair of simple tights and black heeled knee high boots.

Finally the time came for you to run down seven floors and step off to find Vernon, knocking on the door to the left of the elevator a woman who you’ve seen around the building once or twice answered.

“I’m sorry, I think maybe I have the wrong apartment. Excuse me-“

“You’re y/n?”

“Yes. Hi.”

“Hi, I’m Vernon’s friend Chae. I like your outfit, it's super cute.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Stepping into the similar shaped apartment to yours, you notice the colorful paintings all over the walls, the beautiful soft blue couch, and the cozy smell of fresh linen hitting your nose, as you walked in further you saw a group of various people sitting around in his living room, some pouring themselves drinks, some standing around eating snacks and talking.

“Would you like water or a beer or anything?”

“Oh no, I’m alright for now thank you.”

“No problem, I’ll just go see what he’s up to. Excuse me.”

“Sure.”

After waiting five minutes in the threshold of Vernon’s front entry, he peeled around the corner, dressed in an oddly similar outfit to yours, minus the heels and mini skirt.

His crisp white shirt and matching gray coat and pants, a black leather bag, carrying a pair of nice black sneakers in his hand.

“Hey, sorry I accidentally spilled cola on my other shirt, I had to change.”

“That’s alright. I like your outfit though, you look cool.”

“Thank you, I like yours too. I told you about casual dress though.”

“This is casual?”

“If you say so. Want a cocktail or something?”

“Uh, sure? Wait though I thought we were going out or something, I didn’t know you had company. I can leave?”

“No. Well, we’re going out a little later to a party, I wanted to invite you, come on.”

You stepped into his kitchen where he had various types of alcohol scattered on the counter, next to slices of pizza and a couple bags of chips.

You looked around the room at the new faces, some of them you recognized from Vernon bring them to the bar with him.

“Want the asshole special again? I actually made myself one.”

“Weirdly I do, yeah.”

Vernon laughed as he mixed you the same concoction he spilled the night before, handing it over to you gracefully.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem. This is a weird question, but did you roll any of your cigarettes or have any of those cute papers you use? I told my friend about them and he wanted to find some to roll a joint with.”

Digging through your bag you pulled out the small case full of tobacco and papers from inside, holding out the pack to him to give to his friend, someone who you’re sure you’ll meet at one point or another.

“Wow. Thank you.”

“It’s cool, I have a bunch anyway. So, what does this have to do with you being my relationship guru anyway?”

“Nothing actually. Just wanted to hangout with you more.”

“Oh, right.”

Something about Vernon being so kind to you and sticking up for you last night and today was making you see him in a different light almost like you were starting to have a crush on him. But he could never be into you that way, especially seeing how he interacted with his friend Chae.

Walking around his apartment and saying hello to his friends, you chose a seat adjacent to the couch, one that was unoccupied and slightly out of the way.

Some of his friends knew who you were without you even having to mention it. Talking and getting to know them. You excused yourself to the bathroom, but stumbled upon a room adorned with movie posters and music equipment.

“The bathroom is right here.”

Vernon pointed to the unlatched door down the hall, the same position as yours.

“I know. I live here too. I was just being nosy.”

“Oh. That's cool, you can check it out if you want.”

Stepping into his office space, you smiled looking around at his various media and collectables, staring at the framed record on the wall signed by an artist you like yourself.

“This is yours?”

“Yeah. I got it as a birthday present when I was like eighteen. I love it.”

“Sick.”

“Sick? You’re so weird. Do people say that shit still?”

“Fuck off. People definitely still say that.”

“Not cool people.”

“You literally told me I was cool yesterday?”

“I spoke too soon.”

As you and Vernon were standing in his room laughing, Chae appeared behind you both without your knowledge and gripped Vernon’s side, scaring the both of you with his reaction and finding her laughing her ass off.

“You should have seen your guys’ faces. It was too easy.”

“You’re such an asshole, I almost hit you.”

“I’d like to see you try, big boy.”

You just smiled, feeling a little awkward watching Vernon flirting with his friend.

“We want to head out, are you guys ready?”

“I’m good, I think Y/N had to use the restroom though?”

“Yeah. It’s okay, I think I might just head back to my place. I have a headache, but you guys have fun.”

“No way, come on, take some tylenol and let's go.”

“Chae. Let her leave if she doesn't feel good.”

“She obviously wants to leave because she found your weird collection of fucking disney vhs tapes, not because of her headache.”

“Not true.”

“It’s fine. I’ll come, just let me use the restroom fast. I’ll meet you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Leaving you to do your business, Chae handed you two small white pills from her bag, and a swig of her beer to wash them down with before heading behind Vernon as they got ready to leave for the next location.

After a few minutes of walking you and Vernon’s friends pulled up outside a bar you’ve never been to but heard a lot of your friends enjoyed, amply titled Love Bites.

Vernon held onto your shoulders and walked you into the front door of the bar, pushing you towards a table where he told you to sit down and wait, as he walked away and left you with his friend to order everyone a round of drinks.

The seat next to you that you’d hoped Vernon would fill was taken by a dark haired boy you hadn’t recognized from earlier back at the apartment.

“Y/n? Hi, I’m Joshua.

“Oh. Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Vernon’s friend just so you don’t think I’m some random dude.”

“Right. I figured.”

“Actually I was the one who asked for the papers, thank you by the way.”

“Yeah, no problem. Do you smoke? Like weed or?”

“Yeah, just weed. I used to smoke cigarettes and vape for a while or whatever, but I stopped for a while. I just realized it was a boring habit.”

“How’d you know I had strawberry papers, did Vernon tell everyone?”

“No, no. He just said you were cool. Very friendly, but you didn’t talk about yourself enough and that you have nice smelling cigarettes that you smell like sometimes. Nothing too much really.”

“Oh. No dirty details about my weird dating life he pressed me about?”

“Nothing about that, but he knows about my awful habits too. He always tells me I need serious help.”

“Yes. Me too, I called him a relationship guru.”

“He thinks he is, but he’s had a crush on the same girl for a while. I'm not sure who she is, he never told me anything more about it. I’m not sure he’s the guy I’d trust to set me up that's for sure.”

“Oh really? Is it, you know?”

You pointed with your eyes across the table to Chae who was seated next to Vernon’s side.

“I don’t think so. She’s definitely been in love with him forever, they were friends when they were kids and rekindled a few years ago when she moved back to town. She's really obvious about it, but he never said anything.”

“Ah, I don’t know he seems to flirt with her alot.”

“He’s just like that with everyone, overly friendly, kind of dorky.”

“I see that.”

You spent the entire night talking and getting to know Joshua, surprisingly finding out a lot of things that made you more and more intrigued about him.

When the night finally came to a close, you left with his number and a plan to go out with just the two of you a few days later. Maybe Vernon being your friend was going to pay off more than you knew and his relationship guru advice brought you right into the hands of his very good friend.

In the next few weeks you continued working and getting to know the pervious shy boy you thought Vernon was and going on actual good dates with his friend Joshua, who much to your surprise wasn’t the type to fuck you and forget you on a first date.

Months passed by as your casual dating with Joshua went on and on, thinking that while it was good something with him was missing. But, you kept giving him a chance anyway. Unaware what that something was.

On a night where you were getting ready to go out for a date you found Vernon outside of your apartment door, knocking on it wildly waiting for you to come and answer.

“Is everything alright?”

“Y/n.”

“Want to come in?”

“No. Yes? Is that alright?”

“Are you okay? You’re acting weird as hell.”

Vernon just nodded his head and sat down on your couch.

“Are you getting ready to head out? You look really nice. I feel like I’m interrupting something.”

“No. I just got home from a date actually. Why?”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“It would help if you stopped saying sorry and told me what was wrong.”

“Chae.”

“Oh?”

“She was over at my apartment. We were just playing video games and having some beer or whatever, but she tried to kiss me. And I let her at first, but I didn’t want to kiss her. I never have. I know she’s pretty and whatever, but like..”

“Wait. So why did you come up here?”

“Because I didn’t know what else to do? She’s still downstairs, she said she won't leave until we talk about what happened and she’s crying. I tried to tell her I wasn’t interested in her romantically and I liked being her friend, but she won’t take no for an answer. I just didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry I interrupted your nice night like this.”

You walked over into the kitchen and poured Vernon a glass of water to hopefully settle him from rambling so much.

“Can I ask you why you aren’t interested in her? I always assumed you guys had something going on.”

“No. Never. She’s not my taste, I mean she’s really cool. But we’re really similar and I don’t want to date someone who reminds me too much of myself otherwise I’d get bored, but never break it off maybe because I’m too nice or maybe because I feel too comfortable. Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah.”

“Plus, I told her I liked someone else anyway and she got even more upset. She started accusing me of being a liar and leading her on.”

“I’ll be honest and when I first met her I thought you liked her too, but the more I got to know you I realized you pretty much act that way around everyone you’re comfortable with.”

“Right.”

“Want me to help you get her out of your apartment?”

“You would?”

“Yeah. I still owe you for spilling that drink a long time ago.”

“My god, no you don’t”

“Shh, in my heart I do. Are you staying here or coming?”

“I’ll come.”

Heading down the elevator still in your nice date outfit, you grabbed his keys and unlocked his front door to find Chae still sitting on his couch, waiting for him to come home.

Looking her up and down you found her dressed in shorts two sizes too small with Vernon’s T-Shirt draped over her body. Clinging to his pillow and looking you up and down.

“What the fuck is she doing here, Vernon? She’s not a part of this at all.”

“Actually, I’m here to ask you to politely get the fuck out of his apartment and stop making him feel bad for not liking you.”

“You’re such a bitch, he does like me. The person he doesn’t like is you, so maybe you should get the fuck out of here. He just feels sorry for you.”

“Chae, that’s not true and don’t talk to her like that.”

“You’re actually defending her? She hasn’t been nice to me once since she met me. She just acts like an entitled brat around me all the time, making me feel stupid. She’s not a part of this conversation at all, don’t you understand how insane this is?”

“She is a part of it actually, because she’s the girl I have a crush on and if I wasn’t so focused on making everyone else around me happy at the price of myself I would’ve been able to tell her that already instead of doing it like this.”

“Verno-”

“Her? You fucking like her? Seriously? She told me she never would date someone like you and that you’re dorky and a loser.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s never happened. You’re the one who parades around making me feel like an idiot and that I'm not good enough to be friends with Vernon. You know who’s being an entitled brat? You. You’re kicking this poor guy out of HIS apartment for not liking you back like a child, you’re sitting on his couch in HIS clothes, waiting for him to come back to you to try to pressure him into being with you when he told you he likes someone else. If you’re such a good ass friend to him like you constantly claim to be, then maybe be that good friend and get the hell up, give him his shirt back and get the fuck out or you can talk to him like the adult that you are and try to understand how he feels and continue being his friend. If you don’t like either option I don’t know what else to tell you. So, what will it be?”

“If I talk to him, you need to get the fuck out of here, I don’t want you around.”

“Fine with me, but stop being such an insufferable bitch and maybe have some compassion. Goodnight.”

Not wanting to wait around for the elevator, you slammed Vernon’s door shut leaving them to have their conversation and walked up the seven flights of stairs back into your cozy home untainted by her bad energy.

Hours later after you were showered and ready to destress from the absolute chaos your night has been, you poured yourself a glass of wine and sat on your to smoke a nicely rolled joint as a treat to yourself, leaving your phone inside your room and out of your eyesight.

Suddenly mid-inhale another knock came to your door, half of you wanted to pretend you were asleep, but another part of you assumed whoever it was must have an issue with you smoking inside your home.

Looking through the peephole of your front door, you saw for the second time in the night Vernon standing outside, now in his plaid pj pants and a hoodie pacing around waiting for you to answer.

Taking in a deep breath you opened the door and took one look at his messy hair, realizing he must have been trying to sleep, but couldn’t.

“Yes?”

“Can I come in?”

“Be my guest. Sorry I’m smoking weed inside, it smells weird.”

“Can I have a hit actually?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Handing over the pink flower, Vernon took an incredibly long hit of the weed, exhaling it creating a cloud over the two of you.

“Wine?”

“Uh, not yet. Can I confess something to you?”

“Is it about the girl you like?”

“Sorry you had to find out like that. I was planning on telling you, but then you started seeing Josh and whatever else it just got away from me, it wasn’t the right time I know. I just let it slip.”

“It’s okay, Vernon”

“It’s not, especially when you’re not single. I feel like I ruined any relationship we had with saying it, even our platonic one.”

“When you talked about ruining my nice night before? Didn’t you wonder why I was coming home from a date at 7:00pm? It was because I actually just broke it off with Joshua. He was really nice about it of course, but I just felt like we were friends and nothing more.”

“Oh. So you’re not?”

“Dating him? No.”

“So I didn’t ruin it?”

“My night? Not at all, it wasn't that great anyway.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

Vernon took the opportunity to steal your glass of wine and downed it right then and there whispering a small sorry to you for doing so.

“Okay, so. I knew I liked you the moment we started working together. I wasn’t sure how to tell you ever, I wasn’t even sure how to talk to you because you made me feel so awkward, not because you were mean or anything, just because I knew I’d sound like a fucking dumb ass. But, that night we first walked home together and had a drink. I found out so much about you, I liked you even more so I asked you to come and hangout with us at my place, I figured I could get some courage to finally ask you out, which ultimately I failed at again and it just spiraled out of control. It’s just gotten more and more bad for me, like bad in the sense I just can’t stop falling for you and you didn’t know. Until I essentially fucked it up further telling you I like you infront of Chae, which was a mistake too. I keep fucking it up.”

“You're doing pretty good if you ask me, but you should’ve just told me a long time ago then none of this crazy shit would have happened.”

“That's charming, no?”

“Only because it's you.”

“Look, I don’t need an answer from you now or ever, just know I wont be fucking weird about it anymore. I’ll let you go to bed. I’ll see you in a few days at work and everything will be good.”

Vernon got up and tried to walk towards your front door for an exit, but you caught up to him in time, grabbing him by his shoulders and spinning him around just in time to plant a perfectly placed kiss on his pink lips.

“I like that you’re fucking weird and for your information I admire your dumb vhs tape collection.”

Vernon took his opportunity to kiss you again, even longer this time than the first one, pushing his tongue into your mouth, making you moan as his hands snaked their way around your body.

“You taste like vanilla too.”

“Nice?”

“Perfect.”

“Would us having sex count as us fucking on the first date?”

“This would be considered fucking before the first date.”

“Ah, I see. Is that a no-no?”

“I’ll let it slide.”

Vernon lifted you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his long torso, and carried you onto your couch, setting you down to be perfectly face to face with his enclosed penis, now beginning to grow inside of his pants. Dipping your fingers into the waistband of his pants you grazed the tips of your fingers over the head of his dick, making him shiver from the cold touch of your hands.

Unwrapsping him like a present, his penis flew from his waistband and you quickly wrapped your lips around the soft pink skin, slightly creating a suction cup with your lips as his hands found their way to the back of your head and he fucked your face gently.

As his speed picked up, the head of his dick was pounding its way to the back of your throat making him weak in the knees and unsure how much longer he could go on like this without relieving himself inside of your mouth.

In order to savor this moment further, he against his better judgment pulled you off of him and got on his knees in front of you, running a finger down your neck, placing soft kisses on your lips and all the way down to your sternum, his fingers following along.

Pushing over your panties to the side he ran those same fingers up and down your wet center, making you moan and push onto him, begging for him to put them inside of you without many words.

When he was finally done teasing you, he placed his first two fingers at the entrance and ran his thumb over your clit making you squirm and let out a small moan, trying to grind your way further onto him.

With the same speed as before he started pumping his fingers into your wet center, crawling his way into your body and making you overwhelmed with pleasure.

Suddenly he was four fingers deep stretching you out as a preparation for you to be comfortable fucking his much larger dick when suddenly you squirted all over his bare chest, slinking back onto the couch in a fit of heavy breathing.

Vernon didn’t let you off the hook though, he grabbed onto you hips, carrying you onto the floor under him. Finally fucking you through your previous orgasm, riding into the sensitive waters of your clit, softly sucking on your nipples as he slowly thrusted himself onto you, almost like it was the only way to cure the aching in your center.

As the sweat and your bodily fluids mix their way together, the heavy breathing slowed to near silence, watching him in ecstasy fucking into you, noticing the beauty of the way his eyelashes ran across his cheeks and the small light gold flecks in his eyes. He’s never been more beautiful to you than he was tonight.

Suddenly in your daze his lips came onto yours before he slightly lifted them off of you to whisper while they still grazed over the top.

“Can I come inside?”

“Please.”

And with your verbal confirmation Vernon filled up your body with his semen and rode into his very own orgasm as well.

Kissing you once again he got up and ran into your bathroom to grab a clean towel for you both to clean up with and laid back down next to you on the floor.

Suddenly the two of you erupted into laughter, just thinking about how stupid you both were to see chemistry between you was about as hot as the sex you both indulged in.

“I can’t believe you were going to leave.”

“I can’t believe I thought you weren’t into me.”

“Who said I wasn’t lying?”

“The way you were moaning and fucking into me told me all I needed to know.”

“Ok, hot shot.”

“So about that first date?”

“It’s on.”

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wardenparker · 3 months

Text

Hurry Home

Frankie Morales x female reader x Santiago Garcia

Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: Reader is described as wearing feminine clothing and having hair long enough to run fingers through. Fluff. Domesticity. Food/alcohol. Oral sex (m receiving), mention of shower sex. Summary: A small snapshot of an established poly relationship. Notes: There is no world in which I do not want to be in a poly marriage with Frankie and Pope. End of story. I hope you enjoy!

The light in the living room is still on when you come through the door; the smell of long-cooked chili wafting from the kitchen where unwashed dishes sit waiting for the morning. You drop your purse in its traditional place on the little table by the door and immediately reach down to pry the high heels off your aching feet. Too many damned meetings have fried your brain and left you craving a hot dinner and sweet cuddles. Thankfully, that delicious smell from the kitchen and the sound of Yellowstone on the television in the living room mean that Santiago is home. Alas, the gentle snoring means he has fallen asleep on the sofa.

Intent on not waking him up, you decide not to turn on the light and move soundlessly around the kitchen in your stockings and dress, glad to have rejected your heels at the door. Santi’s chili is your favourite comfort food. It’s spicy enough to clean out your sinuses but so complexly flavored that he completely betrays his years of culinary school every time he makes it. And he never minds that you scoop it up in half a bag’s worth of convenience store tortilla chips every time you need that next level comfort. Tonight, you pour absurd amounts of cheap tequila and margarita mix into a novelty pint glass and tap the microwave button to stop the heating cycle before it beeps too loudly across the apartment.

You reach blindly over to grab a spoon out of the drawer and have one plopped into your hand instead. “Jesus Christ!” You hiss, snatching your hand away and just barely managing not to drop the flatware.

The snickering giggle from your right isn’t Santi’s.

“Frankie!” You almost shriek, face splitting into an immediate smile and throwing your arms around his neck without a second lost.

“Shh! Shhhh, love.” Frankie wraps his arms tight around your waist, breathing in the faded strains of your expensive perfume. “Santi’s sleeping.”

“I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow?” You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, smiling against his skin. He’s already stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers from whatever he’d put on that morning and he looks good enough to eat. Damn the chili, Frankie is a whole three course meal in his own right.

“I rescheduled for an earlier flight.” It sounds almost confessional, the way he quietly whispers in your ear. “I missed you.”

“Mmm,” The hum comes up from the back of your throat. “We missed you, too.”

“Is that why you have the world’s largest and saddest margarita in that glass?” Frankie smirks, raising one eyebrow at the glass on the counter next to your bowl. That awful sugary bottled cocktail mix only sneaks its way into your home when Frankie is away. As a former bartender he finds it fully offensive, but he knows you like sticky sweet drinks.

“Give me a break,” you beg, pouting fiercely. This is why you were having such a big drink tonight – not only because of the day you’d had at work but to empty the bottle before his return. “I had four meetings today, I earned this sugary tequila.”

Frankie knows how hard you work, constantly proving yourself day-in and day-out in an office full of men where you are the best educated in the room but always last to get a new client. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m only teasing.” He plies you with a soft kiss, letting it deepen when you sigh to let him in. Your reunions are like this more often than not now, after almost a decade together. In the beginning you would be fucking against a wall within minutes of the door closing, so desperate to feel each other’s touch again after a business trip or other time away that you had ruined a fair few pieces of clothing in moments of enthusiasm.

Now you linger together and let yourselves melt into each other, usually ending up going to bed early with a bottle of wine. When Santi had become a part of your romantic lives, you had become oddly more domestic, but you all quietly agreed that that was due to age and not a loss of passion. In fact, the only odd thing about it was that it had taken so long. For as close as Frankie and Santi had always been, it had taken the three of you going camping for a long weekend for something to finally happen.

Soft became sensual becomes hungry, and proof of that passion shows itself in you shoving Frankie’s hips against the kitchen counter so you can drop to your knees in front of him in synchrony with his boxers hitting the tiled floor.

“Goddamn.” Frankie’s long, thick fingers flex insistently against the base of your skull, not scratching or pulling, but encouraging as he drinks in the sight of you in the glowing shadow of the flickering living room television.

You have only gotten more gorgeous as you’ve gotten older, growing from an adorable little imp to an elegant and confident woman who owns her curves instead of hiding them. He’s always loved your body in every form, but he loves even more the way you’ve come to love yourself. With that confidence in yourself had come even more confidence as a lover – and he is more than okay with that. He simply wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t show you the vocal appreciation he has for your skills with your tongue. “Fuck, baby girl,” he moans, humming so deeply that he practically purrs.

“You know he’s just going to keep taking more out of town jobs if this is how he gets greeted at home.” Santi’s sleep-thick voice joins the rather obscene sound of your mouth leaving Frankie’s cock and your eyes flick up to Santi with an amused glint.

“Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t give him the same hello?” You tease. These men always make you smile. And moan. They always make you moan.

“Of course not.” Santi’s hand goes to his chest in mock affront before he leans down to nip at your bottom lip. “I gave him a good fuck in the shower. Obviously.”

“And I’m the one who’s spoiling him?” On your knees with Frankie’s length in one hand, you reach for the waistband of Santi’s joggers with the other and feel your smile go lopsided as your eyes grow darker. “I’ll spoil both of you, then.”

“Didn’t mean to wake you up.” Frankie apologizes by pulling Santi in close, untangling one of his hands from your hair only to catch it up in the other man’s equally thick locks as they come together in a kiss. You’ll lavish them with attention here and then they will bring you to bed where they have space to work over every inch of you – the three of you falling asleep in a sweaty pile of satisfied partners.

When Santi had joined your family, you and Frankie had become a little more domestic. You had found the piece of your marriage that you hadn’t known was missing in a clever, loving third partner, and now you can’t imagine your lives without him.

______

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oxyvouge · 8 months

Text

ੈ never have i ever kissed you. ✩‧₊˚

summary: wherein you, the marauders, lily, marlene and regulus played the muggle game "Never Have I Ever."

━━ ✦ pairing(s): marauders, lily, marlene and regulus x fem! reader

━━ ✦ warning: kissing

━━ ✦ word count: 1.3k

author's note: lets just pretend they have a high tolerance or theyre a lil affected by it cuz i forgot to write it down there 😭. btw sirius and reggie r on good terms here and also — ITS DANE DEEHAN'S PETER AND I CANNOT NOT ADD HIM WHEN HE'S HOT 😭😭😭😭

THE MARAUDERS, a few other friends, and you gathered in the common room, forming a circle for a muggle game Lily called "Never Have I Ever." The concept piqued your interest; it was something entirely new to you and sounded like you would have a good time especially when you heard how the game works.

But before that you, Sirius, Peter, and Lily went to the kitchens to take some snacks, glasses, and a few bottles of firewhisky for this and went back to the common room where the others were waiting and circled.

Lily initiated the round, her eyes scanning each person in the circle. "Never have I ever," she began, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "tasted the poop flavor in Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans." Laughter erupted as James, Remus, and a few others reached for the firewhisky and took a drink. Sirius and you couldn't help but burst into laughter too, sympathizing with their unfortunate experiences.

"It was bloody awful! Feels like I was gobbling up Pads' poop by mistake." James wrinkled his nose, wincing as the firewhisky blazed its way down his throat. Sirius burst into laughter, but his chuckles abruptly halted as James' comment hit his ears and you choked on your saliva. With a flushed face, Sirius playfully smacked James on the back, eliciting a groan from him. "Fuck."

The empty glasses clinked as they were refilled, the game continuing with fervor. Seated next to Lily, Marlene was thinking of what to ask. "Never have I ever lost my chocolate frog and found it in front of a teacher." Peter drank his firewhisky.

"I remember this!" You exclaimed with a chuckle, clutching a treacle tart. "Peter lost his chocolate frog while going inside the castle from Hogsmeade and tried to go after it only for it to end up in Professor McGonagall's palms. Then, she gave it to Peter and Peter ate it after brushing the dirt away."

Remus took his turn, a playful glint in his eyes. "Never have I ever been caught by Filch while out of bed after curfew." The Marauders, excluding Remus and including you, raised their glasses to their lips, taking hearty swigs of firewhisky.

Lily's eyebrows arched curiously, her gaze shifting toward you. "Even you, Y/N?" You shrugged with a sheepish grin, caught in the act. "What were you up to?"

You intended to avoid the question, but Marlene piped up, unable to resist the urge to share, "Oh, it's either she's setting up pranks with them," She gestured towards the infamous Black and Potter duo, who responded with knowing smirks, "Or she's engaged in some secret snogging rendezvous with Black."

"Which Black are we talking about here?" You countered mischievously, casting an amused glance at both brothers.

"Both," Marlene replied with an air of nonchalance, earning a round of chuckles from the group, a coughing Regulus, and a shock i-don't-know-what-to-say-i-feel-betrayed Sirius.

The blonde female had frequently stumbled upon them in rather compromising situations. On various occasions, it happened to be you and Regulus emerging from a cupboard, catching Marlene on her way to class. The sight of you and the younger boy with tousled hair, swollen lips, and flushed cheeks was hard to miss. Marlene also vividly remembered the time she stumbled upon you and Sirius, who were well on their way to shagging, both only partially clothed and entangled on the bed. Fortunately — for Marlene's case — she barged in before all the rest of their garments were thrown on the floor and preventing further embarrassment.

Honestly, who could really blame her? It wasn't her decision to conduct such activities within a shared dorm room, where other roommates also resided.

Marlene's cheeks heated as memories replayed in her mind. She shook her head, murmuring, "It's a traumatic experience."

Seated between you and Remus, Sirius wore a knowing smirk, mischief glinting in his eyes. Your heart fluttered as you felt a tinge of nervousness, his transparent mischievousness making you uneasy. "Never…" He began, his words causing a slight stumble in your breath as he continued, "have I ever kissed Y/N." Once more, you found yourself momentarily taken aback, a surprised reaction escaping you.

Sirius' gaze swept across the group, his smirk growing as he met each person's eyes, enjoying their reactions. With a feeling of delightfulness, he snatched the bottle of firewhisky and took a victorious swig. Nearby, Regulus raised an eyebrow, his amusement detached yet evident, as he took a casual sip of his own firewhisky. "Just u—" He began, his sentence left hanging in the air, a smirk curving his lips.

Lily roll her eyes and playfully retort, "Trying to embarrass everyone now, are we? Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Cheers to your boldness, I suppose." She then took a sip of her firewhisky, shaking her head with a mix of amusement and annoyance at Sirius' antics.

"Wait a second — everyone?" Sirius exclaimed, his tone a mix of disbelief and amusement. Marlene couldn't contain herself and erupted into laughter, finding the situation utterly comical. With a gleeful grin, she grabbed the firewhisky and took a big gulp. "Even McKinnon? Seriously, Y/N, how did you do it?" Sirius continued, his smirk growing wider.

Observing the scene, Remus couldn't help but roll his eyes playfully, his expression a blend of exasperation and fondness. He reached for his firewhisky and took a measured sip, his gaze briefly locking with yours.

You nonchalantly replied. "She was asking me to teach her how to kiss — who am I to refuse?" Peter let out a nervous chuckle and take a small sip of firewhisky.

As Sirius noticed the sip Peter took, his eyebrows arched mischievously. He glanced at you and exchanged an amused look with Lily. Lily, her curiosity piqued, raised an eyebrow and inquired, "Even Peter?" Her surprise was evident, the corners of her lips twitching in a mixture of astonishment and amusement.

All eyes turned to James, who met their gaze with an intrigued quirk of his eyebrow. His gaze then shifted to you, his lips curling into a mischievous grin as he leaned back in his chair. "Looks like I've fallen a bit behind, haven't I?" he mused, a glint of determination lighting up his eyes.

In a flash, he rose from his seat, a confident swagger in his step as he dropped down to one knee in front of you. His presence felt magnetic as he leaned closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek, and before you could fully process the moment, his lips met yours in a quick, playful kiss.

The room was filled with a collective gasp as all eyes turned to both of you as James pulled back, a triumphant smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. James then took the bottle of firewhisky from Sirius and chugged the remaining liquid down.

A mixture of shock, amusement, and admiration swept across their faces. Lily's jaw dropped slightly and twitching into an amused smile. Remus's eyebrows shot up, his usual composed demeanor momentarily replaced by astonishment. Sirius's playful grin widened into genuine surprise, and even Peter seemed momentarily stunned, his mouth hanging open. Marlene let out an excited whoop, her surprise quickly turning into enthusiastic cheers. Regulus raised an eyebrow, a subtle flicker of being taken aback swept across his features.

James' smirk softened into a warm grin as he glanced at you, his eyes locking onto yours for a heartbeat before he turned back to the others. "Honestly, Prongs." You stated recovering from your surprised state with a fond smile tugging on your lips.

A mischievous glint danced in Marlene's eyes as she playfully nudged Sirius with her elbow. "Seems like you're not the only one stealing the show tonight, Black."

A warm chuckle rumbled from Remus as he shook his head, a genuine fondness reflecting in his gaze. "You've outdone yourself, Prongs."

Even Regulus's typically stoic expression softened, a subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth betraying his amusement. "Quite the move," he conceded.

you can make a request here where you'll be guided by the guidelines and check out the masterlist.

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silent-browser · 11 months

Text

*sigh* oh the tragic romance of a merfolk x human story. Neither can be with the other without giving up something important. Usually fins for legs. Also usually their entire family to simply love and exist with this person in a different biosphere. Rarely legs for fins if we wanna go a reverse little mermaid here.

But what if it was different. And no one had to give everything up. And maybe yandere. With a bit of soulmate shenanigans thrown in for flavor.

Imagine if you will, a walk on an empty beach. Headphones in, listening to your favorite song and sining along. Kicking up sand and the smell of the ocean air. Just minding your own business and having a good time by yourself.

Or so you think. Because not far from where you are walking a single quiet audience member hides behind some rocks, wondering why your song, your human song, sounds so similar to their soul song.

The song that they would normally perform for other merfolk in hopes of attracting their perfect life partner. But they had never garnered any attention for it.

So how did you, a weak and squishy human get them so immediately. No creature had ever been so close to repeating his own soul song back to him. And with your own little twist too. Human words and slightly different notes in his soul song. Your song. Our song. He soon found himself refering to it in his mind.

It takes a while of them impatiently waiting for your return and slowly learning your 'walks on the beach' schedule for them to finally make their move.

On the day that changed the rest of your life, you were simply walking along and humming softly to your favorite song once again when you heard the most fantastic voice start to follow along the melody with you. They matched your tone and moved their voice in such a way that it felt like an instant musical connection.

They were worried that you would stop and run away when they started but tried not to let that fear taint their song. If you ran further inland they would have a very hard time following you. Not impossible but certainly difficult. So they took your continued humming as a good sign and continued.

They began to dribble their emotions into the notes. The lonelyness. The fear of an uncaring ocean. The rush of affection they felt when they first heard you singing. The need to see you. Hold you.

Slowly, what started out as a dribble became a riptide of intense emotions they never knew they were capable of feeling. Longing. Jealousy. Want and need so powerful he felt like he would wear out his voice singing it all. By the time he stopped he was mortified that he put all of that on you. And before the first courting gift too! He suddenly felt awful. He gutted his soul when he never ment to and you weren't even singing anymore. What if you didn't want them? What if it was all too much for you? What if you left and never came back!?

You were stunned. Breathless. The emotion. The raw intensity. No words were ever sang and yet the song resonated in the very depths of your being. You felt intimidated to ever even think of humming ever again after that impromptu masterpiece. You wanted to respond but couldn't find the words to, much less the notes like they had. So you instead made your way to the shore where the music seemed to come from and searched. Looking for this person who simultaneously swept you off your feet and explained their life story in one song with no words.

Two star crossed lovers. Separated by the sea. One filled with obsession. The other with curiousity. Both wish desperately to meet and yet both are not quite ready. How strange that love can both bind and seperate. How strange indeed.

Idk where to go with this so no continuations for this one unless I suddenly get inspired. Also the end feels really jarring to me. Mostly because I originally intended for this to continue but I couldn't come up with anything so I just cut it lose. I hope you like it none the less.

#soft yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #merfolk #merfolk x reader #yandere merfolk #yandere merman #merman x reader #came up with the idea while listening to shinunoga E-wa #siren bullshittery #siren x reader #male siren x reader #yandere siren x reader #yandere siren #soulmates #but through song #because siren #gn reader #siren switchs between he/him and they/them so often

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ofstarsandvibranium · 6 months

Text

Seven: Thursday

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Moon Boys x F!Reader

Summary: You’re a workaholic, but now that you’re on a week’s vacation, your lives are going to take FULL advantage of your presence aka the Moon Boys keep you in bed for a whole week.

Warning: smut - semi-public, teasing (reader's a little bratty in this one), a little bit of dom/sub tones, grinding, p in v

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You've finally allowed your loves to take you outside of your shared apartment.

"Just a few hours outside, honey. Get some vitamin D."

You smirked at Marc as he led you outside, "Oh, I think I've been getting more than enough D, Marc."

He playfully rolled his eyes at you as he wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your temple, murmuring, "Behave."

"Or what? I'll get a spanking? Don't threaten me with a good time, Spector."

Marc groaned, "You're going to be insufferable, aren't you?"

You shrugged, "This is what happens when you make me go outside instead, we could be inside going at it like rabbits. But whatever."

______________

Marc brought you to a new cafe that opened up a few blocks from the apartment. You'd seen it passing by at one point, but never had the time to check it out. Since you're not working for the week, this was the perfect opportunity.

He ordered himself a sandwich and you a panini and a strawberry cake. Your usual drink of choice, but with a flavored syrup that they had available.

You and Marc now sit in the back corner, away from the rest of the cafe patrons.

Marc watches as you sip your drinking, testing the flavors. You nod, approving of its taste, "I like it!" you slide your drink across to Marc and he takes a sip. He nods like you and murmurs, "Good."

You then take a bite out of your panini, giving the most sinful moan. Marc, sipping from his own drink, starts to loudly cough to cover your sounds.

Oh, she's going to be trouble today, it seems, Steven says to Marc.

You smirk at him while you chew your food and he frowns at you, "Baby?"

"Hm?"

"What're you doing?"

"Eating. This is a really good panini, hon. Try it," you hold it out to him and he shake his head, "I'm good."

With eyes like a hawk, Marc watches as you continue to eat your food. When you go to drink your beverage, you "accidentally" spill some on you. The liquid falling down your cleavage.

"Whoops!" You pull down your shirt a little more to show more of your breasts to Marc, "Silly me," you say as you wipe yourself down.

Marc sighs and runs a hand down his face, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching you, "Really? We're going to do this?"

I think you are, Marc, Steven snickers.

You 'innocently' bat your eyes at your love, "Doing what, hon? I'm just eating. Can't help it if I'm a bit clumsy."

"You're being a brat," he states.

You smirk at him, propping your arm on the table and resting your cheek against his hand, "What're you gonna do about it?"

If that's how you're gonna play, then two can play at that game. He smirks back and shrugs, "Nothin'." He goes to eat his sandwich and you pout a little, hoping to get a rise out of him.

Aw, she's so cute when she pouts!

Stop it, Steven. We're not falling for it! Marc mentally scolds his alter.

_______________

After brunch, you and Marc stepped onto the bus to take you further into the city where you two would walk around and maybe head into some shops.

The bus was surprisingly crowded for a weekday, so you and Marc were huddled into a corner. Marc's back to the wall of the bus, you standing in front of him. An idea popped into your head and you 'stumble' back against Marc. His hands go to your waist and he murmurs, "You okay?"

You smile over your shoulder, "Perfect." You don't step forward, rather you press yourself up more against Marc and start grinding on him a bit. You didn't want to make it obvious to the other passengers though.

Marc knew what you were doing. His nails digging into your waist and he leans forward, lips against your ear, "Princess, you better behave. I mean it, or you won't get anything at all today."

Maybe we can-

No, Steven.

You sigh in defeat and step forward to create some distance, but you're pulled back by Marc. He murmurs to you, "Oh no. You stay here, don't need everyone to see my hard on that you caused."

You giggle, but then gasp when Marc pinches your side.

_______________

Marc's arm is around your shoulders as you both walk down the streets of London. Tourists and locals alike pass you, minding their business or taking in the sights and sounds.

You then spot a boutique and you're pulling Marc inside before he can do anything.

"Wha-hm."

You smile at him, "I just want to look around," you say as you run your fingers along a scantily mannequin, red lace covering very little of it.

Marc clenches his jaw, "Sure you are."

He follows you around, not making any indication if he sees something he'd very much like to rip off you.

You rush over, picking up a black barely-there open cup crotchless teddy, "Do you think Steven would like this?"

Bloody hell. That's practically nothing. Steven says in Marc's head.

You grab another, a very strappy, open cup and crotchless teddy, "Can you see what he thinks of this one?"

Marc stares at you intently, eyes not blinking until suddenly he shakes his head and looks around, "Wha-oh."

You smile gleefully at Steven, "Hi, lovey." You place the sets onto a rack and wrap your arms around him, pressing your lips to his.

Steven pulls away and gives you a stern look, "Now, lovey, I know what you're doing."

"I'm not doing anything, Steven," you say nonchalantly, going back to the pieces you pulled, "I wasn't serious about this pieces, by the way. Maybe we can find something you do like."

Steven gulps and nods, "Y-Yeah, Sure, love."

He follows you around, either giving you a yes or a no on different items that catch your eye. You end up with a good amount, bringing them and Steven with you to the dressing room. He sits on the bench while you try each of them on.

You try on the most modest of the bunch, moving towards the more revealing ones. You did this on purpose, of course, hoping that, with each one, you'd rile Steven up more and more.

You knew you were successful too from the way that Steven's hands were covering his crotch. He was fidgeting in his seat.

"I think this one is it," you say, modeling the white floral teddy. It oozed a sense of innocence and sensuality.

"Bloody hell," Steven groans, wiping his now damp forehead.

You dressed back into your clothes, but before stepping out, you fall to your knees in front of Steven, hands running up his thighs, "Do you need help with that, Steven?" you nod to his crotch.

"We shouldn't, especially since Marc-"

"Marc's not in control right now. You are," your hands inch up towards the tent in Steven's pants, "So, I ask again, do you need help with that?"

Steven mindlessly nods and you immediately work on undoing his jeans, bringing him out of his boxers and pumping his length up and down.

"Fu-" you slap your hand over his mouth.

"Don't want to get caught, do we?" he shakes his head, "Good."

You continue to jerk him off and his chest heaves with every breath. You take off your own pants and underwear, straddling his lap. His eyes widen and you immediately say, "I think this will both help us, don't you think?"

You grind yourself down onto his length and Steven's head fall back, bumping against the wall of the fitting room. He immediately sits up and you bury your face in his neck, giggling, "Careful, lovey."

You move your hips, running your slit along Steven's length. Steven's biting his lip hard, keeping himself from moaning. He pulls you closer to him, mouth going to your shoulder so he can bite down.

You hiss at the pain, but you also find it pleasurable. You continue to move, teasing yourself and Steven as you start to have his cock nudge your entrance.

"Fuck me, Steven. Please? I need you so bad?" you whimper in his ear.

Steven looks to the mirror and see Marc shaking his head, disappointed in his alter's weak resolve.

Don't.

Steven immediately ignores Marc, taking himself in his hand and lowers you onto him.

You moan into his shirt, hoping the music playing within the store is loud enough to hide your sounds of pleasure.

You move slow against Steven, not wanting to make the room shake or creak to reveal what you two are doing.

"So beautiful, lovey. So sweet for thinking of me. Looked so gorgeous."

"Steven," you quietly whine his name.

"Marc's so upset with us," he says with a chuckle, "We're definitely in for it."

"Don't care. He was being mean," you say in pants, still riding Steven in a slow pace.

"If I recall, you were also being a cheeky thing, weren't you?"

You giggle, "Maybe."

"Shit, right there," Steven gasps, "Please tell me you're close?"

You nod, desperate for finally having some release since Marc had denied you earlier. You reach down, rubbing at your clit for more pleasure, "Fuck, yes. So close."

"That's it, lovey. Good girl. Give it to me," Steven begs, his hands gripping you like his life depended on it.

"Shit," you gasp, cumming as you continue to ride Steven.

"Right there, right there. Oh fuck, Y/N," Steven groans, cumming with you. You continue to move, helping you both through your orgasm.

Your movements still, leaving you and Steven breathing hard. You lean back to get a look at his face. It's damp and slightly red. Your chuckle and peck his lips.

You slowly climb off him, grabbing your pants and underwear, sliding them on.

You grab the last set you tried on and watch with a grin as Steven stands, tucking himself back in, and zipping up his pants.

He approaches you, hands grabbing your face and pressing a kiss to your lips with more love and less lust.

Against your lips, he murmurs, "Marc says you're in trouble."

You snicker, "Trouble is my middle name," you reply with a wink and step out of the fitting room to purchase your new set.

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon boys x reader #moon knight x reader #fem!reader #f!reader #smut

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heycarrots · 1 month

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There’s been a lot of discourse about the nature of James and Miranda’s relationship. There’s even been a lot of discussion on my podcast about it. One thing I want to make clear is that my podcast is a platform for discussion on all points of view. I’m not going to agree, 100%, with everything that’s said, but it makes the views of my guests no less valid. There’s no right or wrong, here, because this is art and therefore, it is subject to interpretation.

My intent, however, is to attempt to get as close to the original intent of the actors as possible because we look at a show or a film or a play as going through several layers of distillation. Each level purifies the intended narrative leaving its truest essence.

When we make a reduction sauce using an alcohol of some kind, let’s say a red wine, the heat applied to it burns off things we don’t need for flavor. You’re never going to get drunk off of red wine reduction because there’s almost no alcohol left in it. That all gets burned off, leaving only the flavor components, which is what we wanted all along, anyway. We want that extra element that enriches the flavor of the steak, by adding nuance.

So let’s take apart that meal.

We start with the birth of the idea. The story kicks around in an author’s head, trying to get out, growing bigger and more persistent until it outgrows the confines of the mental box inspiration is stored in and has to be let out. That idea, that’s the cow.

The author raises that idea, feeds it, watches it grow, and then, ultimately slaughters it. That sounds awful, but once you have that idea pulsing, growing, evolving and then finally commit the final draft on paper, it is a kind of death. The life of the story comes to an end and it becomes memorialized in a mausoleum. Readers will come to visit, spend time with it, lay down flowers, cherish it, and mourn its passing.

The next level is adaptation. That’s the steak. There are many ways you can slice the story, large roasts encompassing the whole story or a smaller, hyper-focused character study fillet mignon.

A writers room gets hold of the cow and carves it up. They choose what gets cooked and what gets tossed. A GREAT group of writers saves the bones. They take in the entire supporting structure of the piece and while the whole story may not make it onto the screen, they will have slow roasted the bones for a stock. When you watch a show like Black Sails, where themes are introduced that won’t fully be explained or explored until several seasons later, that’s what that is. It is the stock being used to flavor the whole dish. You’ve distilled the entire cow to its purest essence and so every scene, every line of dialogue, every acting choice, encompasses the entirety of the story. A line from episode one is defined by knowledge of the finale and in regard to dialogue, defined by an actors’ knowledge of a character’s backstory. There are many writers rooms who are creating the bones of the story as they go, which means they aren’t starting with a rich stock. You can’t trace back character motivations or choices to begin with because those motivations changed throughout production.

Black Sails, again, isn’t one of those shows. Steinberg and Levine came into the writers room with their stock pot full and sloshing, spilling story everywhere. The richness of the details they were laying can make season one a bit hard to consume unless you are ready for a story on that level. Viewers need to come to the table with some bread to sop up all those character details because we WILL need them later.

Over the course of finalizing scripts and blocking out episodes, the steak is cooked. Like any great steak, this story is medium rare. More juice comes out with every bite. It’s what makes the show infinitely rewatchable. It continues to cook on the plate, but because it wasn’t overdone, it never dries out.

When the actors get ahold of it, that’s the reduction sauce we were talking about. That sauce provides nuance and flavor. That’s the emotion. A line of dialogue on a page is just ink. It’s nothing until it’s spoken aloud. And like any bit of language in this world, it’s subject to interpretation. In this case, it’s the actor who does the interpreting.

I spoke on the podcast about the art of subtext and how huge a role it plays in Black Sails. One example we used is Jane Eyre. It’s one of the most frequently adapted novels in the English language and with each adaptation, we get a new version of our characters. The most volatile and subject to change is Rochester. There are MANY versions of Rochester that I find appalling (including the original beast in the book), but each actor has formed him into something else, based on their performance. Toby Stephens takes Rochester and turns him into a silly tragic romantic, broken many times over by a society he never really fits into, despite the status of his birth. He connects with Ruth Wilson’s Jane because she fully and happily inhabits that space on the fringes that Rochester thinks he needs to climb out of. Jane takes his hand on the outside of the wall, turns him away from the guarded palace and shows him the wild world that was at his back this whole time.

This is what Toby Stephens, Luke Arnold, Louise Barnes, Zethu Dlomo, and really all the actors for whom their subtextual choices make them reflect like prisms, have done with their performances.

In the final distillation, character motivations and emotions are finalized by the actor. Writers can pontificate, the source material lies dead in its lovely tomb, but stories live and breathe by their storytellers.

What we’re left with is Toby’s face telling the world how deeply Flint loves Silver. Every single choice tells this story.

We’re left with Luke showing us how much Silver is repressing in his feelings for Flint. Luke’s face shows us an incredible depth of feeling and a door slamming shut.

We’re left with the incredible intimacy between James and Miranda, which speaks of a decade of shared physical intimacy. There’s an openness, a freeness to it until the moment in episode 3 when Miranda learns that James has found the Urca and is leaving soon to pursue it. She gives some of it away when she says “I thought I’d have you all to myself”. She is mourning the loss of intimacy that she only gets in short windows of time. They aren’t strained because James isn’t attracted to her, but because he’s rarely there. She has him for a few days at a time before he’s off on another hunt. The coldness starts from the moment he tells her he’s leaving in a few days because I believe she thinks he won’t be coming back, that this is the hunt he won’t survive and she’ll finally have lost both James and Thomas. From the moment Richard Guthrie darkens her door, she’s looking for a way to weaponize him and get them out. For her, it’s a race against the clock and she’s willing to sacrifice a bit of her relationship with James in the present to secure happiness for them in the future.

This is also why James still has sex with her before leaving, even though he’s furious for her reading Meditations to Richard. This is how they connect. They connected through physical intimacy in the flashbacks, as well. Him stroking her thumb in the carriage before the kiss. Tactile contact to seal their understanding of each other. Miranda bracing her hands on his chest during important moments in the Hamilton’s home, something she also does to Thomas, to show physical connection, physical intimacy. Miranda thrives on physical touch.

To think that, for 10 years, James is lying there like an object for Miranda to use, is, to me, short sighted. To think that James doesn’t love Miranda outside of a group, is also ignoring the fact that, 10 years on, James will not leave on a hunt (angry as they both are) without physically connecting with her, trying so hard to reach beyond his anger and the wound freshly opened from sight of that book he’s chosen not to look at for probably the better part of those 10 years. The way his hands hover over her back after she comes and he desperately wants to be with her in that moment, like the best of their moments, but he just can’t, speaks to the depth of his love for her.

So many fans of the show point to this sad sex scene as one of the most important character moments for James and Miranda, but I consistently come to the opposite conclusions about WHY it’s important and what we learn from it, because I’m taking my cues from the actor’s choices, not the director or the writers. On the page, in plain ink, he hates having sex with her. Toby and Louise show us, however, that they are trying to recapture a thing that is fleeting, reaching out to each other to patch up an old wound from which the scab has been picked off, leaving it seeping and raw.

From Toby’s performance, regardless of the words he uses years later to describe it, we see not a character who “loves men” or a character who “loves women”, but a character who LOVES. I don’t see Flint defining that love in terms of boxes and parameters. He’s a character who must be coaxed out, but then loves without reason, without a safety net, as he proves with his love of Silver. As was also referenced by a guest on the podcast, he places a sword in Silver’s hand and says “do it”.

Anyway, this post got away from me and took several turns, but the love between James and Miranda being dismissed by so many in the fandom has been bugging me for a while and I just needed to emotionally vomit on tumblr.

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bg-brainrot · 5 months

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Day four of Astarion x Rogue!Tav winter fluff for the BG3 Winter Holiday Challenge!

Prompt: Mulled Wine

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Premise: Astarion walks into you making mulled wine. He doesn’t understand why you must ruin wine for the sake of winter. When he refuses to see your point, you find another way to show him.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Holidays, Alcohol, Kisses, post-cannon

Word count: ~1k

“Darling, what are you doing to that red wine?” Astarion walks into the kitchen, turning his nose up at the concoction you’re stirring.

“I’m making mulled wine,” you say, turning to smile at him. “What do you think I’m doing?”

He gives a single sniff and turns his lips down into a grimace. “My nose tells me that you’re ruining a perfectly good bottle of wine.” You drop the smile and give him a glare.

“What do you mean ruining?” you ask, incredulous. “I’m following the instructions that Gale gave me to the letter. Though I guess I am skipping over some of his longer-winded tangents…” A quick glance over at the notes on the counter confirms your accuracy.

The vampire shakes his head at you and walks up to the stove where you’re still stirring. “I have no doubt that you’re executing it perfectly, dear. You’ve made poisons that require more finesse than this. However, adding all of those spices– and oranges? What was wrong with the original wine?”

“Nothing was wrong. I just wanted to make something seasonal,” you say, feeling the need to defend your creation. You look down at your mixture, at the various pieces of seasonal flavors swirling as you stir, and you’re almost positive that it will taste perfect on a cold winter’s day like today.

“Why not a nice buttered rum? I don’t mind if you torment the rum.”

You roll your eyes at this, knowing full well now that this line of questioning was meant to be entertainment for Astarion. He was likely just bored and wondering why you were spending so much time in the kitchen. “I don’t want buttered rum. Why are you so against mulled wine– when was the last time you even had mulled wine?”

A moment of silence passes between you, and you turn away from your pot to look at him, suddenly fearful that you accidentally struck a nerve you hadn’t meant to. However, he just looks pensive, a single finger tapping his chin thoughtfully. When his answer finally comes, he just says it with a sense of awe, “You know, it’s likely been over 200 years.”

“Oh,” you respond, pursing your lips. You gesture at him with the spoon you’re holding. “Maybe it would be like a brand new experience?”

“It could be,” he responds, and while there’s some hesitation to his tone, he does sound more amenable to the idea now. He wafts the steam from the pot toward his nose, as if a better sniff might change his mind. Instead your lover physically recoils and places a hand over his face. “Gods, what are these spices?”

“Let’s see... cardamom, cinnamon, and star anise,” you recite, looking back at the paper Gale wrote you.

Your lover makes a face at you before he chokes out, “Star anise? That’s where the pungent smell is coming from. Darling, as the resident connoisseur of scents, you should have asked me for your spices.”

“Ah,” you breathe out, understanding dawning on you. You point the spoon at him excitedly, “I got it!”

“Got what?” he says, staring at you blankly. You can feel his assurance in your ability to make mulled wine deteriorating by the second. No matter– you know how to fix this.

Scooping up a bit of your brew in the stirring spoon, you blow gently on it to cool it down and hold it out to him. “Try it.”

“Oh no,” he immediately says, taking a step back. “I refuse to be your test subject.”

“Fine then, let me try it first.” You sip the mulled wine out of the spoon, savoring it on your tongue. It’s sweet, it’s spiced, and it tastes just like cozying up to a fireplace– your face breaks into a wide grin at its rich flavor. As you suspected, the star anise only gives it a subtle note, none of that strong licorice smell it typically has. Astarion wouldn't remember that after hundreds of years away from drinks like this. “Mmm, it’s perfect.”

Astarion looks at you for a second, as if waiting for your composure to crack, your body to convulse with disgust. When nothing happens, he only asks, “What does it taste like?”

“Would you like to try it?” You’re beaming at him now, absolutely certain that this will change his mind about mulled wine.

He still seems cautious, probably wondering if this is all some ruse devised by you and Gale.

Sensing his worries, you scoop another spoonful for yourself, take a drink, and close the distance between you. “Mmm mm,” you say to him, behind closed lips.

“What?” the man asks, raising a single eyebrow at you.

“Mmm mm!” you repeat, pointing to your lips, which you’re emphatically puckering at him.

Your request clicks in his head a moment later and he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “My love, have I told you that you’re utterly ridiculous lately? Because I feel like you’re overdue.” Nevertheless, he takes a step forward, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you close as he meets your pursed lips with his.

The kiss, much like the mulled wine, starts off sweet but quickly comes with a kick of spice. Astarion’s tongue traces your bottom lip and you open your mouth to allow him in. One of his hands finds your face and angles it to deepen the kiss, locking his mouth with yours to try to keep the wine from spilling.

You feel a few trickles of liquid fall down your chin, but you find that you don’t mind– in fact, the only thing on your mind is the way Astarion’s tongue is relishing the mulled wine. The vampire gives a low hum as his tongue circles yours, tasting the liquid fully. He has yet to run away in revulsion, so you’re pretty sure he likes it. Or at the very least likes kissing you.

When he finally pulls away, a bit short of breath, his lips stained with wine, he gives you a smirk. “I think I finally understand the appeal of mulled wine.”

“So does that mean you liked it?” you ask him, equally breathless.

Astarion swipes his thumb down your chin, wiping away the wine that dribbled down before bringing it to mouth. He gives you a dark, lidded look as he licks it off and gives a rumbling hmm. “I’m not sure yet. You’ll have to give me another taste.”

It’s slow going, but you enthusiastically ensure that your lover gets his fill of mulled wine.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #rogue + rogue #astarion x reader #bg3holidayfluffle23

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btnclmrttn · 7 months

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01. Blowjob (L Lawliet x Reader)

((CW: +18, oral [m.receiving], L's switchy but subs for this, nothing crazy freaky just sucking dick tbh))

(L has been having a difficult time keeping himself in check around you as of late. It hasn't gone unnoticed on your behalf. The curious questions, the rather close proximity, the "accidental" brushing against you that somehow remains consistent. You've decided to get back at L's pervert antics when everyone leaves the office for the day)

💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡

“Are you…” L stops himself from asking his question. A stupid question. He can see exactly what’s going on.

L stares in absolute awe at the display in front of him. He watches you lower to your knees right in front of his desk, the glow from the screens barely illuminating your face.

"You're acting surprised?" you ask, "After what you've been doing the past few days with me?"

He blinks a few times as he stares down, registering the situation that's unfolding in front of him. Slowly and silently, he repositions himself to a somewhat normal sitting position, yet remains slouched still. You pull his chair closer to you, slide your hands up his thighs that spread apart on their own. Not a word of protest utters from his mouth as you're unbuttoning his pants. He watches you with interest, with a shade of red darkening his pale face, yet his attention keeps drifting between the cameras and your eyes.

You run your hand along the fabric over his half-hardened cock, taking it in your fingers and slowly stroking it, feeling it twitch under your touch. L swallows audibly, barely catching your gaze again while he watches the cameras. A tingling sensation begins taking over his whole body. The excitement of where this is heading is stealing more and more of his attention by the second.

"You’re d-distracting me, ____," he mumbles, though it doesn't sound anything like a complaint. His breathing is getting more ragged with each little teasing stroke of his growing length. One of his hands lowers to his thigh next to your free one while the other remains on the arm of the chair.

His focus breaks again when the fabric of his boxers is tugged away, exposing his hardened cock for you. You pull your hand back from his shaft to his inner thigh to instead use your tongue. A deeper sigh escapes L’s throat when you start to trace your lips against his veiny member. You leave a trail of light kisses before going in with flattened tongue from the base of his shaft all the way to the tip. The salty beads of his precum spread its flavor across your wet tongue, more so when you start kissing and sucking on his tip.

L continues to attempt to monitor the cameras, failing focus every now and then to catch your lidded gaze. He's enamoured with how you look under him in his dim lighting, with your pretty lips latched around the tip of his dick, teasing him. His hand on his thigh shifts, tracing your soft fingers gently before lacing them with his own.

You start to take in more of him. You fill your mouth with him almost greedily. L's back straightened a bit as he hissed through his teeth in a deep breath. The tip of his cock is now grazing the back of your throat, making you gag a bit, but not enough to make you take less. His full attention shifts to you, wide eyes locked on to yours while his face only gets brighter in color. L can't resist this display for the life of him anymore. He squeezes your hand tighter, while his other hand grips onto the arm of the chair. Your own free hand massages his inner thigh, the thumb lightly massaging his sack in circles through his boxers.

L's stomach trembles with his breathing when you draw back on his cock, making a pop sound. You spit what's in your mouth on the tip.

"You like this?" you ask, a smile creeping on your face when fully seeing his baffled look.

He takes in a shaky breath, "...Please keep going..."

The trembling hand that held your own shifts closer. The tips of his fingers barely graze your hair, tracing along it to your cheek before wrapping around the back of your head with a guidance back down. It encourages a slightly quicker rhythm. Your now free hand wraps around the base of his cock and takes on its own rhythm, your wrist loosely twisting it up and down.

L's head tips back as he gasps under his breath. He shuts his eyes to further drown himself in this pleasure. The occasional smacking sound of wet skin when his tip pops from your mouth mixed with your moaning hypnotizes him. His legs start shaking just a bit more. You catch a glance of his whitening knuckles on the arm of the chair, but the hand on your head remains rather gentle.

"Jus-just a little faster, please..."

You keep your motion, sucking and licking his tip while you pump his cock, but pick up your motion with your hand a bit. You hear your name between L's shaky gasping repeatedly. His hand slides to the top of your head and pushes you down with more urgency.

"O–oh, god-" he whimpers,"I think I'm–mmmh–"

Despite the aching jaw, you push through to follow the encouraged pace. You keep your lips tight around his cock and pump even faster letting his cock ram the back of your throat.

The hand that was gripping the armrest flies up to his mouth to muffle his moans, the other hand shoving your head down and stuffing your throat with his length, making you gag again. The salty taste of his hot seed floods your throat in pulsing loads. It washes across your tongue and back as you continue choking down his dick. What you miss swallowing runs down your bottom lip and chin. You hold his shaking legs as steady as you can while you let him finish out his load in your mouth.

L takes a minute to catch his breath, still moaning a little as you lick up the rest of his cum off his dick. You feel his hand shift from the back of your head around to your cheek. As he looks down at you with heavy eyes, his thumb smears the trail of cum down your chin away.

“You have...surprised me, ____ ….Let me return the favor.”

💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡

(all knowledge of head went out the window as I wrote this stg lmaooo 😭😭😭)

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #death note #l lawliet #l lawliet n/sfw #l lawliet x reader #l lawlight #n/sfw

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glossgojo · 8 months

Text

pretty boy

carmen berzatto x mafia boss reader

excerpt from my full one-shot on ao3

MINORS DNI: violence, carmy cleans up your wounds, AFAB reader, smut, p in v, no protection, cream pie, carmy has to make it fit 😵‍💫, riding, rushed and desperate, all in his tiny office, set in s1

the week was eventful, you had scars to show it. one of your men had gotten out of line, selling drugs on the side to kids and you had to take action, of course with everyone’s approval. since he was part of your family you would deal with it, the guy didn’t take it well even trying to stab you and missing your scalp but grazing it in the process. in the end you had won, the body disposed of in the river as was custom for disgraced members. your body still ached but it didn’t stop you from visiting the beef the day after.

the cut was stitched up, covered in bandage. the members were laying low following the event, there was going to be a meeting to discuss how it could happen. carmy had noticed that the shop was less busy today, the street still safe but no suited men in sight.

and then he saw you walk in, still beautiful as ever but an unmistakable bandage on your forehead and his stomach flipped. without thinking twice he crossed from behind the counter to where you stood, anxiety bubbling up his throat, burning his insides as he spoke up.

“what happened?” his hands were on his hips, he almost looked angry and for some reason it bothered you. his eyes bore down at you, making you grimace.

“i don’t like lying carmy and you’re not gonna like the answer.” you muttered, eyes looking away. this would be it, he’d think you were too much and too scary and cast you away. carmy took in your dejected expression, combed his fingers through his hair and thought about your words before responding.

“fuck fine, but you’re okay right?” you lifted your head, taking in how crystal eyes scanned your face, his tattooed hand leaving his hip and a finger hovering over where your bandage was.

“yeah i’m okay.” you gave him a small smile and it quelled some of the burning in carmy’s gut. he motioned towards an empty booth, he knew how to get rid of the rest of the feeling. he could take care of you the only way he knew how.

“sit let me grab you something to eat.” before you could argue, he was flying back to the kitchen and you were grateful for the lack of patrons. you felt less guilty in stealing his time. maybe ten minutes had passed before a grilled chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and greens were in front of you. steam rose from the food, aroma rising with it and you felt a surge of hunger. carmy took a seat across from you, setting down a glass of water for you as he did.

“you made this?” you were a little bit stunned, not able to remember the last time someone outside of family cooked for you without being paid for it.

“uh huh, try it.” you dug in, grinning and groaning at the flavors on your tongue and carmy was reeling from your reaction. his anxiety was fading away, instead now his blood rushing, he could hear your gleeful sounds.

“this is seriously so good, did you try some?” he shook his head and you just wouldn’t have that. if the table wasn’t so wide you would’ve fed him yourself but instead passed the plate to him. he cut up a piece of chicken and added mashed potatoes before biting down. you watched the fork enter and unabashedly stared at his fingers, they looked so much larger and thicker around the utensil than yours. and the same fingers were moving to cut more pieces, cutting the green beans into chunks before pushing the plate back to you. you watched in awe as he slowly chewed on his bite, trying to figure out why he had just cut your food up for you. did you look helpless? was this the special treatment he was talking about? surely he didn’t see you as a cute little puppy needing affection and care. you were more than that, you had to prove it. you watched him swallow down and then took a bite of your own.

carmy couldn’t help the twitch in his pants when he noticed you suck on the fork a little bit longer than needed as you slid the utensil between your lips. was he imagining things? you finished your food with as much pleasure at the first few bites, never getting tired of the flavors and textures on your tongue. carmy had been watching you, even passing you water when you hadn’t drank it in a while. as he watched you eat, his anxiety was practically washed away and what was left was his stomach coiling in an entirely different way. you dropped your fork after setting it down and swiping it off the table with your sleeve, both of you ducked under to retrieve. you strained your arm to reach the fork and when you came up your forehead grazed the table corner. it wouldn’t have been an issue if not for your wound. almost instantly two things happened, you winced and clutched your forehead and carmy rounded to your side and kneeled in front of you to check your wound.

“lemme see.” his hand covered yours, your eyes shutting in pain as you moved you hand away. carmy sucked in a breath as he saw blood stain the bandage. “i got first aid in my office come with me.” you nodded, he stood up and offered his hand to you. one hand in his, carmy led you to his office. you clutched the damp bandage against your head using your other hand and tried to ignore the throbbing feeling.

carmy sat you down on his desk, shoving away some papers and angling his desk lamp up at your face. the office space was cluttered and small, you felt so close to carmy as he grabbed the first aid from a drawer and set it next to your thigh. in this office your breath was becoming his and his scent was overwhelming you, a mix of spices, cigarettes, sweat, and aftershave that made your head spin further. he removed your bandage, seeing a pill of blood pooling behind it and quickly soaked it up with a cotton pad, he put antiseptic on a q-tip and cleaned up the skin surrounding the wound before reapplying a clean bandage. carmy did his best not to think about how you got such a cut or why it needed stitches. all he could do was focus on fixing what he could. you watched him work, silent besides the puffs of air, his hair was cascading onto his forehead, his arms tense as he cleaned you up. mostly you couldn’t ignore how his jaw ticked and his brows got more furrowed.

“what are you thinking about?” you murmured almost a whisper, not wanting to disturb his peace.

“the fucker who did this.” he seemed satisfied with his handiwork, pulling back a little, hand still on your cheek as he made sure your wound wasn’t still bleeding through the bandage.

“he got it worse.” you pressed a kiss to the palm of the hand that was tilting your chin up. and carmen berzatto almost lost his remaining marbles at the action. without thinking about it, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, careful to not bump his head against yours and you gasped at the feeling. you hadn’t expected him to make a move, fully prepared to do it yourself. his lips were much softer against yours than you expected. the way he moved was careful and sweet but you wanted more. you wound your fingers around his apron tie and tugged it, pulling you closer against him and licking at his lips against you. the action made carmy lose his senses, immediately reacting to you by wedging himself between your legs and pulling you closer by your hips, now filling the small space between you and the edge of the desk. his lips moved much less carefully now, licking into your mouth and memorizing your taste and sounds. the kiss was hot and messy, much more like what you were used to and it made the ache in your head move south. you pulled back for air noticing how he trailed after you pressed kisses to your neck like a seal had been lifted and he could finally do what he wanted. you whined at the feeling, moving back to lift his head to meet your gaze. his eyes looking up at you made your head swim, his glossy lips painting much darker images of similar positions.

“carmy, i need you.” and carmy could hear the banging and yelling in the kitchen behind me, he could smell something burning on a stove. but carmy could also hear your labored breathing combined with his, your swollen lips and your rising chest, and not to mention your intoxicating scent. it wasn’t just your perfume, as he pressed kisses to your neck he couldn’t get enough of you. your taste and your presence was making him want to be selfish, it felt right to stay here with you and it scared him. carmy still would’ve chosen what he did despite the feeling, lifting his apron off and throwing it on the floor nearby.

“fuck it, come here.” he sat down on his office chair, opening his arms for you to climb onto his lap and you took in the sight. muscular legs stretched out in front of him and his tattooed arms beckoning towards him was something you wanted framed. on shaky legs you stood up and straddled his waist, swallowing as you sat down. carmy was watching you with a new determination, looking up as you rested your hands on his shoulders. you were still too far, he needed to feel you fully against him, holding you by the hips and moving you closer, grinding you against his hardening cock in the process. the motion made you stiffen, a small gasp leaving your lips and carmy couldn’t help but lift a hand to your cheek. it was just as soft as he imagined, stroking it with a callused thumb and you pressed your face closer to it. god must have taken his time with you, carmy decided.

unfortunately he had no luxury of time, he was sure richie would come looking for him soon. leaning back in the chair, taking you with him, and clicking the lock of the door. “can i?” he had a finger hooked under your shirt hem. you could feel him, large and throbbing against your core and you nodded furiously as he lifted it off you. you shoved your hands underneath his shirt too, watching him for a nod before you tore it off. carmy seemed to be taking it all in, leaning back again and you weren’t even hiding your ogling. why the fuck did a chef in a deli have abs? you weren’t complaining, not one bit, you could think of a lot of things to do with them. your hands were much less careful than his, not even hesitating as they glided up his taut tanned skin watching his chest rise and fall as your hands returned to his shoulders. he relished in how soft and warm they were, smooth like butter and warming up his skin everywhere they went. carmy was much more patient than you it seemed, you had been practically foaming at the mouth waiting to touch him. but carmy was just in awe.

“you’re driving me crazy.” his voice was gruff and low as he said it, watching you as he undid your bra and slid a rough hand up to your breast. immediately your nipples perked up and carmy licked a long stripe across your right breast, watching your whine as you tilted your head back. his hands felt so rough and large against you, covering you and spreading their warmth. you whined as he bit down, taking his time teasing you. the drag of his teeth against your sensitive buds and his abrasive palm massaging you was grating against your rational thought, your body moving to its own accord as you ground down on him, hips moving desperately. you needed some relief and the hard throb of him against the sensitivity between your legs was enough for now. his free hand found purchase in the dip of your waist and pushed down, halting your movement. he was slightly drunk off your taste and scent so he had to remind himself he couldn’t take his time with you. any minute now the door would be banged on, pulling him back to reality. he unlatched from your skin with a lewd pop and tapped against your hip, unzipping his jeans and you eagerly moved off him. you tugged your own jeans down, eyes not moving from his bulge as it sprung free against his boxers. carmy’s eyes always seemed to be on yours, taking in the emotions there and it felt somehow much more intimate than you standing in front of him topless. he reached towards your hand, pulling you back and out of your thoughts.

“i-i don’t know if it’ll fit.” you’d been thinking it since before when he was biting up your chest, but now with it prodding your clothed clit it felt too big. carmy had to hide his amusement, tried not to think about how all your confidence and eagerness had slipped away.

“do you think you can try? huh?” he brushed a hair back, caressing your cheek and looking at your face for any hesitation. you nodded, lifting up on your knees to push your underwear to the side as carmy sprung himself free. you gasped as his tip pressed up against you, making you clench on air, and looking down didn’t help your growing wetness. he was long and thick, red neglected tip hot and heavy against your skin and you wanted to memorize the veins along the side. the sound of your shallow breath mixed with his, a symphony of anticipation. you wove a hand down, collecting the slick at the tip and coating his length. god he was so long, probably the biggest you’d ever had and you weren’t sure if you could walk out of here on two stable legs.

carmy watched as you swallowed down, eyes on his member and this time he couldn’t hide his smirk. your skin was on fire, it wasn’t like he was any better but he wasn’t unabashedly licking his lips like you had just done. it took all his self control to not just slip up into you when your eyes widened as you looked down. you led him into your entrance, practically dripping onto him and carmy threw his head back. with shaking hands and aching thighs, you slid him against your entrance. he was too thick, his tip catching against your clit as you tried to shove him in. you glared at him like it was somehow his fault and carmy swiped his thumb across your hip in apology. your hands were shaking and your legs ached, but you tried again, tried to relax and pushed him in. instantly the stretch made you gasp, adjusting to the burn between your legs and how fucking stuffed you already felt.

“fuck, so fucking tight.” carmy felt like you were choking him, warm and constrictive. it felt his blood flow was being cut off. you breathed in and out letting yourself get used to the stretch as you lowered down on him, your thighs burning as you concentrated. the ache in your body was pain earlier but now it mixed with the intense pleasure of being beyond filled up. would you ever be able to fuck anyone besides carmen berzatto?

the ache was quelled by the feeling of him twitching inside and you moaned as you nearly bottomed out. carmy watched your eyes flutter closed in concentration, your eyebrows knitted together and your expression wracked by pleasure. his hands were a vice grip around your waist, you’re sure there would be bruises there tomorrow but you didn’t care, you slowly lifted up on him and moved down, his veins dragging against your walls as his tip bumped against the fleshy spot inside you that made you clench on him. if he bottomed out you’re sure you would feel him prod at your heart. you set a slow pace, moving slowly up and down as carmy did his best not to take over. finally when he could tell the burn in your legs was becoming too much he experimentally thrusted up, and your eyes snapped to his face. your pupils were blown out and glazed over in lust and your lips raw from where you’d been biting them to hold back your sounds. carmy wished he could hear them, wished his ears were ringing from how loud you could yell his name, but today wasn’t the day.

so instead he took control, holding your hips in place as he jacked up into you, driving against the spot he knew made you fall slack in his hold. your body twitched and shaked against him, mind going numb as his control slipped and he bottomed out in one sharp thrust. your lip slipped from between your teeth and like you couldn’t help it any more you whined his name. and he didn’t think anyone would fault him for losing the remainder of his sanity.

driving in and out of you with a force that bounced your legs upwards as his tip grazed your cervix, you could feel him everywhere could feel him twitching inside you, his veins, the now slickened hair at the base of his shaft and you could feel yourself pouring down on him, his coated balls slapping against your ass. it was all too much, the way he pressed a kiss to your neck as he dug himself into you, shaping you for him and plugging you so full you couldn’t breathe. he slowed his pace, feeling like he couldn’t hold back much longer and slightly pushed you back, unclasped your hands from around the back of the chair and brought a free hand down between your bodies. his finger found your clit, massaging it as his thrusts became deeper and slower. in this position you felt exposed, your bleary eyes and bruised lips looking down at his blown out pupils and tousled hair. his eyes were always the most expressive part of him, watching you in amazement and pure desire. and then carmy pressed a flat hand against where he was burrowed deep inside, against your stomach and it all became too much, shaking as your orgasm overtook you. you clenched around him, thighs digging into his sides as he continued fucking you through it, his hand massaging your puffy overstimulated clit as you bit down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming his name.

you slumped over him, carmy keeping his hand on your stomach as he reached his own high and pumped you full, throwing his head back and letting you take it. to no surprise his come was slipping down your thighs, already too stuffed full to keep anything in and you groaned at the feeling. the loss and the messiness of it all made you cringe. carmy slipped out of you, moving your underwear so the remainder would stay with you, keep reminding you of him and you tried not to think about the implication. instead you just sat back down, feeling much emptier this time and stared at his fucked out expression. he pressed a kiss to your lips, the meaning now too apparent for you to ignore, it felt like a goodbye kiss. you couldn’t take this much longer, if he didn’t want to see you again you had to leave now.

you moved off on shaky legs, his eyes tracking your movement as you did it, you could still feel his gaze as you turned around to find your clothes. however you didn’t expect him to break the silence, you thought you’d slip away and he’d pretend that it never happened.

“what happened here?” he pressed an outstretched finger to your back, you’d forgotten about the scar there. you probably shouldn’t have shown your back to him, most people you slept with didn’t ask questions like that but you should’ve expected it from him.

“honest answer?” you pulled on your jeans and bra, turning to face him, he’d pulled his boxers up, you masked the disappointment on your face. he nodded slow, a little bit worried what the answer was but still wanting to know all the same, he could guess based on the scar but he wanted to make sure. it was a circular indent, like something had pierced it. he didn’t feel anxious, he just felt this strange anger welling up in him.

“i got shot.” you said it nonchalantly, like it happened to everyone. carmy closed his eyes for a second as if you couldn’t see the flash of emotions on his face and when he opened them he just nodded, doing his best not to freak the fuck out. you were standing in front of him, looking like an angel sent just for him telling him you got shot. he wouldn’t survive you, but then he couldn’t think about just letting you go either.

“the other person?” a smile tugged at your lips, maybe carmen berzatto was different from what you thought.

“got it worse.” he nodded standing and grabbing your shirt from where it had been flung behind him, pulling it over your head as you watched him in amusement. you pushed down the feeling that sprung up from him dressing you, instead focusing on the graze of his fingers on your skin.

“you can ask me more you know?” you could see the questions on the tip of his tongue, his lips pursed like he was physically holding them back. you looped your arms through the shirt as he stood cross armed in front of you. you didn’t have anything to lose so your eyes didn’t leave his tattooed arms, tracing the veins and muscles along them. carmy blushed like a school girl at your actions, like his office didn’t still smell of sex.

“i don’t know if i’ll survive the answers.” he was being honest, his jaw clenched as he ruminated over all the worst case scenarios. his stomach flipping as your eyes found his once again.

“i guess ignorance is bliss,” you didn’t believe that, not really, in your line of work knowing everything possible was the only way to survive.

“you’re safe though right?” carmy realized he was being a little bit ridiculous given the circumstances but you could lie to him, try and convince him that yes you were safe. instead of answering you just looked at him, really looked at him, you tried to memorize the different hues of his eyes and the sharpness of his nose, the marks on his face. the longer you didn’t answer, the longer he felt a cold sweat line his back. he was running out of time, he needed to get back out. “what’s your number?” leaning over he grabbed his phone from his desk, his arm grazing yours. you put it in and handed it back, saving your contact as well.

“just uh tell me you’re okay alright?” it was probably the sweetest anyone’s been to you in a while, earnestly at least, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek nodding and slipping out of his office quietly. carmy did his best to conceal his red face as he got redressed and exited his office, met with yells and questions.

#carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto imagine

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neocoffeecafe · 4 months

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yangyang dubcon...??

lip gloss and pink (m) | home | writing masterlist | fic rec library

includes/warnings hard dom!yangyang, fem!reader, semi public sex, dubcon (attempt), anal, drunken sex, innocent!reader, plus sized friendly!reader, perv!yangyang, savior complex, virgin!reader, pink and white aesthetic!reader, being watched, ass eating, cum eating, licking, more clothed sex, unprotected sex, fingering, stealing of virginity, filthy talk, wall sex, corruption, etc

wc 2.1k

a/n i’ve never written anything dubcon! so this is a first for me! if the dubcon part isn’t very good, i’m sure the smut is ;)

pink glossy lips. pink glossy lips that wrapped around the lips of the beer bottle, the fowl taste travels down your throat and into your tummy.

your friends are all laughing and drinking and eating the baskets of wings that sit in the middle of the table, forks poking into wing after wing and shoving messy wings into their own mouths, sauce smearing on the corners of their lips but they’re too intoxicated to care. your slower though as you pick at a wing, cleaner with the sauce unlike your friends.

you weren’t one for drinking. not at all, actually. you’ve drank maybe once or twice before, but those times were on new years and your grandmothers birthday party where she wanted to give you alcohol at only eight years old. she thought it would be funny, to “expose you to the real world.” at that time you swore to never drink alcohol again. that was before you made friendships with this group. the group that peer pressured you into drinking several different types of alcohol, that you later threw up on the sidewalk walking home.

your outfit tonight was pink. like the innocence that dappled on your cheeks and the innocence on your plush lips. thats what caught his eye from across the bar. he almost spilt the drink he was shaking on himself from the distraction of you. you, a mere stranger to him. a cute stranger with the cutest little plumpest belly. your color palette was pink and white, even the color of innocence. couldn’t he wait to get that little white crop top off of you…

you visibly cringe as another quarter of the bottle enters your insides, and it tastes as awful as ever. your onto your third wing of the night, the powerful flavors burst in your mouth making your eyes widen. you reach for your water to only find out it being the beer.

you spit it back in the bottle in a panic, it doesn't really soothe the heat the wing brought to you. you hear a soft giggle behind you, one you don’t recognize. all your friends are completely oblivious to the outside world, the world that welcomes you with an inviting hand. so, you take it.

“you seem very uncomfortable there. are you a drinker?” the red haired boy asks you, a soft smile on his lips. god, he can’t wait.

“er… no.” you say, climbing out of the booth with the help of a stranger, wearing a shirt with “buffalo wild wings” in big white letters on the front. you conclude that he works here.

“if you want, i could mix you up a drink if you want. its a simple little drink i highly recommend for new drinkers.”

seems trustworthy enough.

you blindly follow your savior to the empty bar, where he slips behind and starts fumbling with the bottles. the sounds around you disappear as you focus on the soft clinks of the bottles as he hunts for what he needs.

“so what’s your name?” he asks.

“y/n.” you respond, arms rested on the smooth bar counter.

“im yangyang.” he says, turning around with a bottle im hand, flashing you a precious, gummy smile. if only you knew. “unfortunately i'm missing another component of the drink. want to come to the storage room with me?” he points over his shoulder to a direction you can only assume is the storage room he talked about. “i’m sure i can sneak you in.” he chuckles and leaves the safety of the bar, and wraps around to your barstool. he offers a black polished set of nails.

“oh sure.” you say, hopping off of the stool with his assistance. you feel like two little kids on their way to a magical journey.

the storage room was only several footsteps away as all you really had to do was traverse through the high-top dwellers as they munch on their wings and adding to their collection of glass bottles for the poor servers and bussers to collect.

the two of you disappear into the storage room and yangyang closes the door behind him and twists the lock.

he sets the bottle from the bar onto one of the backup tables that were shoved against the wall across from the door.

“sit here.” he hoists you up on one of the low washing machines, catching a little sight of the mess underneath that little pink plaid skirt, your little pink undies that he couldn’t wait to rip off. your legs swinging back and forth, careful not to smack the washer too hard and break it, watching as he hunts for the final bottle. “so, were those guys your friends?”

“you can say that.” you reply, jumping at the sounds of the corks popping off, one of them skyrocketing and smacking the ceiling of the room, earning a childish and amused giggle from you.

so innocent. “so you don’t drink, but they brought you for some drinks?” you nod slowly, and watch as he frowns and pours small amounts of both bottles into a shaker, and he mixes the drinks. it doesn't take him very long, so he adds a little cherry to the top and a ring of hershey's syrup. “this is what i call a chocolate vanilla drink. it’s my specialty, and its very popular with non-drinkers.” he stands in front of you, and hands you the glass of the alcohol.

you tip the glass up and you already cringe, expecting a fowl and nasty taste. but instead you're greeted with a pleasant taste. a vanilla taste with hints of chocolate and even strawberries. it was like a perfect haven of flavors.

“whaddya think?” he asks, positioning himself in between your legs, and watches as you take another sip. “good enough for another sip i see.” he comments, a smug smirk on his face. “let me have a taste.” he says, but you were mid sip. so the logical solution?

he presses his lips to yours. you almost choked on the drink, but he takes it from you. the drink gets thrown back and forth between your mouths before he steals all the alcohol and swallows it. when you pull away, he helps you down from the washing machine. he grabs your hand and leads you to the table the bottles were just on earlier.

“bend over.” he commands, which, you do. intoxicated by his alcohol and intoxicated with his presence, you can’t really disobey him. you couldn’t push him away, even if you wanted to.

you feel him push up your skirt, his hands groping your plush ass and slaps his hand across your cheeks. you feel his warm breath against your hole, his fingers reaching to move your panties out of his way and let it fall to your ankles.

you suck in your teeth as the cool air hits the hole in between your cheeks, clenching and unclenching nothing. your body knew exactly what it wanted. his tongue makes contact with your hole, drunken moans escaping from your glossed lips, fueling the boner that was no longer so small.

the warmth of his tongue makes your legs shake and your unsure of the stability of your legs let alone the table. the loss of his tongue makes you whimper in defeat to only have it replaced by his long, slender fingers that you clench onto immediately.

“fuck, so tight.” he groans. “imagine when i shove my cock into that cute little hole of yours. think you can take it?” he swaps his fingers with his tongue and his fingers snake up to your pussy folds, his two fingers rubbing circles and threatening to enter.

“oh please.” you beg, your arms reaching to below the table, gripping on to the metal legs and support beams for dear dear life, already feeling hella stimulated with just his fingers and skillful tongue. you grind yourself on his face, earning another slap and a squeeze to your ass.

“gon spank this pretty ass of yours red raw.” his voice is muffled from it practically being buried in between your plump cheeks, hand coming in contact for another smack to your rear. he’s smirking as he watches your cheeks jiggle with each hit, and basks in the sounds of your whimpers and cries.

“m’gonna cum!” you cry out, your sweet white liquid coating his hands. you risk a glance back to see his veins visible, the rolled up sleeves of his pearl snapped company shirt absorb your ropes of white, well aware he would have to go back out in public, wearing your cum.

he licks a stripe up your ass, stopping at your hole to lap up the rest of your release, nothing but a smile on his lips as he stood up and pressed his growing bulge to your bent over for him.

“you feel this? this is what you're doing to me. ever since you walked in this joint.” he growls, rubbing himself against you. his hand grips your face and forcefully turns it to make you look at the corner of the room, a small black security camera settled in the tippy top of the crevice, witnessing everything that was happening. “think we can give them a show?”

your forced to oblige to your savior as he fumbles with his belt. your not sure if he’s drunk or just excited because he struggles a little, keeping your begging, begging hole waiting. the zipper of his jeans is loud and its his turn for something to fall to his ankles, his black boxers following his jeans.

“hold tight baby.” he cooes, and you listen to him as your grip on the metal tightens. his tip itself struggles to slip inside your tight tight hole, the stretch was painful and it oozed a little amount of scarlet red blood to drip down your leg. “little princess is a cute little virgin hm? never had a big dick like me hm? don’t worry y/n. you’ll feel better after i’m done with you.” with a growl he pushes himself in slightly more, getting by inch by inch inside of you, slowly stretching you out further and further. the pain was tolerable with the alcohol that surged through your system.

he was finally able to push himself balls-deep inside of you, skin-on skin. he gave you some time to adjust and get used to his size, before slowly pulling out and slamming himself back inside. you stumble forward, but his grip on your waist holds you along with your grip on the table. he slaps another hard smack to your ass, each smack getting harder and each new smack leaving a large white print on your cheeks.

“not gonna let you fall.” he reassures you, pulling out and slamming himself back inside, this time much harder. “little girls gonna get a creampie from her hero.” he says, pressing his nails to your skin to form crescent moons. marks he wished he were permanent. marks to simply claim a cute little stranger as his fuck toy.

you didn’t know what it felt like to have someone shoot a thick seed in you. but you began to grind yourself on his hips to get closer to your curiosity, but another sharp sting and you cry out as he spanks you again.

“please.” you whine out, unsure of what you were begging for. his thrusts became more violent and more aggressive to you, your worst fear becoming true: the table underneath you snapped.

you were almost sent to the floor when his strong arms wrapped around you, keeping you up. “said i wasn’t gonna let you fall.” he grumbles, using his hands to make you stand up, flipped you around, and pressed you to the wall. this new angle allowed him to push even deeper inside of you, the wall muffling your moans as he pressed his hand to your face. “fuck.” he groans, pressing his lips to your neck, his teeth capturing your skin and sucking on it gently. “m’gonna cum. ready for it babygirl?” the pet name rang in your ear, your legs are on the verge of snapping and letting you fall. his free hand slipped forward to rub your pussy, his fingers pinching your clitoris, giving you another sensation.

“i’m about to cum.” you shriek, your hands pressed against the wall, trying to grip on to nothing as he was slamming into you. you cum on his cock and on his fingers, which was like sending him into a frenzy.

his thrusts quickened, and he felt his high coming closer and closer. finally, he came inside of you, feeling his seed mix with yours and drip down your legs.

“looking so pretty for me.” he whispers in your ear, his hand massaging your folds peacefully, helping you ride out your high.

“perhaps,” you begin, speaking with heavy breaths, “i should drink alcohol more.”

@neocoffeecafe

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