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#five eleven ass
devilmass · 8 months
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But the devotional love is for Lira, sorry Roddy. He also probably loved lemonade, but not so much anymore…although he might be willing to try a sip.
that's okay, like 97% of rodrick's devotion is god's. the extra 3% is spread between his deacon, his dog and his caddilac 🥴 you want a ride in the cadillac?
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goldwingd · 2 years
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*  🧸  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐓  𝐁𝐎𝐗  :  THE 2000′S COLLECTION .
SPLINTERED  AT  THE  EDGES  AND  WEATHERED  BY  THE  ,  THE  TRINKET  BOX  HOUSES  CHERISHED  MEMORABILIA  FROM  THE  HONEYDRAG  UNIVERSE  .  PLAYING  CARDS  ,  FRIENDSHIP  BRACELETS  ,  SPLOTCHY  NEGATIVES  —  TIME  MAY  ABANDON  THESE  ARTICLES  OF  THE  PAST  ,  BUT  THEIR  HEARTS  REMAIN  IN  THE  TRINKET  BOX  .
ARTHUR  LEWIS  &  SELA  LARSON THE  JOKER  &  THE  QUEEN  ,  2022  @silksdream
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witchering10123 · 8 months
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hakoda & Sokka (Avatar), Mentioned Bato/Hakoda (Avatar) Characters: Hakoda (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar) Additional Tags: Dehydration, Fainting, Collapsing due to Dehydration, hydrate or diedrate folks, it's good advice to live by, Protective Hakoda (Avatar), Good Parent Hakoda (Avatar), Hakoda needs to start learning to take care of himself (Avatar), Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Hurt Hakoda (Avatar), totally not written from experience, hehe, take care of yourselves !!!, Whumptober 2023, Day Eleven: Fainting (Whumptober 2023) Series: Part 11 of a witchering's whumptober 2023 Summary:
“Did… did you get any water?” Sokka chews on his lip, his concern honing in on Hakoda. Hakoda hesitates. He didn’t, but… he doesn’t want to worry Sokka. Not after everything else his stupidity has put his son through. He smiles. “I had some before you woke up. Don’t worry about me,” he adds.
-----
Hakoda, in protecting Sokka, might have to concede that he's gone a little overboard.
Day Eleven: Fainting - can be read as a standalone
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kodaiki · 5 months
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┊.˚🪩 ༘┊͙ 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ; ↳ as a rising star in the tumultuous world of hollywood, you're handed a golden opportunity to boost your career – a fake relationship. what your manager forgot to mention? your leading man is none other than satoru gojo, hollywood's notorious fuckboy. easy? well, not exactly.
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pairing: fem!reader x satoru gojo tags: smau/partially written; actor/actress!au, fuckboy!gojo, jjk is a live-action show in this au, fluff/angst/humor length: 1/?? note: AAAAAAAAA im a sucker for fake dating, actor au trope. enjoy besties! <3 taglist details: CURRENTLY CLOSED !!
to be added to the taglist, leave a reply on the MASTERLIST post of the smau (this post!)! the capacity is 50 users so pls be mindful of that!
[disclaimer: the way the reader is portrayed is just for the reason of style/posing! this is not what the reader looks like (she should look like however you’d like her to!) just wanted to clarify!!]
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PROFILES ↳ y/n's besties ↳ gojo's group ↳ others
ONE – hold on, i'm dating who?
TWO – the deal
THREE – he will be a pain in the ass
FOUR – satoru, don’t be a whore
FIVE – act like you like her
SIX – meeting and matching hoodies
SEVEN – exclusive! satoru gojo’s party
EIGHT – interrupted movie night
NINE – angus disapproves
TEN – the interview
ELEVEN – it’s giving jealousy
TWELVE – breaking out
THIRTEEN – besties united
FOURTEEN – good night, loser
FIFTEEN – the audition
SIXTEEN – try again?
SEVENTEEN – sleepover
EIGHTEEN – sugar daddy
NINETEEN – we’re booked!
TWENTY – lego flowers
TWENTY & A HALF – friends?
TWENTY ONE – in denial
TWENTY TWO – invitations sent!
TWENTY THREE – i’m literally home
TWENTY FOUR – roommativersary party pt. 1
TWENTY FIVE – roommativersary party pt. 2 ─ BONUS – maki and shoko's texts after the party ─ BONUS – texts from shoko and suguru to gojo
TWENTY SIX – two months later…
TWENTY SEVEN – new character unlocked
TWENTY EIGHT – get her a grammy ─ BONUS – y/n's texts with suguru
TWENTY-NINE – sleepovers n skincare
THIRTY – let’s be honest…
THIRTY-ONE – coming to terms
THIRTY-TWO – satoru and y/n being sickeningly sweet
THIRTY-THREE – it’s like a reward
THIRTY-FOUR – worst news ever
THIRTY-FIVE
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strang3lov3 · 3 months
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Enjoy the Silence
You trespass into Joel’s house in search of some peace and quiet so you can get yourself off. Joel catches you in his bed in a compromising position. (5.2k)
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That’s Pedro’s bum can you tell I love ass
Tags- pillow humping, masturbation, getting caught in the act, some humiliation but Joel talks you through it, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, prone bone, softdom Joel, little bit of crying (good tears) creampie, let me know if there’s something I missed.
A/N- Thank you to @tightjeansjavi , @notjustjavierpena , and @noxturnalpascal for all of your encouragement on this I know I’m not easy to deal with sometimes AND thank you my dear readers for being patient with me, I’ve been slacking on writing/uploading. I’d love it if you’d say hi to me, I’ve been missing you!! Hope you enjoy this one I’m glad to be back❤️🩷💜💙🩵
It’s too fucking loud tonight. You live with a group of single women in Jackson, all somewhere around your age, a few older, a few younger. You get along well with them, and they get along well with each other. Too well, perhaps. They’ve been talking for hours tonight. Hours. And they talk for hours most other nights too, especially now that the weather is starting to warm up. They’ve been making drinks and playing music, being rowdy. It’s past eleven at this point and they’re still going at it. 
You can’t sleep. The blankets are too warm, but without them you’re cold. You’ve flipped your pillow over what feels like hundreds of times.  It’s just one of those nights. Except every night is one of those nights, it seems. You tried touching yourself to fall asleep easier, but with no success. It’s not exactly the easiest getting off in such a full house. You’ve got privacy in your bedroom, sure. But the walls are thin and sound carries with such ease.
 God, does this suck. A lot of your problems would be solved if you could just get yourself off. You sit up in bed and stare out your window and into the window of the house next to yours. Joel’s window. His lights are off now, but earlier you had caught a glimpse of him getting out of his bathroom. His hair was wet and slicked back, his skin shiny and damp. He’s so sexy, so thick. That’s when you moved your hand between your thighs as you watched him pick out clothes from his dresser, biting your lip and circling your clit frantically as you prayed for his towel to drop. It didn’t. It never does. You groaned quietly in disappointment as you watched Joel walk back to his bathroom and then come out moments later fully dressed, subsequently shutting off his lights and leaving his bedroom. For a moment, with your eyes and your thoughts focused on Joel, you were able to block out all the noise and focus on your pleasure. But then he left and the pleasure vanished. 
You’ve lived next to Joel for quite a while now. More often than not he’s grumpy, keeping mostly to himself and Ellie. He’d usually just glare at you and your roommates. He can be friendly with others, though. 
Once one evening, Joel had spent five minutes knocking at your door to complain about the noise. You saw it coming, you and your roommates had amassed quite a few dirty looks from him in the moments prior. You watched him through the window, glaring at your porch from his own. Your roommates were outside, talking and listening to an old but new-to-you CD. He wore a scowl and his arms were crossed at his chest when you finally opened the door. 
“You ladies are chatty,” he grumbled. “Your music’s hurtin’ my ears.”
“We can be chatty, yeah,” you replied, “But you’re kinda crotchety.”
Joel sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m askin’ you politely to keep it down,” He turned to leave then, but you tapped the back of his leg with your foot, stopping him, “You could go inside, you know,” you taunted.
Joel turned back around slowly. He looked so big, so broad as he looked down at you. “So could you.”
“Hm,” you hummed. You weren’t really sure why you were arguing with Joel when really, you agreed with him. The CD player sounds tinny and hurts your own ears at times, you can’t imagine what it does to Joel’s damaged ears. And the girls were too loud, other people live around here. But you were annoyed at the way he came over to complain about the noise level when he doesn’t know half of it, how loud it gets. “Fine. I’ll get them to quiet down if you do something for me.”
Joel raised his eyebrows, “Oh, I’m doin’ ya favors now?”
“Something like that,” you said. 
“What do you want?” he asked through a sigh. 
“You’re right, they’re being too loud,” you explained, “You don’t know how loud it can be, actually. I’ll try to get them to quiet down if you let me get some peace and quiet.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, your house is usually pretty quiet,” you began. 
Joel nodded. “Mhm. And I like it that way.”
“And I’ll keep it that way,” you urged. “Please? My roommates are so loud, I can’t even hear myself–” 
“Yeah, I know. Come on,” Joel interrupted. “Let’s go inside, then. Talk to your girls tomorrow.”
Joel led you to his house, opened the door for you and brought you inside. He offered you a glass of water and told you to make yourself at home, so you sat quietly on his sofa. Joel sat on the loveseat next to you. He figured you’d have brought a book or something to busy yourself with, but when he looked up at you after a few moments, you had curled your legs into your chest, laying sideways on his couch. He laughed to himself quietly and laid a blanket over your body, then turned out the lights and went upstairs to bed. You had never slept so peacefully. And that’s how the tradition began, Joel would let you come over to enjoy the quietness of his home. You never made good on his end of the deal, though. Your roommates stayed too loud, but it didn’t matter. You and Joel had found a system that worked for you both. 
Still staring at Joel’s window, you shift your attention towards the direction of Joel’s front door when you hear it slam shut. You watch him stroll away, probably off to drink with Tommy or something like that. 
Your core is still aching, a dull but constant ache. You’re thinking about Joel, unable to get the image of his slick body out of your mind. You’re thinking of the quietness of his house. Peace and quiet would be nice right about now. It’s never this late when you go over to Joel’s. You know you’re welcome over any time. Joel gave you a key to his home when you earned that privilege. But surely he didn’t have that open-door policy for what you’re thinking of using his quiet home for. He wouldn’t know though, right? 
Fuck it, you decide, climbing out of your bed and sliding on a pair of slippers. First grabbing Joel’s key from your nightstand, you exit your room and go down the stairs, going towards the back door where you walk past all of your roommates in the living room who don’t seem bothered or worried about what you’re up to this late at night. The chill of the air bites at your cheeks and your shoulders. You didn’t bring a jacket, but the distance from your back door to Joel’s isn’t a long one. 
You unlock his back door with your key and let yourself inside, scraping any dirt from your slippers on his doormat so as not to track it inside. It’s always quiet, but the silence is almost eerie. It makes you feel uneasy, doubly so because you know you’re doing something you shouldn’t be. But you’ll be quick. Joel won’t know, so no harm no foul. 
You scan the first floor, looking for a quiet, comfortable area. Joel’s home looks almost like TV in black and white the way it’s so dark right now. The first floor is no good, you’ll feel exposed. So you walk up his stairs, and your first instinct is to go to his guest room. You spend a lot of time there anyway, when you’re not napping on his couch you’re napping in that room. But he keeps it clean for you, pristine. The bed is made neatly and tailored specifically to his taste. You’d never be able to recreate that, he’d instantly become suspicious.
Across the hall is his own bedroom, not nearly as tidy as his guest room. A clothes pile on a chair, the shade of his lamp slightly off kilter. His bed is made up of crumpled sheets and blankets, the pillows indented from the weight of his head. Joel won’t know a thing. 
You tiptoe into his room, closing his door but the creak of its hinge cuts through the quiet air and startles you. Maybe it’s better to leave it untouched. You make your way quietly to his bed, first sitting on the edge, your feet dangling slightly in the air. You kick your feet a little, letting your slippers fall off. You feel so out of place here, so wrong. Like you’re invading his privacy, but you’re not. Not really. You’re not here to snoop or to do anything wrong, you’re just here to…well.
You lie back in his bed, his sheets are soft and worn, cold on the back of your legs. Their scent fills your nostrils, they smell like Joel. Like soap and his musk, slightly sweaty. It’s almost like he’s here with you. Spreading your legs and dipping your hand beneath your pajama bottoms, your mind starts to wander. Tracing your clit with your fingers, your brain is flooded with flashes of Joel. At first, it’s images of his neck, his forearms, his hands, all the veins protruding, muscles flexing. You’re circling your clit faster as you imagine he’s here with you, that it’s not his bed you’re lying against but instead his chest, he’s holding your knees apart as he nudges your head to the side with his nose, your neck exposed for him to lick and kiss and nip as you tease your cunt. You come quickly and your fantasy drifts from you. You make yourself come once more before you adjust the bedsheets slightly, put your slippers on and leave. Joel’s bedroom looks just as he left it. 
You watched him, learned his evening schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he’s out on evening patrol, he doesn’t come home until the early morning. Those are the nights you sneak over to his house. As time goes on, you learn that you can be less careful. You don’t bother wiping your shoes, you don’t tiptoe like you used to. You’ll push the bedroom door open wide when Joel leaves it halfway shut. When you leave, you don’t bother laying the sheets back in the way Joel has them crumpled.
Joel notices.
You still come over for your usual quiet time, and Joel studies you. He’s begun sitting close to you, trying to memorize the smell of your shampoo on your hair. He thinks he smells it on his pillow. And the scent of your body, your soap and your perfume. He thinks he can smell it on his sheets. He thinks he can smell you on his sheets. 
You stay too long in his bed one Thursday night, startled when you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps in the distance. You bolt out of his bed, going down his stairs both as quickly and as quietly as you can. You shouldn’t have been so ballsy. Joel thinks he hears the door close but doesn’t pay it much mind as he undresses and gets into bed, and he doesn’t even notice you running back to your house from his window. What he does notice, however, is the way his bed feels warm as he lays down. He runs his hand along the length of his bed, the sheets feel cool on the opposite side. When he flips on his side, his nose nudges against something damp on his pillow. That’s when he sees your light flickering on from across the distance between your two windows, he sits up in bed to get a closer look at you. He watches your chest heaving like you’re out of breath, perhaps from sprinting across his lawn. He watches you then fall on your bed, he sees both of your knees hike up and spread apart. That’s when he puts two and two together. Suspicions confirmed.
He always knew you were trouble. And now he knows what you’ve been up to, trespassing to touch yourself in his home, in his bed, without him. You goddamn deviant. He’s gonna catch you in the act. 
-
Four whole days go by, which gives Joel enough time to find someone to cover his evening patrol. It’s Tuesday night and he’s got his bedroom lights off so you can’t see him watching you from his window. You look antsy, pacing back and forth across your room, frequently checking your window to see if he’s left yet. When Joel does leave his home, he’s conscious to not look behind himself at your window, to see if your light turns off. He doesn’t want you to know that he knows. He doesn’t look to see if you’re sneaking through his lawn. Instead, he keeps walking, giving you ample time to really screw yourself. When he feels a sufficient amount of time has passed, he turns back around and walks home. He enters his front door slowly and quietly, like a ghost. He takes careful steps through his living room, up his stairs. When he reaches his room, he pushes the door open wider and leans against the frame, listening to your breathy moans, watching you grind on his pillow in the low light of his room. You’re gripping his headboard as you whine, you’re even wearing one of his dirty flannels. Sick puppy. 
“Joel,” you moan to yourself. “Joel, oh god–” the lights turn on and you turn your head to see Joel leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed.
“Joel!”
“Yeah, I know,” Joel murmurs. “Caughtcha, didn’t I?” Any words you could possibly think of are caught in your throat. You feel hot, itchy. Joel notices the key he gave you sitting on his dresser and spins it around his finger. “Wasn’t what I had in mind when we set up our little arrangement.”
“I was– I wasn’t–” you shift uncomfortably as Joel puts the key down. 
He shuts his door and approaches you on his bed, first examining his headboard. He hums when he sees there’s little indents in the wood from your fingernails, marks on the wall behind the headboard. It all makes sense now. When Joel sits next to you on his bed, you quickly slide your ass off of his pillow and away from him. He’s quicker, tugging your– his flannel in the opposite direction, forcing you back to your place. “Nuh-uh,” he chides. “You stay right there.”
The air feels thick and Joel’s eyes are dark, almost inky black. You can hardly look at him, his intense gaze making you squirm. So instead you look down, where he plays with the fabric of his flannel, admiring the way it dances on your thighs with his touch. He lets a silence hang heavily between you both as he presses his lips in a thin line, waiting for you to explain yourself. You don’t. You can’t. You feel so exposed, so ashamed of yourself.
“Whatcha been doin’ to my pillow?” he finally asks. His voice is low, quiet and deep. He’s met with more silence. “Makin’ a mess, s’what. Up to no good, hm?” More silence as you adjust his flannel over your body, protecting your modesty. “I’m askin’ you a question,” he takes your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, forcing eye contact. 
“Yeah,” your voice is hardly above a whisper. Your face is hot, your waterline is brimmed thick with tears, a few spilling over. “I’m sorry, Joel.”
“Ohhh, I know,” Joel coos, wiping the tears from your cheek with his thumb. “M’not tryin’ to embarrass ya, darlin’. S’human nature.” You can’t even begin to think of a way to get out of this situation. “S’that pillow ‘sposed to be me?”
“Yes.” 
“Figures,” Joel mumbles. “Makin’ me blush,” he taunts, tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. His touch makes your tummy flutter, it feels misleading. Like you’re enjoying it almost, though you shouldn’t be. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he says. “Didn’t need to make believe with my pillow. Get yourself into all this trouble.” You can’t quite get a read on what his angle is here. Still aroused and you feel nervous, small, guilty – awaiting punishment of some sort. 
 You’re defeated. All you can do is nod in understanding. You find the bravery to meet his eyes, his gaze still dark and intense, perhaps even hungry. He walks his fingers up the length of your thigh, noticing how you twitch as he nears your center. “I’ll go easy on ya f’ya tell me the truth. How long you been doin’ this, sweetheart?”
You are in trouble. He’ll go easy on you if you tell him the truth. “I dunno,” you whisper.
“Sure you do.” 
 You don’t even know. A few weeks, a month maybe. You shrug. 
“Think you wanna be honest with me,” Joel advises, provoking you slightly. Nothing from you. “S’alright. You don’t have to tell me. Just means you’re gonna finish the job.” 
“What?”
“You’re gonna finish what you started,” he says. “And this time I’m gonna stay right here and watch.”
Your heart drops. You search Joel’s eyes, looking for some sort of indication that he’s fucking with you. You’re not sure that you’re capable of this. Sex and masturbation are already two different animals. Getting off in front of the man you fantasize about in his bed? Where would you even begin?
“You had the balls to start this, you’re gonna finish it. Come on sweetheart, show me how you do it,” Joel nods, gesturing for you to begin. When you don’t, Joel scoots even closer to you on the bed. “So shy, aren’t you?” He turns his body toward you slightly, outstretching an arm across your body and then holds your hip in his strong hand. He begins to guide your movement, encouraging you to rock back and forth on his pillow. But you’re stiff in his hold. “Come on now,” he encourages, “Y’can even hold my hand f’ya want.”
Joel holds his free hand out to you, still moving your hip with the other. He knows how vulnerable and exposed you feel right now. Taking his hand, your other gripping the headboard once more, you still can’t meet his eyes, Instead you squeeze them shut, your hips following the guidance of his grip. 
“Why you bein’ quiet?” he asks, “Need to hear ya.”
Complying with his request, you let out a shaky and small moan. More of a whisper, really. He hums in approval, encouraging you to be louder. You’re starting to build a pace and find your courage, at least a little. 
When you let out a real moan, a real sound of pleasure, Joel squeezes your hip. “Ohh, there it is. Good girl,” he coos, “Good fuckin’ girl.” 
It’s instantaneous, the way his praise goes right to your core. You’re rocking your hips faster now, adjusting yourself to find a better angle. You can feel your own slick beneath you on the fabric of Joel’s pillow, wetting your thighs and your ass. His hand grips your own firmly, holding you steady, reminding you that he’s here with you.
Joel smirks as you move on your own accord. He lets go of your hip to explore your stomach and your torso with his palms, his fingertips dancing along the underside of your breasts. He sits up to get closer to you, tweaking one of your nipples beneath his fingers and sucking the other into his mouth, licking and swirling his tongue around the peaked bud. You tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper curls, tugging the strands as you ride his pillow. 
This is all he wanted. To watch you leave your mark on his clothes, in his bed, on his walls. He pulls away from you and watches you in admiration, moaning softly when he finally presses his palm against his bulge. He undoes his jeans and pushes both them and his boxers down his thighs, then removes his shirt. He grips his cock tightly, biting down on his moans as he gazes at you with lust in his eyes. He thinks you’re getting close now. Your hips are beginning to stutter in their movements, you’re getting quiet now like you’re concentrating on your pleasure, your body’s tensing up. He’s been so focused on you, he’s forgotten all about the fact that this is supposed to be your punishment for trespassing. 
Fuck. The punishment. 
Joel doesn’t have a clue how he’ll punish you as he lurches forward, kneels behind you and pulls your arms from the headboard. He hopes he’ll find the answer along the way. All he knows is that you’re not coming, not yet. Especially not by your own doing. Yeah, that’ll work, he thinks. He’ll bring you to the brink of orgasm, make you beg and apologize before finally letting you come. Maybe he’ll not even let you come, he’ll see how he’s feeling as time progresses 
Joel holds your arms behind your back in one hand and you yelp in surprise, then he adjusts his placement and pulls you back by your legs until you’re prone on his bed. “Up, sweetheart, up,” he mumbles, lifting your hips and pulling his pillow back, propping your ass up for him. The dampness of your arousal on his pillow feels warm and sticky against your tummy.
He palms your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh before parting your cheeks with his thumbs. He runs a single digit through your soft, slick folds, humming as you tremble beneath his touch. You’re so wet. “What a fuckin’ mess,” he purrs, pressing his middle finger against your entrance, circling it before pushing inside. You keen into his touch, arching your back for him. 
“Joel,” you whine as he pulls his finger out. 
“Do you know what a mess you made?” He doesn’t bother letting you attempt to respond, you’re way too addled for his touch to answer his question coherently. Joel dips his tongue between your sensitive folds, replacing his fingers. Just like how he touched you moments prior, he traces your entrance with a pointed tongue before dipping it into your heat. Your arousal is like honey, so thick and sweet on his lips. 
He tastes you, savors you as he kisses your cunt. He’s lapping through your slick folds, his tongue parting all of your sensitive flesh, sensitive just for him. You can feel the wiry hairs of his beard tease your clit before he dips his lower, circling and flicking your bud with the muscle. He sucks it between his lips, making you squirm and writhe in pleasure. “Joel, oh my god.”
Your fantasies of Joel were never like this, never so indulgent. He’s sucking at your clit, then licking, nipping at your folds, before focusing his attention back to that bud. You’re moaning, pushing your ass back and grinding against his mouth, feeling his aquiline nose tease your hole. He’s buried between your most private place, his tongue flicking and swirling with such fervor. You’re biting into his sheets and seeing stars when he enters you with his fingers once more, curling them into that sweet spot inside of you. 
You’re bucking against his face, your slick soaking his fingers to the knuckle, spilling into his palm. His fingers’ movements don’t falter as he pulls his mouth away from your cunt, trailing kisses over the crease where your ass meets your thigh. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
“I’m so close,” you answer through a gasp. 
Joel kisses up your ass cheek, “How many times did you make yourself come in my bed?”
“Twice,” you reply. You’ll answer any question he asks now.
“Only twice?”
“Tonight.”
“Ohh,” Joel says. “Twice tonight. How ‘bout in total?” 
You don’t know the answer. Of course you don’t. He’s doing the math in his head as he fingers you. He’s thinking at least twice a night, twice a week. This venture of yours has probably been taking place over a couple of weeks. So that’s…more than enough, he decides. “Yeah, ‘course you don’t know. S’lot though, hm?” He lifts his face to watch you nod. “In that case, m’not sure that you need to come again.”
“I do,” you whine, “I need it, Joel.” 
“You want it–” Joel pulls his hand from your core and you cry at the loss. God, you wish his mouth was back there. “You be good to me and I’ll consider it.”
Joel pumps his cock momentarily behind you before he nudges a knee between your thighs. “Wider,” he instructs, leaning over you from behind.  He brackets your thighs with his own, one hand on your waist as he notches the tip of his cock inside of you. He doesn’t yet push all the way in, though. Instead, he waits as you squirm and arch your back for him, trying to take more than what he’s giving you. You whine in frustration. “Easy, now,” he warns. “Should ask permission. Nicely.”
“Please, Joel,” you say, “Fuck me.”
“Yeah, there you go,” he praises, working into your body. You sigh in satisfaction as he buries himself in you fully, his tuft of coarse curls scratching against the skin of your ass. “Wasn’t so hard, hm?”
Joel tightens his grip on your hips, denting his nails into your skin like how you did to his headboard. His thumbs are pressed firmly into your lower back as he begins to roll his hips into you. The way he thrusts so languidly into you makes your head fuzzy, the only thought you can focus on being the sensation of his thick cock parting your insides. He’s fucking you steadily now, and you can feel the skin of his thick, pillowy tummy caressing your back with every stroke. Fuck, how good he feels.
He fucks you apart, setting a steady rhythm. Joel knows how much you needed him, how much you wanted him before now. How you love it, how it’s nothing but pure pleasure that makes up your whimpers and gasps and the tears on your cheek. He leans lower, covering your hand with his own and intertwining his fingers between yours. You shiver as he tugs your earlobe between his teeth, then licks and kisses your ear, his mustache tickling your skin as his nose nudges your temple gently. He takes a moment to kiss away your tears and rests his arm around the crown of your head, caressing your hair before fucking you wildly.
“Feels nice, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”
“So good,” you choke out. 
You can feel Joel’s grin against the shell of your ear. “Just how you imagined when you were fuckin’ yourself on my pillow, hm?” he purrs.
“Better,” your answer is honest. 
“Yeah, I know,” he says, “Good answer, sweetheart.” 
He curls one of his forearms beneath your bicep, reaching for your breast and tweaking, pinching you as he wraps his other arm around you, searching for your pussy with his hand. He finds your sensitive bundle of nerves and draws lazy patterns over it, teasing you. You’re so wet. So slick, your pussy gushing with each stroke of his cock deep inside you. The sounds of your slick and skin slapping skin are lewd, obscene as he pounds his hips against your body. He’s grunting, gasping in your ear. It sends shivers down your spine. 
You’re twitching and bucking your hips, chasing that tightness beginning to build in your tummy. “Easy,” he murmurs. “Let me take my time with you.” He knows how desperate you are to come, but Joel makes you wait a little longer, feel the burn some more.
You’re whining and squirming as Joel fucks you, his face buried against your neck the hair on his cheeks scratch you. He’s biting, nipping at your skin as you let out your breathy little moans. In every inch of his body, he feels it–that power he holds, knowing you’re aching to come on his cock and it’s all because of him, it’s all for him.
His cock is beginning to twitch and he’s feeling that warm, sticky feeling in his gut and deep in his balls, he’s not lasting much longer now. He fucks you harder. “What about now, huh?” he grunts, “Should I let you come now?”
“Yeah,” you moan. “Yes. Let me, let me.”
“Then ask me,” he whispers, momentarily slowing his pace. He draws in and out of you slowly as he speaks, “S’all I wanted you to do, just ask me.” 
“Please let me come, Joel,” you ask.
“Good girl,” He brings his hand to your face, shoving his fingers past your lips. You know what he wants, no need for his instruction. You’re moaning, sucking on the digits as he fucks you, the motion of his thrusts grinding your clit into his warm palm. Joel feels you begin to tense up as you choke on his fingers. “There you go, let go, let go f’me. You’re alright,” he coos. “Come for me. I’ve got you.”
You’re stiffening underneath him, eyes screwing shut as you let yourself go. You come on his cock and against the calloused palm of his hand, ecstasy washing over you in thick, electrifying waves. Joel watches your face closely, he memorizes your cries of pleasure and how you convulse beneath him. He’s fucking wrecked you. 
You’re gurgling on Joel’s fingers that are still in his mouth as he slides his other hand away from your cunt in favor of resting it up high by your head. It’s his turn for release now. He’s without a thought when his hips begin to stutter as they lose their rhythm, the frenetic slamming of his body against yours indicating his closeness. He lets out a symphony of grunts and moans into your ear as he comes inside you, painting your insides with his spend, milking himself entirely. You take it all, everything he gives you, whining at the overstimulation and the way his release makes you feel so warm and full. Your cunt is slippery with his come as his thrusts begin to slow, slow some more until he stills inside you completely, resting on top of you. With a groan, he pulls out to admire his work, to watch how your combined arousal spills on his sheets. He uses two fingers to push some of his escaped come back inside you. 
You stay laying on your tummy as you cross your forearms to use as a pillow to rest your head. Joel meets you on his bed, also laying on his tummy. You hadn’t even realized he undressed himself. 
He reaches over to caress your cheek, then your flannel-covered back. “Nice touch,” he murmurs. “S’pretty on you.”
“Smells like you,” you confess quietly. “Turns me on.”
Joel makes an amused face as he nods. His eyes are sparkly but sleepy and your cheeks are warm, you bite down on a shy and embarrassed smile. He smirks at that.  “So bashful,” he purrs. “You’re welcome to use my home and wear my clothes for your dirty work any time you like,” he says. “Just invite me every now and then.”
-
If you enjoyed, please leave me a comment, rb, or send me an ask, tell me your thoughts. Your kind words and engagement keep me motivated to write
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saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄
+ sae x f!reader | wc 4.9k | content: angst, fluff, some making out, implied sex, stupid teenager phase
notes: sobs this was not supposed to be this long … one of y’all need to stop me from writing about this man !! i love him too much, pls send help </3 extra: this is the song playing in the last scene :’)
summary: sae has few interests, and one of them is you. but sometimes, being special just isn’t enough.
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you’ve always been special.
ever since age three when your family moved across the street from where the itoshis lived. ever since age five when you finally gathered the courage to talk to the pair of brothers. ever since age six when sae invited you to play with him and rin. ever since age seven when you cried because someone bullied you at the playground and sae wiped away your tears. ever since age ten when both of you played with paper rings. ever since age eleven when you and sae would talk endlessly at night through the phone and get nagged at by your parents when they found out.
ever since age twelve when you told sae you’d watch him become the best soccer player in the world by his side.
your presence bleeds into sae’s life and he can’t think about anything without relating it to you; like how his breakfast tastes like ass when you’re not smearing your stupid peanut butter on it because apparently peanut better goes well with everything is your phase at that point of time. like how he’s walking home and he’ll always have to crane his head to the right just to check if you’re on your front porch swing, because if you are, he’ll wave and then you’ll smile and wave back, and sae would feel like it’s a special code you two share.
you’re probably the only thing he pays his spare attention to. and rin. you, rin, soccer. that’s all.
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you complain way too much, especially at the fact that sae doesn’t smile often. he counters, “that’s none of your business.”
and you tell him one day you’ll be the reason he smiles everyday.
sae thinks it’s kind of stupid though, because you already are. you just aren’t around to see it. he’ll probably never let you see it too. he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he did.
it isn’t long before you’re age fifteen and graduating middle school and you’re excited to start high school. it didn’t really make a difference for sae, as long as he got to play soccer, he really couldn’t care less.
when you’re age sixteen you tell sae that a boy from class broke your heart because he didn’t accept your valentines’ chocolates. it was as good as a rejection, apparently. or whatever girl code says it is.
frankly, sae’s just offended. you’ve never given him any valentines’ shit. all of a sudden some no name guy is getting it?
maybe it’s true what people say, teenage girls cry over stupid things they consider love that’s not actually love. now you’re getting his soccer jersey wet with your tears and you’re crooning on and on about how boys suck but somehow sae’s still the best.
you’re sixteen and crying on sae’s shoulder, while he’s seventeen and wishing he could torture the son of a bitch who made you cry.
this is the closest you’ve ever been, physically. your heart’s not really broken because whoever you’re crying about has never really had it. but sae doesn’t know that.
teenage girls make really stupid decisions sometimes. and other times, they making stupid passing comments, like when you say “glad i didn’t let him kiss me. would suck for my first kiss to be with a dick who didn’t give a shit about me.”
sometimes teenage boys make stupid decisions too.
sae doesn’t really know what possesses him to do this, but he doesn’t stop it. he doesn’t stop his hand from reaching out to you, doesn’t stop his fingers from tilting your chin up. there’s only confusion in your eyes when he looks into them. there’s only hesitation in his.
sae’s not anything to you except for a childhood friend, and you’re not anything to him, except for one of the most beautiful people he’s ever met. that’s why he does this slowly, so you have time to stop this.
he has no right to do this. he wishes you would just stop him.
you’re both teenagers when sae becomes your first kiss, when your tears stain his cheeks and he tastes like the fruits he just ate. you’re both delirious off of the feeling, like neither of you want this to end because your lips stay connected even when you’re not moving, and your lashes are fluttering against one another’s and sae really wants to kiss you again.
but it’s late and your parents are probably the ones knocking on his door right now so he stops himself and pulls away while rin bounds down the stairs to open the door.
sae sees nothing but you, you and your pretty face and your pretty lips and your perfect perfect person.
“there, now your first kiss is with a dick who does care about you.”
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it’s that same summer and you’ve forgotten all about the stupid boy that supposedly broke your heart. you have sae with you whenever he’s free, when he decides to bring you out after practice and explore rooftops to find the best view for the fireworks.
you’re not together, but it sure feels like you are.
then it’s autumn and the leaves are turning orange and red, and you swear you see sae’s cheeks and ears turn nearly the same shade when he holds your hand for the first time as you walk through the park, a white cat crossing in front of you.
sae blames it on his practice earlier and that he’s tired because there’s no way he’ll ever admit it’s because of you.
when winter comes, sae’s still taking care of you. nothing stops him from playing soccer, but nothing can stop him from finding you either. sae’s starting to regret his decisions when you force him to go ice skating and look at him expectantly whenever you see a mistletoe.
you’re a lot of work, maybe you’re worth it.
and then you kiss him again and he thinks yes, maybe he can do this. he can juggle soccer and you, it’ll magically work out.
finally it’s spring and you’re excited because you love the cherry blossoms, and sae thinks maybe he loves something else but he’s not going to go there yet. and while everyone’s watching the solar eclipse that one night, sae’s watching you.
for once, he wants to believe in superstitions, wants to believe what watching the solar eclipse means.
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“what’s the matter?”
you’re always so perceptive. you’d make a great playmaker, he feels.
of course you pick up on the tension, barely a minute after you walk into his room. sae doesn’t want to ruin this, whatever this is, whether it’s love or something less, or maybe something more.
but it’s not a democracy, and the answer is crystal clear in sae’s mind. his answer’s always been the same, but it’s not like you don’t exist in his world.
“the club in spain gave me an offer.”
that’s all he needs to say to make you understand. and if you weren’t the most understanding person he knows, you might’ve reacted differently, but you’re still the same supportive, kind girl he met at age four.
“when do you go?” your voice is shaky and he knows you’re trying to hold it together.
sae’s sorry, really.
“next month.”
it’s not a lot of time, but probably enough to say goodbye. then you throw your arms around him and you work your magic, you say you want to try despite the distance, despite the unknown timeline. and who is sae if not someone who’d give it a try?
he’s not even sure he can ever say no to you.
it doesn’t seem real until the night before he leaves, because you’re eighteen and standing in his near barren room, everything already packed into boxes and loaded.
maybe it’s the fact he’ll be gone for a very long time, doesn’t know when he’ll see you again. maybe it’s the adrenaline rushing through his veins when he feels you pressed up against him. maybe it’s the fact he’s denying the depth of his feelings for you and it’s getting him frustrated.
or maybe it’s because he’s selfish and he doesn’t want anyone else to have you, just like how he gave you your first kiss.
he’s your first kiss, and he’ll be your first time, with your hands clawing at his clothes. and you’ll be his, with the way he’s grabbing onto your bare back so desperately.
you’re eighteen and you think nothing’s prettier than the sounds sae makes, especially when his lips are right next to your ear, with his hot breath fanning against you.
sae’s nineteen and he thinks you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, in all sense of the word. he thinks you look pretty in pink, still pretty when you wear nothing too.
and suddenly sae thinks that maybe it doesn’t feel so crazy to think that the both of you might make it through this.
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long distance can work for some people. but sometimes it’s just meant to drive two people further away.
sae’s gaining momentum in europe, and you’re proud of him. you’re proud of your boyfriend, doing his best and showing off his talents and having his hard work pay off.
you’re really, genuinely happy for him. but the bigger of a star he is, the further away he feels, and maybe it’s selfish of you to want him here, to want him to be just your neighbour itoshi sae like how things started out.
maybe it’s selfish and wishful thinking, but you can’t help yourself.
sometimes sae doesn’t even have time to look at his phone. he’s tired and overwhelmed and understandably too. and you feel guilty everytime you subject him to your insecurities.
but you’re nineteen and you don’t know better.
rin’s not much fun to hang around with, especially when he got more stoic and awkward. he’s like a mirror of his brother, and that may fool a lot of people, except you knew him before that. but you’re not going to butt your head in things that don’t concern you, so you leave him be.
and suddenly the itoshis seem further away than they’ve ever been. for the first time in your life, you’re not sure if trying will be enough anymore.
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sae misses you. that’s whenever he has the free time to think, when he’s not hounded by trainings after trainings, when he’s not busy from day to night with whatever new training regime they’ve got him on.
is he aware that he’s probably being the world’s worst boyfriend now? yes. but sae can’t force himself to choose that over his dreams. can’t force himself not to choose soccer.
[17:08] she’s fine, idk what you’re worried about.
rin’s message doesn’t alleviate his worries. sae knows you better than anyone, and he doesn’t believe you’re fine.
[08:08] hey sae :)
[17:34] going to bed now, gn!! &lt;3
sae stares at your message for a while in the locker room, while everyone else is showering. you’ve cooled off on the pet names, you’re worried you’re overstepping. you’re worried he’s lost his feelings.
he’s not.
he’d be crazy to.
but he can’t find the energy to convince himself that this would turn out fine. he can’t convince himself that he’s not hurting you every single day by not being able to be everything you need, by not being able to be physically there for you.
this half-assed relationship isn’t what you deserve. and where he is right now, with his bird’s eye view of the world, he doesn’t know if he can ever give you anything else.
[17:49] goodnight. call you tomorrow.
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the moment sae breaks up with you, you feel like that kid at sixteen all over again, except this time you don’t have your favourite person’s shoulder to cry on and this time it’s actually love.
all you can think of when you hear him pick up the phone is that morning right before he left for the airport, how his hair’s a mess and how his lashes are way too pretty and how he sounded when he’s all groggy and tired.
but then he tells you the one thing you do not want to hear, and the illusion is shattered into pieces.
“this isn’t working out.”
“what are you talking about?” he’s silent, and you’re anxious. “we’re fine, sae.”
you can hear him sighing over the phone. you so desperately want to fix this, and so does sae but he can’t think of anything more selfish than to ask you to wait for him until he’s ready—he knows what’s the right thing to do. it sucks, but he’s made up his mind.
“that’s bullshit, y/n,” he responds, calmly, and you feel him slipping further and further from you.
“i- look, i-i know it’s hard but we can—”
“give it a break, woman,” sae chuckles, low and deep, and you’re beginning to doubt that you know him at all right now. “we’re done.”
the dial tone is all you can hear after that.
twenty years old is where you have your first actual heartbreak.
and all that talk about how time heals all feels like bullshit when you’re right in the middle of it all. five days in and you’re still a wreck. twenty days later and you’re still staring at the pictures you and sae took together. a month passes and you’re visiting the places you went to together. just a sad, pathetic girl crying on the benches, reliving what she once had.
three months later you’re still watching his matches on tv. you’re still cheering for him inside. four months later and it’s sae’s birthday and he doesn’t even respond to your birthday message. half a year after the breakup and you finally stop crying when you think of him.
but it’s easy to delude yourself when you’re not in the presence of what you grieve. because eight months after you broke up, you see reports that sae’s dating a sports photographer. the next few days, a picture is released of them kissing in a restaurant.
then you get glimpses of other girls being able to be intimate with him. other girls getting to taste his lips and feel his love. other girls getting his attention when that right used to solely belong to you.
and you’ve never felt worse.
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“why so glum?”
sae blinks at the woman, indifferent. he can’t even remember her name.
“nadia,” she says, like she’s reading his goddamn mind, holding her hand out. “i’ve been your team’s photographer for a few months now.”
sae shakes her hand out of courtesy because he really doesn’t want his publicist to chew him out again. “didn’t ask.”
“you know, you’re a lot more crabby these days,” she comments, and it’s like he can see the lightbulb going off in her head. “oh, is it girlfriend issues?”
“i don’t have one, so shut it.”
“come on, i promise i’m good at making people forget.” she says this so seductively that sae’s a little disturbed. he just wants to get this shoot done with and go home, maybe even check up on you a little. all in incognito mode, of course, because he can’t risk you knowing he still cares. can’t risk getting your hopes up.
somehow the stars have spent all their time aligning sae’s soccer career and everything else is in tatters because his publicist forces him to take nadia up on her offer and go out with her.
what was supposed to be a one time thing turned out to be something more. she wasn’t even close to you, but she could be close. turns out when he’s not being such a dick, nadia can be moderately interesting.
different, maybe that’s what he needs.
he thinks back to when she kissed him on their first date. sae still finds himself hoping you didn’t see that.
but no, he’s not in love with you anymore. sae’s officially an adult at twenty-one and he’s still the same stubborn guy in denial because he’s looking at pictures of you while nadia’s sitting right next to him.
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it’s not healthy, it really isn’t.
you’re twenty-one now and you’re actually going on a date with the sole intention of trying to get over the one and only itoshi sae.
can you even trust your friend? all you know is that the guy is a friend of a best friend’s and that’s all she told you.
“my best friend’s a good guy, so by extension, so is his best friend,” was all she said.
now you’re here, at the amusement park, waiting for your date to show himself because apparently, in your friend’s bid for suspense, she was reluctant to share anything about him except that he’s dreamy and pretty and that his friend describes him as a genius.
and also “oh, he’s a soccer player too so that’s right up your alley, right?”
when the call from date guy comes in (because to stop you from profiling your date she also didn’t give you his name), you kind of like his voice.
“hey, where are you?”
you find out his name is nagi. and that he’s only here because reo stole his switch and he won’t give it back until the date’s over. which kind of works because you tell him you’re only here because you wanted to get over someone.
to which he says it’s a hassle.
there’s nothing you expect out of this, but then you find yourself enjoying your date.
it’s clear by the first fifteen minutes why nagi chose this place to meet. he’s absurdly good at games. he’s won you tons of plushies that you had to give away to some very happy kids. it’s a pattern; every game that he doesn’t know, he only loses once and then he proceeds to dominate.
no wonder his friend calls him a genius.
with nagi it’s easy, fluid. you’ve been spending the whole night there with him, playing together and eating together—well, mostly it’s just you feeding nagi because it turns out he finds a lot of things a hassle.
three days later, you find out that apparently you’re not a hassle in his books. not really, because he asks you out again.
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it’s irrational.
sae shouldn’t be this bothered, but he is. he hates seeing your stupid updates about how you’re on a date with this nagi guy. he hates seeing your posts with the two of you wearing matching sweaters for christmas.
he gives it a like.
nadia’s already gone. sae doesn’t have time or energy to waste on people that don’t matter. and you shouldn’t matter. not right now. but here he is, wishing the circumstances were different.
if you and nadia switched places. if you had something to bring you to spain. it’s fucking selfish, he knows. doesn’t stop him from wishing for it. he can’t think of anyone else like how he thinks of you. doesn’t want to.
he really is clueless about everything outside of soccer, because he’s twenty-two when he realises that no one could ever make him forget about you, and maybe he should just live with it.
sae turns twenty-three when he’s in the running for being the world’s best midfielder. he’s gotten rid of the hopes of moving on and he’ll just fake it till he makes it.
maybe that’s why this year is particularly special to him. or maybe it’s because for the first time in a long while, you wish him happy birthday.
at midnight, in japan. because you’re thoughtful that way.
this time he responds.
thanks. how r u?
it’s criminal how easy it is for you to get his heart beating like this. he sees you typing and it’s enough to lift his mood.
great, school’s kicking my ass though.
sae finds himself wishing that he could hear your voice right now. for some stupidly non-complex reason that he finds completely absurd.
i saw your match last week, good game, genius.
fuck. after all this time, he still wants you.
his fingers type i miss you, just for the hell of it. just to see it there on his screen before he inevitably deletes it and replaces it with something mediocre like thanks or i know.
because he can’t just say that after being the one who broke things off. he can’t do that when he still thinks it won’t work out.
all he does is sigh and hit the delete button—except fuck, he accidentally hit send. and he would’ve deleted it if you weren’t already online and read it and he sees you typing for a moment before you stop completely and go offline.
sae has never felt more numb.
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it’s been three months since sae said he missed you. you still can’t get that out of your head. the most upfront he’s been about his feelings and he chooses then of all times to be honest?
when your boyfriend was right beside you?
maybe it was your fault. you didn’t even know why you wished him a happy birthday. maybe you missed him too and was just lying to yourself.
god, maybe you’re the asshole in this after all. did you really love nagi? or was he just exceptionally well at making you forget? you really really like him, that’s all you know.
“hey, what’s wrong?” nagi’s looking at you, pushing his hair back, and you can’t help but think you’re lucky to have him these past few months.
but the turmoil inside you wins, and maybe you understand a little bit of how sae felt that night when he broke up with you.
it’s not fair to nagi for you to do this, but it’s not fair to him either to keep him around.
“we need to talk.”
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it’s a surreal feeling, to be back in japan.
sae was nineteen when he left. now he’s twenty-seven when he breathes the tokyo air again. he lugs around his carry-on baggage because he’s not staying here for long. not yet. he’s coming back soon, and he doesn’t really know why. he’s milked everything he could from spain, from the rest of europe, some of the americas, and maybe he’s homesick now.
plain and simple.
the cab driver asks him why he looks so sharp, and he simply says, “wedding.”
it’s been seven years since he broke up with you. and your grip on him is as firm as ever. a grip he’ll never let you know you have on him because he’s made this mistake before—said i miss you and then scared you away.
by the next day he couldn’t even find you online because everything is wiped and maybe you hate him, hate his guts. that’s fine. he can live with that.
to him, you’re still the same lovable person as you were at age five. still the same girl at age sixteen that he fell in love with. you’re still his person and it’s fine if he has to just admire you from afar.
when he arrives, he takes a long hard look around the room, filled with guests socialising and drinking their wines and it’s so pathetic but he’s wondering if you’re still around. he’s late, and it’s his plane’s fault but it’s no use playing the blame game.
“hey,” rin calls out when he sees his brother. “you missed the ceremony.”
“yeah, stupid plane got delayed,” sae says, mind still distracted.
rin formally introduces his new wife to sae and she seems nice, polite, the kind that can put his brother in his place if she needs to. that’s nice. sae can’t help envisioning you in the wedding dress though. you’d look nice.
nicer if he was the one beside you.
“oh! as a gift to my now brother-in-law, i have a friend i want to set you up with,” she grins, and as much of an ass that sae is, he just figures he’ll reject the poor girl later. for now, he’ll entertain his new sister-in-law.
rin claps him on the shoulder before smirking and walking off, presumably to get a drink because no matter how much rin has changed, sae doubts he’ll ever become friendly enough to mingle in this crowd.
sae feels someone poking his shoulder and turns around, first to find his sister-in-law grinning from ear to ear, and next to find you next to her, just like he remembers.
pretty in pink, stupid bashful smile, still fucking beautiful.
“have fun,” rin’s wife says before she walks off with a knowing look. she’s already winning points with sae for bringing you to him.
“hey, genius,” you try to suppress your smile but it’s not working.
he thinks he’s dreaming. he’s not. he’s here. and so are you. and this might just be what he missed all this time.
you hold your hand out and he takes it wordlessly, obediently. sae follows you to the dance floor, trying to calm his erratic heartbeats, savouring the feeling of your hand in his once again, remembering that moment back in autumn when he first felt it.
when you wrap your hands around his neck and he wraps his around your waist, it feels like finally, something is real. like there’s something in this country that can really keep him here this time. because now he’s twenty-seven and he finally understands, he’s always loved you but he’s never been ready until now.
“can’t believe you let your brother get married before you,” you say, sarcasm because you’re breaking into a grin. “he actually beat you at something.”
sae pouts slightly, averting his gaze. “what’s the big deal anyway?”
you shrug. “i’d have thought you’d be the first. maybe with one of the girls you met abroad or something.”
there’s a certain bitterness in your tone that he likes, only because it means you minded all this time. the thought of him with someone else. he suddenly remembers something, and searches the room for a familiar face.
gray eyes meet his teal ones before they turn away, disinterested.
“you sure your boyfriend won’t mind you dancing with your ex?”
“probably not, since i don’t have one.” you smirk, sensing the bitterness in his tone too. it’s funny, seeing sae jealous like this.
he has no reason to though, since you broke up with nagi after being honest with yourself—that you’re not over sae and you probably never will be. you’d decided to just live with your decision.
“shame. thought you guys looked cute in those matching sweaters.”
so that was a jealous like, you think to yourself.
“thought you looked cute with that sports photographer girl too, kissing and all,” you say, though it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “why didn’t that work out?”
for the first time in his life, sae decides to be outright honest with you—
“because she’s not you.” because everytime she said his name, he’d overlay it with your voice in his head. because everytime she’d tried to get close, he’d resent her more for not being you. because no matter how hard anyone tries, they will never be you and that will never work, not for sae.
—to a certain degree.
he’s twenty-seven when he’s finally old enough to understand that it was never a problem with feelings because he’s always loved you all the same all this time. it was just a matter of being ready at the right time. it’s like luck in the world of soccer, where coincidences can only fall to those who are prepared.
and he’s here now. he’s ready.
call him crazy for thinking you’re on the same page because you’re getting closer and closer and closer.
“itoshi sae,” you whisper his name against his lips and he’s reminded of the first time he had you. you drive him crazy and he thinks he’ll keep on letting you. “i missed you too.”
you did. you used to be too young and inexperienced to put yourself in sae’s shoes. too young and naive thinking emotions were enough for two people to stay. sometimes, some things just aren’t meant to be… in the moment. and other times, when you’re both ready, everything suddenly falls into place.
you were sixteen when sae first kissed you. now ten years later, ten years wiser, you kiss again, and this feels significantly better than before. because now you both know.
sae has known you ever since you were three. and he thinks he’ll keep on knowing you, every day, every hour, every minute. he wants to know you forever. and he’s thinking maybe that superstition worked out after all. maybe it was destined to be like this all along.
two people coming together and falling apart only to end up in each other’s arms.
and he thinks fuck superstition, fuck the white cats and solar eclipses and everything else. even if things threaten not to work, this time he’ll make it work.
sae’s known you for so long he overlooked one simple thing. when he kisses you even deeper and is greeted with your lips smiling against his, he knows.
he hasn’t become the world’s best soccer player yet, but when he does, you’ll be by his side.
one day those paper rings the both of you played with when you were little would be real.
you’ve always been special, and you always will be.
now he’s finally home.
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dazednmatthews · 2 months
Text
neighbor!chris x reader: fight night (part eleven point five)
a/n: surprise!!! everyone say thank you cherrie :p
if someone asked y/n how she was feeling ten seconds ago, her answer would’ve been amazing.
in those last ten seconds however, between the sixth, no seventh.. maybe eighth shot glass her and nick had slammed back down on to the bar top, she had been faced with temptation at its finest.
amber, the same bitch who was the cause of the unwavering heartbreak y/n had been facing for the last two weeks, was standing in the corner of the bar with two other girls. she hadn’t noticed y/n yet, didn’t even know that her ass was five seconds away from kissing the ground.
“i hate how good alcohol tastes after the first four drinks,” nick sighs happily, flagging the bartender down once again and putting two drink orders for him and his friend in.
“mhm.” y/n isn’t listening in the slightest, having an inner tug of war with the angel and devil sat on her shoulders. she wanted to go up and sock the bitch, but she also knew that nothing good could come from that.
“you are so not listening to me. who are we looking at-“ nick, who finally notices his best friend’s aloofness, turns his head. once his eyes connect with the source of y/n’s silent rage, they widen.
“no way that bitch is here right now.” he scoffs, sliding the new drink in front of her.
“i really want to hit that bitch.”
nick hums in agreement for her. “i know you do. but let’s maybe not start a riot in this bar right now.”
and with that, y/n really tries to let it go. she really tries to sip her drink and keep it pushing. but as soon as she’s about to turn away, amber’s eyes meet hers and her face twists into the nastiest look she could muster.
and with that, y/n is whipping her phone out and sending a preliminary text to chris, because she knows how this is about to go.
“oh no, y/n—“ nick starts, but she cuts him off. “stay here.”
nick has only seen her this mad maybe twice, so the ferocity in her tone roots him to his spot. he watches closely and very drunk from afar though, making sure he can see her at all times just in case.
amber turns in her seat, watching y/n approach. the sneer on her face is lethal, and if y/n was anyone else, she might just be afraid.
too bad she’s not.
“amber.” the girl says, trying to keep her rage at bay. “horrible to see you as always.”
“yeah, same to you, y/n.” the way she says the name makes y/n’s blood boil.
it’s quiet for a second. the two girls amber is with are looking nervously from girl to girl with bated breath. everyone in a 5 foot radius can tell this is a hostile situation.
it’s quiet for a second. the two girls amber is with are looking nervously from girl to girl with bated breath. everyone in a 5 foot radius can tell this is a hostile situation.
“i heard you had a lot to say to chris about me,” y/n smiles sarcastically. “anything you’d care to share?”
the other girl shrugs. “not really much to say about a slut that thinks it okay to steal another girls boyfriend.”
a laugh forces it’s way out of y/n’s chest. “boyfriend is a bit of an exaggeration don’t you think?” y/n taps her chin, pretending to think. “last i heard, you were a desperate sneaky link that got dumped by someone who gave you a boundary you didn’t like. how sad.”
amber’s mouth drops. “excuse me?”
y/n, against her better judgement, steps forward. “i also heard that i’m supposed be watching my back. for what exactly?” she raises an eyebrow. “i’m right here. what’s gonna happen, amber?”
the taunt makes the girl’s cheeks go red, but she stays silent. so y/n continues to talk her shit. “next time you think you’re big and bad enough to text my man talking shit about me or feel comfortable enough to talk crazy to him, i’ll make you regret it.”
“is that a threat?”
y/n shakes her head. “a promise, actually.”
amber kicks off the wall, ducking her head slightly to get in y/n’s face. “you think you’re cute, huh?” her eyes are gleaming. y/n can feel the anger rising, her vision starting to blur at the edges. she’s on thin ice, she thinks, blowing a breath through her lips. she clenches her fingers around the drink in her hand.
“think you’re some big prize just because chris stopped being a whore long enough to decide you’re more interesting than you’re worth? chris will get bored of you, eventually, just like he always does.” amber’s eyes are frenzied. she looks like she’s about to snap, so naturally, y/n goes for the kill.
while shaking her head, y/n sucks her teeth. “maybe that would’ve bothered me three weeks ago, but things are different now. just like chris told you, me and you are not the same.” y/n sends a deadly smirk her way. “i don’t have to lie about anything to get a boyfriend. i would never have to make up stories about a guy because i couldn’t accept the truth. i would never purposefully try to ruin someone’s happiness because i’m a pathetic, lonely bitch.”
y/n wouldn’t say she’s a fighter exactly. she’s known for her snark and her sass, but she wouldn’t explicitly say that she likes to fight. being so good with her words, she believes that only in extremities do situations need to escalate to being physical.
this is one of those times.
the second the words come out her mouth, amber is launching her drink into y/n’s face. as the liquid settles on her skin and in her hair, she lets out a strangled noise, taking a second to finish the drink in her own hand, vaguely registering her best friends “oh fuck no!”, before she’s swinging her fist so fast, amber has no time to defend herself.
across the room, nick is firing texts to chris at the speed of light, watching in proud admiration as y/n is hurling punches that he doesn’t doubt for a second feel like bricks. he’d been on the receiving end once or twice and that bitch can swing.
he knows his friend is fine, considering amber is only screaming, crying and throwing the weakest hits he’d ever seen. it’s only when he sees a security guard grab y/n a little too aggressively for his liking is he shoving his phone in his pocket and running up to the chaos in front of him.
“get the fuck off of her!”
while all this is happening, chris and matt have parked the car and are somewhat running to the entrance. chris can hear yelling and chairs scraping against the floor and nick’s incessant “fuck you, fuck you, fuck you” chant all the way at the front.
he shoves through the crowd, not listening to a security guard still asking for ID despite the madness.
matt and him exchange a look as they see both nick and y/n in the middle of the scuffle. they separate immediately and despite wanting to laugh a little bit at the sight of his girl absolutely beating the shit out of his old… whatever, he doesn’t.
he grabs y/n by the waist, yanking her back and throwing her over his shoulder, one hand at the bottom of her ass, shielding the hem of her dress from the room.
“what the fu- chris put me down!”
she’s kicking and hitting his back as he makes a beeline for the exit, but his hold only tightens. “no can do, ali.”
y/n only grumbles, not amused by his joke. once they’re all the way back at the car, chris releases her, caging her body between himself and the car.
“stupid fucking bitch. throwing her drink in my fucking face.” her fury is palpable. there’s a few small scratches on her neck, but other than that, she’s basically unscathed. not that he doubted her for a second.
y/n is still angrily rambling while chris runs his hands through her hair, smoothing down her dress as well. when he’s finished, she looks up at him, and he smirks. “got it all out of your system?”
she shakes her head. “i could use another round or two.”
he laughs, bright and full. “i’m sure you could. she definitely can’t though.”
before she can start cursing again, chris cups her face. “have i ever told you that you’re incredibly sexy when you’re mad?”
y/n calms slightly, finally smiling a little. she rolls her eyes shoving his chest. “you think i’m sexy no matter what.”
“guilty.”
he kisses her then, slow and sweet. she melts into him fully, grabbing onto his jacket for support. the moment is tender regardless of the circumstances around it. but then, in all her drunk distractedness, y/n slips her tongue into his mouth and there’s a tangible shift.
not too much can happen, much to chris’ disappointment though, because matt and nick can be heard about ten feet away.
“i don’t give a fuck, matt! i wasn’t just going to let that big bitch grab her like that!”
“i get it nick.” matt says, exasperatedly, “but you literally cannot be going around starting bar brawls.”
“oh well,” nick looks ahead then, noticing his brother and best friend. “y/n! we won that shit so bad.”
y/n laughs, nodding her head. she looks back at chris, who of course is already looking down at her with that special look in his eyes.
“yeah,” she says, secret smile on her lips. “i’m definitely feeling like a winner tonight.”
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hajoon-iz-won · 3 months
Text
Magnetic Force of a Man
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smut 18+ mdni
Pairing: ceo!Jay x worker!Y/N
"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.
"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.
Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, dom!Jay, impregnation, dirty talk, fingering, pussy fucking, female masturbation, age gap (4 years), exhibitionism, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie
Word Count: 5.4k
"You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I cursed as I stared down at the tear in my brand new sheer pantyhose. "Run-proof my ass! "
Shaking my head in dismay, I quickly looked around the large underground parking garage, praying to God that no one could see or hear me as I hurriedly positioned myself between my front door and the driver's seat of my beige sedan, hiking my lavender pencil skirt up to my ass, and then slid the ruined pair of hose the rest of the way down my legs.
Thankfully, I packed an extra pair!
I sat down on the side of the car seat and removed my violet high heels, almost like I was pulling out the replacements, taking them from the packing and quickly began slipping my feet inside.
The voice of a man said abruptly, "Yes, that's right."
My breath caught in my throat, I paused and turned to see the source of the voice. I was stunned by what I saw and halted abruptly, my new pantyhose halfway up my legs.
He had a great appearance. He was sitting at least fifty feet away from me, yet I could still see the platinum shine of his watch as he raised his left arm to check the time. He was dressed elegantly in a navy blue suit. His shiny black low-cut hair must have reached at least five eleven" in height.
With a dark satchel clasped in his right hand, he confidently walked towards the elevator labeled "PRIVATE." His broad shoulders, confident gait, and commanding presence evoked the image of a male model seen in GQ publications. His whole demeanor was confident.
I could tell that he was chatting to someone else and not about me or my pantyhose dilemma when a blue light blinked next to his ear. He never even gave me a sidelong glance.
I eventually snapped back to reality as he slid behind one of the pillars and finished pulling on my pantyhose. I tucked my skirt in and put my stilettos back on, eager to begin my first day of training as an executive assistant for Park Industries within the enormous, imposing Park Business building. (It seems the corporation required more than one because it was so large.)
I'd never seen or heard of Jay Park, the CEO of the company, before applying for this job. Even though I had looked him up online, all the pictures I could find of him included him wearing dark sunglasses and hats, which made me think he was probably a very secretive person. It appeared that he would much rather maintain a very low profile than be in the spotlight.
Nothing could have prepared me for the day I visited the Park Building for the first time, even though I had finished an internship at a Fortune 500 corporation close to my college campus.
My first interview had been with a woman named Son Eunsaem. She'd had a highly professional appearance and a no-nonsense attitude. She hadn't smiled once during the interview.
I was surprised when I got a call back for a second interview. That was where I met the other executive assistants. Park Industries had an executive assistant for each and every department in the company, and I had applied to the marketing department.
And I started working on the actual job today. At nine o'clock, I had my official orientation meeting, and then I was meant to meet with Jay Park, the company's CEO.
On their first day of work, all new hires were required to meet with the CEO, who was said to like having face-to-face meetings with each and every one of his staff members. I'll admit that I was anxious, but I was also interested to see this billionaire's true appearance.
The thirty-story building housed the marketing department on its twenty-fifth floor. At the orientation, there was another new hire in addition to me. Ryu Hanbin was his name, and he had been employed in the software department.
At orientation, our ID cards were issued to each of us. We were granted entry to the elevators, break facilities, and exits reserved for employees only. My heart started to race inside my chest as the orientation was coming to a conclusion.
Hanbin and I were taken to a private employee elevator and showed how to use our ID cards to operate it. Jay Park's office was on the top floor, and that's where our orientation leader, a middle-aged woman named Won Chaerin, led us up.
As the elevator door opened at the pinnacle floor, we had been greeted with the aid of using a short, stout, but very neat and well-groomed bald guy with a cleanly-shaven face in a vibrant purple pantsuit.
"Welcome to Park Land,” he stated with a welcoming grin as he reached out to shake our hands. "That's what we name the pinnacle floor, right here." He appeared to laugh after each sentence he spoke. “My call is Jinyoung, however all of us right here calls me Jin.” Another laugh.
What a unusual guy, I thought.
He led us down a hallway that ended with a reception table and a small living room area. There had been high-returned black leather-based chairs and a large flat-display tv withinside the ready area. There additionally regarded to be a bar of a few kind in the back of the reception table.
"Y'all can simply make yourselves comfortable whilst I allow Mr. Park recognize you are right here,” he instructed us with every other laugh earlier than sashaying returned to his spot in the back of the reception table.
"Thank you,” I instructed him as I took a seat in one of the leather-based chairs and crossed my legs.
As I sat ready, my heart commenced to overcome so rapid that it felt like it'd leap up out of my throat at any second. A stolen look over at Hanbin noticed his foot nervously tapping in opposition to the carpeted floor, and I felt relieved that I wasn't the simplest worried individual withinside the room.
A second later, the telephone on Jin's table rang, and he spoke back it on speaker.
"Send Ms. Y/L/N in first,” the voice said in a deep, authoritative tone.
"Right away, sir," Jin answered as he glanced over towards me.
I stood up and accompanied him down but every other lengthy hallway, with stylish artwork lining the partitions and porcelain statues each few feet.
At the quit of the hall, there has been a fancy-searching door with a platinum door knob.
"Knock, knock,” Jin said in a singsong-like voice as he knocked on it twice before turning the knob and pushing it open. “Ms. Y/L/N, meet Mr. Jay Park.”
He waited for me to step inside the large, elaborately decorated office before shutting the door behind me.
I stood there, with my back to the door and my orientation folder in my hand, not sure what to do next. Mr. Park had his head down and was doing something on his phone, but as soon as the door closed, he looked directly up at me, and my jaw almost hit the floor in utter awe.
Jay Park was none other than the sexy, model-esque man who'd been walking through the employee parking garage earlier.
I knew I was staring, but I didn't care. The man was a real-life Adonis.
"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N. Come. Have a seat.”
It was more of an order than a request, but I didn't mind. He had the most hypnotizing pair of eyes. They were a deep, dark br, and I felt as if I could get lost in them if I stared too long.
He didn't smile, but he didn't frown. He was eyeing me curiously as I made my way over to the chair in front of his huge, rectangular desk. I felt as if he was sizing me up for something... something other than just this job position.
"So, Ms. Y/L/N, you are twenty-four and you have an MS in Business Management. Impressive. What are your plans in the next five years?”
I felt completely on the spot. I cleared my throat before speaking.
"Well, I'm hoping to be working a job I love, maybe get promoted, and start moving up in the ranks."
"Hmm," he said quietly.
I leaned forward a bit and noticed that he had a folder open with my resume, cover letter, and some photos of me inside.
"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.
My heart sped up and began to beat harder than ever. He had removed his suit jacket, and his white silk shirt hugged his toned upper body with flair, accenting the broadness of his shoulders.
I shook my head and swallowed hard as my body temperature began to rise. No man had ever had such a profound effect on me. I could actually feel heat starting to build within my core and a noticeable tingling between my thighs.
He walked around to the back of my chair and stood behind me. My heart was beating a billion beats per minute.
"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.
I shuddered at the feel of his breath against my lobe. My body was completely on fire for this man, and he hadn't even touched me. I was at a loss for words.
I wanted to glance up at him, but I was frozen in place like a stone statue, and all I could do was sit there facing forward as I waited to see what was going to happen next. From behind me, I heard him inhale deeply and then exhale slowly.
“Ahh, your perfume is intoxicating, but I sense something else about you, Ms. Y/L/N. You are in your prime,” he stated sensuously, his voice barely more than a whisper.
His lips were so close to my neck that his breath felt hot against my skin. It caused a shiver to run down my spine, and I had to muster every ounce of strength to keep a moan from escaping my lips.
Then, suddenly, he stood straight up and walked back around to the other side of his desk, and his demeanor had returned to a strictly professional one.
"Mrs. Son was quite impressed with you and spoke very highly of your interview," he said plainly as he sat back down in his chair.
"Really? Wow," I replied.
"You sound surprised," he said with a slight grin. "I know she can come across as somewhat ‘rigid, but it's all just part of how she does her job. She's extremely professional and would make an excellent poker player, no doubt.”
He chuckled slightly at his comment, and I uttered a small giggle as well.
"Well, I'm certain you'll be a definite asset to Park Industries, Ms. Y/L/N. Welcome to the team,” he said with a smile.
His smile revealed a set of the most perfect pearly whites I had ever seen up close. While staring at them, I almost missed the fact that he'd also extended his hand to me.
"Thank you, Mr. Park,” I said nervously, returning his smile with one of my own.
"You have a lovely smile, Ms. Y/L/N," he stated softly, still holding onto my hand after I'd stopped shaking it.
“Thanks,” I said coyly, tearing my eyes away from his before I became completely lost in them.
He ran his thumb slowly across the side of my hand before finally letting it go. That small, simple touch from him only added more fuel to the fire that was already building in my loins.
“Ms. Y/L/N? ”He called out to me just as I was about to leave his office.
"Yes?" I replied, turning around to look at him one more time.
"I'm having a small meeting this evening at the Italy Garden restaurant. The dress code is semi-formal. Can you be ready by 7:00?”
"Uhh, yes. Certainly, Mr. Park,” I replied, caught completely off guard.
"Great. I'll send a car to your place at 7:00, then.”
I left his office feeling flustered in more ways than one. It had been more than a year since I'd last had sex, and my attraction to Mr. Park was anything but subtle. He had a magnetic effect on me, one that I knew I was incapable of fighting.
I walked swiftly down the hall, past the small lounge where Hanbin was still seated, and into the ladies' restroom directly adjacent to Jin's reception desk. Breathing hard, I went into one of the stalls, set my folder down on the back of the commode, hiked my skirt up to my waist, and yanked my pants down to my thighs.
Panting like an animal in heat, I sat down on the seat and spread my legs.
"Mmm," I muttered as I closed my eyes and placed my right hand on the crotch of my thin satin pants.
Yanking my pants to the side, I exposed my moist, partially-swollen bud and began to massage it. Another moan escaped my lips as I bucked my hips and rubbed my pussy faster and harder.
I imagined that Mr. Park was in the bathroom stall with me and that he had pulled my pants to the side. It was his lips and tongue against my throbbing, swollen bulb, causing sighs and moans of delight to escape my mouth and sending me into a frenzy of pleasure.
“Ohhh,” I murmured softly as I pictured him rubbing the head of his hard, pulsating cock against my slick, hot slit.
I imagined his hands grabbing my ass cheeks and squeezing them hard in a fit of primal, uncontrollable passion. I pictured him entering me slowly at first, until his rock-hard dick was deep inside my pussy, stretching me to the limit.
"Fuuuck," I whispered as I plunged my fingers as deep into my warm, wet tunnel as they would go. "Yesss! Fuck me, Mr. Park!"
I imagined his cock moving in and out of me, faster and harder, fucking like wild animals as we both got closer and closer to our climaxes. Completely and totally engulfed in how unbelievably good the sex felt, neither one of us even cared that we were fucking unprotected.
"I want you to cum inside me, Mr. Park,” I imagined telling him. “Oh fuck, yessss! Cum in my pussy! Fill me up with your cum."
I didn't even care if I got pregnant or not; I just needed to feel his hot cum inside of me.
I was right on the brink of my orgasm, and I could already tell it was going to be a really good one. As I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out in pleasure, I pictured myself biting down on Mr. Park's ear to stifle my passion-filled moans.
My legs began to shake, and my hips bucked uncontrollably as a powerful climax wracked my entire body. I imagined Mr. Park squeezing my ass cheeks hard as his cock squirted into my cunt, filling me to the brim.
"Ohhh," I whispered, uttering a sigh of satisfaction as my orgasm began to wane.
After taking a moment to enjoy the afterglow, I quickly cleaned myself up, left the restroom, and headed back down to the 25th floor to finish out my workday.
I had just finished putting on my makeup when I noticed it was 6:45. The dress I had selected for tonight's meeting was a long, form-fitting silver cocktail gown I'd bought last spring. It was elegant, with a touch of sex appeal. The back dipped below the waist, and the front wrapped around the neck.
At 6:54, I heard a horn blow outside of my apartment. I slid into a pair of silver stiletto sandals, grabbed a small silver purse, and headed outside.
"Wow!" I exclaimed when I saw the pearly white stretch limousine waiting at the curb.
A tuxedo-clad chauffer opened my door for me and helped me into the back seat.
The inside of the limousine was immaculate! There was a fully-stocked bar with liquor, wine, and champagne. There were wine glasses on a glass shelf next to the bar. There was also a small fridge with fruits, cheeses, and other exotic-looking snack foods.
I helped myself to a glass of champagne and turned on the satellite radio to listen to on the way to the restaurant.
When we arrived about twenty minutes later, the chauffeur helped me out of the limo, and I walked inside. An older male host in a black and white suit was standing at a podium near the entrance.
"Good evening, Madam. Welcome to the Italy Garden restaurant. Do you have a reservation?” he asked.
“Umm, yes. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here for a dinner meeting with Mr. Jay Park,” I replied anxiously, trying hard to hide how nervous I truly was.
The five-star dining facility was way out of my league and price range. I had never been in a place so upscale and fancy. There were scores of expensive-looking pictures hanging on the walls and exquisite artifacts and statues in and around the corners.
I followed the host to a luxurious VIP balcony area where Jay Park was already seated and waiting for me.
"You look amazing, Ms. Y/L/N," he said, flashing that billion-dollar smile that made me want to melt right where I stood.
"Thank you," I replied shyly, returning a smile his way.
The host pulled out my chair, and I sat down.
"I've taken the liberty to order us a bottle of the finest champagne this place has to offer,” he told me with a grin. “What are you in the mood for?”
I couldn't pronounce a single dish on the menu.
"I'll have whatever you're having," I said softly, closing my menu and setting it to the side. I didn't want to risk embarrassing myself in front of our waiter.
"This champagne is delightful," I exclaimed before taking another sip.
"Only the best for a woman as perfect as you, Y/N," Jay stated sweetly.
It was the first time he'd ever called me by my first name. I could feel my cheeks reddening as I smiled somewhat sheepishly.
"So where are the rest of the meeting attendees?” I asked inquisitively as I glanced around the area we were seated in.
"This meeting is just for you and me, Y/N," Jay said in a sultry tone of voice. "There's something about you, Y/N, that drives me crazy. Ever since you walked into my office, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."
I felt the same way about him. He was definitely the most attractive, magnetic, and alluring man I had ever met. I was just too shy to tell him so.
Dinner was absolutely incredible. The food was delicious, and I'd probably had a bit more champagne than I'd actually intended to drink. After a perfect meal, Jay led me back out to the limousine, and we both got into the backseat.
As we talked about our backgrounds, childhoods, and future plans while drinking top shelf champagne, I suddenly remembered that I hadn't even asked him where we were headed. Before I could even form the words to inquire, the limo slowed to a stop.
"Where are we?" I asked, just as the chauffeur opened the door.
“My place,” Jay replied with a grin. “I hope that's okay with you. There's something I want to show you."
Normally, I would have thought twice about going to the home of a man I'd just met, but there was just something about Jay that made him all but irresistible to me.
His house was beyond magnificent. The outside of it took up damned-near an entire city block, and the front yard stretched out around the sides of the house. There was a huge, circular, paved driveway at the front, and the limo had stopped directly in the middle.
I couldn't even imagine what it was he wanted to show me. I felt both excited and anxious simultaneously.
Taking my hand inside his, he proceeded to lead me through his humongous residence, showing me all of the different paintings and other extraordinary decor and informing me of the countries from which they'd been ordered. Finally, we came to this nice, dimly lit room with a beautiful faux fireplace against the rear wall. My eyes widened in amazement as we entered the romantic-looking space hand-in-hand.
"Wowww!" I exclaimed, as I had done several hundred times since we'd first gotten out of the limo. "This room is so..."
“Enchanting? ”Jay stated in a questioning tone, finishing my exclamation for me.
"Yeah! Definitely!” I agreed as I looked around in bewilderment.
There was a bar counter in the far left area of the room and what appeared to be a fully-stocked mini bar behind it. A lavish-looking cream-colored sectional sofa was in the middle of the space, facing the fireplace, and there was a huge matching rug laid out in front of it.
Just as I was about to remove my shoes out of respect for the rug, the lights suddenly dimmed lower, and about a hundred faux candles all lit up simultaneously. Also, smooth, relaxing, slow music immediately began to play. The candlelight appeared to dance to the beat of the music.
I was totally speechless and utterly astonished. I had never seen anything like it before. I glanced over at Jay, who had already removed his own shoes and was filling two wine glasses at the built-in mini bar.
"Please, have a seat, Y/N,” he said amorously, nodding toward the sectional.
I sat down and continued to enjoy the ambiance of the supremely romantic setting until he soon came over to join me and placed a glass of champagne in my hand.
"So? Do you like it?" he asked after taking a sip of his drink.
"Like it? This is absolutely amazing!" I said with a huge grin.
"I'm glad you think so. I've never brought any woman into this room until tonight.
"I find that extremely hard to believe,” I said honestly."
I may be a lot of things, Y/N, but I am definitely not a liar,” he asserted. “Men like me don't have to be in order to get what we want."
“Now that, I absolutely do believe,” I replied with a grin. “So, what is it that you want with me? ”
"Ahh, the billion-dollar question," he said sultrily.
Just then, a very popular song began to play.
"Ohh, I love this song!" he said excitedly as he stood up and held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
I didn't refuse. He pulled me upward and into his strong arms, and I wrapped mine around his neck. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and pressed my body against his as we swayed to the music. Caught up in the moment, I felt like I could stay in his arms like that forever.
Then, suddenly, he pulled away for a moment and looked deep into my eyes.
“Y/N, you have it all. I adore your womanly physique, your stunningly bright brown eyes, and the fact that you are a very intelligent young woman. You are damned-near flawless. From the very first moment you walked into my office, I have had an undeniable, overwhelming attraction to you, and I know you feel it too."
I was completely speechless. I mean, what was I supposed to say? How do you even reply to a statement like that?
In all honesty, I was just as attracted to him as he was to me, but with him being both my boss and such a wealthy, sophisticated man, I think I felt a little bit intimidated. I'd never imagined myself being wined and dined with a billionaire Adonis like him.
I just kind of stood there, gazing into his tantalizing eyes like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.
"Y/N,” he whispered as he suddenly spun me around so that he was behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
"Yes," I whispered back to him as the feeling of his warm breath against the nape of my neck instantly made me moist between my thighs.
I moaned as his soft lips brushed against the lobe of my him,. My body was instantaneously on fire for him and he had barely touched me.
"I want you," he whispered as his manly hands found my breasts and cupped them through the thin fabric of my cocktail dress.
The tips of his fingers found my nipples, causing another moan to escape my mouth. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, and then suddenly, my dress slid carelessly to the floor. I was braless, and this seemed to turn Jay on even more.
He groaned as I felt his manhood begin to stiffen against my ass.
"Y/N, you're fucking perfect,” he said gruffly, his voice raspy against my ear. “I want you. And you want me, too, don't you?
"Yes, Jay, yes," I moaned.
His hands squeezed my breasts, and I sighed loudly, arching my back. I felt his stiffening cock twitch in his pants.
"I'm twenty-eight years old, and I'm not getting any younger, Y/N. I've been looking for the right woman to bear my offspring, and you are the perfect specimen. I know you probably walked into the Park building today with your own plans and aspirations for your career and whatnot, but I have to be honest with you; I want you to bear my children.”
It was a lot to take in. He had certainly said a mouthful. I wasn't so sure about having kids with a man I'd just met, but he was definitely different from any other man I'd ever met, and odds were that I'd probably never meet anyone quite like him again.
His right hand slid down my midsection and into the front of my satin pants. I hissed with delight, biting down on my lip to stifle my cry of pleasure. He was applying just the right amount of pressure to my bud, and I was grinding my crotch against his hand.
"Don't hold back, Y/N,” he ordered in a breathy voice. “Let it all out!”
With that, he slid two fingers inside my dripping-wet pussy. I thrust my hips forward and let out a cry.
“Fuck, your pussy is already so wet for me! ”He declared with a grunt, pressing his erection against my ass.
Just as I was about to climax, he stopped, pulled his fingers out of my pants, and turned me around to face him. He put his fingers in his mouth and sucked my excitement out of them. My face flushed with need.
Then he pushed me down onto my knees as he undid his pants, releasing his stiff, throbbing cock. It was large—larger than I'd expected. It was definitely the biggest dick I'd ever seen in my twenty-four years on this earth. But I didn't care. I was going to try my damnedest to swallow it whole.
I caressed the shaft as I slid my tongue around the tip of his cock, teasing it gently, and then sliding it down into my mouth as far as it would go. I sucked it slowly and easily at first, and then I took my hand and used it with the rhythm of my mouth, sucking it as hard and fast as I could.
Groans fell from Jay's lips as he grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth. Then suddenly, he stopped me.
Easing the rest of the way out of his pants, he pulled me up toward him again and kissed me passionately, using his tongue to invade my mouth hungrily. I moaned as he began to trail his lips and tongue down my neck, pausing to lick, suck, and fondle both of my breasts, and then continuing down my belly until he reached the top of my pants.
With his teeth, he worked my pants down over my hips and buttocks, letting them drop to the floor near my dress. He parted my thighs slightly, using his fingers to slide my folds apart and massage my bud. Then, his lips replaced his fingers against my moist, pulsating pussy, and I cried out in sheer passion.
He was so skilled and talented—his tongue was like a fucking vibrating sex toy! He grabbed and squeezed my ass with one hand and used the other to slide two fingers back inside my pussy. I couldn't take it anymore!
"Fucckkk, I'm going to cum, Jay! I'm going to cum...so...fucking..." I couldn't even finish my sentence. His fingers pressed against my g-spot, and his tongue darted fast and hard against my pussy, sending me completely over the edge with the most powerful, intense, earth-shattering orgasm I had ever experienced.
My entire body shuddered and shook, and my legs tensed up. I grabbed his head as my crotch jerked forward uncontrollably against his face.
"Shiiiiittt! Oh fuuuuck!" I screamed loudly, unable to speak any other words.
When my climax finally began to wane, just as I was about to catch my breath, Jay suddenly lifted my legs up on his shoulders and gently pushed me down onto the soft, cream-colored rug lying me down on my back.
Not wasting a second, he slid his huge, hard cock into me slowly, with my legs still hoisted up on his shoulders.
I moaned long and hard as he stretched me to my limit, sliding deeper into my pussy than any other man had ever been.
“Fuck, Y/N, your pussy's so tight and wet! ," he exclaimed, moaning as he began to thrust in and out of me, going deeper with every stroke.
I was moaning so loudly that I could barely even hear the music playing anymore. His own groans became louder and longer with every thrust of his burly hips.
I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck as he started fucking me harder and faster. It wasn't long before I felt a second orgasm building, getting closer and closer...
I still wasn't exactly certain about letting him impregnate me and make me the mother of his children, but the sex was fucking earth-shattering. I had never been fucked so good before! I felt his huge, stiff cock plunging in and out of me as I cried out in delirious pleasure.
Just as I was about to scream out loud, having reached my second powerful orgasm, he let out a loud, long groan, and I knew he was there, too. We were climaxing together simultaneously, and for a brief moment, it was like the two of us became one in our own world of bliss.
I felt his cock spurting his hot cum deep inside of me, filling my pussy to the brim, but it felt so fucking wonderful that I didn't give a shit. Besides, he was rich and handsome and could fuck like a damn machine.
As we finally came back to our senses, Jay kissed my lips as he slid out of me and plopped down on the rug beside me. The fake fire was still going, and the lights and music were still playing.
"That was, by far, the best sex I've ever had in my life,” I said breathily as I looked over at him.
"Me too," he said sultrily as he slid his arm beneath my neck.
With that, his eyes closed, as did mine, and we both drifted off into a satisfied slumber.
Jay and I continued to fuck like rabbits over the next few weeks, having hot, steamy, amazing sex every chance we got. And every time he came, he shot his hot cum deep inside of me.
Three weeks later, my pregnancy test came back positive. Jay was ecstatic, of course. At first, I had mixed emotions. I was going to become a mother. Was I really ready?
He immediately made me quit my job and put me in a beautiful condo with a view that overlooked the entire city. He found me the best doctors in the area and accompanied me to all of my prenatal appointments.
So I wouldn't be able to work for a while. I mean, babies don't stay babies. They eventually grow up into adults who can take care of themselves. Who knows? Once I've raised my kids, perhaps I'll still want to go back into the workforce.
For now, though, I think I'll just enjoy swelling with Jay's seed, growing rounder and riper by the day.
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voxsmistress · 1 month
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Mama Didn't raise no Bimbo Series!
Y/n was thrown head first into Hell - like everyone she has to find her own path and she was doing pretty darn good but what happens when she finally comes across the three Vee's who don't necessarily like to share...
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen
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This was such a bad idea!
Such a bad idea! How did Angel Dust manage to convince you to do this was beyond you. But here you are gripping the handle of the front door of the Vee’s Tower.
“Oh, I’m just running a little late at work honey, meet me at the tower and we will head to the clubs from there,” you mocked under your breath as you turned the handle. Swear, if that Valentino tries to get you to join a porno you will kill Angel.
Deep breaths. Entering the main foyer, you squint because of all the damn bright lights, screens, and décor. Spying all the cameras you drag your coat closer to your body. No hiding from anyone here. You make your way up to the receptionist desk as instructed by your lovely ‘friend’.
“Hey sugar, I’m here to see Angel Dust, they’re expecting me don’t suppose you could tell me where I should be going could ya?” Giving your best winning smile at the bored receptionist, at her unimpressed flicker of her eyes going over your outfit and hair you could feel the smile start to strain. Like everyone, your appearance changed when you came to Hell, and you considered yourself lucky that you mainly had humanistic characteristics – the fangs, violet eyes, skin as white as snow and wicked pink highlights in your hair you just considered as an extra – it could be so much worse. You have seen much worse.
Smoothing your hands over the coat you let your smile drop and narrowed your eyes at the receptionist. Down here in Hell you were sure others just made situations difficult to be difficult. Actually… that was probably true. They were just the worst down here.
Popping her gum in your face you could feel your eyebrow start to twitch. Bitch. Tapping away on her keyboard she proceeds to ignore you for a few moments before pointing at a sign which told you which floors for what people. Seeing Valentino’s floor, you assume that’s where you should be heading. Thanking the receptionist – though she didn’t exactly do anything but affect your confidence in your outfit – you make your way over to the elevators, getting in as soon as one arrived and jabbing at Valentino’s floor.
Crossing your fingers you wouldn’t meet that particular Overlord, considering the receptionist was a pain in the ass you could only imagine what he would be like and from the horror stories Angel Dust told you – you really didn’t wanna meet him.
Reaching the floor quicker than you expected you straighten out your outfit, slightly regretting the black stilettos but they were the only decent heels you have in your closet for dancing, plus the neon pink on the base matched your accessories and splashes of colour on your dress. You fully embraced the image that you were a bimbo, it helped with tips and your image at work. As a singer and a dancer at one of the clubs on Pride Circle, the dumber you appeared the more people underestimated you. And you just loved it when they underestimated you.
It's where you met Angel Dust, in one of the first clubs that you were working at. Through him you then met Alastor who after hearing you sing a few older songs then allowed you to sing on his Radio Show (on occasion) and from him you then met Rosie who put in a good word for you with your now current boss at one of the more respectable (using that term loosely) clubs in Pride Circle. Which is the only reason why you would enter the Vee’s Tower – you owed Angel Dust a lot this was a small ask.
Stepping onto Valentino’s floor the smell of smoke, sex and sweat hit you like a wall. Flickering your violet eyes around you spied the Spider speaking to the Overlord. Damn. Seeing that the conversation wouldn’t be ending any time soon you huffed under your breath before making your way to them.
“Angel, sugar, you ready to go?” You ask when you reach the two, keeping your gaze on him as from the corner of your eye you see the tall Overlord swivel on the spot. Angel’s eyes connect with yours before trying to hide a grimace.
“Heyyy gorgeous, listen it’s gonna be a little later than we planned I’ve just gotta film one more scene then we can go”, catching the mouthed sorry at the end. Smiling understandingly at him you shrug your shoulders.
“Oh no problemo honey, want me to stay or I can meet you at the club?” secretly crossing your fingers that they’d say to meet you at the club.
“Ah no it’s cool if you stay, right Val? Y/n can stay for the last scene?” Bugger. Turning your winning smile up at the infamous Valentino only to see their stare was focused on you already with an menacing smile pulling his face into a sinister expression which made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end.
“Ah the famous Y/n, Angel talks about you all the time – don’t you baby! Course you can stay and watch. What about if you participate as well, I could get you a job princessa, with those legs, boobs and that pout you are a star waiting to happen. I could get a contract written up in seconds if you want-“He pulls a deep drag from his cigarette and blows it all around so you three were in a cloud of hazy red smoke. Holding back a cough you try to keep the smile on your lips.
“Thank you for the offer, Sir, but I am happy with my job at the moment but as soon as I want a change in career, I’ll let you know”, I reply to the Overlord. A bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck. Valentino’s anger was legendary. To refuse him was to insult him. And you had done all that within a few moments of meeting him. Plus being close to Angel Dust was another factor against you – he was so jealous over Angel.
His smirk grew as he gazed over your outfit. Well, a smirk was better than shouting, right?
“Shame. You could be a star,” another drag of his cigarette before shrugging you off and directing Angel back to the stage. Quickly winking at the spider, you make your way over to a few chairs that were against the wall. Shrugging your coat off you turn to see a few creeps eyeing you up, bloody perverts. Baring your fangs at them you sit down and yank your phone out from your purse.  
A sigh leaves your lips, crossing your leg over the other, you peruse Sinstagram while trying to block out the sounds coming from Angel and the other demons and sinners in the scene. Checking on the progress of a few photos of the outfit that you shared earlier of what you were wearing tonight which you had tagged in Velvette as she was the designer of your dress: a tight black dress with stripes of neon pink, ruffles of the neon around the off-shoulder neckline and other intricate details – it reminded you of Marilyn Monroes pink dress, so you had saved up for months to buy it. The almost velvet material clung to your curves in the most delicious way and the colours just accentuated your hair, skin, and eyes. If no one could tell - you just loved pink and again it helped the Bimbo image you put across.
Brushing the waves of hair out of your face you look up and again see a certain Overlord’s stare focused on you, his own phone clutched in his hand. Careful not to challenge him by looking at him head on you keep your gaze soft and lowered.  The issue with Valentino was he didn’t always accept no as an answer. And you were so not ready to become a porn star. To be honest since arriving in Hell you hadn’t even entertained any one in your bed. More concerned with getting somewhere safe to live, safe(ish) to work and try not to get mauled, raped or murdered every day seemed to take up your energy. Which is why Angel wanted to go out tonight – to try and get you laid. Chuckling softly as you remembered his horrified face when you said you hadn’t had sex in over a year you let your violet gaze glance over to him. Wincing slightly at the position he was in at the moment, which really could not be comfortable, you let your attention go back to your phone ignoring both the Overlord and Angel as a slight vibrate notified you that a certain Vee had liked your post.
Your mouth opens in shock when you see THE Velvette had liked your photo. Heart racing a little you couldn’t control the smile that stretched across your lips, holding in the little squeal you desperately wanted to let out you settled for giving a little excited wiggle in your seat. Or you were until a shadow encased you. Looking up you lock eyes with the main V. Vox. Uh oh. “And who is this lovely lady, Val?”
Sooooo ... for a first chapter what did ya thinkkkkkk?
A03 Link is here
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reiderwriter · 10 months
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🃏That's What You Get 🃏Series Masterlist
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“Y/N, there wouldn’t happen to be a ring on that hand, would there?” Spencer still isn’t looking at you, instead he's staring intently at whatever else is in his hands.  “What? No, I don’t wear a ring on this hand-” you cut yourself off abruptly as you look down and see it. There on the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that is still chained to the bed by your partners handcuffs, is a ring. There’s a ring on your ring finger. You just woke up in Las Vegas with no memory, in your coworkers room, naked, with a ring on your ring finger.  Your heart drops to your ass as you snap your head back around to Spencer, who finally works up the courage to look you in the eye.  “I think you should look at this” he stutters out and finally presents you with the other item he pulled out of the draw. Your jaw drops open and the pounding in your head turns into a continuous buzzing as you see yourself presented with a marriage liscence. Pinned to the corner with a paperclip is a polaroid picture, and you recognise yourself and your clothes from the night before, with the addition of a veil and bouquet, your arms slung around Reid’s neck as he pulls you in for what you can assume was a pretty passionate kiss.  “Y/N I think we got married last night.”
Summary: After a long case in Las Vegas, all the BAU team wants is to go home. But fate, or at least a timely storm, has other ideas. Stuck for another 24 hours in the City of Sin, you enlist the help of Spencer Reid to guide you through a night of relative debauchery, but when you wake up in the morning, you make a discovery you weren't expecting...
A/N: Hello, and welcome to my first planned series! I'm so excited to write this one, and I hope you'll enjoy reading it! The first few chapters will be mostly SFW but the later chapters will be pretty smut heavy, so please look forward to that! I'm hoping to make this a weekly upload from now until the end of October but I'm pretty impatient so it might be a bi-weekly thing instead 🫣 Below the cut is a link to the chapters and the date you can be ecoectknf to see them on!
Sign up for the series taglist here!
My requests are open, and you can check out the rest of my masterlist here!
CHAPTER ONE - Can't Take My Eyes Off of You
CHAPTER TWO - The Thought of You Makes Me Weak
CHAPTER THREE - You'd Be Like Heaven To Touch
CHAPTER FOUR - Trust in Me When I Say
CHAPTER FIVE - There Are No Words Left to Speak
CHAPTER SIX - To Warm a Lonely Night
CHAPTER SEVEN - Let Me Love You
CHAPTER EIGHT - Pardon The Way That I Stare
CHAPTER NINE - You're Just Too Good to Be True
CHAPTER TEN - Please Let Me Know That It's Real
CHAPTER ELEVEN - Now That I Found You Stay
CHAPTER TWELVE - At Long Last Love Has Arrived
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lixzey · 3 months
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sincerely, yours.
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luke castellan x fem athena!reader
summary: in which Luke receives love letters from a secret admirer.
1.4k words
warnings, i guess?: pre tlt!!! reader has a huge ass crush on luke, reader is weird around luke (like any normal person around their crush), love letters, secret admirer, reader is kinda stalker-ish (maybe all athena kids are lol), reader is friends with silena and clarisse, camp golden boy luke!!! reader has GRAY EYES like every other child of Athena, as this is a key note in the story but i'll leave the hair color out for you guys 🫶🏻
ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE
“Handsome, you're a mansion with a view.”
“Hey, Luke?” Chris Rodriguez calls out to his older brother, brows knitted in confusion, as he walks towards the head of cabin eleven, who was helping their brothers—Travis and Connor—fix their armor for Capture the Flag in just a few more minutes. 
“Yeah?” Luke hums, his eyes not leaving the younger Stoll’s as he finishes the strap of Connor’s armor. “What is it?”
“Someone left this on your bed,” Chris answered, pulling out a tea-colored envelope from his pocket and giving it to the older boy. “It has your name on it.”
Luke pats Connor on the shoulder. “Trav, go and get shields and swords from the armory with Connor.” The eldest Stoll nodded, while the youngest opened his mouth to talk, but Luke got ahead of him. “No, Connor, you can’t have a flaming arrow. Now get over there!” He chuckles, playfully shoving the brothers away with a grin.
As soon as the two leave—Connor huffing about the flaming arrow—Luke turns to face Chris. “Who’s it from?” He asks, eyeing the envelope in Chris’ hand.
Chris shrugged. “I don’t know; it wasn't signed. It just had your name.”
“Huh,” Luke grabs the envelope from Chris’ hold, his eyes searching for any information. Instead, a pink heart wax stamp greeted him.
“You got another admirer?” Chris smirks, playfully nudging Luke. “Oh, to be you, huh? Girls here and there.”
Luke glares at Chris. “Shut up,”
“But that’s a first. A love letter. You think it’s from one of the Aphrodite kids?” Chris grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “Explains the pink heart.”
“You talk too much, don’t you?” Luke groaned, shaking his head. “Go follow the Stolls; make sure they don’t burn the armory down. I’ll follow.”
Chris rolls his eyes, chuckling slightly. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave you with your love letter.”
“Go,” Luke huffs, shoving his brother out the door.
“Geez, lover boy, stop pushing me!” Chris laughed as Luke pushed him again. “Okay, okay, I’ll go!” He chuckles, raising his hands up in surrender. “See you at the creek!”
Luke rolls his eyes, shaking his head as Chris runs off. He then turns his attention to the envelope in his hand, with his name written in perfect cursive in bright pink. If Luke wasn’t quick to jump to conclusions, he’d assume that an Aphrodite kid probably sent the letter. The pink ink was a dead give-away. But there was a small voice in the back of Luke’s mind saying otherwise.
The Hermes counselor sighs before making his way to his bed. Maybe there he could find anything else related to the mysterious admirer. Luke plopped down onto his bed, torn between ripping the envelope open or gently opening it in fear of tearing anything else that was inside.
With a shake of his head, Luke slowly opened the tea-stain envelope, the smell of old books and jasmine invading his nostrils as he gently pulled the paper out.
Dear Luke, 
I love you. 
Oh gods, where do I even begin to explain that?
Okay, so I have liked—no, loved—you since I was thirteen and you were fourteen. I know a lot of girls like you, even boys. I’m not even half of those who do. I’m just, well, me. A girl who you’d never give a second glance at. 
This is utterly stupid, honestly. Taking the risk to write this letter to you when you and I literally live in camp all year round. But, I guess, who cares? I mean, I’m already here writing this, so why back out now?
I remember the first time I saw you. Handsome, you’re a fucking mansion with a view. You were out in the arena, training with Marco Leon. It was the day after you and Annabeth arrived at camp. You were so good, deserving the title of ‘the best swordsman’ camp has seen in three hundred years. Your dark curls looked like a halo as you sparred with him, a mischievous look in your eyes as they shined like ambers underneath the golden rays of sunlight. From that day on, I knew I was in trouble. Everything about you captivates me—a secret no one knows. 
Every time you’re around, my heart beats too fucking fast, like a pegasus galloping in the wind. You make the butterflies in my stomach flutter like crazy, you make my palms get sweaty, and my words fail me, leaving me a stuttering mess when you’re near and you aren’t even talking to me. See what you do to me? I’ve never thought I would fall head over heels for someone so completely and so effortlessly.
You make the angels in heaven dance and sing hymns. Each time I look at you, wedding bells ring inside my head. You make me want more and more of you. I just can't think straight when you're in my head; even writing your name makes my cheeks turn red. You make me smile in so many ways, to the point that it isn’t even funny anymore. You are my favorite everything. I’ve been telling my friends that since I was fifteen. 
I get jealous when I see someone who gets close to you and flirts with you. I just can’t explain how annoyed—angry—I get when they try to get your attention when I have no right to be. There’s just something about you. I can’t pinpoint it, but it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.
Do you think if I wished on every dandelion in the world, you’d be mine? It would be a dream come true, of course. But in reality? You would never notice me. Like I said before, I’m just a girl you’d never take a second glance at. I’d forever be in the shadow of everyone else, hidden far away in the darkness.
You take my breath away, Luke Castellan. I don’t know how, but, fuck, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
sincerely,
yours
Luke stared at the letter for a few seconds, still trying to understand the words he had just read. He knew that girls liked him, but he never had someone send him a love letter, let alone a detailed one.
“Who are you?” Luke muttered, his eyes going back and forth through the letter, wondering who the girl was who’d written the letter. Something about her words made him want to find her, but the letter wasn’t signed. No name, no cabin, no anything. How was he going to find out who wrote the letter? 
“Luke, capture’s in five minutes!” Annabeth’s voice snapped Luke out of his thoughts. He quickly folded the letter, placing it back in the envelope, before shoving it under his mattress. He isn’t taking any chances, especially with the Stoll brothers, whom reminded Luke of him and Chris just a few years back.
Luke immediately ran out of cabin eleven, meeting Annabeth down at the steps.
“You still aren’t geared up,” Annabeth observed, brow raised. “I can’t afford another loss, Luke,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Got held up inside, you know, the Stolls.” Luke shrugged, hoping she wouldn't see through his lie. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. He did get held up with his younger brothers, well, except for that tiny exemption under his mattress.
Annabeth sighed. “Just go and get ready. The conch will sound in a few, and I still have to find Y/n and Malcolm.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Luke chuckled, saluting to his not-so-little sister. “We will win; don’t worry.”
Annabeth rolled her eyes. “You said that last year.”
“Gotta be positive, Annie Bunny,” Luke grinned, nudging the younger girl slightly.
“Stop calling me that,” Annabeth huffed, turning her heel to walk away.
“What? You loved bunnies!” Luke teased as she walked away.
“I was seven!” Annabeth groaned, walking faster, making Luke laugh.
“See you at the creek in four minutes!” Luke called after the daughter of Athena before turning to walk to the armory when someone collided face first into his chest.
“Woah, careful there,” Luke chuckled, catching that someone in his arms. A girl with the same gray eyes as Annabeth, a little more on the silver side, though still as intense.
“Uh, hi?”
“You okay, pretty girl?” Luke asks, smiling at her, his strong arms still wrapped around her waist for support.
“Uh, think so? Yes? I guess?” she rambled, her eyes not meeting his. 
Luke chuckles, helping the girl get back on her feet. “Careful next time, alright?”
“Uh, okay, bye!”
Luke laughed as the girl quickly scrambled away, her long hair bouncing behind her. “See you on the battlefield later, Y/n!”
tags: @lilmaymayy @mischiefmoons
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seosracha · 11 months
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BOYS LiKE U! - a sung hanbin smau ☆
synopsis- getting invited on an idol reality show where two groups have to live with each-other for a month seemed.. awful. but at least you got to bond with your long time crush and fellow leader over taking care of your own grown ass members?
genre- smau, idol au, fluff, drama
pairing- idol!sunghanbin x fem-idol!reader
status- completed!
featuring- zerobaseone, lee jeonghyeon and more!
taglist- open
SPIN OFF! -> dazed and in love
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one. worst name battle
two. #ChineseUnity
three. special mission + 0.3k
four. real life xo kitty
five. sharpie penis
six. hugging a woman
seven. late night walks
eight. kitchen ban + 0.3k
nine. naturally stoned
ten. investigation
eleven. two kamdens
twelve. everyday
thirteen. Barbie or Oppenheimer
fourteen. i like (u)k
fifteen. All Girls Are The Same
sixteen. pussy no balls man apocalypse
seventeen. social experiment
eighteen. cringe couple awards
nineteen. season two (finale)
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wileys-russo · 3 months
Note
Leah, London Colney, “I may aswell just retire”
legacy II l.williamson
"lee! baby we've gotta go in five have you packed her bag?" you yelled out from your daughters bedroom, sat on the bed with the three year old on your lap as you quickly braided her hair so it would be out of her face all day.
“i have snacks, her blanket, her mini ball, her teddy, her inhaler, her water bottle, her headphones, her beanie, her rain jacket, a change of clothes and a story book.” leah recounted as she burst into the room with the bright red backpack in hand.
"gunner!" mila chirped as you tied off the second braid and your wife looked like she could have exploded with joy. "yes you are, mummys little future gunner." leah cooed, tickling her stomach as you rolled your eyes.
"she means the dinosaur einstein." you pointed to the bright green mascot sat on the desk as leah turned.
"you are so mean to me when we have early morning training darling, i've half a mind to tell jonas you aren't allowed to train until eleven." leah sighed with a shake of her head as you stood and hoisted mila onto your hip.
"you love it mrs williamson." you grinned, pecking her lips and breezing past as she followed suit with the backpack in hand. "maybe only a little mrs williamson." you stiffened as her hand smacked against your ass.
"leah! the baby." you hissed in warning, your daughter in a critical parrot phase as you'd both lovingly dubbed it, repeating nearly everything and anything she watched either of you do or say.
and with your wifes potty mouth and tendency to gossip it had gotten the pair of you into hot water more than once in the last few weeks.
like just yesterday when leahs mum had tried to put her down for a nap and was promptly told to fuck off, something mila had heard leah shout at the tv while watching a premier league game when you both thought she was asleep in bed, not hovering by the doorway with eager little ears.
"im not a baby!" mila protested with a scowl that was scarily similar to the blonde standing behind her. "yes you are, you could be forty and you'll still be my baby." leah shrugged as your daughter huffed and you cleared your throat.
"our baby." leah corrected with a charming smile as you hummed, taking your daughters backpack out of her hand and grabbing the car keys as leah made sure to take both of your gym bags as the three of you headed out.
"shark song!" mila cheered as you buckled her into her car seat and leah slipped into the drivers side after tossing all the bags in the back. "bubba isn't there any other song you'd like?" leah asked hopefully with a pained winced as you closed your door and sat in your own seat.
"shark song! shark song! shark song!" the three year old chanted pumping her fists and kicking her feet out as if she'd just won the world cup and you grinned, phone connecting and clicking play on baby shark as leah groaned.
"i'm going to murder kyra." leah stated bluntly toward the culprit behind milas obsession with the overtly catchy kids tune, shifting the car into reverse and backing out of the driveway as you leaned across the console and kissed her cheek.
"just look how happy it makes her baby." you chuckled nodding behind you as leah glanced to your daughter who was wiggling and dancing in her seat, screaming along to the lyrics.
"she's lucky she's cute." leah shook her head, smile tugging at her lips as she faced forward and sped onto the main road.
"well she gets that from you."
~
"leah! there is no way she's going to eat all that." your eyes widened in disbelief as the blonde placed down your daughters breakfast plate in front of you before sitting on your other side with her own.
"mama i'm a growing girl!" mila protested, echoing leahs exact words from dinner last night as you shot your wife a filthy look who wasted no time pecking your lips apologetically.
"me!" mila craned her head back as leah grinned, attacking the three year olds face with kisses as everyone at the table visibly melted at the sound of her giggles echoing around the room.
"hey mila can aunty beffy have some bacon pretty please?" beth asked with a smile from across the table. "good luck." leah mumbled with a shake of her head. "no! my bacon." mila frowned and covered her plate protectively.
"well if there was ever any doubt she's leahs, thats squashed it." kim shrugged as your wife grinned and pushed her playfully. "but mila im so hungry! i might fall off my chair from starvation." beth groaned dramatically, collapsing into her girlfriend who looked down at her unamused.
"didn't ask don't care." mila chirped your own words from dinner last night as leah choked on her eggs and kim whacked her on the back. "that ones on you!" your wife warned as you blushed, mumbling a gentle reminder to your daughter about manners.
"hey mila can aunty wally have a piece of bacon please?" lia asked from your other side as mila nodded, pushing her plate closer and wiggling herself up from your lap as you hurried to steady her as she stood on your knees.
"mila!" beth gasped in betrayal, lia scooting her chair back as your daughter clambered over to sit with her now instead, seemingly more than happy to share her breakfast with her godmother who gave the blonde across the table a victorious smirk as she bit down on a piece of bacon.
~
"i play now?" you looked down with a smile as a tiny body clung onto your leg, mila recognizing the sound of the whistle to mean she was now able to run around the pitch freely with her aunties as training was over.
"you play now. who do you wanna kick with today bubba?" you squatted down and brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face. "aunty lessi!" your daughter held her arms up at your best friend whose face lit up.
"now how could i ever say no to you?" the blonde picked her up right away before tossing her in the air and catching her, pulling a face and making mila giggle. "careful less." you warned sternly, the girl waving you off as she grabbed a ball.
"whose on the other team?" alessia whispered to your daughter as a few of the girls lined up, mila frowning as she looked them over. "lots, steffy, mummy and kimmy!" mila decided, simply naming all four girls who lined up making everyone grin.
"okay. remember what we practiced at our sleepover?" alessia placed mila down and squatted to her level, hands on her shoulders as your daughter nodded. "no mercy!" mila yelled making a few of the girls snicker.
"that was aunty mary, not me." alessia teased, pulling down mila's beanie over her eyes as she whined and quickly fixed it as her ball was placed by her feet. "okay. go!" alessia clapped, jogging beside her as your daughter gave it a kick.
one by one she kicked past her defenders, the girls all falling dramatically to the ground making her giggle as alessia continued to coach her forward, now only leah standing in the way of the goal.
"leah!" you called out in warning, recognizing your wifes competitive drive ran deep and she had no problem teaching your daughter 'how to lose gracefully' despite the fact it wasn't a lesson you'd say leah actually knew herself.
though if the blonde defender heard you she didn't acknowledge it, smirk on her face as the girls all cheered for mila who had an adorably concentrated frown on her features now.
"shoot shoot shoot!" alessia encouraged with a clap, mila kicking the ball as hard as she could and you held your breath knowing it had been a long morning and with your daughter due for a nap soon it wouldn't take much to set her off if leah chose not to let her have this goal.
though you breathed a sigh of relief as the ball rolled through your wifes legs and she fell to the ground with a dramatic cry, a soft smile on your face as mila jumped on top of her with a cheer.
"goaaaalll!" alessia cupped her hands over her mouth and cheered, scooping the tiny blonde up and hoisting her on her shoulders, sprinting around on a victory lap and assuring she held on very tightly.
you grabbed a bottle of water and made your way over toward leah who sat up, accepting your hand as you helped her up and were quickly drawn into her hold.
"does it still hurt she's following in my footsteps and not yours?" you teased, squealing as leahs cold hands crept up your top and she playfully bit your neck.
"with a goal like that under her belt i may as well just retire." leah sighed, arms wound around your neck as she gently swayed the two of you side to side, both of you watching on fondly as your daughter raced around with her auties.
"shit its past her nap time isn't it?" leah realised, training having had a delayed start due to a sprinkler malfunction as you nodded and your wife groaned, seeing mila was still very much so wide awake which would throw her off her regular schedule.
"oh she's going to be a nightmare to get down tonight."
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sincerelyrki · 5 months
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PIKA PIKA
↳ NISHIMURA RIKI SMAU
fate works in different ways, sometimes it even comes disguised as a life sized pikachu and a clumsy idol.
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SYNOPSIS ➙ Niki knew that the pikachu’s on stage with them were real people dressed in a costume but that doesn’t mean he can’t get shocked after accidentally revealing one of their identities. his shock quickly changed to amusement as the revealed pikachu could only think of one thing to say as the tension in the room heightened- “pika pika?” it’s not like you could avoid him after humiliating yourself either, you still have all of tour left.
PAIRING ➙ idol!riki x nonidol!fem!reader
WARNINGS + GENRE ➙ smau. fluff. riki is down bad. forced proximity. opposites attract. reader is the leader of a 5 member dance group. angst. friendly fighting. real fighting (js one scene). overprotective riki. jealousy. yn gets in some fights. older reader (a year older). more to be added if necessary.
STATUS ➙ STARTED ! HIATUS [march 27, 2024]
TAGLIST ➙ OPEN ! send an ask or comment to be added
FEAT ➙ chuu (soloist). jaehyun (boynextdoor). wonbin (riize). ricky (zerobaseone). yuma (&team)
A/N ➙ i lied this one comes before he loves me not 😝😝 anywaysss
spotify playlist
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PROFILES
| chuu’s chu (plural)
| emflopout
| yn’s dads
| fan accounts aka the holy grail
CHAPTERS
| one : if you want something to play with get a pikachu
| two : Shit day 😔
| three : girl he doesn’t want you [ written ]
| four : merrily we fall out of line…
| five : 1 2 3 any boys here? ❤️😍😝
| six : cake and candles my brother [ written ]
| seven : take off your sunglasses
| eight : fuck ass tom holland
| nine : reliable car max?
| ten : twenty questions
| eleven : MADE IT TO THE PRIV 💪
| twelve : my pini <3
| thirteen : i think i have a stalker
tba + titles are subject to change
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@ SINCERELYRKI do not plagiarize, translate, copy or repost
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sykostyles · 3 months
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one, two, three; eyes on me
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wc: 2.3k
summary: your husband is tired of your bratty antics
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a/n: oh good lord, I have no explanation for this other than witnessing my horny dash the other day. somebody sedate me.
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cw: established relationship, smut, daddy kink, slight degradation, impact play, p in v sex, anal play, dom/sub dynamics, some manhandling (again if I missed anything pls let me know)
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“Kneel,” The tone of his voice makes your core throb as you make your way to the floor. A sense of guilt washing over you for being so turned on by a single word; a single command. You know he’ll chastise you for it once he notices. “Hands,” you reach your hands behind your back before they’re placed in the leather cuffs you’ve grown accustomed to. He pulls them snug before dropping your arms to rest against your back as he pushes you to lean over the bed. “Spread em’,” his knee comes between your legs as you slide your knees across the floor as far as they’ll allow before he attaches your ankles to the spreader bar. Your eyes are screwed shut as you hear him fumbling through the box behind you. “Do you know why you’re in this position right now?” your husband asks, voice lacking the softness he usually reserved for you.
You nod in response, a whimper leaves your lips as his favorite leather belt comes in contact with the flesh of your ass, sending you forward. “Words,” he reminds you. “You know better.”
“Yes,” you whisper, voice muffled by the fluffy comforter of your bed.
The sound of the belt making contact with your ass again is deafening; the feeling makes you whine. “Yes, what?” he chastises.
“Y-yes, d-daddy,” you choke out.
“You were a bad girl today, weren’t you?” Harry asks, rubbing the smooth leather of the belt over the red marks littering your cheeks before he raises the belt once more, cracking it against your tender skin.
“Yes, daddy.” you repeat, a slight grin forming on your lips. You knew all along. This is exactly what you wanted; to be completely at his mercy while he did whatever he wanted. He turns back to the box, taking his time deciding what to grab next. Settling on the blue gemmed butt plug he’d picked up for you a few weeks ago. He toys with it between his fingers before he takes a stand behind you before dropping to his knees to be eye level with your core.
“Now, you’re gonna take whatever Daddy gives you right, Angel?” He asks, rubbing the plug up and down your slit to gather some of your arousal. 
“Mhm, whatever Daddy wants.” You whimper into the mattress.
“That’s right, whatever Daddy wants. Now, breathe, brat.” He commands as he begins to slowly push the plug into your tighter hole, toying with you before he lets it finally slide into place and he gives it a tap, making you whimper. The stretch is almost mind numbing but you absolutely love it. “We’ll start with twenty. Count,” he says as he begins his assault on your cheeks. One. Two. Three. The sting is almost unbearable, but it turns into pleasure so quickly. Four. Five. Six. Your brain is almost turned to complete mush. Seven. Eight. Nine. Each blow stings a little more than the last; but that just makes the pleasure all the more better. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
“Thirteen,” you moan out, writhing as much as your stretched out legs will allow you. 
“I think you’re enjoying this, look at how much you’re dripping.” Harry mocks from behind you, dipping one of his fingers inside your hole, making you mewl, and push your hips back towards his hand. “I didn’t say you could move,” he sneers, withdrawing his hand and bringing the belt down again, making you jolt forward back into your rightful spot. Smack after smack, blow after blow.
“Twenty,” the feeling of the plug constantly being forced forward from the movement of your hips with each blow of the belt almost has you bursting at the seams. The belt hits the floor. Your breathing is labored and tears are staining your cheeks as his hands rub soothing circles over the reddened flesh of your ass. Your husband's hand snakes up the middle of your back before grabbing a fist full of your hair and forcing you to look in front of you at the full-length mirror that he has pulled from the corner of the room; But your eyes are still screwed shut.
“One, two, three; eyes on me,” he says in a sing-songy voice. “Want you to watch as daddy absolutely ruins his perfect pussy.” His other hand smooths down the length of your back to toy with the plug in your ass, pushing and pulling on the gem; pulling moan after moan from you. Your eyes snap open and you meet his gaze in the mirror. “There she is,” he coos, “Daddys’ bad girl.”
“Wan’ be your good girl,” you whine, “Wan’ be daddys’ good girl.” you’re wiggling your hips to get any kind of friction.
“You should have thought about that before you acted the way you did today,” He says, “You’re going to watch me use your little hole to get myself off, we’re going to shower and then you’re going to bed.” He’s lining himself up with your entrance and about to start pushing in when you–
–“No! That’s not.. That’s not fair!” you protest. You wanted him to be rough with you, not to deny you. He tightens his grip on your hair and pulls you up against his front.
“What’s not fair, is me not knowing where you were for six hours today because you thought you were being cute by turning your location off.” He spits, “You’re lucky you’re getting this much out of me after today.” He says tossing you back down onto the bed. 
“Please, daddy. I’ll do anything.” You beg, looking at him with pleading eyes in the mirror.
“No, now take your punishment like a big girl.” He says before pushing in inch by inch, making your mouth form that little “O” that he loves so much. “S-shit, Angel. Such a tight little pussy.” He groans. One hand finds your hip as he starts the push and pull, and the other winds in your hair again. “Ah ah ah, eyes open,” he warns when your eyes start to flutter shut, making you snap your eyes open to meet his gaze in the mirror again.
Mutters of “daddy, daddy, daddy,” leave your lips with every thrust of his hips. The feeling of his cock rubbing against every sweet spot mixed with the angle of having him bump up with the plug in your ass has your head in the clouds. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so on fire in your life.  “So good, daddy.. please.” you whine, “please, please, please.. I’m so close daddy, please!” Your pleas have him switching his hold and forcing the side of your face into the comforter beneath you.
“No, you better hold it.” He warns from above you, his hips still pistoning into you, forcing the plug to grind even further into your ass.
“C-can’t, daddy. Can’t do it!” You say as your body betrays you. Flashes of white lightning litter your vision as your entire body heats up in red hot pleasure. “Oh n-no, daddy, i’m sor–” you’re cut off by being torn from your spot and flipped over onto your back, bound hands still behind you. Soft fingertips make harsh contact with your left cheek, making you gasp.
“I thought I told you to hold it,” he scolds you, taking hold of your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks.
“I-I tried, daddy, I promise I tried,” you whimper beneath him, “I’m sorry, daddy, I’m sorry,” your lip wobbles as fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks. He narrows his eyes at you.
“Mm,” is all he says in response. He doesn’t put himself back in though. He reaches under you and undoes the leather cuffs and tosses them into the box. He reaches down to free you from the bar before standing again. “Turn over,” He says, tapping your hip with two fingers. You slowly turn over, mostly because of the ache in between your legs and the plug in your ass. He carefully slides his hand down before gripping the edges of the plug between his fingers, “Breathe,” he reminds you as he slowly retrieves the toy, making you whine at the empty feeling. “In the shower you go,” he says with a light tap to your right buttcheek.
“B-but what abo–” you start to argue.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, tone firm as he gathers everything he’s used tonight before walking into the bathroom and setting the toys in the sink. “C’mon,” He’s holding his hand out to you after he walks back into the bedroom and notices you’re still laying in the same spot. “Listen for once today, please.” He’s pleading with you now. You stand and place your hand in his and he guides you into the shower with him.
You’re standing as far away from him as possible inside the shower as he turns the water on. Your arms are wrapped around your chest; as you suddenly feel exposed and embarrassed that you were unable to keep it together. Tears begin to burn in your eyes as you watch him. You feel horrible. All day all you wanted was his attention, but you went about it in all the wrong ways. You’d really pushed him too far this time. He’s never been this level of upset with you to end a scene before it was actually over, or before a safeword was called. After he’s got the water to the temperature he knows you’ll like, he turns to you and takes in your appearance.
“C’mon. No need to cry.” He says, pulling you to his front, but you’re not budging. Your arms remain tightly wrapped around you.
‘M sorry, daddy. I didn’t mean to,” you sniffle.
“Didn’t mean to cum or didn’t mean to act like such a brat all day?” he asks, taking hold of your arms to wrap them around himself.
“I-I just wanted y-your attention,” you whine, “I’ve just m-missed you s’all.” 
He breathes a shaky breath through his nose. “There are other ways of getting my attention that don’t involve me scouring the entire city for you because you decided to turn your location off, not be where you were supposed to be, and ignore all of my phone calls.” He states, “Do you know how worried I’ve been all day?” Tears are in his eyes now. “Do you know what I would have done if something had actually happened to you?” his demeanor is cracking, “I would have lost everything,” is the last thing he says before the tears flow over, he can’t stop them. 
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” you cry to him, pulling him into your embrace as you guide him to the floor of the shower. You’re settled on your knees on either side of his legs, holding his head against your chest as his arms are pulled so tightly around you; like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” You’re cradling his face as he just lets the tears fall from his eyes. He’s had to keep up his strong bravado all day, but he can’t seem to do it anymore. He feels terrible inside for making you feel like you had to cause a scene in order to get him to pay attention to you, but the level of extreme you went to today had his head in a spiral. He didn’t know what to do. Being held by you now, his mind begins to ease.
“Please, never do that again,” He pleads with you. “Never do that to me again,” his forehead comes to rest on yours.
“I-I won’t. I promise, daddy. I promise.” Your hands take hold of either side of his face as the words leave you but he shakes his head.
“No, baby. I don’t want to be daddy right now. Want to be Harry; Want to be your husband.” His hands finding a soft grip on your wrists, his eyes searching yours; pleading with you to come back to him. The longing in his eyes snap you out of it.
“Okay, Harry,” you nod. “I’m here, baby,” your hands moving to grasp at the nape of his neck, angling his face towards yours as you place soft kisses all over.
“Can’t lose you, baby,” he whines, “Not ever,” his hands begin exploring the expanse of your water slicked skin; easily gliding along the surface of all his favorite spots before they stop on your hips, giving them a squeeze.
“I’m right here,” you soothe, “Not leaving you, Har,” you press a kiss to his lips, “Never,” you whisper against them before you pull away to look at his face.
“Gotta feel you, baby,” he rushes out, “C-can I, please?” his tone leaning on the side of desperate; hands moving to the plump flesh of your ass as his fingertips dig into the still sore skin, making you slightly wince. “Need to feel my wife," your head spins at the reminder that this man is in fact your husband. He knows you love it.
“Okay, y-yeah,” you breathe out, “Whatever you want, baby,” lifting yourself up on your knees before he stops you.
“No,” he says, “Want you to want it too,” he reaches up with one hand to lean your gaze down to be level with his.
“Always want you, Harry,” you tell him before covering his lips with yours. His hands return to your hips as he guides you further up on your knees, before he reaches down to line himself up with your pulsing hole, and guiding you back down his length. “G-god,” you whine, “s-so big, Har.” The stretch has you feeling delirious; a delicious sting you’ve been in love with for many years now.
“Yeah?” he grins, “My little wife can take it, though,” he says, pulling you flush against him, letting you get adjusted before you begin to bounce on his cock. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. His face is tucked into your neck, whispering sweet praises of adoration, against the skin of your throat in between the open mouthed kisses he laid on the surface. The delicious sting of his cock rubbing against every nook and cranny inside of you; he sets your skin ablaze without even trying. But something switches in your mind. You want to make him feel good; you want to make it up to him for making him worry so much all day just because you wanted some attention.
“Oh–haah, fuck–Harry,” you whimper, snaking your hand up to the front of his throat and grasping with a light hold.
“Oh?” He inquires, lighting flashes in his eyes as he searches yours, “Does my wife want to take control?” He’s teasing you, a sly grin evident on his face, “Do you really think you can handle that?”
“Uhuh,” you confirm, “Know I can,” you say, speeding up the movements of your hips.
“Prove it then, baby.” 
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c/n: I'm sorry 🫣 I'll go touch grass now!
please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed! <3
all dividers by @/cafekitsune
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seat-safety-switch · 3 months
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Have you ever noticed how weird it is that microwaves all cook in roughly the same time? Sure, if you squint, you'll notice that some microwaves will say on their fronts 700 watts, others 1500 watts, but this increased power doesn't make a material difference in your life. You'll still be waiting about two minutes for your corndog to become screechingly hot, an eternity when you're hungry. There's only one notable exception: the giant, intimidating, stainless-steel microwave at your corner convenience store.
You might think that this is easy to fix. Go to the bankruptcy auction for a convenience store, buy one. Have you ever seen a convenience store go bankrupt? They are basically money printers, and any region in which they go under will already have had the microwave picked clean by gangs of near-feral copper thieves. The manufacturers won't talk to you, either: why would they bother with your dumb domestic ass, and your crybaby questions about "what kind of cord does this take," when they could use the same phone call to sell fifty more microwaves to 7-Eleven?
No, it's just like my grandfather used to say: if you want a job done right, you have to half-ass it yourself and then claim victory anyway. I would have to understand how to make a microwave. With the help of my local librarian, I was able to check out some useful books, such as Electronics For The Precocious Nine-Year-Old and its sequel, Advanced Electronics For The Nine-Year-Old Orphan. It takes a village to raise a child, or more accurately, to produce a twenty-five thousand watt, V8-powered microwave that can cook a frozen potato to "atomized" in just over seventeen seconds.
We're going to market some time next year, but in the meantime, you can buy my plans and build one yourself. All you need is an undefended electrical substation near you, some wire cutters, and absolutely no self-preservation instinct. Hey, it's an investment. Think of how much extra time you've been wasting waiting for a breakfast burrito to cook. You could use that time trying to get bail instead.
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