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#i just think also there's somethin to be said about like. how about we stop using comparison to dismiss ppls individual struggles
cranberrv · 2 days
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thunder
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ in which dallas winston loses his temper
( a/n : HIII im sorry if this wasnt ur vision but i dont think dallas is one for big apologies so i kinda focused on the arguement more than the apology hope that’s ok… also toxic dallas alert sorry if that isnt ur scene!! also not proofread but hope u cuties enjoy )
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it was a late night in mid-summer, and you and dallas were on the porch on the curtis brothers house. he wanted to go out for a smoke, and dragged you along. you were wearing his leather jacket, it was a windy night and you were getting chilly. dallas had goosebumps along his arms.
“are you sure you don’t want it back, dal?” you ask him, insisting on giving him his jacket back.
“nah, sugar, don’t want ya freezin’ to death out here,” he answers, taking a drag of his cigarette as he looks out at the empty street.
“i’ll just go inside, though, so you don’t get hypothermia or something..” you insist, but he grabs your hand and stops you.
“you’re fine, baby, stay with me.” you look up at him and nod, squeezing his hand a bit tighter.
you stand outside for a little while longer. it feels so peaceful standing there with him. his hand that’s rough and dangerous from the punches it throws is enveloping yours in a sweet gentleness shown only with you. his cigarette smoke becoming a mock mist that calms you both down. his deep breathes that are only heard because of how quiet it is.
nothing could ruin this moment.
you felt it was a good time to say the three words. not like you hadn’t said them before — it’s been a year since you’ve started dating, and you’ve both adored each other from the very start. but dallas got funny when you told him what he already knew. tonight would be different, you thought.
“.. i love ya, dal,” you say softly after a few moments of quiet. it felt casual — exactly what he would have wanted. but maybe not casual enough, because there was a short silence following your words.
eventually, he speaks. “i know ya do, sugar.”
you sigh. why is it that he could never stand to say it back?
he catches your sigh. of course he knows what you’re sighing about — he knows you all too well. he chooses not to act on it, not to apologize, not to say anything. he doesn’t want to fight with you. he just takes a drag of his cigarette and plays innocent.
“it would be nice to know that you loved me too, dallas,” you eventually say.
“oh c’mon,” another drag of his cigarette. “you ain’t an idiot, you know i do.”
“do i? i can’t remember one time you’ve said ‘i love you’ to me,” you cross your arms and look up at him.
“this isn’t somethin’ to get pressed on, y/n, the boys are inside and the windows are open,” he puts a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to stop talking, to pretend like you’re okay. all because he doesn’t want his friends to hear. “and i have said it, baby, you’re just forgetting or somethin’.”
“you have not, i would remember if you have,” you counter, shoving his hand off of you. “i don’t want to argue, dallas, i really don’t—“
“too damn bad, y/n, because you’re sayin’ that i don’t love you, and we both know that ain’t true,”
“then say it.”
“..what?”
“you heard me,” you say. “it has been a whole year of us dating, and you’re never ready to say that you love me,” you raise your voice to get your point across.
“christ, y/n, you’re difficult, huh?” he groans. “it ain’t a big deal, don’t go throwing a tantrum.”
“i’m difficult? dallas, i don’t know if you get how a relationship works, but at this point, you either love me, or you’re done with me. there is no middle ground after this long together.”
“you’re fuckin’ crazy, i know how a relationship works, and i ain’t done with you. don’t go stickin’ words in my mouth,” his voice is raising, too.
“if you’re not done with me, then you love me.” you say, in a desperate attempt to get him to say the three words. you almost want to beg. “it hurts, dallas, that i don’t get that reassurance, that i leave our dates with my words hanging in the air, waiting for a reply,”
he groans. “you know that i do, so what’s the fuckin’ point?”
“you’re unbelievable.”
he scoffs, his voice raising. not quite yelling, but definitely not talking. “holy fuck, you know that i love you, man, so quit bein’ such a bitch!”
the crease in your eyebrow drops as he says that. “don’t call me that,”
“c’mon, man, you’re acting like a fuckin’ lunatic trying to get me to admit somethin’ that i’ve already admitted,” he says, voice still raised. “take a deep breath, maybe get a glass of water, and come back to me once you’re normal again.”
you scoff. “because i’m expressing my feelings, suddenly i’m a lunatic? because i’m not like your old girls, and i actually strive for a healthy relationship, i’m not normal?”
“you’re freakin’ out because i didn’t say it back once, of course i think you’re going crazy.”
“i’m ‘freaking out’ because it’s been a year of ‘thank you’ and ‘i know’ whenever i tell you i love you,”
“you’re being a dumbass, y/n, you know i—“ he cuts himself off, sighing and taking a step back. “fine, man, whatever, you win. go inside and call bucks when you’ve cooled off, i’m goin’ home,”
when he walks past you, the air is thick and unwelcoming. you don’t even bother getting the last word, dreading the fact that he might turn back and lose his shit if you do. he mutters something incoherent under his breath, and walks down the creeky front porch steps, into the dead of night.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
of course, you don’t call bucks. why would you? just so buck can tell you that dallas isn’t there, when in reality he just doesn’t want to talk to you? just so suddenly you’re bending to his will, and he’s getting his way once again? you don’t think so.
dallas does this a lot — whenver you two fight, even if it’s a small one, he needs time to cool off. sometimes it’s a couple hours, sometimes it’s a day. it’s never stretched longer, until now. it’s been three torturous days of waiting for a grand gesture, an apology, anything.
the next day at school, you’re walking through the parking lot during your lunch break, talking to cherry valance and marcia about what happened between you and dallas. they say a lot of “told you so” and “that’s dallas for you”, and you can’t say they’re wrong. they warned you about him, and his reputation for being so short-tempered and stubborn.
the sound of an engine roars behind you, and you and your friends turn your heads to see who is making the noise. it’s a 1957 red thunderbird, you recognize it as buck merrill’s.
“that must be dal’s friend, buck,” you whisper to your friends. “but why would buck be here?”
“he’s a greaser, he’s probably like, 5 grades behind and coming here begging for another shot at graduation,” randy, marcia’s boyfriend, teases. you shoot him a glare, and he shuts up.
“i’ll go see whats up,” you say softly, walking over to the now-parked car.
as you walk over and the window rolls down. it is not buck merrill, like you expected, but it’s dallas winston.
“hi,” you say softly, your walls starting to go up but hesitating, wondering if you’re even still fighting.
“hey, sweetie,” he says, not explaining what he’s doing here.
“what’re doing?” you ask him.
he shrugs. “wanted to see you, i dunno.”
“oh,” you say softly. you hoped for an apology, you hoped for flowers, you hoped for chocolate, you hoped for a hug, you hoped for—
“i shouldn’t of gotten all heated when we talked, it wasn’t cool,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “and you ain’t a bitch.”
“..thanks.” you say after a few seconds of silence. what a shit apology, you think.
he’s staring out into the parking lot instead of you. “and i’m crazy about you, man,” he looks up at you. “you gotta know that, sugar.”
“thank you,” you repeat again, unsure of what to say.
another beat of silence as he swallows in his throat, before speaking and finally looking over at you. “i love ya, doll,”
you should’ve stayed mad, you should’ve not accepted his awful apology, but you cannot hide the smile tugging at your lips. this is all you’ve asked for from him, and he finally has the courage to admit it.
“i love you too, dallas.” you say softly, leaning into the window and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “thank you,”
“you gotta stop sayin’ that, y/n,” he teases, playfully pushing you away. “go hang out with your stupid friends, man. i’ll come over tonight and hang.”
you nod, and walk away, looking back at him and seeing a small smile on his face. nothing could ruin this moment.
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inkskinned · 9 months
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you were raised in comparison.
it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.
you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.
you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.
what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.
it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.
you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.
you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?
a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.
you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.
it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.
something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.
#writeblr#warm up#my dad was actively doing bad shit to us and we STILL were told we were lucky . and to a point i do think im lucky#i just think also there's somethin to be said about like. how about we stop using comparison to dismiss ppls individual struggles#yes there are people who have no perspective. for the reference tho having perspective actually made me really unwilling to get help#for what was a serious and debilitating mental health issue. bc i thought i didnt DESERVE IT#and i would rather have 600 ppl who aren't THAT bad get help and get heard and get seen#than make any 1 kid. do the math that i did: look at the world that is dying and the people who are hurting and say#''oh. okay. others have it worse. they are probably better people than i am. i am being unreasonable. i cannot ask for help#i am not good. i am taking too much space. i am not worth saving.''#bc our WHOLE lives we are taught a scarcity mindset - that you can 'steal' from someone. so that instead of changing a system that doesn't#actually offer fair support to everyone#we put the impetus on the individual to just... demand less.#and here's something - there are probably ppl who think i DIDNT deserve to get help#bc i DID have it better than other people#and something about that is ... so sickening. bc i think all of us in some way at some point WILL need help.#we were supposed to make communities. we were supposed to offer our hands. we were supposed to raise the barn#instead we said: it could be worse. now handle it yourself
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satoruluvies · 1 month
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saying somethin' stupid like 'i love you'
fwb!gojo saying the forbidden L word during the deed ????
slightly nsfw, minors please don't interact. also fluff bc i miss gojo :(
not proof read !
thankyou so much for all the support on my recent ♡
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satoru thinks you're so cruel. one minute you're holding onto him, nails digging into his back as if you needed him to live.
chanting his name so so beautifully as he trapped you between his bare body and the bed, relentlessly thrusting into you.
and then the next you were back to acting like even his mere existence irritated you. in a way it does but not in the way he thinks.
not once had you been there the morning after. only the crumpled sheets and your nail marks served as reminders that you were here, with him.
“gojo can you not-”
“that wasn't what you called me last night. what happened to toru?”
you glare daggers at him as one of his hand held your notebook high up. he was ridiculously tall and he liked abusing that privilege. especially against you.
“shut up” you walk past him without bothering to take your book.
“hey you mad baby?” he chuckled, getting in front of you, stopping you again.
“come on, answer me. why'd you leave? i thought we agreed to go to class together hmm?”
you roll your eyes at him and crossed your arms.
“that's what you said. i didn't agree.”
“aw you're too mean” he pouted as you scowl and try passing him again only to be stopped by his hand on your arm.
“i wanted you to stay.” his words were heavy, his face not showing even the slightest bit of his shit eating grin he always has on.
he turns to you, his round sunglasses were low on his nose and you could see his oh so beautiful eyes.
you look away because if you don't, you were pretty sure you'd be hypnotised and you'd do whatever he wanted.
“if you keep doing this i won't stay over anymore.” your words shot a painful jab at your own abdomen. his grip around you loosened slowly until he lets go completely.
“alright then.” he hands you your notebook, more like placed them into your arms as he walked away, eyes never meeting yours.
the next ‘sleepover’ took place three days after the banter with satoru. he hadn't called or texted the whole time but when you asked if he was up for it, he replied almost immediately.
so here you were again, him ramming into you as you cling onto his bare body for dear life. you could feel your climax coming as your grip grew tighter and tighter.
satoru was the same, chasing his high. he had missed you a lot the past three days but tried distancing himself just so his feelings for you would simmer down.
it only resulted him thinking about you all day and even more during the night. he finds himself wishing you were here with him, either giving you the pleasure you both agreed upon or just you laying down next to him. he didn't care.
he just wanted you to be there. with him.
and now that you are, his heart clenches the way you clench around him as the both of you cummed simultaneously.
he holds your body tight as you both work your way through the orgasm, euphoria rushing through both your veins.
“fuck y/n…” he groaned as he felt your grip loosen. he can't let you go just yet.
“i love you”
he hadn't meant to say it really. not like this at least.
“satoru we've been through this-” you push him weakly but he stays grounded, eyes boring into yours.
“i mean it.” he says, one of his hands found themselves caressing your cheeks as the other supported him while he hovered above you.
“you don't have to say it back or… feel it back…” satoru's voice was full of emotion.
“but just give me a chance to show you how much i love you. then we can work things out from there.”
you find yourself falling into the charms of gojo satoru. it's not everyday he offers his heart to someone. he doesn't offer it at all but now here he is, handing it to you on a silver platter.
“alright”
you could see satoru's face visibly light up and his blue eyes gleammed. he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.
“thankyou” he traced his fingers on your jaw, his touch so soft, so addicting.
“you better treat me like a princess” you chuckle as he physically melted at the sound.
“oh i plan to do exactly that, and more, lovely.” he leaned down to place another kiss on your lips.
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d6volution · 6 months
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Nascent
Jax/Reader. [Fem alinged reader.]
tags: oral sex, virginity, loss of virginity, established relationships, soft(?) jax, fluff, and smut, jax has a tongue.
Also found on my Ao3 | 2k words.
minors dni.
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Jax's gloved fingers tip toed up your side, and you shivered.
"What's wreckin' ya mind dollface, you're bein a little too quiet tonight." You shuffled on the bed before rolling onto your side to face him. "Thinking too much.. I miss home. Being stuck here.. sucks." Jax was silent as you spoke, but a lazy smile was atill present on his lips. "Mnh. Yeeaaahh.. never gets old does it?" Jax laid on his back, hands folded behind his head now. 
You took this chance to lay on his chest, nuzzling him a little. He grinned , but before he could say something sly you spoke up instead— 
"Jax, I ... think I wanna try it." You mumbled into his chest. 
"Mhmm.. try what?" His eyes were closed now. He was clearly relaxing, and your words weren't exactly clicking right now. 
"It.. you know.. I just need something to take my mind off of things and—" Jax suddenly sat up , his chest bumping into your nose. His hands were on your shoulders, steading you. "You're not messin' with me, are ya? I'd like to think I've been really respectful of your boundaries lately, ya know." It sounded like he didn't believe you, but he was trying his hardest not to sound like an ass. He got a few gropes in here and there but never pushed you farther than you wanted to go. 
"I'm.. serious. We'll just take it slow.." You said and felt your cheeks growing warm at the thought of being intimate with him. You've thought about it a lot but always chickened out.
"I dunno toots, I'm not sure I could hold bac—..." His hand was gliding up your back, but you shot him a look and he chuckled. Raising his hands in his defense. "Alright, alright slow it is.." After all he doesn't have to move fast to drive you crazy anyways. 
"W.. Well how do we.. start? It's.. not like I can make out you.. I think." Right, you guys always exchange nuzzles instead. But Jax rolls his eyes and adjusts himself on the bed, "Just lay back will ya? I'll lead the way." 
You swallowed and did like he said, falling to the plush of your bed and you felt his hands on your legs. Spreading them apart , you were resisting a little and he paused. "C'mon , I said I'd be gentle and I will babe. Scouts honor." He crossed his heart before grinning down at your nervous form. 
"S.. Sorry, I haven't even been this far in the real world no less the digital.." You said embarrassed by your lack of experience. Hoping Jax wouldn't tease you too badly, but he seemed to be taking your feelings into consideration. 
"Digital or not , I'm glad ya happened to save yourself for me. Now let me show you how much I appreciate that.. yeah?" He removed your lower clothing and the cold air hitting your skin caused you to shiver. You swore you saw his eyes grow dark for a moment but you didn't have a chance to analyze his expression too much before he yanked you a little by your ankles down the bed and closer to him. "Eep..!"  His head was in between your legs now, and you felt something wet running along your thighs, "Jax !?" 
"Mmn? I'm in the middle of something doll—" 
"I.. Is that your ..tongue..!?" You cut him off and he chuckled you could feel his breath against your skin but he didn't answer. Continuing his assault on your thighs until the wet muscle finally found your folds and you stiffened up, trying to move away from the strange and new sensation but his hands pulled you back gently. "Mnh.. listen , babe. Ya gotta let me know if I'm doin' somethin' wrong alright?" He lifted his head, leaving your cunt clenching and aching for more.
"N.. No, I..I'm sorry I was just surprised— I didn't know you could.. it doesn't matter just continue.. please." You turned your head to the side, avoiding his intense eye contact.
"Before that, give me a word. So....ya know. I'll know when to stop," He said , still admiring your more vulnerable position right now.
"Uh.." You can't think, your mind clouded by the ever growing lust bubbling in your core. "I.. I don't know.. uh, circus!"
He scoffed, clearly amused. "How original." 
"Ha. Ha. I can't really think right now, Jax– aahh..!" Your hips bucked as his tongue flicked against that sensitive bean hidden between your folds. Oh, he liked that noise. A little too much, and now he needed more. And he a knew a trick that would keep you singing so sweetly for him. 
He licked and flicked at your clit before flatting his long tongue against you dragging his tongue agonizingly slow along your puffy cunt before pulling back, maybe because your thighs were crushing his head now. "Look toots, I know I'm rockin your world here but ya gotta keep those legs open for me yeah?" He said in a somewhat strained voice, prying your legs apart again.
You nodded, your eyes glossy with tears. You were so needy in this moment that you'd do anything he'd ask. "Close 'em again and I'll stop, how about that for a little motivation.~" His voice was playful but, you knew he was serious and that made your insides twist a little.
"Th.. That isn't fair Jax..!" You whined and kept your legs spread even so, though they trembled and you felt even more exposed keeping them open yourself rather him holding them apart.
"Pleaaasee. To be honest, I think it's perfectly fair. You told me to take slow, not that I couldn't be a little mean.. isn't that what ya love about me after all?" He said in a breathy tone, before his eyes were on your cunt again.
"You're gorgeous ya know that? Don't.. tell anyone I said that. Compliments are like currency here." He said with a tad bit of annoyance lacing his tone, "I only wanna spend that on you .." He muttered before lowering himself to go down on you again. 
But this time, he was purposely being more attentive. His tongue even diving into your cunt, wiggling its way into your tight hole. And a thick finger sliding inside, you yelped and your legs threatned to close around his head but you forced to yourself to hold your trembling thighs apart. Having his finger to clench down on made it easier to cause friction and push you closer to climax.
Tears spilled over your cheeks from the stimulation and frustration. 
"Mmn... mmf.." Jax moaned against your sopping wet cunt, removing his finger and using his tongue instead.. thrusting it in and out of your hole. His lidded eyes bored into your skull, you looked delicious to him when you cried.
You couldn't take it, your body jolted and legs locked around his head as you came. Soiling his face in the process. "Hh.. Hhaa..! Damn it.." 
Jax tutted as he lifted his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ya didn't keep your legs open at the end there.. Hm, I'm not sure I should let you get away with that." The tone of his voice was playful. He grins, that shit eating grin while staring at you as he climbed atop your quivering body. You were clearly still coming down from your high. 
"H..Huh..? Jax.. I couldn't help it.." You sighed, chest heaving up and down. "Please.." You reached out for his hand and he allowed you, still speaking as his gloved thumb rubbed the back of your hand gently. 
"Yeah, yeah of course you couldn't.. .I'm good at what I do after all," He said and kneeled in front of your spread legs. "But, we can agree ya need just a little punishment right?" He took your intertwined hands and locked them atop your head, leaving you a little exposed and vulnerable to his touch. 
Pulling his cock from his overalls with the opposite hands, he started stroking it slowly. "But, I'll be gentle like ya said.." He gives a wink before leaning down and nuzzling the side of your face reassuringly. It's all apart of the bit, "You ready for this?" He whispered, making sure you were okay to move forward. 
You were soaked between your legs. More than ready but still a little nervous. "Ready.." You agreed quietly, the tension in the air was palpable. 
You should be relaxed after his reassurance, but the size of his cock resting in his hand was making your body tense and cunt clench around nothing.. in both anticipation and a dash of fear. 
He rubbed the thick tip against your sopping wet hole, and dragged it against your clit, teasing you. "Gentle.. yeeah... mn.." He muttered, getting lost in this bit of pleasure. "So good for me.."
Gentle. Slow. Teasing. 
Fuck, you couldn't take it. He had to be grinding against your cunt for two minutes straight now. 
"Jax..please..please just put it in.." 
"Mmn. Don't worryy..  I'll take of care ya, make you feel reeaal good.." "He said and let go of your hands as he focused on lining himself up with your hole, his tip nudged at your tight hole. Slipping a few times when he tried to push forward, "Too fuckin' tight doll, hold on yeah..? Your cute cunt seems to need some convincing.." He thrusted forward rather hard, a few inches finally pushing past the resistance in your cunt. 
"Jax..!" You yelped in pain, a burning sensation was felt in between your legs and he shushed you, staying completely still. "Hey, hey.. I've got ya, I'm right here.. breathe doll." He said and watched your expressions.. so determined to take him, yet so vulnerable. It made him throb inside of you.
After a several seconds you finally spoke. "Y.. You can move now.." 
He was trying so hard to hold back, it's been forever since he was buried in a pussy. So once you gave him the okay he began to move, albeit slow. More inches sunk into your wet hole. Causing your back to arch a little, "Nngh..." Jax was grunting in your ear until he finally bottomed out inside of you, "There we go, nice and deep in there... ya feel that? Feel me?" He said as his hand traced your stomach just long your belly button.
"So big .. Jax.. feels good.." You panted out, unintentionally bucking your hips forward. "Mmn.. I know doll, Im gonna move alright..?" He said and you nodded, arms around his neck now as he started to slide in and out of you, lewd squishing noises and soft moans and grunts filled the room. You were both lost in the pleasure, your body relaxing more and Jax becoming a bit more rough.
"Yeah.. nngh.. ju-just like that ... take it .." He panted out, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder, his hips were a blur now but your expressions and cries of pleasure was all the reassurance he needed to keep drilling into your cunt. 
Your mind felt cloudly with lust, but that unmistakable knot in your stomach was only getting tighter, threatening to burst. He could feel you, and took this opportunity to draw gentle circles along your clit, "T.. There ya go.. wanna come for me, c'mon.." He egged you on , rolling his hips deep into your cunt. His full weight accompanied each hard thrust.
You tried to hold on , but he knew how to hit every sensitive spot. Over and over. His hips slapping against yours , the sound of your bodies colliding rung in your ears.
"Ffuuahh Jax, gonna co.. come .. gonna..!!" You whined, nails digging into his back as you held him close. Cunt clamping down on his size hard. His own hips stuttered, "D..Damn it, doll.. ya tryna milk me or something..?" He sighed as he spilled into your cunt, unable to resist the way you clamped down onto him. 
He gave a few more shallow thrust, forcing back in the cum that threatned to spill out. "You're perfect.." He sighed out, clearly spent and slowly pulling out of your twitching hole.
"Mmn.. thank you Jax, for this.." You kissed his cheek and out of all things, that seemed to make him flush a little. 
"Don't sweat it.. let's," He cleared his throat, "Get you cleaned up alright.. I'll run a bath," 
"Can't we cuddle for a bit first..?" 
Jax froze and rubbed his neck, "Look toots, I'm not sure about gettin all cuddled up on cum stained sheets," He rose his hands, "Hey, but if thats what you're into I'm not one to kinksh– oof." You tossed a pillow at his face, and he chuckled. 
"Heh, like I thought, now let's get all cleaned up first, then I'll cuddle all you'd like doll.
"Sound like a deal?" 
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javiscigarette · 8 months
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Sweet Spot
Summary: You get a promotion at work, so Joel dresses you up and takes you out for dinner but you're hungry for somethin else
Warnings: no use of y/n, smut with the tiniest sliver of plot, established relationship, fingering, fingering in public, rough sex, oral (m receiving), spitting, a bit of choking, daddy kink ofc, degradation,
w/c: 9k (omfg) of pwp :)
a/n: I don't loveee this one but I've been sitting on it for three months and I can't get the image of freshly showered Joel out of my mind so. Here we are. Also the daddy kink as taken over, I cant stop and I'm NOT sorry!! Pls let me know what you guys think, your comments and love are the only things keeping me going. (also also, if you're someone who likes making edits for pics PLS message me I am desperate and really bad at making them)
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Joel is in the driveway leaning over the hood of his truck when you pull up to the house, fiddling with whatever new project he decided to start this afternoon. You’re able to catch a quick glimpse of his shirt riding up a bit, exposing an inch or two of the skin of his back before he hears your car and turns around. 
You pull into the driveway next to his truck and hop out as soon as you’re in park. The warm sound of Joel’s laughter fills the air as you squeal excitedly, running around the front of your car and into his outstretched arms. He pulls you close into him, his black t-shirt hot from the sun has he squeezes you tightly. He smells like motor oil and sweat and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you going just a little bit. 
“M’guessing it went well?” Joel asks when he pulls back, chuckling as he watches you bounce up and down on your toes. 
You’d been working on this presentation for your job for two weeks now, spending hours smoothing out every minor detail, giving mock presentations to Joel and staying up late worrying about how it’ll go. 
“Everyone loved it, Joel!” you nearly shout. 
“And guess what?” you ask, not giving him any time to respond. “I got promoted!” you squeal. 
Joel’s chest is about to burst with pride. 
“M’so proud of you, angel. You worked so hard for it.” Joel tells you, his voice soft and sincere as he holds you against him. 
“We need to get in the shower,” Joel says, turning away from you to lower the hood of his truck. “I’m taking you out.” 
—-----------
You sit on the edge of the bed with your towel wrapped around your waist, waiting patiently for Joel to return from the closet. It's no surprise when he returns with a bundle of black fabric – in his hands is his favorite thing you own: the lacey black 3 piece set and the thigh high stockings to match. 
He has a wide smile, his eyes sparkling with affection as he looks at you. With a soft smile in return, you drop your towel allowing it to pool on the bed around you as you expose yourself completely for him. 
“You’re so pretty, baby” 
Your ears perk up at the slight strain in his voice. You look down and grin, the outline of his half-hard cock clear as day under his black boxer briefs. 
“We’re never gonna make it to the restaurant” you laugh and move to stand up for him, despite wishing he would just give in right now and fuck you until you couldn’t see straight. 
But he just shakes his head with a chuckle as he takes your place, sitting on the edge of the bed with you standing between his knees.
“Yes we will, angel. And we’ll play when we get back, give you whatever you want…if you’re good” Joel promises, easily reading your mind. 
You huff dramatically as he picks out the garter belt from the pile and holds it up to you. He doesn’t say anything, just braces himself when you reach out and grip his shoulder for balance as you lift up one leg.   
He bends over, holding the belt open so that you can step with one foot and then the other. He then straightens back up, pulling the fabric up your legs as he does so. Heat pools in your tummy when you look down at him and see his brows knitted together in serious concentration as he dresses you. 
He does this all the time. The routine is committed to muscle memory at this point. 
It’s not that he cares about what you wear, he couldn’t give two shits as long as you’re comfortable. But the power in deciding what you’re going to wear underneath, or if you’re going to wear anything at all, gives him a rush. And he’s positively obsessed with being the one to dress you up in it, says it’s like “wrapping his own present that he gets to rip open later”. 
Goosebumps erupt all over your skin under his warm fingers. You feel so beautiful in these moments, with Joel so focused on your body inches away from his face, his eyes wide and his cock hard just at the mere sight of your exposed skin and the excitement of seeing you in whatever he picks out for you. 
He settles the belt around your waist, making sure all the edges are untucked and lying flat before reaching for the thong and repeating the process. 
“So fucking, pretty” Joel mumbles as he smooths the lace over your hips, adjusting the elastic so it stretches perfectly over your skin. Then he’s spinning you around so until you’re facing the other away, your ass on full display for him. He can’t help but press a kiss to your cheek before straightening out the back of your thong, his mouth watering at the sight of the thin strip of fabric disappearing in between your cheeks. 
Mindlessly, he reaches around to your front and slips his hand between your thighs. The tips of his fingers just barely brush over the lace of your thong but he can feel the heat of your swollen pussy underneath. 
 He sighs and wraps his other arm around your waist and pulls you back into him until his cheek is squished against your lower back, his scruff scratching lightly against your sensitive skin. His fingers keep dancing over you with minimal pressure behind his touch. 
“Joel,” you whimper quietly, already getting all worked up from his minimal teasing. He just shushes you and presses another warm kiss to the back of your hip. After a couple more seconds of light brushes he slips his middle finger into the side of your thong to find your entrance and immediately sinks it inside of you. 
You yelp in surprise, and reflexively try to take a step away from him, but he’s got you tight in his grip. 
“Just wanna feel you, baby” Joel mumbles against your skin, his beard tickling you and making the muscles in your lower back twitch. He closes his eyes, fully focused on feeling your wet walls flutter gently around his finger. His brow furrows and his mouth drops open slightly when he hears your quiet whimper, the sweet sound going straight to his already painfully hard cock. 
He doesn’t even mean to tease you most of the time. Sure, he loves seeing you get all worked up just from a few gentle touches and he adores watching you fall apart underneath him, collapsing into a begging mess for him before he’s even really done anything. But most of the time it’s a genuine need to touch you. It’s like he needs to have physical contact with your body at all times, serving as a reminder that you’re real, you’re here and you’re all his. 
He slides his finger out a few seconds later, much to your disappointment. But before you can complain, he spins you back around and stares you in the eyes as brings his finger up in front of you and gently pushes it between your parted lips. You allow him without any hesitation, and he watches you in awe as you lick and suck his finger clean of your arousal, his jaw slack and eyes dark and wide.
“Ain’t it sweet, angel?” Joel asks, breathless with amusement and lust. 
You nod and he grins before slowly sliding his finger out of your mouth. 
“S’a good girl, baby” Joel comments as he reaches for one of the thigh high stockings. His praise wraps around your heart and melts into your veins, just his simple words making you feel warm and floaty. 
You watch him as he bunches up the stocking at the foot, holding it open for you to step in before pulling it up your leg. He smooths out the lace edge and makes sure that it’s even all around your thigh before he fastens the clips of the garter belt to the top of the stocking. He does the same thing with your other leg before turning you around again and fastening the clips in the back. 
Joel turns you around so you’re facing him again and then presses a kiss to the top of each thigh. 
“Fuckin’ perfect” he sighs as he leans back and admires his work. 
You blush under his gaze, his eyes burning holes in your skin as he stares hungrily. He stands up after a few moments and reaches for the matching bralette, helping you slip it over your shoulders before fastening the clasps in the back. 
He looks down at you and tries to resist the urge to touch you again but he can’t keep himself away. And the small moan you let out when he brings both his thumbs up to brush over your nipples through the lace has him nearly giving in right then and there. 
You look up at him with pleading eyes, silently telling him that you’re not going to be good for much longer if he keeps this up. He stares back at you and thinks about pushing you, letting you act like a bad girl before fucking some sense into you. But he decides he wants to show you off first. 
“Go get dressed, baby” Joel instructs gently with a smile. “Pick something nice for me.” 
— 
You decide on a black dress, one that clings to all the right places while just barely concealing the tops of your stockings and the clips holding them in place. You finish getting ready in the bathroom, and when you walk back out to the bedroom, you nearly collapse at the sight in front of you.
Joel is standing in front of the floor-length mirror with his back turned to you. He’s wearing a simple outfit: black trousers with a black button down to match. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone and your mouth waters at the exposed skin of his thick neck and broad chest. 
It’s almost unfair how good he looks with his hair pushed back just slightly, the damp locks just starting to curl into their usual pattern as they air dry. Your heart races at the thought of tangling your fingers into the ones laying at the nape of his neck. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and he smirks as he finishes rolling up his sleeves until they rest perfectly at his elbows.
He then reaches for his rings – the ones you got for him as part of his birthday present earlier this year, the small gold bands that you insisted would look good on him – and picks them up from where they’re sitting on the dresser. And clearly you were right because when he turns to face you, you almost moan out loud watching him slide a ring down one pinky and then the other. He crosses the room towards you, your knees trembling as he shamelessly rakes his eyes up and down your figure. 
“Stunning” Joel whispers, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. His hands easily find your hips and he gently turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, your back pressed into his warm, broad chest. 
“I love you, angel. And I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, you know that right?” Joel asks as he wraps both arms around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder. 
“Yes, Joel, I know. I love you too” you giggle, easily flustered at his praise. 
“M’serious, baby. So proud of how hard you work, how dedicated you are” Joel starts, moving to nuzzle his face against your neck. “How smart you are” Joel continues, his lips brushing delicately over your sensitive skin. You melt so easily underneath him, relaxing into the soft glide of his warm palms up and down your sides as he whispers sweet words of praise into your neck. 
“And I bet you looked fuckin’ sexy doing it too” Joel growls,  his hands tightening on your hip. You let out a mixture between a sniffle and laugh and then feel Joel’s lips curve into a smile against your neck. He presses a kiss behind your ear and straightens back up and turns you around to face him. 
Joel’s heart turns to liquid when you look up at him through watery lashes with a wide smile. He smiles down at you and brings a hand up to wipe away your tears with the pad of his thumb before placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. 
“Now let’s get goin’. I think my good girl deserves to be spoiled.” 
— 
Joel was back to teasing you as soon got in his truck and continued to do so the whole ride to the restaurant. He kept one hand on the wheel, using the other to slide up and down your thigh, occasionally fiddling with your garter straps or just brushing the lace edge of your thong with his fingertips.
And now you’re seated at a table in a dark corner of the dimly lit restaurant, and you can barely think straight. Joel had spoiled you with the most expensive champagne, far more appetizers than two people could possibly eat and a main course of delectable pasta on a plate bigger than your head. And of course, he looked devilishly handsome the whole night, and he knows it too, smirking and looking at you like he’s about to pounce across the table and devour you. Now you sat there with a full belly, but you were still hungry for revenge. 
“What’d your coworkers say? When they saw you got promoted” Joel asks as he pours you both another glass of champagne. You furrow your brows at his question, so far away from even thinking of that whole situation at work and so turned on that you almost completely forgot about the reason why you’re even here right now. 
You look up at his face, forcing yourself to peel your eyes away from the muscles bulging underneath his shirt as he sets the bottle back down. He has that knowing look in his eyes when you find them, his signature smirk thinly veiled with a sweet smile. 
Without even trying to answer his question, you slide down slightly in your chair. He watches curiously as you shift in your seat for a few seconds. Just as he opens his mouth to ask you what you’re doing, your warm foot presses against the crotch of his pants. 
He freezes in place. His hand visibly tightens around the stem of his champagne glass, and you can see the muscles in his jaw twitching. You fully expect him to push your foot back to the ground, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just leans back in his chair and spreads his knees giving you more room to work. He tilts his head and stares at you, a smirk creeping up on his lips when he sees the devious twinkle in your eye. 
You look back with a smirk to match and experimentally wiggle your toes against him. Your heart pounds in your chest when he narrows his eyes at you and slowly moves his hand beneath the tablecloth. You stop wiggling your toes when he wraps his hand around your ankle, the heat radiating from his palm to your skin like a hot iron through the thin material of your stocking. 
“Think about it, angel” he warns quietly. There’s a brief pause, where you pretend to weigh the risks and rewards, trying to decide whether to be good or bad. But your mind was made up before you even left the house. 
After a few seconds, you smirk back at him and press the ball of your stockinged foot against him. Joel chuckles and leans back in his chair again, watching you amusedly. He doesn't move, barely even flinches when you press a little harder against him and it’s infuriating. It's completely unfair how he’s able to literally bring you to your knees with a single touch but remains completely composed when you touch him. 
But what you don’t see is his heart hammering in his chest or the sweat starting to prickle the back of his neck. Truthfully, he had been just as turned on as you this whole time. Actually, he could feel the heat stirring the second that you told him about your promotion. 
He was barely able to hold back when he was picking out your lingerie for the night. He had to take a break in the closet, leaning against the dresser as he took a couple of deep breaths to try and calm himself down.
And when he started dressing you, he could’ve come right there in his boxers at the sight of the garter belt sliding up your waist.  Then the ride over here, the smell of your perfume mixing perfectly with his cologne in the cab of his truck, his head going fuzzy at the scent that seeped into the fabric of his seats, a reminder of you that’ll stick around for a few days. 
And now with your foot covered in the delicate mesh of the stockings that he dressed you in pressing deliciously against his aching cock, he’s rapidly losing his self-control. 
But Joel is just as stubborn as you, not willing to give in so easily. 
So, he bites his tongue and suppresses any noise and tenses his muscles trying not to flinch. Because seeing you get frustrated like this was just turning him on even more. He’s about to say something but you see the waiter coming up behind him and immediately move your foot back to the floor and sit up straight. 
Joel exhales heavily, releasing all the tension he was holding. He doesn’t even hear what the waiter says, too busy admiring the flustered look on your face and the slight shake in your voice as you talk to the waiter. 
The waiter leaves after a few moments and you face Joel again with a mix between a pout and a glare. 
“What was the plan there?”  Joel asks, cocking his head to the side in mock curiosity while he secretly prays that his voice doesn’t crack. 
You don’t respond, just keep glaring at him as you shove your foot back into the shoe. 
“You were being so good, what happened?” Joel presses, each word drenched with sarcastic concern. He watches delightedly as you huff and cross your arms over your chest. 
“S’okay, baby” Joel says, his voice dropping half an octave. Your stomach flutters with excitement.
 This is exactly how Joel starts off every proposition and you can’t wait to see what he wants you to do next. 
Joel pauses and looks at you with an evil glint in his eye. You should’ve seen this coming from miles away. But it still slaps you in the face when he says it. 
“I want you to slip a hand under that pretty dress and touch yourself. Right here, right now.” Joel says so quietly that you barely hear him. 
Your breath gets caught around the lump in your throat and Joel just smiles at you. 
“Go on, baby. Since you’re so needy and set on bein’ bad” Joel encourages after a few seconds of you not moving. “Or we can get the paddle out when we get home?”
The threat of paddle was more than enough.
You glance around to see if anyone can see you like this. No one was sitting near you though, the booth you’re in provides a decent amount of privacy and all direct lines of sight to you are clear. With a gulp and shift down in your seat again and your pussy throbs, pathetically turned on as you slide your hand under the tablecloth and up your dress. You move slowly to slide two fingers into the side of your thong, just like Joel did an hour earlier. 
It’s no shock how wet you are, the lace of your thong absolutely soaked, your whole cunt swollen and slick with it. Your eyes flit up to Joel’s and he gives you a small, encouraging nod.  
“You’re soaked for me, aren’t you angel?” Joel asks. His voice is so calm and steady that you almost stop and get up to walk over to his side of the table and strangle him. You’re so turned on you can barely breathe, and you’re pissed at him for it. It’s maddening how he has you so needy and desperate for him that you’re willing to touch yourself in publicwhile he just watches.
You give into your temptations easily, working quickly to soothe the aching need that spreads across every single inch of your skin. You glance around again, making sure no one is looking before you ease your middle finger into your dripping entrance, your eyelashes fluttering a bit as you curl your fingers and press up against your g-spot. 
Joel’s head is swimming as he watches you finger yourself right there in front of him in this restaurant. Any moment someone will pinch him and tell him to wake the fuck up because there’s no way in hell that this actually happening.
His head is foggy, turned on just as much as you are. His cock strains in his pants, tingles rushing down his spine as he stares at you, biting your lip, your eyes barely open and your eyebrows drawing together as you try to hold back soft moans. 
He wants more.
“Faster.” 
You snap your eyes open and look at him as if to ask if you heard him correctly. The look he gives you tells you that you absolutely did. 
Well, you’re not gonna say no to that. 
Your teeth sink deeper into your lip as you heed his orders and start pumping your finger faster. You’re painfully aware of any sounds you make, whether it’s a moan clawing its way up your throat or the slick sounds of your finger gliding through your folds, you try your best to keep it down. 
Joel of course isn’t any help. 
“Don’t be too loud, baby.” Joel whispers before taking a large swig of champagne. “Wouldn’t want ya to embarrass yourself” 
You shoot daggers at him over the dinner table, but you don’t slow down. And now he’s stumped because does he punish you for being bad, playing footsies under the table with him and fingering yourself in public or should he praise you for being a good girl and listening to him. 
“Baby,” Joel starts, his voice tight in his throat. “Show me, I want to see.” 
To his surprise, you obey easily enough and slide your finger out from under your dress. You bring your hand out from under the tablecloth to present to Joel. His adam’s apple bob in his throat, swallowing thickly at the sight of your middle finger absolutely coated in your wetness, some of it glistening on your palm as well.  He nearly loses it when you spread your fingers apart, thin strings of your arousal stretching between your digits. 
“Fuck” Joel hisses. There’s a tingle of delight in your stomach as you watch him shift in his chair, finally starting to visibly crack. 
He doesn’t say anything else, just reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket to grab his wallet. He hastily pulls out more than enough cash and nearly slams it on the table before standing up. 
“C’mon” Joel commands firmly, extending his hand out to you. You blink at him, not moving a muscle otherwise. You don’t know why, something innate inside you when you’re around him, but even when you're inches away from an orgasm you still find room to be bratty. 
“And what if I wanted dessert?” 
Joel’s jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth together, the tendons in his neck pressing against his skin and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the smirk forming on your face
“Angel,” Joel huffs. “Get up right now and I’ll give you anything you want.” 
That’s all it takes. Joel shakes his head when you immediately grab his hand and pull yourself to stand up. 
“Such a fuckin’ brat” Joel mumbles as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side. He practically drags you out of the restaurant, his grip tight on your waist and your heels clicking on the asphalt as you trot next to him to keep up with his long strides as he speeds back to the truck. 
Ever the gentleman, he opens the passenger door for you, keeping his eyes glued to your body as you climb inside. With you safely inside, he slams the door shut, the sound of your heavy breathing fills the otherwise silent cab of the truck as you watch him walk over to the driver’s side. 
You wait a few moments to see if he’ll say anything, but he just stares straight ahead, the muscles in his jaw flexing subtly like he’s chewing over what he’s going to say next as he shoves the key into the ignition. 
He backs out of the parking spot and leaves the parking lot without saying a single word. Meanwhile, you’re a mess sitting next to him, 
You manage to keep your mouth shut for one whole minute. 
“I was just following your instructions” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest with an exaggerated pout. His jaw shifts to the side but he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even look at you. 
You sigh dramatically and glance sideways at him to see if he’s looking. But he keeps staring straight ahead. There’s a small part of you that realizes that this is probably all part of his grand plan to drive you up the wall, work you up until you can’t take it anymore. But there’s a much larger part of you that desperately wants his attention. 
“And isn’t this my treat anyway? Shouldn’t I be getting what I want?” you press, dipping into dangerous territory just to try and get a reaction out of him. 
Still nothing. 
The thought of slipping your hand under your dress again crosses your mind, but his earlier threat of the paddle quickly extinguishes it. 
All you can do is sit there with a pout etched into your face and ride the rest of the home in silence. 
You’re about to explode when he pulls into the driveway. He slides out of his seat and strides over to your side and opens the door. The fire in his eyes burns fiercely as you take your sweet time climbing out. He slams the door shut behind you as soon as you’re out and turns on his heel and quickly makes his way to the door. You groan and actually stamp your foot in frustration. It’s just not fair. 
You stomp towards the door, arms still crossed over your chest. 
“You said you’d give me anything I want” you call after him, recalling his words from earlier as you make your way inside. 
You barely make it through the door before he’s pushing you against it, using his whole body to keep you pinned in place. Your breath catches in your throat and your knees weaken instantly, all of your resolve immediately crumbling around your feet. 
He has one hand on your waist while he braces himself with the other one on the wall next to your head. His face is inches from yours and you can smell the sweet champagne on his breath and the cologne on his skin. His eyes flit from yours to your lips, his pupils blown so wide that there’s just a sliver of brown around them 
“I said if you were good” he hisses, his voice dangerously low. “What you pulled back there? That was bad, baby. Real bad.”
“You’re the one who told me to finger my-” 
Joel’s hand flies from your waist to your throat, his broad palm pressing against your windpipe while he squeezes either side of your neck with his thumb and fingers. Heat surges down your spine and settles in your lower abdomen, your aching sex throbbing pathetically in response. 
“Don’t you try to fuckin’ spin this on me, sweetheart” Joel snarls. 
Maybe he meant to strike fear in you, maybe try to teach you a lesson. But it’s exactly what you want. Joel knows it too – you can tell by the slight smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips in response to your small, breathless gasp. 
“Was just trying to be nice to you” he starts, his voice so low at the point you doubt you’d be able to hear him from any further away. “Try to take you out to a nice restaurant to celebrate and that’s how you repay me? Playin’ with me like that under the table and then actin’ like a spoiled brat all the way home?” 
You both know he’s playing up his part. These were all minor infractions at best. Both of you knew that. You had been in this position for much, much worse behavior. But Joel isn’t dumb, and he’s well aware of what you want - to be tossed around a little, roughened up and broken down until you’re a squirming mess.  And who is he to deny you of that?
You chew on your lip before muttering a small “M’sorry daddy” 
Joel’s eyes narrow even more, the hand on your throat tightening slightly as your carefully chosen words have the exact intended effects on him.
“No, you ain’t” Joel growls. “But you will be. Get on your fuckin’ knees.”
He drops the hand from your throat and takes a step back. You exhale the breath you were holding, and you stare at him as his hands fall to his belt. Just the thought of having him in your mouth has you nearly drooling. 
But you’re not done yet.
“No” you say plainly, crossing your arms over your chest once again. 
Joel’s hands freeze on his belt, his eyes burning holes into you as you stare right back, not moving an inch from where you’re standing. 
He raises one eyebrow slightly as if to say I hope I didn’t hear what I just heard but you remain silent and motionless. After a few long moments of complete silence, Joel chuckles softly, his hands falling to his sides in defeat. He gives you one more look and then shakes his head before turning around and heading towards the bedroom.
You’re about to call after him, ask him where he’s going, but his earlier threat of the paddle floats through your mind once again. That has you panicking nearly instantly. 
You watch in disbelief as he disappears up the stairs. Your legs feel as though they’re stuck in wet concrete, and it takes a few seconds to coordinate your mind and body to get you to move. You scamper after him, a cold sweat tingling on the back of your neck as you head towards the bedroom. 
He’s sitting on the edge of the bed when you walk in, in the middle of untying his shoes. You stand in front of him, arms behind your back and patiently wait for him to toe his shoes off. 
He kicks them to the side then looks up at you with a heavy sigh, like your behavior is causing him physical pain. You offer him a meek smile as he rests his palms behind him on the mattress and leans back, his eyes raking over your body as he does so. 
He doesn’t say anything, which you take as an invitation. 
You move to climb into his lap. He doesn’t reprimand you, but he doesn’t move to hold you either. 
You sit on your knees, your legs straddling his. You can feel him through his pants and your soaked panties, still hard as diamonds. That’s a good sign at least. 
“M’sorry, daddy” you say again, much more sincerely this time. You bring your hands up to fiddle with the collar of his shirt, avoiding his eyes as you wait for a response that never comes. 
“Just wanted to play” you confess quietly. Joel still doesn't say anything, but his eyes follow your hands as you start toying with the buttons of his shirt. 
“And you just looked so handsome tonight” you continue, undoing the first button. You wait again. Still no response. 
“Thank you for taking me out” you say as you undo the next button. 
“And for dressing me up” 
Another button. 
“Making me feel so beautiful” 
And another. 
You undo the last button then push away both sides so that his whole torso is on display for you. You stare for a second, fixated on the steady rise and fall of his broad chest, the soft curve of his tummy, and the trail of hair disappearing under the waistband of his pants.
He remains silent still as you place your hands on his abdomen and slowly slide them up to his shoulders before crossing your arms behind his neck. Finally, you drag your eyes up and look at him through your lashes. His gaze is soft and much warmer than you were expecting. 
“Promise I’ll be good.” you say, barely above a whisper. 
He gives you a half smile and brings a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. 
“You want daddy to make you feel good? Want me to fuck you til you fuckin’ stupid” Joel asks, tilting his head to the side acting like he doesn’t know the answer. 
You nod vigorously and poke your tongue out to lick at the tip of his thumb, just for good measure. 
“Thought so” Joel says as he pushes his thumb past your lips. You suck on it eagerly and let him press down on your tongue, your clit twitching with desperate need. 
“Then why don’t you show daddy how sorry you are, and I might reconsider gettin’ the paddle out.” 
You immediately pull off his thumb and sink to your knees without any further instruction. You reach for his belt, deft fingers unbuckling the belt that you’ve undone so many times before, his button and zipper following soon after. 
He stops you there and moves to stand up. You sit back on your knees with your hands on your thighs and watch as he quickly shucks off his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him. You chew on your lip as he pulls down the waistband of his pants and boxers, his cock bobbing heavily as he steps out of them. 
Your completely transfixed by it, the veins running along the length, the redden head and the drops of precum leaking from the slit. You don’t even realize you’re staring until he slides a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. 
“Turn around” he instructs simply. 
You have no reason to disobey at this point, so you do as you’re told, turning in the small space between Joel’s leg and the edge of the bed. He takes another step forward, backing you up into the side of the mattress. 
“S’this what you wanted, baby?” he coos as he wraps a hand around himself. 
“Yes, daddy. Always want it” you respond. You look up at him through your lashes, batting them for added effect. 
“Yeah, I know you do” he rasps, taking another small step forward. He rests the head of his cock on your bottom lip, smearing precum. You dart your tongue out to lick it up. 
He drags the tip of his cock from your lips to your cheek, smearing more precum on your skin and giving you a few light smacks for good measure. 
It’s degrading, and should be humiliating, but it just makes your head spin, the fire in your stomach rapidly growing as you open your mouth for him, giving him silent permission to use you however he pleases. 
He groans softly as he pushes past your lips, sinking into the wet heat of your mouth. He’s only halfway in when you gag around him, tears already pricking at your waterline. 
“Oh, you know you can take it deeper than that, angel” 
He places both hands on the back of your head, gently forcing you down the rest of his length. You let him, focusing on breathing through your nose as rolls his hips forward until he’s buried in your throat. You gag again once he’s all the way in, but he keeps your head in place, holding you there for a few more seconds, groaning as your throat convulses around him 
“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Got that throat fuckin’ trained” 
He pulls out, allows you to take a gulp of air before he’s shoving back in again. His hips quickly settle into a steady rhythm, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every thrust. You brace yourself with one hand on his thigh and you can feel the muscles working under your palm. 
“Spoiled little brat just needed daddy to fuck her throat, huh?” 
You hum around him in response, reveling in the feeling of his cock twitching against your tongue. He continues to fuck your face, completely unconcerned with the tears rolling down your cheeks and the spit leaking out of the corners of your mouth. He moves one hand from your head to your throat, his palm splaying across your windpipe. He tightens his grip just slightly, pushing against the bulge of his head buried deep in your throat. 
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, thrusting in all the way and staying there. “Love feelin’ myself in that tight little throat” 
The fire in your tummy burns with blinding heat at his praise. A dull ache starts to settle in your jaw as salvia slides down your chin and neck, more hot tears spilling over your lash line as you squeeze your eyes shut and try your best not to gag. 
“Take it so well” Joel pants as he starts to rock his hips again. “Fuckin’ made to take my cock.” 
The lack of air already has you feeling dizzy, and his words are only adding to the feeling. He’s not wrong –with him fucking your face like this, a strong hand on your head and the other wrapped firmly around your throat, it feels like your sole purpose in life is to please him, to be a toy he can use to make himself feel good. And you fucking love it. 
After one more strong thrust, he pulls out of your mouth completely. His cock is dripping with your saliva, a string of it connecting his head to your swollen lips. 
“Look at you” Joel coos. You look up at him through wet lashes. 
“Bein’ so good for me.” 
He moves his hand on your throat to your cheek, cupping your jaw as he wipes some of the tears away with his thumb. He then rubs it over your wet, glossy lips, and you already know what he wants next.
“Open” he commands gently, his thumb tugging down on your bottom lip. 
You obey immediately, your jaw hanging open and a smile pulls at the corner of your lips. You watch hungrily as he gathers the salvia in his mouth before he bends down slightly. He lets it drip into your awaiting mouth and you hum happily as the liquid hits your tongue. 
“Good fuckin’ girl” he rasps before spitting again, this time with more force. A small moan finds its way out of you as you keep your mouth open and let the warm liquid pool on your tongue until he gives you further directions. 
“Swallow it.” 
You do so happily, and he hums in approval before standing up straight again. He grabs his cock and guides it to your lips again. He allows you to take one deep breath before he’s pushing in again, his fingers now digging into your jaw, his other hand back on your head as he guides your movements. 
“Such a slut for it, aren’t ya?”
You nod the best you can with his cock filling your mouth. He holds you steady, giving a few well-measured thrusts down your throat before pulling out again, leaving you coughing mess below him. He looks at you lovingly as you gasp and try to catch your breath, your lips cherry red, matching the color of the rims of your eyes.
“Doin’ okay?” he asks, voice soft and gentle. 
You nod again and give him a dazed smile before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 
“Good girl. Now stand up.” 
Joel reaches out to hold your arm as you pull yourself to stand on weak legs, your knees tight and sore from kneeling on the floor. But you couldn’t care less.
He uses both hands to hike up the hem of your dress, making quick work of lifting it up and over your head. He quickly discards it to a forgotten corner of the room before planting a wide, calloused palm square on your chest and pushing you down onto the mattress.
You land on flat on your back against plush mattress, your legs dangling off the edge. Joel reaches for a pillow, and you lift your head so he can slide it underneath. Your skin buzzes as you watch him take his place, standing at the edge of the bed between your legs. 
“So fucking pretty” Joel mutters as he smooths a hand down your front from the hollow of your throat to the tops of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He plucks at one of the black satin garter straps, letting it snap against your skin. It barely stings and you giggle and wiggle your hips in pure excitement. 
Your hungry eyes rake down his body before settling on his cock again, shiny from your spit as it bobs heavily between his legs. 
He starts working on undoing the clasps of the straps without preamble, letting you know that he’s not in the mood to take things slow, which you appreciate greatly. 
He has all four straps undone in a matter of seconds and tugs at the belt. You lift your hips, helping him to slide it down your hips and legs. The speed and carelessness he exerts as he pulls the fabric off your body is a stark contrast from how concentrated he was while dressing you in it just a few hours ago. 
With the belt out the way, he cups your pussy in his hand. The heel of his hand presses against your swollen clit through the delicate fabric of your thong, his fingers pressing firmly against the damp spot that’s been there since before you left the house. 
You whine, a high-pitched sound from the back of your throat. Joels eyes flick up from between your legs to your face, a wicked smirk curling on his lips. 
“Such a needy little pussy” he says darkly, pressing his hand further against your core. You roll your hips up and grind against his hand, chasing after the friction you’ve been craving all evening. 
But he immediately removes his hand and gives you firm smack instead. You yelp at the sensation, your clit tingling and pulsing. 
“Wanna hear you beg for it.” 
He drags his fingertips along on the edges of your panties, his touch featherlight and torturously slow. There’s a small part of you that wants to say no, that wants to argue with him, push him further, just to see what would happen. 
But you’re 10 levels above desperate for his touch. 
“Please daddy, w-want it so bad” 
Joel clicks his tongue and lands another light slap to your clothed pussy. You bite back another yelp and will your hips to stay still. 
“You know you can do better than that. Try again, tell daddy exactly what you want” 
You squeeze your eyes shut, well beyond frustrated at this point. You suck in a deep, steadying breath and exhale is slowly before opening your eyes again to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, and his jaw is tight as he looks back at you. 
“Want you to fuck me, want you so deep inside me that I can barely breathe, want you to be rough with me, make sure I can feel it for days, please daddy please. I promise I’ll be good, just – please I ne-” 
You cut yourself off when Joel digs his fingers into the lace of your thong, the sound of tearing fabric hitting your ears as he rips it off of you. 
“Joel!” you shout, sitting up on your elbows to look at him. 
He doesn't say anything, just grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. But you’re still stuck on the fact that he just casually ripped off your panties like that. 
“Thought those were your favorite pair” you mumble, looking at the discarded fabric sitting on the bed. 
“Shut up” Joel grunts as he wraps a hand around the base of his cock, steadying himself and lining up at your dripping entrance. “I’ll buy you more.” 
You’re about to say something back, but he slides in before as soon as you open your mouth, effectively taking your breath away. 
The stretch of his thick cock inside you as he sinks in all the way in one smooth motion is enough to wipe your brain clean. 
He stays still once he’s inside, his tip kissing your cervix. He curses under his breath as your walls spasm around him, already milking him for all that he’s worth.
“Always so fuckin’ tight for me. Perfect little pussy.”  
You let him maneuver you into position, one of his hands cupping the back of your knee, lifting your leg up to rest on his shoulder, both of you sighing as the angle pushes him just a bit deeper. He brings your other leg up but keeps it pinned to the bed with a strong hand on your thigh, leaving you spread open just for him. 
Without warning, he draws his hips back, sliding nearly all the way out before slamming back in. 
You cry out, your hands scrambling for purchase on the duvet. You’ve taken him countless times before. But he’s big. And no matter how wet or turned on you are, without opening you up first on his fingers, your walls are aching and tingling as he forces your body to mold to his. 
And it’s exactly what you asked for. 
He grinds his pelvis against your clit, his cock bumping into a spot that’s impossibly deep inside of you. You jolt at the sensation and reflexively try to scoot up the bed, your already overwhelmed body trying to get away from the intense feeling. 
“Oh, don’t run from it now” Joel growls, grabbing one of your hips and forcing you back down on his cock. “Begged for it all night, so I’m gonna fuckin’ give it to ya” 
“S-so much daddy, you’re so– oh fuck. You’re so fucking big” You whimper pathetically, your hands gripping the duvet so tight that your nails are digging into your palms even through the barrier of the fabric. 
“I know it’s a lot, angel. But you can take it,” Joel pants. “Can’t you?” 
You nod lazily against the pillow as he pulls out again.
“What’s your safeword” he asks, the head of his cock resting just a few inches inside of you, providing you with enough relief to answer. 
“Red” you whine. 
“Good girl. Do you wanna use it?” 
You immediately shake your head
“No.” 
“That’s my girl” Joel growls before slamming back in again, knocking the air straight out of your lungs. Your back arches with the feeling as he quickly builds up his pace. 
He fucks into you like it’s his last day on earth, fast and rough, just like you begged for. Just like he knows you need. Your whole body feels electrified while moans tumble freely past your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head. 
With your eyes closed, you don’t see it, but you do feel Joel’s lips pressing against your ankle that’s resting on his shoulder, lips warm and wet through the sheer fabric of the stocking that he never took off. 
“Little pussy is takin’ me so well, angel” Joel mumbles against your ankle “Feel so good wrapped around me, squeezing me like that” 
He starts a trail of kisses from your ankle to your knee, his hips not faltering in pace, not even once. The last of the stinging ache melts away as your walls stretch to fully accommodate him. He has an iron grip on your ankle, and his fingers on his other hand dig into the meat of your thigh, creating small purple marks under the smooth skin. The hot coil in your stomach is starting to tighten as you moan incessantly. And of course, Joel notices. 
“Get those tits out, angel.” 
You whimper underneath him and try your best to follow his instructions. Your arms feel like cinder blocks as you unclench your fists from the duvet and move your hands to your chest. You grab the cups of your bralette and tug them down, letting your breast spill out over the tops. 
Joel gives you a few words of praise that you can’t fully process. You already feel delirious, his cock quickly turning you into a useless, needy puddle underneath him. 
“Play with ‘em for me.” 
You do as your told and cup your breasts, one in each hand before gently tweaking your nipples with your thumb and forefinger. Joel gives you more indistinguishable praise as you let your eyes slip closed again, completely surrendering to the pleasure coursing through your veins. 
The hand that Joel has wrapped around your ankle slides down to the back of your thigh, pushing on your leg and forcing your knee into your chest and sending his cock even deeper. 
“Ohhh, daddy shit fuckfuckfuckk” you whine as the head of his cock nudges against the spot that only he has ever found over and over again, the same spot he finds every single time. 
“There ya go” he whispers as you start to squirm underneath him, your jaw slack and your walls fluttering around him.  “You gonna cum, pretty girl? Gonna make a mess on daddy’s cock?” 
You nod vigorously but you already know he wants more than that. 
“Want–” you try to start, but Joel’s hand landing on your clit steals your breath, a loud moan coming out instead. 
“C’mon, baby. Keep goin” Joel urges breathlessly, two of his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. “Sound so pretty when you beg. Look at me while you do it.” 
You groan and open your eyes again to meet his gaze. His chest is heaving with every breath, muscles flexing deliciously as he fucks you with everything that he has, pounding you further and further into the mattress. 
“Please let me cum daddy, M’so close –ah oh my god please let me cum please please please let me.” 
“You can cum, angel. Keep those eyes on me and show me how pretty you look when you cum on this cock” 
It’s only a few more seconds of him pummeling into you and his fingers drawing expert circles on your clit to send you over the edge.
You lock eyes with him and let out a long, loud moan as your orgasm starts to rip through you, your whole body trembling with pure, white hot bliss. He fucks you through it, on the heels of his own release as you shake underneath him, your warm, wet walls rhythmically clenching and fluttering so perfectly around him. 
“Gonna make me cum, honey” Joel grits out, his pace getting more and more uneven. 
“Inside” you manage to whine, still riding out the last of your orgasm. 
“Yeah, baby, I know. Gonna fill you up so good” 
One, two, three more thrusts until you feel his cock pulsing as he starts to spill his load deep inside of you with a loud groan from somewhere deep in his chest. He keeps fucking you, pushing his spend deeper and deeper inside of you until he he’s too sensitive to continue. He buries himself in you as deep as he can and stills. 
After a few moments, Joel straightens your legs out on the mattress then pulls out of you, moving off of you and flopping down flat on his back next to you with a heavy sigh.
Labored breaths are the only sound in the room as you both come down. You whole body feels like jell-o, all thoughts moving slowly through your syrupy head. You can’t help but giggle next to him, feeling positively euphoric after getting your brains fucked out of your skull. 
Joel turns his head to look at you. 
“What’re you laughin’ at?” he asks, a smile quickly spreading on his face. He rolls onto his side and props his head up on his hand. He wraps his other arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, despite you being dead weight right now. 
You look up at him, eyes hooded with a lazy smile. You try to think of something to say but all you can manage is another giggle, which makes Joel chuckle too. 
“You’re such a goose” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. 
“Thought I was a spoiled little brat?” 
Joel rolls his eyes and rests his cheek on his hand again, his smile still glued to his face. 
“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.” 
“So, I’m a spoiled little bratty goose?” 
“Mhmm.” 
You grin and scoot closer into him. 
“That sounds like a lot to handle” 
You squeal when he pinches your hip. 
“Tell me about it,” Joel sighs, lying his head down on the mattress and wrapping his body around yours. You smile like an idiot with your face squished against his chest, fully satisfied once again. 
Thank god you got that promotion. 
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Thank you for reading I love all sm!!!
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shawnxstyles · 9 months
Text
personal
DATE: JULY 24, 2023
summary: you and harry are best friends who tell each other everything. or so you thought. when harry finds out you’ve barely done anything sexual, he offers to change that. and then things get a little… personal.
song: Glitch- taylor swift (this song seems fitting)
words: 6.5k
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [rubbing, fingering, nipple play, praise kink], mirror sex, cum tasting??, dirty talk), and language.
note: i literally wrote this in a few days i think. this idea is so basic, but who doesn’t love a cliché concept? PART 2
bestfriend!fratrry x inexperienced!reader (because i literally write no one else and fratrry is the love of my life)
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Harry had a lot of friends. People that he grew up with and some that he met along the way that just stayed. But you were his number one overall, and he told you everything. You told him everything too.
Well, almost everything.
It never really caught his attention that you guys never talked about sex. You guys have been friends for 15 years, since you were five, so you’d think it would have been brought up at least once. But now that Harry thinks about it, he can’t think of one time you’ve talked about the act.
He didn’t think it would be like this. And he didn’t think you’d answer like that.
You and Harry were casually hanging out on a free school day, just like you always do. And then you start talking about this date you went on and how the guy was great. Harry was happy for you, he really was. All he wanted was to see his best friend happier than happy. However, being the best friend he was, he was nagging and joking with you.
“Think he’s the one, eh?” Harry jokes, nudging your shoulder playfully on your couch.
“Oh, stop it. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” You roll your eyes and cross your arms. Yeah, Mike seemed like a decent guy and maybe you could have a relationship for a short time, but he was nowhere near “the one.”
You weren’t too desperate for a relationship, you liked whatever came to you. This cute guy asked you on a date a week ago and you weren’t going to say no. Because what if he was the one? He wasn’t, but what if?
“Imagine it, Doll,” Harry started. He began calling you Doll when you two were just kids. You loved to collect dolls of all sorts, but you never dared to take them out of the box. Harry thought it was silly, but also cool. “picket white fence, beautiful lake house. Kids runnin’ ‘round—”
He saw your face cringe at the word kids. He tilted his head in confusion, arm moving to rest behind you on the couch. He scoots closer to you and waits for you to respond.
“No kids for me,” You awkwardly chuckle. It seemed almost sad the way you sounded.
“What? Thought you wanted to be a mum?”
“Not anymore,” You breathed out with an awkward smile, “need a husband to do that.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout getting a husband. Shouldn’t stop you from wanting ‘em,” Harry smiled sincerely at you and you nodded while looking down.
“Plus, you could always just go out on the street and ask some good-lookin’ lad to be the father of your kids!” You socked Harry hard in the shoulder. He lets out a hearty laugh because he always ruins a sweet moment with a stupid joke. That’s just how you like it though.
“I’m not a prostitute!”
“Never said tha’.”
“Can we just watch some TV? You’re annoying me,” You roll your eyes as you reach for the remote. Harry continues to laugh as you switch the television on.
When you’re indecisive, you toss the remote to Harry and he shuffles through the stations. He lands on a random one, also indecisive. You guys were too similar sometimes.
“Look on your phone for somethin’ and then I’ll find it. I’m done searching.”
“You looked for like two seconds!” You laughed at his laziness. He shrugs with a smile, leaning into the couch. Again, you roll your eyes playfully before doing a bit of research on your phone.
Suddenly, a moan echoes throughout your living room and your whole body stiffens up. Harry notices and tears his eyes away from the screen, which was portraying the sexy noises. You don’t look at him even though you can feel his eyes burning into you.
“Alright?” he asked out of concern, peering at your rigidness. He’s only ever seen you get like that when you were anxious or scared, but nothing happened. Maybe you saw something scary on your phone?
“Uh, yeah,” You squeaked as the TV moaned again. Your face cringes and you force yourself to keep your eyes on your phone.
“Y/N, seriously,” Harry stares between you and the screen when she noisily moans again. The woman was being eaten out by the man and was being overly loud. Her back was arching and her breasts were on display. The movie was inappropriate, 18+ for sure, but it was nothing you hadn’t seen before. Right? You were both 21 years old.
“This… just makes me a tad uncomfortable is all,” You answered honestly, voice quiet as your legs tightened together. Harry’s eyebrows pursed together.
“Uncomfortable? Why?” he couldn’t help the question that slipped out of his mouth. He was too curious to know why a little movie made you stiff yet fidgety.
Unless… you were feeling something different than uncomfortable.
“No,” You shook your head and attempted to push yourself off the couch. Harry didn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and pull you back. He didn’t want you to run away and for you to feel like you couldn’t tell him something.
“Just tell me.”
“No,” You stood your ground, way too embarrassed to say something. Way too embarrassed to admit that you’ve never had sex before. Way too embarrassed to admit you’ve never done anything more than rub your own clit. Once. And it didn’t even feel that good.
Your skin was fiery and… tingly. Harry was much closer to you than he previously was because he pulled you closer to him. Your bare thighs were touching, warm on warm with a sudden spark. You didn’t know you weren’t breathing until you inhaled deeply at Harry’s hooking stare.
“Doll, you tell me everything, but you can’t tell me why a little porn makes you uncomfortable? Because I know it’s tha’.”
“Ugh,” You groaned between clenched teeth. You threw your head back until it hit the top of the couch. Harry’s grip on your wrist never left you. He squeezed it reassuringly, letting you know that he supports you in whatever you’re going to say.
Are you really about to say it?
“Y/N, just—”
“No.”
“I thought we were best friends—”
“Do not pull that card!”
“But—”
“I’ve never had sex before, okay?” You shouted over Harry’s pleading voice and the echoing moans from the television. You’d think by the time you had a whole argument they’d be done having sex, but nope.
Harry was cut off, so his mouth was slacked open. Once he realizes his jaw is on the floor, he blinks a few times to really process what you’ve said. If you had told anyone else, they would have harshly judged you. Harry wasn’t necessarily too different, but he was your best friend, and he was going to try his hardest not too. Harry was just more shocked if anything. He had a handful of different bodies, enough to give him a good amount of experience. So when he finds out you’ve done nothing, he’s beyond surprised to his core.
“But you’ve had so many dates,” Harry looks over at your face, which was looking down at your lap. Your wrist was still trapped in his hand, but you were twiddling your thumbs like you were in trouble. He starts rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb over your knuckle. Your skin was so hot, and Harry’s theory of you being turned on continued in his mind.
Did you even know what that meant? You were naive, right?
“So? That doesn’t mean anything,” Your attitude was shining through. But deep down, you were more embarrassed than anything. This was just your coping mechanism. And of course, Harry knew that.
“Surely you’ve done something else,” Harry suggests. You pin him with a knowing look and a long blink.
“I haven’t,” You answered before even hearing his question. He clearly doesn’t care about your reply because he’s asking you a series of interrogation questions.
“Have you had someone eat you out—” Harry points to the screen, but it was on a commercial break now. You got the point, but Harry clearly didn’t.
“No,” You grumbled.
“What about fingering—”
“No.”
“A toy?”
“Where would I even buy that?”
“Or—”
“No, Harry. Nothing.”
“Not even rubbing?” he asks. You stay quiet, unsure if you want to admit the one-time experiment you did.
Why does it even matter? You tried it and you realized you don’t like it, so you never have to do it again right?
“Not… really,” You hesitated. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion while your skin burned at boiling temperature.
“Humping?”
“No—I tried to…” You couldn’t get the words out. Not ever you’d think. But especially not with Harry so close to you. His body was warm, not as warm as yours, but it was eliciting something inside of you that you couldn’t comprehend. The way he nonchalantly said so many dirty things made you dizzy.
“Tried to what?” Harry was thinking of so many things you could say. He wanted to finish your sentence, just like how he wanted to finish you until you were crying his name and soaking him. But he wanted to hear you say it. He’s never thought of you in such an explicit way, but with the words and tension floating in the air it was hard not to.
“…do it myself.”
“And how did that work out, Doll?”
“Um,” You didn’t expect him to ask. Your neck and cheeks light up in small flames. Where did this come from? “I…”
“What? I thought you could tell me anything?” When your eyes flickered up to his, they were a dark, swirling green you’ve never seen on his face before. Your heart skipped a dangerous beat, frightened with anticipation.
“I know, I can. But this… it’s different.”
“How so?”
“It’s personal—”
“Best friends are personal.”
“But not like this. Best friends don’t do this,” You tried to get up again, nearly ripping yourself away from his grip. But you were in too deep now. Harry wasn’t going to let this one slide. His mind was thinking about one thing and one thing only.
You.
He yanks you back and twirls you around, releasing your wrist in the process. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you down to his lap. You couldn’t contain the slight gasp you let out at the feeling of his strong legs beneath you. Your legs were on either side of him, tempting to squeeze shut. Every movement you made Harry would feel in this position.
“Best friends can say anything. They can do anything too,” Harry’s hands caress your thighs. They’re comforting and inviting, but are also sending a field of goosebumps along your skin warning you to flee. It’s hard to focus on anything but his touch and the vibration of his words through the air. “Now, tell me, did you rub yourself?”
“Yes,” You stutter, trying to stop your hips from squirming on his lap. He notices and grips one side of your body to steady you. It only makes you want to shift more. His touch was almost overwhelming, but you wanted more of it.
Was it wrong to want more of your best friend’s touch?
“Did it feel good?”
“No,” A part inside of you was a bit disappointed that it felt so bland. You thought masturbation was this great thing, and that’s why people did it so frequently. You heard it was also a stress-reliever, but for you, it was just a stress-inducer. Harry could tell by your tone that you weren’t lying.
“Well, you probably weren’t doing it right,” Harry replies and you look up at him with a slightly startled expression and a scoff. You didn’t expect his response to be so straightforward, like he was a doctor diagnosing you with some disease.
“How could I do it wrong? Don’t I just rub…?”
“Baby, it’s much more than that,” Harry said sincerely. He’s never called you baby before, but the nickname had your heart jumping. “Were you even wet?”
“What? I—probably? I don’t remember…”
“You would remember.”
“The experience wasn’t very memorable,” You grumble with an eye roll.
“Do you want me to show you?”
His question had your head spiraling. He wanted to what? There is no way. There is no way those words just left Harry, your best friend’s, mouth.
“W-what? That’s way too personal!” Your eyes were wide and your skin was burning. You were nearly dizzy with this whole conversation and your stomach was tight. You thought you might need to lie down for a while.
Maybe you were sick. Yeah, that’s it.
“Best friends are personal, Doll. Just let me show you, yeah? And then we never have to talk about it again. If y’don’t want. Please,” Harry’s charm was convincing you. Everything about him was luring you in, completely different than ever before. The way his eyes was dark and his touch was warm made you feel wanted and needed, which was contrary to your past dates. They didn’t look at you this way, nearly beg for you this way. They didn’t show you anything. They wanted you because they wanted to get their dick wet, but they hated the idea of a virgin.
And Harry’s familiar. He’s safe. You don’t have to be afraid when you’re with him. But then why are you so nervous?
Harry was willing to teach you how to do the one thing you’ve been curious about your whole life, and you’re going to pass up the opportunity, why? Because he’s your best friend?
Isn’t that supposed to make it better?
“Okay, fine,” You inhaled as your hands gripped onto his T-shirt on his shoulders. You had convinced yourself to let the words slip out. “Show me.”
You were agreeing almost as if this wasn’t a big deal for you. But to Harry, it was. He would take your firsts, and something about that filled him with pride. A smirk slowly rides up on his lips, “Now?”
A blush cascades through your body. Of course he didn’t mean right now!
“I-I thought you meant—”
“Shh, relax, Doll. I was just makin’ sure,” he smirks again, pulling you closer to him. He loved watching you get all squirmy and flustered more than he thought. You could feel his body heat more than ever now, and you’re surprised you lasted this long on his lap without dying. “I’m going to give you a few options, okay?”
With anxiousness, you nodded and swallowed.
“When we do this, you have to talk. So use your words, Y/N,” You knew he was being serious when he said your name, so you replied with yes and then he was giving you your options.
“So, I can lay you down right here on the couch and show you how to rub your little clit,” his explicit words were making your privates ache, but it wasn’t painful. It kind of felt… good? You felt a foreign liquid dampen your underwear, and you can only assume that’s the wetness Harry was talking about. “Or, you can do it yourself on m’thigh with my help. Which one sounds like something y’want to do?”
“The first one,” You answered, painfully desperate to squeeze your legs together to stop this ache. “But how will I see what you’re doing?”
Harry thought for a moment. You made a good point. How were you supposed to learn simply from feeling? Harry knew you were a bit of a visual learner, so he wanted to make sure you saw how to pleasure yourself correctly. And he knew the perfect way to do that.
“I actually have a third option. But s’not really a choice anymore,” Harry doesn’t say anything after, he just lifts himself and you off the couch without warning. You wrap your arms and legs around his body like a koala, making sure you don’t fall. His warmth encompasses you back and you wish you could just stay there forever.
Familiar. Safe.
When your head peers up from his shoulder, you’re in his bathroom. Your eyebrows pinch together, curious as to what his third choice was.
He sets you down on the floor until your feet are planted. You unwrap your arms from him, still confused.
“Do you trust me, Y/N?” Harry’s eyes were still dark, and you wondered if they would ever go back to the strong, emerald green they used to be.
“Yes, of course,” You didn’t hesitate to answer. There was no one that you trusted more than Harry that wasn’t in your bloodline.
“Okay,” Harry breathes, “Strip f’me. Keep your bra and underwear on.”
You nearly questioned him in shock. But then you remembered what the whole goal of this was. He was going to show you how and you were going to listen, right? So you did.
Carefully, you stripped yourself of your clothes. He’s seen you in bathing suits before, and some were revealing, so this can’t be as bad, right? Harry didn’t peel his eyes away although you wanted him to. He hasn’t seen you naked since you two were little kids, and even though you weren’t naked, it felt like you were with his burning gaze. Obviously, there were some changes too. Like height, hair, breasts, ass… the whole thing. Harry doesn’t say anything until you’re in your undergarments.
A swimsuit is definitely different.
“Good. Now, c’mere,” Harry sits down on the floor, a few feet away from his full-body mirror. His body was up against the bathtub wall to keep himself steady. You slowly lowered yourself to the floor, wondering what was going on through his head.
He pulls you between his legs until you’re pressed against his body. His warmth radiated through you far better with less clothes on and your body ached some more. Your legs closed to squeeze it away.
“Nuh uh,” he declines. Harry grips your thighs with his ringed fingers and yanks them apart. You gasp at the extreme vulnerability and the coolness that waves over your privates. He throws your legs over his and bends them slightly, making you unable to move at all. “Keep them open, yeah?”
You nodded, but that’s not what he told you to do.
“Words.”
“Yes. Keep them open.”
“Good girl. You’re learning,” Harry smiled and looked towards the mirror. His eyes instantly zoomed in on the growing wet patch on the front of your cotton panties, and he couldn’t help but smirk. He saw and felt your body squirming similarly like how you were on his lap. He’s had a rock-hard cock since this conversation started, so he’s not surprised if you can feel his hard-on poking your back through his shorts.
His hands rested on your knees as you watched him in the mirror. The entirety of it all was extremely erotic, like something that would be on TV.
“If you like something, tell me. If you hate something, tell me. It’s important that you do so, okay? It helps both of us learn.”
“Okay,” You were nearly shaking with anticipation. You were so nervous, but why? It’s just Harry. It’s just Harry. “I kind of like when you say I’m doing a good job. Makes me feel… nice.”
“Yeah?” Harry tried to conceal the smirk that threatened to rise on his lips. Of course his best friend, who happened to be the most innocent person in the world, had a praise kink. It just made too much sense. “Like when I call you a good girl?”
You sighed and nodded, but Harry didn’t say anything this time. He just kept going.
One of his hands rested on your knee, tracing delicate circles. He stayed in the same spot, for god knows how long, and you wondered when he would do something. He seemed to be in a trance. He was hyper-focusing on every centimeter with those circles, and although you were getting impatient, you felt cared for.
One of his hands snakes to your chest and rubs your nipple through your bra. Just when you were about to protest, his fingers moved a tad lower. The roughness of his pads tickled your skin just right and caused your thighs to squirm. It was entertaining for Harry to watch you get all squirrely from such a simple touch.
He’s going to have fun with you.
“It… tickles,” You observe as your eyes look down at his fingers, very gradually moving closer to that ache in between your legs. You felt like a kid exploring a new world for the first time; naive and curious.
“What does?”
“Your fingers,” You stare at him in the mirror almost as if he’s stupid. What else would tickle?
“Does this tickle?” Harry’s knuckle brushes the inside of your thighs, lower than he’s been. You inhale at the subtle sensitivity.
“Not much,” You answer, and his knuckle continues to sway leisurely. Your breath picks up, rising faster at his hand’s proximity.
“What about this?” His index finger traces the hem of your panties with purpose. You gasp when he gets deep in between your legs, outlining your cunt with ease. Your legs attempt to shut with a shake, shying away from the vulnerability, but it’s impossible with his strong legs prying you open.
“A-a little.”
“And this?”
As if his touch could be anymore teasing, he finally dances along your clothed cunt, tracing your lips with curiosity of how you’d react. A mix of a sigh and a moan wavers out of you unintentionally, hips pushing closer towards his finger. Your mind blanks, light and fuzzy. Your face immediately falls to gaze at his movements, attracted to the air-headed feeling.
“Eyes on the mirror,” Harry demands while delicately caressing you. It was ironic, really. His voice was so rough and stoic while his touch was ever so gentle. With a few blinks, you're focusing in on the mirror, obeying his command. “How does this feel? Does it tickle?”
“Good, and yes,” You swallow your moan as his finger keeps petting you lightly. You were almost getting used to it, but you wanted more. “Is this what I was supposed to do?”
“Sort of. This is called foreplay. Heard of tha’?”
“I think so?” You were breathless.
“S’basically where I get you all wet and ready f’me. You like that?”
“L-love and hate relationship right now,” You pant as his finger rises away from your weeping, covered hole and travels up to your clit. You choke out a gasp as he strokes it nonchalantly.
“Oh,” Your hand drops to his thigh, gripping it strongly as your body begins to tingle. You strain your neck to keep your eyes on the mirror ahead of you, trying to watch how he does it.
His familiar smirk never fades from his face, cheeks a tad rosy from the heat waving between you two. His wrist is probably sore from the tedious, repeated movements he does. His thick fingers delicately circle your covered clit, applying generous pressure until you’re panting.
“More. I think I need more,” You suggest when his pace stays a consistent speed. You needed to feel his fingers on your bare skin. If he was going to touch you, you wanted him to just do it already.
“Y’think?” Harry’s tone was taunting yet serious. He wanted you to be firm with what you wanted. He didn’t want you to second-guess your own pleasure. If you needed more, you needed to tell him that. The best way for that to happen was for him to train you. “Beg for it.”
As your head becomes floaty with the stimulation, you don’t even hesitate to throw out pleads.
“Please, Harry. I-I need it, need more,” Your head slowly falls back onto his shoulder before his touch is gone. “Wha—”
Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to see you. All of you. He needed to see what he did to you, and if you were really as desperate as you seemed. As shocking as this all may be to you, it was just as shocking to Harry. He couldn’t believe he was this turned on from his best friend’s inexperience. He’s always liked when a girl knew what she was doing and knew how to reciprocate. But something about Harry teaching you and showing you the ropes just fills him with a kind of power and pride that he can’t get from anywhere else. And he’s feasting off of it.
“M’gonna take these off, alright?”
“Everything? O-okay,” He unclipped your bra as you slowly slid down your panties. The tile beneath you was colder than before, but Harry’s warm body behind you kept you comforted.
“Have you heard of the traffic light system?” he asks, hands resting gently on your bare shoulders. He gets straight into the safety part first. It also distracts him from ogling your naked figure against him. He could feel his cock twitch in his briefs at your fluttering pussy and peaked nipples.
“I assume you don’t mean the ones used for driving?” You both chuckle and break some of the swollen tension in the room. It was a nice little reminder that it’s just Harry.
“No, Doll. The one for safety and consent,” he chuckled.
“Yeah, no, I’ve never heard of it.”
“If you say red, I’ll stop instantly and ask what made y’red. Communication is key. If y’say yellow, I’ll slow down and ask you again. And then we can either continue or stop, whatever y’want. But if your color is green, I’ll keep going. Understand, love?”
There was a lot of information, but you were able to keep up. It was actually similar to the traffic light system, which makes the name very fitting. You reply with a firm yes to note that you understand.
All while he was talking and explaining everything, you were getting used to looking at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t always confident in your body, but staring at it in between Harry’s made you feel safe and sexy somehow.
Before your mind can wander too far, Harry’s hands are falling down until they’re at your nipples. His rough fingers lightly pinch the already-hard buds until you’re pushing up into his touch. The warmth and the nakedness made you overly flushed all over. He gropes your breasts with care, slyly sliding another hand down lower.
Throughout this entire process, you’ve been soaking; in your underwear, in your shorts, and now on his bathroom tile. Your lower body has been throbbing in desire to be aided, and Harry seems to know just what you need.
His fingers hover right above your mound that’s screaming for him to go lower. Your heart rams against your chest in anticipation of his bare hands on your bare body, on your most sacred and vulnerable parts. No one has ever touched you beside yourself. A small part inside of you was glad that the first person was Harry because you knew you wouldn’t regret it.
Right?
“Stop thinking s’much,” he says, rubbing a warm palm over your belly. His face moves your head, so his lips can kiss your temple reassuringly. You slightly arch your back, so maybe he could see how desperate you are. Your legs were still spread by his, so you know he can see your wetness. If you can see it, so can he. “Just let me show you how it’s done.”
“Okay, Mr. Cocky,” You roll your eyes as he shifts your hair behind your ear, “What if I don’t even like it?”
“The name is very fitting. But that’s for a different day,” he says with a cocky smirk on his face. Now that sounds like something Harry would say. But your entire face gets warm and your head gets a little fuzzy when you actually imagine it. “and you will. Trust me.”
You take a deep breath. You weren’t sure how far you guys were going to go, but you’ve never felt more ready and more safe. With the system Harry told you about and all his reassurance, it was clear that even if he was teaching you, you were the one that had all the control.
“Now watch me.”
With those words his hand turns into just one finger and resumes on your clit. You gasp into the air as your body jolts. The roughness of his thumb paints your arousal over and over on your skin.
“This little thing is important. Don’t neglect it.”
His rhythm is slow and tedious as he circles the nub. You see and feel him dip down to collect some more of your wetness as he continues stroking you.
“How’s this? Color?” he gruffs in your ear while staring at you darkly in the mirror. You could barely understand him because you were panting embarrassingly and trying your hardest to focus on the reflecting glass in front of you.
“Good! Wait—green,” You corrected yourself as a moan elicited from you, his touch feeling even better each second.
“Good girl.”
“Fuck,” You feel yourself clench around nothing but your own wetness at his words. You both watch as the liquid quenches out of your dripping hole, making Harry groan from behind you.
“Do y’think you can handle one finger? Hm?” his voice rolls perfectly into your ear as he twists your peaked nipple. You couldn’t control your moans at the pleasure. His voice sounded just as good as the feeling of his hands.
“Yes, yes. Harry, please,” You nearly cried from how bad you needed it. You didn’t even know you needed it this bad. You thought you were going to hate this feeling, but you’re far from it.
“So submissive, so responsive,” Harry’s middle finger pushes against your hole, teasing the opening. You hold your breath as he makes you wait. “Breathe, Doll. Relax.”
Your eyes close for a moment. You breathe deep and feel your limbs lose their sudden tenseness. Before you can open them again, Harry’s finger is slotting inside of you easily. A gasp falls from your mouth as your hand grips on his meaty thigh for support.
“O-oh.” The feeling was insane. Intense. Nearly overwhelming. You clenched around his digit, consuming and caging it like it would fade away.
You’re so tight around him, he swears his finger might fall off. Harry’s cock is pulsing and pleading behind your back, but you don’t seem to notice. He’s making sure he doesn’t rut into you, but it’s so difficult when you’re all spread out and submissive for him.
He’s never thought of you like this, but fuck, now he can’t think of you any other way.
“Color, Doll?” Harry grumbles in your ear, voice low and breathy as it fans over your skin warmly.
“Green. What’s more than green? B-blue? Just–don’t stop–God,” Your squeaky voice rambled as his finger pumped in and out slowly. You can hear his smile behind your screwed eyes. The pad of his thumb rubbed delicate circles over your throbbing clit to escalate the pleasure.
Your chest was beating fast when your legs started to shake. Your hips bucked closer to his hands, needing more as you chase the glorious feeling.
“Look at you, takin’ me so well,” Harry praises, subtly curling his finger as your back arches. You know that one finger isn’t a lot, barely anything, but you were melting at the praise that Harry gave you. His constant encouragement is what made you putty in his hands. Literally.
“Harry,” You moaned into the heated air, causing Harry to groan desperately behind you. And you’re not too stupid to deflect that Harry might be turned on from the scene unfolding. If you knew more, if you knew better, you would have offered to help him after. But you were inexperienced, and you assumed he wouldn’t want someone to give him head who could possibly bite his dick off.
“Are you close, baby? Hm? Gonna come for the first time on my hand?”
“Y-yes! Please,” You begged as you climbed your high, wondering what the top would feel like if the chase was this blissful.
Your head falls restlessly on his shoulder while his right hand keeps focusing on your cunt. It was covered in your arousal as his pace picked up. The stimulation was almost too much, your body wanted to push away. But your mind was pleading to feel a release you know your body needed.
“Is it gonna h-hurt?” You groaned as your cunt clenched around him again, stomach tensing. A strong rush you assumed could only be an orgasm was approaching you all too fast.
“No, Doll. It’s gonna feel real good,” He twisted your nipple again, pushing you over the edge. You felt his thumb and index pinch your clit, causing you to scream his name against his chest. “Look in the mirror. Watch yourself fall apart f’me. Watch and make sure this time is memorable.”
You always thought Harry had a way with words. You never thought that about dirty talking though. His hands were as skillful as can be, and maybe one day you’ll be able to make yourself feel as good as he made you feel. But his words are something that you’ll never be able to treat yourself with. You don’t think you’ll ever meet another person whose voice is as fitting as Harry’s.
With his demanding tone, you came right over the edge. An overwhelming ripple of pleasure ceased through your body, shaking your legs to the max. Soundless moans and clawing nails were all you were capable of as you came on his large hand. Although you were straining, you never took your eyes off of the mirror. He told you to look at yourself as you came, but you were only staring at the glaring green eyes reflecting back at you. He rubbed all of your orgasm until you were trembling from overstimulation.
Just when you thought he was done, he raised his ringed hand to his mouth and tasted you. You thought that was something that they only did porn or movies. You swallowed intensely as his hum vibrated through you.
“Do you always… taste it?”
“If I think it’ll taste good,” he smirked as you scooted forward to grab your shirt. As you throw it over your head, you just had to ask.
“Did mine taste any good?” You slightly cringed as you asked the question. Does cum usually taste good? What does it even taste like?
His smirk widens, a hint of evilness rising, “do you want to find out?”
Your skin flushes even against the chilling tile. Your heart skips a beat at trying yourself. You hadn’t ever thought of it before. But you’ve come (literally) this far tonight, so why not just take it a little further?
“O-okay,” You slowly lift up your shirt, revealing your fucked-out cunt to him again. “So I just…?”
“May I?” he suggests.
“Yes.”
Two of Harry’s fingers swipe over your cunt, which was still covered in a mix of your arousal and cum. You jolted from the stimulation, tensing quickly before his touch was gone.
“Open,” and without thinking, you do. Your mouth falls open as his fingers lay flat on your tongue. Salty and creamy, it spreads over your tastebuds. You hummed around his fingers just like he did because it tasted good. Yeah, it was a bit odd, but once you got past that, you realized how erotic and sexy it was. “How’s it taste?”
After a bit of suckling on his digits, he puts them out way too soon for your liking. “Good, actually.” You creak from your dry throat.
“I think so too. Let’s clean you up real quick.”
Still sitting on the floor, a warm, wet towel soothes your sensitiveness as he wipes away all of your liquids. A smile broke out on his face when he finished before his hand landed on top of your head. He shook your hair like crazy until it was already wilder than it was. The action was childlike and friendly, almost as if everything between you guys never happened and you were back to square one. It was better that way, though. Right? To just go back to how everything used to be?
Harry grabs the small hand towel and exits his bathroom. You assume he went to discard it and add it to his laundry, but you just sat there in oblivion. You already missed his touch, longing for something you should’ve never even had in the first place. He was the one that offered himself to teach you, but now you’ve been taught, so where do you guys go now? Are you really supposed to just go back to the way it was?
He saw you in ways that no one else has before. You always thought that you would be intimate and have your groups of firsts with someone that you were dating, someone that you loved. Because of this, you realized that Harry was the safe option. Doing this with Harry changed your views on everything, and your body, heart, and mind couldn’t keep up with the rapid reversal.
You knew that Harry had a few notches in his belt. But were they all from relationships or just one-night stands? You didn’t know because you two rarely ever discussed the topic. Was it easy for Harry to go from girl to girl? Or did he get attached like you?
If there was one thing you always feared from sex and sexual doings, it was the intense attachment. You had heard about the infamous addiction intimacy laces within your veins that makes you crave a person. Now that you’ve been with Harry, that won’t happen to you, right?
You’ve known Harry forever, yet you’ve never craved him. He’s your best friend, and you’ve never seen him as more than that. If it was anyone else, you’d probably lose all control because you have no significant relationship with them. It would be easy to latch onto anybody because it would be easy to lose them too. Harry, on the other hand, was not easy to lose.
The last thing you want is to convince yourself of anything. You don’t want to “crave” Harry just because you saw something about an article online about “sexual chemicals fusing.” You couldn’t. No, it was too risky.
You’ve known Harry forever, so you couldn’t lose him forever too.
“I think I found a good movie to watch!” Harry’s voice echoes from his living room and all the way into the bathroom where you haven’t moved a muscle. Your overthinking was louder than it’s ever been. With a shaky breath, you rise from the tiles and stare at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. The same mirror you watched Harry finger fuck you with.
“Be out there in a second!” You shout back as your heart beats rapidly from his heartwarming voice laughing loudly at something. You clutched your chest, wondering why the fuck you were feeling the organ lurch for him in a way that wasn’t meant for him.
You knew that it was way too fucking personal.
thanks for reading angels 😙 part 2
taglist: @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @raajali3
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redstarwriting · 11 months
Text
the clash | vii. i wanna be sedated
hobie brown x goth!reader
Tumblr media
word count: 2k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings: language, insults, you(?) hating hobie, anxious hobie, panic attacks, mentions of death, threat of main character death, giving blood, negative self-talk, ANGST
a/n: another short one, but that’s because it’s about to get intense. there’s a possibility the series may be ending within the next two chapters, but we shall see what happens! please enjoy this one, and i promise it won’t be all angst the rest of the time lmao there will be a pay off, next chapter should be LONG and give a smidge of happiness
previous chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)
now reading: vii. i wanna be sedated
next chapter: viii. love you to death
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Hobie stares at Miguel. He can see his lips moving, but he can’t hear what he’s saying. All he can hear is his heartbeat and the blood rushing to his head. Kill? This other version of him was meant to kill you. Does that mean he’s going to kill you now that he killed him? No. No that can’t happen. He won’t let it happen.
“HOBIE!”
Hobie realizes he’s gripping the desk in front of him. His eyes are wide, and his heart is beating faster than he has ever felt it beat before. He clenches and unclenches his jaw, swallowing nothing. His throat is dry. Miguel hesitantly places a hand on his shoulder. “Hobie, can you hear me?” He nods, staring ahead of him at his hands. “I think I might know what you’re thinking. You won’t kill them. You aren’t going to take the place of Hobart on their world,” he assures him, and Hobie tries to control his shaky breathing. “You have to calm down,” Miguel says in probably the gentlest voice Hobie has ever heard from him. He forgets he’s a dad sometimes. And that he also has gone through some shit. He nods again, trying to take in what Miguel just said. He accidentally snaps two pieces off the desk with how hard he’s gripping it. He closes his eyes and takes a breath. “You were trainin’ ‘em to stop him.”
Miguel nods. “I was.”
“Does that mean I can still save ‘em?” Hobie looks at him, and Miguel sighs. “Maybe… but–”
“But what?” Hobie frantically asks, and Miguel frowns. “The Venom symbiote was supposed to take over as the Spider-Person for their world as Hobie Brown… if we defeat Venom…”
“Please don’t tell me…” Hobie whispers, and Miguel nods. “There is a 100% chance their world will collapse. It’s the final canon even in (Y/n)’s story.”
“No…” Hobie shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “No, there has to be a way! We can do somethin’!”
“Hobie…” Miguel starts, but Hobie turns his head towards him, suddenly angry. Ready to fight. “And you were just gonna let this bloody shit happen?! You care so fuckin’ much about the fuckin’ canon that–”
“HOBIE. No! I wasn’t going to let it happen. Why do you think I put so much time and effort into helping them?! I’ve been trying to fix it!” Miguel yells, “I know you might find it hard to believe but I’m not a fan of an evil symbiote taking over the world of someone I’ve been mentoring for the past month.” Hobie looks down again. “What if they just… stayed with me? In my world?” “Hobie, if their world disappears, they disappear,” Miguel explains and Hobie shakes his head. “No. Find out a way to make ‘em stay! You can do that! You have tech and all the shit to do it! We can save ‘em!” Hobie is screaming at this point, and Miguel stares at him for a moment. He sighs, rubbing his face, distressed. “There… might actually be a way,” he says. Hobie nearly falls to his knees. “How?”
“I’ve been developing something to change the genetic code of someone, making them appear like they belong in another universe. My thought process behind it is if Miles did it with the spider from Earth-42, we can do it here as well,” he explains, typing something into his computer. Hobie watches the screens. He reads everything happening in front of him, but it’s a little hard at this particular moment as it feels like everything is kind of crashing down around him. He is able to get some basic information on how Miguel would do this, though. “We’d just need somethin’ from my world, then?” he asks, and Miguel nods. “Yes… but unfortunately the process can be… painful.”
“How painful?” Hobie asks, and Miguel glances at him. “Are you willing to do anything to save them?”
“Yes!” Hobie says, and Miguel nods. “We tested it on inanimate objects until we were sure it would work, then we tested it on animals. And while it always turns out fine in the end… the process is difficult to watch. Their molecules will be rearranged and changed, tearing them apart and piecing them back together. Can you sit by and watch that happen to them?” Miguel asks, and Hobie gulps. “I can try…”
Miguel holds up a smaller device, showing it to Hobie. “What you do is you take anything from your universe, inanimate, and put it in here. I’ll also need a blood sample from you.” Hobie then notices that he’s still gripping the pieces of the desk in his hands. He opens his hands, and the remains of the desk fall out of them and onto the floor. Miguel hands the device over, and Hobie holds it, tossing it back and forth in his hands. “What do I do with this?” “I just told you,” Miguel says, glancing at him. Hobie stares at the little device in his hands. Right. He did just tell him. He hasn’t felt this scatterbrained in a long time. He takes off one of his pins from his vest, sticking it inside. It whirs and shuts tightly. Miguel takes it back from him and nods. “This should work perfectly. Now, I need some blood from you. We’ll perform a blood transfusion with the blood from your world to stabilize them as the genetic splicing takes place, luckily with the technology we have here on Earth-2099, the transfusion should take no longer than 3 minutes,” Miguel explains, as he begins walking toward his lab. Hobie follows him, quieter than he’s ever been in his entire life. Miguel glances back at him. “Are you okay to give some blood?”
“Yeah. Should be nothin’,” he mumbles and Miguel nods.
Miguel motions him to sit in a chair so he could get some blood from him. He sits. “You know, this is the first time you’ve done what I’ve said without fighting me on it,” Miguel says as machines start up, preparing Hobie’s arm for blood extraction. Hobie scoffs. “Come off it, mate,” he mumbles and Miguel shrugs. “I’m just saying.”
“I’m still Spider-Man. I can be responsible or whatever,” Hobie says as the machine takes some of his blood. “Mhm. Apparently, you can,” Miguel says, and he looks at him. “So, you like them, huh?”
“What?”
“(Y/n)? You actually ended up liking them?” Miguel asks again, and Hobie shrugs one shoulder slightly. “Guess so,” Hobie mumbles, and Miguel shakes his head. “The blood extraction should be done soon. How are you feeling?”
“Bloody brilliant,” he mumbles, and then sees Miguel’s face. “Buck up, bloke. I’m fine,” he answers and Miguel nods. “I’ll get everything ready. Bring them here, and we’ll figure out the rest. If it’s the worst case scenario, let me know. I’ll send back-up.”
Hobie stands, giving Miguel a nod, and walks out of the lab. The blood extraction did make him a little light-headed, but he doesn’t have the time to sit around and wait to feel better. He’s lost in his thoughts. He let his anger get the best of him, and in doing so, put you in danger. That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to protect you and getting that asshole out of the way was the best way to do it. He thought it was the best way, at least. But it turns out that that asshole was him. And now you’re in even more danger than you were before. If that symbiote bonds with you… He doesn’t wanna think about it. Symbiotes can fuck up a host. He’s seen it happen. He doesn’t want you to have to go through any of that. And to top it all off, Miguel was saying how dangerous this symbiote is. Does that mean if it bonds with you, it’ll kill you? And is it like his symbiotes where noises drive it crazy? How did he fuck up this bad? 
He's torn out of his thoughts by a familiar voice. “Hobie! Hey!” Gwen yells, landing next to him. “Alright?”
“I’m good. You should have seen it, Miles, Pav, and I took down Doc Ock after he escaped from prison, it was crazy. We could have used you and (Y/n),” she starts rambling off and he just listens. “Sounds great,” he mumbles, and she raises an eyebrow at him. “You okay? You seem a little… down.”
“’m fine,” he mumbles, and she doesn’t believe him, but she knows he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. Miles and Pavitr appear shortly after, talking to each other about how they did a move together that was ‘so cool!’ and how they need to show Hobie it as soon as they can. “Right, great talkin’ to you all, but I have to go visit (Y/n),” Hobie says, fiddling with his watch to open a portal to your world. “Oh, are you guys on speaking terms again? About damn time,” Miles says, and Pav leaps up and down with a little clap. “Have the two of you accepted your feelings for each other yet?” Pav asks, and Hobie just glances at him, not saying anything. Usually, he would tell him to piss off. But he’s not about to do that when he did realize his feelings for you. So he just stays quiet.
The three of them look at each other with wide eyes as Hobie steps through the portal and into your world without a word.
As soon as he’s back, the air feels a little… different. Maybe it’s just him coming to terms with what he’s done, though. He’s unsure how much time has passed since he left, but a quick glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of your room tells him he’s been gone about three hours or so. He hears a soft meow and looks to see Shadow peeking out from behind a small crack between the wall and your fridge. “Hey, Shadow,” he says, crouching down and holding his hand out. Shadow cautiously approaches him, sniffing his fingers before walking into his hand. He pets him and looks around. “(Y/n)!” he calls your name but gets no response. Strange.
He hears another meow and looks down at Shadow who is staring at your balcony doors. The curtains have been pulled over them, but he can see that one is open from the wind blowing the curtain inside. He sees the silhouette of someone on your balcony, but if it was you, you would have been saying something to him by now.
He gets a bad feeling.
He slowly stands, and Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr end up coming through the portal. “Shh,” Hobie says, holding up his hand and pulling his mask over his face. The three of them glance at each other as they realize something is wrong, too. Hobie slowly walks toward your balcony doors, pushing the curtain out of the way and seeing your form facing out towards the city. You seem to be in your suit, as you’re shrouded in black from head to toe. But it looks like a new suit. Pav, Miles, and Gwen follow him, on edge the whole time. He stares at you for a moment, but you stay still.
“(Y/n)?” he says your name, and he sees your head tilt slightly, signifying you heard him. “Is that… you…?” he asks. You turn slowly. His eyes widen and his heart drops. He was too late. He sees a toothy grin spread across what was supposed to be your mask and clenches his fists as he hears Venom laugh. “(Y/n) can’t come to the phone right now,” Venom says, their otherworldly voice causing the four spiders to prepare for the worst. “But I would like to thank you, Hobie Brown, for freeing me of my constraints.”
Hobie has a flashback to his fight with himself. “The glass…” he mutters, and Venom lets out a laugh. He feels the world close in on him. His hands shake. He was too late. You were already taken over by Venom. As if reading his thoughts, Venom smiles at him, muttering the words that make his heart stop.
“You led me to them.”
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nervocat · 2 months
Text
“The stars look down on you as you wander with your cat guide. They want to tell you a story of theirs. Will you listen to them?”
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# — Notes: I'M SO PROUD OF THIS FIC OMGG. This is my first time writing for him tho so. This is also based on Frank Sinatras song "Somethin' Stupid" hehe. (@dumbificat , @aventurintus , @rainswept ⛧ @ ing you three bc yeah :33). I've also GOTTA stop overthinking my fics bc I don't think the ending went well so now I feel the entire fic isn't good.. oops... THIS IS ALSO MY LONGEST FIC EVER BTW # — Word count: 1.1k # — Fandom: Honkai: star rail # — Cw: just a hint of angst but nothing rlly
—Somethin' Stupid
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Aventurine walks around Golden Hour, that same smile of his on his face as he takes in the scenery of Penacony for who knows how many times.
“Aventurine!” he hears you call. He immediately stops and looks behind him, and seeing you running over to him makes his smile slightly more genuine.
“Why hello, [name],” he greets you as you come to a halt in front of him. You seemed out of breath, as if you had sought him out for something.
And he wonders why you, of all people in the universe, would search for him.
“I think I've got some free time, so I was wondering if you'd wanna hang out? We don't do it as much anymore,” you say after you catch your breath, though you still breathe heavily from running.
“It would seem so.. how about we go back to the good old days and gamble with each other?”
“Aventurine!” you say in a teasing, playful tone, elbowing him slightly. The blond laughs a bit.
“What? Does [name] not want to lose to me again?”
“Whatever,” you scoff playfully. “But fine, I suppose we could go do that if you want.”
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You groan as you put your cards down on the table, hand in your hair. Aventurine — unsurprisingly — won again. While you guys didn't bet large amounts of money and you earned good amounts of it with your job, it still hurt to lose the money.
“Aaand I win,” he sets his cards down on the table, sitting casually in his chair as an arm is behind his head and a leg over his knee. “You’re definitely better than before though, might I say,” Aventurine adds with a cunning smile.
You look up at him as you lean back in your chair, huffing. “Really? I still lost though, of course.. don't think I'll ever win against you,” you answer, and Aventurine can't help but let a genuine smile sneak it's way onto his lips.
It has been a while of knowing each other, and while he has come to terms with liking you — liking being more like love — it was still an odd feeling for him.
Aventurine moves his hand to take a sip of his drink, as do you, and finds himself slipping up on his words — “I love you,” — is what he murmurs. He tenses and looks up to you, his pretty, mixed eyes meeting with yours as you hold your glass in your hand, lips touching the rim of the glass.
How could he have slipped up? How could he have spoiled this night with you? How could he have confessed like this in front of you, you whom he is infatuated with?
It's silent for a moment before you laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Oh, Aventurine, you’re really saying that here?” he could tell from your eyes you didn't believe his accidental proclamation of love, maybe even despised it in the sense he's said it many other times in a not-so-serious way (that being when he still wasn't aware of his feelings for you).
Aventurine sighs, finally taking that drink he wanted and gulped the rest of it down. “Yes, you're right, how silly of me,” he plays it off, putting his glass down on the table. “Would you like to leave for tonight, mx. [name]? We could always do this another time.”
Oh how he hates knowing he had ruined the night with you by slipping up and saying somethin’ stupid.
“Yeah, I should probably get back to work anyways,” you say as you stand up, a smile creeping into your face. “But, I'll help you clean up before I go, Aven.” said man nods, his mood having turned sour because of his own words.
But oh how right those words felt to say to you, like they have to no one else before.
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Aventurine looks at himself in the mirror the night after he hung out with you. His hat was discarded somewhere else and his glasses sat by the sink.
What was he doing? He was practicing words to say to you, to get his feelings across to you and to get you to know that they are, in fact, genuine words.
Aventurine thinks that he's ready to talk with you again, but decides to go off and do his own thing until you say you're ready to go out again.
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He walks the streets of Golden Hour again, and he perks up at your voice. Aventurine turns around with his smile turned genuine. “[name]! If it isn't you, my dear friend,” the smell of his perfume wafts over you, though it's not too overpowering this time around.
His perfume smelt nice.. you wondered why it smelt like your favorite scent, but you let it be. “I have some free time again and was wondering if you just wanted to walk around Golden Hour? It's a nice night to do so” You ask him. Aventurine nods.
“Of course, this is your free time you're spending after all,” he answers. You smile at him and as you start walking, so you don't notice the red tint coating his cheeks, a lovestruck smile on his face.
You two walk for a while, just talking about memories or things going on in the other's life. You both were normally very busy individuals, so getting one-on-one time like this was something you both valued.
You and Aventurine, after walking for a bit, have made it to a more secluded part of Penacony, the start sky view not hindered much now with the lack of buildings around.
Aventurine looks over at you as you talk about how work was for you. He finds himself saying those words again after gaining his composure — “I love you, [name],” — and you can hear the sincerity in his voice and see it in his facial expression, it holding a fondness for you.
Aventurine believes he's said somethin’ stupid again, and he was about to switch off of the topic at your shocked face and no response until you say those words back to him.
“I love you too, Aven,” he looks back at you, his eyes widening. “I realized I might've been a bit.. rude, the last time you said you love me.”
You love him? You love him? Aventurine, who is renowned to be a cunning liar and to not be fully trusted?
Aventurines perfume comes back over your senses again and you wholeheartedly welcome it as you wait for his reply. “You.. love me?” he repeats to himself as he turns his body to you.
“Yes, Aventurine, I do love you,” you cup his cheeks in your hands and he melts at your touch.
Under the stars of the Penacony dreamscape, you two share your first kiss with one another, and when you pull away, Aventurine wraps his arm around you in a gentle, warm hug full of gratitude for giving him a chance with you.
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★ — © nervocat 2024 || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦
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jasmines-library · 4 months
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Hi! I think you said that you would write for Cassandra? If you don’t it’s fine and feel free to ignore this <3
I used he/him pronouns but if you don’t do male readers you can make it gn! :)
Here we go.. So the reader is 12 and younger than the rest of the family. He is a child weapon like cass and Damian. Actually he is Cassandra’s little brother, he was made solely on defeating Cassandra after she escaped. He also has electricity powers and is as much as good of a fighter like Cassandra. So he is sent on a mission to destroy or eliminate Cassandra or another family member but the batfamily stops him. Somehow they knock him out after a hard fight and put him in a. Cell or somethin. They find out he is Cassandra’s bio little brother and are determined to help him. So they talk to him when he wakes up or something and cassandra is like really clingy and protective of him so he reluctantly stays.
If you can, can you show some snippets or short story of his interactions with others and how he is adjusting to his new life in the manor, (he also gets to be a vigilante along side them.)
BROTHER MINE
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Summary: Male Reader is a child weapon with electricity powers, created with the intent to kill Cassandra after she escaped, though when he tried to take her down and he gets caught he ends up with much more than he bargained for.
Warnings: Kinda child abuse? (It's a child assassin), violence. Nothing explicit or graphic
Word count: 2.1K
⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤
Cassandra Cain was the sole reason for your existence. Almost as soon as she left you were dragged away from your mother kicking and screaming to begin your training. Sandra feared it would happen at some point. Cain had taken her daughter, it was only in due time until he would take her son. 
Although you were older than Cass when she began her training, they still made you ruthless. They pushed you until your legs were trembling and the only thing that crossed your mind was the art of assassination. You didn’t speak anymore. It was forbidden. This meant that the parts of your brain normally used for speech were trained so you could read your opponents movements to predict their next move in a fight. You remember your mother telling you once that they did that to Cassandra too. It was one of the only things you did remember from what little of your childhood you had before it was ripped away from you. Your training was not much different from your older sisters, though your father had made one thing clear. In order to beat her you had to be better than her. So he pushed you further than he had ever pushed anyone before until something in your brain began to change and you discovered a newfound ability to manipulate electricity. They had made you into the perfect tool; smart and powerful but submissive to the right people. You were a weapon with one mission. Kill Cassandra Cain. 
You roamed the streets of Gotham, mask pulled over your face. Your time had finally come. After years of waiting your father finally found an opening on Cassandra and had sent you into the city to meet her. You had been warned that she was with Gotham’s infamous vigilantes and you had deemed it a welcoming challenge. As you walked, boots scuffling along the floor, you couldn’t help but feel that there was something so utterly wrong about this. You had pursued your sister before without a second thought, but now as you grew older and more wise about your actions a part of you buried deep within your teachings couldn’t help but feel as though you were doing the wrong thing. But you dismissed the thought very quickly, honing in on your surroundings as your training kicked in. 
You could see them now. The five of them perched on a rooftop, just above a bright billboard advertising an expensive brand of clothing. The two eldest seemed to be keeping a watchful eye over the city, even from down on the street you could see the way their heads turned and their bodies tensed up when they thought they saw something. The other two boys seemed to be having a scuffle behind them as they jested between each other. And then there was Cassandra, donning her black and yellow suit. She surveyed silently, leaning against the brick wall of the entrance to the building’s exit staircase. She was on edge, and rightly so. 
You moved silently through the building and up the stairs as though you weighed nothing more than a feather. You hugged the walls, moving swiftly to avoid being detected by any of the blinking red sensors and alarms. It was child's play really; something you could do in your sleep. 
The door to the rooftop was locked when you tried to ease it open gently, so you brought up a spark of electricity to your fingers to fry the circuit so that you could then open the door and slink onto the rooftop without anyone noticing. 
The youngest two vigilantes had since stopped their bickering and were now also surveying the skyline, but your dear sister still hadn’t sifted from where she was before you entered the building.Perfect. 
Moving silently and agilely you ran towards Cassandra and grabbed her roughly from behind. She went down with a cry of alarm but was quickly moving again, flipping you off of her before you even had the chance to think about conjuring up electricity. Her shout had alerted the other four, who quickly came rushing to her aid, weapons readdied as they charged towards you. Nightwing swung his escrima sticks at you, they crackled but you caught them one handed and sent him staggering back so you could move for the next attack. Despite the fact that you were heavily outnumbered, you managed to hold your ground extremely well by maximising your small frame and use of training to slip around them and send them to the ground. The heroes were well trained too though, and the scuffle was tiring for all of you. 
With a flick of your hand, you sent Robin flying across the roof skidding to a stop when he hit the brick wall. Finally you had managed to get rid of the obstacles in your way and could focus entirely on your sister. You turned, manoeuvring your body to land a kick to her chest but she ducked and rolled out of the way before trying to grab your ankle and pull you down to the ground. The two of you fought intensely, neither of you making much progress besides landing the odd lucky punch here and there because you were both able to predict each other's next move. Though eventually, you managed to make a false move and grip her wrists which allowed you to flip her over your body. Once you had her pinned underneath you, you began to conjure up the strength to finish your mission, but something stopped you. She looked up at you with wide eyes, one word slipping from her chapped lips.
“Y/N?”
You froze. 
At some point during your fight with her, your mask had fallen from your face without you noticing, and now she could see exactly who you were. And now your name had fallen from her lips accompanied by that look of recognition, you were stuck still. And one moment of distraction was all it took for one of the other vigilantes to regain their senses and land a heavy blow to the back of your head. 
~
Cass was quiet. More quiet than usual as she sat on the other side of the cell, peering at you from the other side of the bars. There were a million things running through her head all at once and she was struggling to process them. You were alive. You were an assassin. You had tried to kill her. It was a lot to handle. Dick seemed to notice as he glanced up at her from the computer. 
“You okay, Cass?” He frowned, worried for a moment that she was injured more than she let on, but Alfred had checked the five of them over and assured that everyone had escaped with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. 
She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought. Dick made his way over to her, sliding down on the bench and eyeing you up. You were still unconscious, Tim had hit you hard with his staff. 
“He’s not gonna get you, Cass.”
“No.” She shook her head, fiddling with her hands in her lap and completely avoiding his gaze. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“He’s my brother.”
Dick had to stop his jaw from dropping completely. “What?”
“I-I thought he was dead. They told me he was dead and now he’s…this is my fault.”
“Slow down.” He told her as the others had started to approach. 
“What’s going on?” Damian asked.
“When I was still living with my father…sometimes my mother would stop by. She seemed cruel too, but she had this tenderness. She knew I was just a child. I suppose I was too young to remember everything, but I remember her telling me stories of a little boy. My brother. Y/N.” She gestured to you. “My father wasn’t supposed to know. Whenever she stopped by she would show me pictures of him and tell me how no matter what happened I must keep him a secret…but I guess my father knew because now he is just like me.”
“Oh, Cass…” Someone placed a hand on her shoulder. 
“A few nights after I escaped, I stopped by my mothers house in hopes of at least seeing him. But he was gone. And instead I found my mother clutching a bloody sheet. I assumed he was dead. But this is so much worse.”
“We can fix this, Cass. We helped you, we can help him.” Dick told her. He understood that what you did wasn’t your fault and that you were just a scared little boy following orders.
She hummed, watching as you stirred before snapping upright on high alert from the moment you woke up. 
You were confused for a moment when you awoke on a small cot in the corner of a cell, but then it all came flooding back to you. You almost immediately noticed the power suppressing cuffs on your wrists and secure bars on the wall. Cursing, you noticed the group of people eyeing you from the other side of the room and instead of staring daggers silently at them like you were taught to do, you began to break down.
The hot, thick tears that cascaded down your face were alien to you but you made no move to stop them from falling. Cassandra furrowed her brow at your demeanour as she had fully anticipated an aggressive reaction.
“s-sorry…” You rasped out. Your voice was so hoarse from not using it for so long you were surprised that you even remembered how to talk, even if your sentences lacked half of the words they needed. “They m-made…”
Cassandra moved closer towards you, ignoring the protests that Jason made. She crouched down near you and studied you. 
“I thought you were dead.” She whispered. 
You recoiled slightly, surprised that she even knew you existed. You shook your head meekly, interacting tenderly with her and going against everything you had known, but despite that it felt so right.
“Oh…Y/N. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
“N-Not fault.” You stuttered back. 
“But it is-” She protested. 
“No.”
When one of the other boys approached the cell, you moved back hesitantly. 
“It’s okay.” Cass told you. “You can trust them.”
“We can help you.” Tim said. “If you’ll let us?”
“ c-can’t stay. Father-”
“He won’t know you’re here.” Dick told you. “We’ve kept Cass safe, we can do the same to you too.”
“Please, brother…” Cassandra insisted “Let me make this up to you.”
After pondering a moment, you reluctantly nodded. “Okay.”
BONUS:
Inspired by this image:
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Cassandra had not seen you all day and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was getting worried. When she returned from patrol, she had peered into the room that Bruce had given you, only to find it empty. She then checked in the cave to see if you were there, but all she found was a weary Tim and Jason who had been sparring. She asked around, but neither of them had seen you either. 
She was on the verge of panicking as she made her way back to your room to double check, when she heard chatter coming from Damian’s room. It spilled underneath the door with the light into the hallway. She knocked before pushing it open to a most peculiar sight. 
You were sprawled out beside Damian on his bed, with a book in hand. He guided your finger across the page as you read, helping you as you tried to decipher the words on the page.
“I-It…vuh? Vuh…Vuh-uss? It vuss? No.” You shook your head, screwing your face up as you scanned the page. Damian sat patiently beside you. “Was!” You grinned. “It was!” 
“Yes! Well done.” Damian smiled slightly. “keep going.”
“What are you doing?” Cass interrupted, making the two of you jump. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“Sorry…” You muttered. “Damian teach me to read.”
Cassandra raised a brow. “The demon spawn is doing something nice for once?”
“Tt. No.” 
“Sure looks like it.”
“No. No. it’s for everyone’s benefit. How is he supposed to become a vigilante if he can’t read? Hmm? He needed to learn, so I decided to teach him. No one else was going to do it.”
“Are you sure it’s not because you just wanted to do something nice for once?”
Damian’s cheeks flushed. “No. Of course not.”
Cassandra shook her head. “Keep telling yourself that, Dames.”
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ranhaitanisgf · 4 months
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AAA CONGRATS ON GETTING 2K FOLLOWERS!! 😭🥰 and thank you for the event! it looks fun :0 can i request rindou haitani + enemies/rivals to lovers + stuck together or 7 mins in heaven please? i cant choose between the moments so i’ll leave that one up to you if that’s okay :0 headcanons please! i don’t have anything specific that i wanna add for this request, so i hope this gives you more wiggle room to write how you want it to go ☺️ thank you and congrats again!! ❤️
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—rindou haitani // enemies to lovers // stuck together
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☆ ˎˊ˗ little rindou moment . i do not have much to add on to this, so enjoy !! xoxo
☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.0k+
☆ ˎˊ˗ gn!reader
masterlist || 2k masterlist
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“just so you know, this is entirely your fault.”
“my fault?! how the hell is an elevator shutting down, my fault?! do you think i spoke to god for a second and said, ‘hey, can you make this elevator stop working right now?’” you argued, sarcasm thick in your voice as you spoke. rindou shrugged nonchalantly, a look of boredom in his eyes. 
“who knows? maybe you’re one of those kinds of people.” 
“i am not, for your information! if anything, this is your fault! if you can recall with your idiotically small brain, you’ll remember that you’re the one who asked for a favor! from me! on a weekend! i should be financially compensated for this!” you exclaimed, pointing a finger in accusation at the boy sitting next to you. “i should still be sleeping right now!! it’s 5 in the damn morning! what was this favor you needed, anyways?!” 
“jeez, you’re so loud.” was all rindou responded with, making you even more frustrated with him. you decided not to respond though, just letting out an angry sigh as the two of you waited for the maintenance people to get you out of the elevator. 
the silence hanging over the two of you in the elevator wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. honestly though, you didn’t really care about whatever rindou wanted, you were just pissed that he was somehow trying to pin this situation on you. 
what have you ever done to him?! literally nothing. you even had the decency to come all the way over to roppongi at 5am to see what he needed help with, even though he always acts like you’re just an annoying thorn in his side. you get that he’s emotionally stunted, but seriously, what was up with him?
a knock from outside the elevator door brought you out of your thoughts, instead bringing hope that you would finally be out of this elevator soon. 
“hello! we are the maintenance crew for this building, and we will get you out shortly! sorry for the inconvenience!” 
“don’t worry about it; thank you!” you called back, relieved. you stood up from your spot on the floor, stretching a bit since you had been sitting for a while. “ugh, thank god! i’m so hungry, i could eat a three-course meal right or somethin’...” rindou continued sitting on the floor, the same stoic expression on his face as the two of you waited for the elevator to open up. he was a bit more quiet than usual, but you wrote it off as him also being tired, (who wouldn’t be tired at this early time?). 
“oh yeah, but seriously, what’s the favor you need? if it’s gonna take long, i wanna get breakfast first.” you asked, a bit more curious as to what favor he was going to be asking of you. 
“you’ll see when we get there.” 
“man, stingy…you can’t even tell me how long it’s gonna take?” 
“no.” you frowned at his answer but decided to let it go for now. 
after a few minutes, you sat back down, wondering how long it was going to take to open the elevator. you wanted to ask the people outside, but you didn’t want them to feel like you were rushing them, so you just sat and waited, feeling a bit awkward with rindou. 
looking at him from the side, you couldn’t deny that he was beautiful. he would probably kill you if he ever heard you say that about him, but in your mind, it was true. it was the first word that came to mind whenever you saw him, no matter how much of an ass he was being in the moment. his tanned skin suited him well, providing a contrast from his blonde and baby blue hair, which always seemed to frame his face damn near perfectly. how was that even possible? there hadn’t ever been a time when you’d seen him look bad, which sometimes made you wonder if he was from another world. 
“you done?” rindou asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“hm? what?” 
“you’re staring at me; it’s creepy.” you scoffed at his words, immediately remembering his personality. 
“yeah, my mistake. you would be prettier if you weren’t such an ass, y’know.” you cringed a moment after you spoke, realizing that your words probably just gave him a major ego boost. 
however, when your gaze cautiously found him again, all you could see was his flushed cheeks and that he was looking away. 
huh? no way…
you reached your hand out, poking his cheek. 
“hey, what’s wrong? look over here.” he continued ignoring you, which made you just want to mess with him even more. “hey. hey. yoohoo.” with each word, you poked his cheek, finding amusement in the growing annoyance in rindou’s face. 
when you went to poke him again, his arm suddenly shot up, hand grabbing your wrist right before your finger was going to poke his cheek. 
“stop.” 
“hmm…?” you could hear the threatening tone of his voice, but all you could see were his red ears. “if i didn’t know any better, i would almost say that you’re maybe…oh, i don’t know, embarrassed? flustered?” at your words, he let go of your wrist instantly.
“whatever…” rindou muttered, turning his head even farther away from you. 
you paused for a moment, wondering if you’d gone too far with the teasing. there was no way, right? ran definitely poked and prodded at his younger brother more than you did, so why was he acting like this? 
well, you suppose that you can make it your problem. 
you leaned your head to the side, resting it on his shoulder as you let out a sigh. you held back a smile as you felt rindou suddenly tense up, his head finally turning back towards your direction, (you found it impressive that he had managed to sulk for as long as he did). 
“you’re so emotionally stunted.” 
“shut the hell up.” 
(the ‘favor’ was having breakfast on the rooftop, but you didn’t end up getting out of the elevator until noon).
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a-kaash-me-outside · 1 year
Text
a bit dirty - ch2
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in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch2 | next [masterlist]
// most likely a bad idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 5608 ��ᴏʀᴅs
a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, more exposition in this one, osamu being a caring adorable little bitch oh my god, fucking your boss, names names names pet names a million pet names, slight slowburn? like they fuck but-, afab she/her pronouns
join my taglist here!! ~~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡
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you can’t take your eyes off of him.
you can’t stop staring at miya osamu for a number of varying reasons, each one maybe a bit worse than the last starting with oh he’s looking at you and ending with he’s your boss and also your most recent hookup with a bit of wow he’s so attractive sprinkled in the middle. 
neither of you are saying anything. the tension is palpable, evident, buzzing in the air, and you just keep strong eye-contact with him because you don’t know what else to do. what do you say to him? do you instantly address it? let him bring it up? just walk out of here right now and leave in embarrassment?
osamu is about to open his mouth, save you from this repetitive torture in your head, but he’s interrupted by another voice.
“hey,” a voice calls from the kitchen, getting louder as the swinging door is pushed open and the blonde guy from last night emerges. “unless you need me to stick around and run front of house while you train today, i’m headin’ out, kay, samu?” his voice trails off at the end as he notices osamu just standing there, confused only until he sees you and remembers you right away. 
“holy shit,” he says, “what? did ya track him down or somethin? thought you didn’t know each other’s na-” the end of his sentence trails off again as he notices the apron in your arms and the signature onigiri miya black t-shirt that you’re wearing. “holy shit.”
“atsumu, kitchen, now,” osamu says, low and commanding and despite how joking and mischievous this atsumu seems, he knows not to push it any further than he already has. he pushes the swinging door open with his shoulder and walks back inside of the kitchen. 
it’s quiet again, but he’s already spoken now, the air of his voice still lingering as you wait for him to talk once more, to you this time. you take a few more steps inside towards the counter and when you’re close enough, you let your hands rest on the edge. “sorry, let me just,” osamu says, turning around and setting the rice cooker down on the counter by the kitchen door. he wipes his hands on his white apron and then walks back over to you. 
“we should probably talk about…,” he says, not finishing his sentence because both of you know exactly what you need to probably talk about. you don’t just know this man, he’s been inside of you. you nod in agreement, pushing the thought from your mind before you get yourself all flustered, setting your apron on the counter and tapping your fingers against the fabric.
osamu takes a deep breath very similar to the one you took right outside of the restaurant, “if you’re uncomfortable at all, i would be happy to ask around to my restaurant buddies to find you a new position or write you a letter of recommendation or-”
you cut him off, shaking your head curtly, “that won’t be necessary, really.”
“are you sure?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, “i want to make sure that-”
“miya-san,” you interrupt, eyes flickering down to his name tag, “i’m not uncomfortable, i swear. i’m okay. i’m good. i wasn’t even working here when it happened. and it really isn’t a big deal, we don’t have to make it a big thing. it happened. it’s over. it’s a new morning,” kinda, you think, “and it’s in the past. i’m great to just move on from it.”
osamu is quiet, thinking over everything you’ve said, but not saying anything in return. 
“if- if that’s okay with you,” you tack on.
“yea, of course,” he responds quickly, “i just wanted to make sure that ya have a comfortable work environment and that,” he clears his throat, “last night doesn’t hinder that fact for ya.”
you shake your head back and forth. the thought of going through the process of finding another job, even with a recommendation letter and networking, is already giving you a headache. besides, you’d probably end up working for someone osamu knows anyway and then what? they know about what happened or they don’t and you have to guess whether they do or not? you shake your head harder. you can get over this. 
“‘m sorry i didn’t notice. if i’d’ve known your name or somethin’, i would’ve maybe put the pieces together, but i only saw your resume, didn’t talk to ya or meet with ya, y’know?” he says, hand on the back of his neck, eyes on the floor for just a moment. 
“no worries, i get it,” you say, tiny laugh, but you’re really thinking, wasn’t expecting my boss to be out at a club 6 hours before my shift. 
he hums, a knowing smile on his lips as if he read your mind and shot right back, wasn’t expecting my new employee to be out at a club 6 hours before her shift. 
“it won’t happen again,” you say, “already out of my mind,” you lie. 
“right,” he says, smiling, and you’re not sure if you’re reading into it or if it’s real, that same regret and hesitancy that you saw last night as he left without your number. he shakes whatever it is quickly, “lemme teach ya how to make the onigiri.” he nods towards the kitchen, pushes the door open for you and you walk under his arm, sliding past him, shoulder brushing up against his chest in passing. 
already out of your mind, yea fuckin’ right.
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if there was a chart of the relationship between the time you’ve spent working at onigiri miya and the tension between you and osamu, it wouldn’t be linear or exponential or constant in any sort of way, it would be disruptive, an arrhythmic pattern of ups and downs. 
even if the two of you hadn’t mentioned it a single other time, it lives in both of your heads, the events of that night. well, you know that it lives in your head, you suppose you can’t speak for osamu completely, but you can’t imagine the things that remind you of that night don’t remind him as well.
there are spans of time when you don’t think about it for weeks, usually the times that you aren’t scheduled as frequently or the back to back shifts that you spend busy out of your mind, no room in your head for anything other than work work work work work. you’re not sure if you welcome or rebuke these bouts.
in fact, between these mindless interim periods and the many instances that filled your head with reminiscing thoughts, you’ve survived over four months at onigiri miya without a single incident. rather, without a single explicit incident.
there were plenty of times that the chart spiked, that the chaotic pattern between your timeline and the tension skyrocketed only to fall back down to a normal level shortly thereafter, no follow up, no mention. 
it was as simple as his strong hands on your hips, exceedingly busy as he rushed from one side of the bar to the other, sliding behind you, but not wanting to bump you out of the way, unwavering grip, fingers digging into the fabric of your apron and your soft hips beneath it, a low sorry under his breath ghosting over the skin of your exposed neck. the butterflies that accompanied it and the bewildered look you threw him and the one he threw back as he approached the other side of the bar.
it was as quick as him reaching over your shoulder for something in the kitchen, fast-paced and thoughtless as his chest pressed up against your side, pushing you into the counter the slightest bit, hips pressing against your lower back, hand on your shoulder to steady you as he withdrew.
it was as innate as asking to tie your apron on one of your first days, hands smoothing over your stomach to find the strings without sight, pulling them a bit too taut as you step backwards into his hips, the way that he stayed put for a few moments before creating a bit of distance to tie it behind your back, one hand holding both loose strings as he adjusted it correctly against your waist, the carefulness of his fingers as they made a neat bow against your back and pulled it tight.
it was as effortless as a question, walking past the open door of the walk-in, “can i help you with that?” asking, arms already reaching up to support the heavy cardboard box that you were pulling down from the top shelf, not grabbing on until you nodded yes, and the second that you did, placing his hands on top of yours and guiding it down with you, soft hand on the back of your elbow, making sure, “got it?”
tonight is just another one of those nights, a night home to instances of incline and tension. you haven’t had one in a while. you enjoy living in these moments, drinking in the tiny amounts of callback to a really great night you once had. 
“shit, we were so busy tonight,” you say, throwing your bag over your shoulder, undoing your apron and stuffing it in said bag. you remove the clip that’s containing your hair, punch your employee number into the computer, clocking out and exhaling a breath without the weight of your work day resting on your shoulders. you are no longer on the clock, no longer responsible for people’s order and the restaurant's reputation. 
“yea, can’t believe you’re better than sumu and it’s only been a few months,” osamu laughs and you shrug with a false smugness. 
“what can i say?” you ask, tilting your head into your shoulder as you hold your shrug, a very genuine and prideful smile replacing your joking cocky one. “i had a really great teacher.”
“ha! so did sumu,” osamu says, pointing at you, “promise it’s not me makin’ the difference.”
ba-bump.
osamu clears his throat in the small bout of silence, shaking his head as if to reset. “anyway, seriously,” he starts, “thanks for stickin’ around and all your great work.”
“no sweat,” you say, fiddling with the strap of your bag to distract yourself from the praise he keeps sending your way. “i’ll see you tomorrow? i switched shifts with aran, so i think you and i are opening together, yay.”
he laughs, dipping his clean rag into the clean sink filled with soapy water, ringing it out tightly before wiping it along the bartop. “i do enjoy opening with you,” he admits, “ya know what you’re doing and i don’t have to babysit you.”
“i’m telling aran,” you quip, smiling.
“i mean, i don’t have to babysit aran either,” osamu points out.
“then what’s the difference?” you tease, but it’s not really supposed to be a tease, not like this. the two of you often joked around with each other, but typically in larger groups where there were more people to witness it and the words held less weight than they do now. 
osamu ignores your question, shaking his head as he throws a different one to you instead, “hey, didya even eat?” what was maybe meant to be distracting turns into straight concern, his eyebrows furrowed as he pauses his cleaning motions.
you tilt your head back. “shit, no,” you groan, “ugh, i was so busy i didn’t even remember to eat dinner.” you pull out your phone, opening your maps to try and find somewhere decent that’s open this late, somewhere fast and easy to get to. you let out another groan. “i could probably make it to-”
“i can whip ya up somethin real fast,” osamu says, cutting you off.
“no, no, you have to get home,” you wave your hand at him, eyes still on your phone as you scroll past all of the quick places on your way home that say closed closed closed closed. you point at him, “i know what time you’re in tomorrow, it’s far too late to make food.”
“i was gonna make myself dinner, anyway,” he says, hands up in surrender. you squint your eyes at him, skeptical. “honest,” he says and your words and breath get caught in your throat. you’re not sure he clocks the parallels and the way that that word has stuck around in the back of your mind for four months, but that coupled with his enticing smile is coaxing you back to the barstool. you set your bag on one of the seats. 
“fine,” you say, finger tapping on the wooden bartop before grabbing your apron back from your bag and reclipping your hair. “but i’m helping you in the kitchen so it goes even faster.”
“alright, alright, deal,” osamu says. his laughter is already buried in your chest and now his smile is burned into the backs of your eyelids and soon enough his entire memory will be with you no matter where you go.
you follow his instructions in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables and stirring the food on the stove and grabbing ingredients from the pantry and every so often when you’re not deadset focused on something and when he’s just casually moving around food in a pan, you watch him watch you with a very familiar look in his pretty gray eyes.
he’s behind the bar, standing as he’s about to take a bite of the dinner the two of you have quickly made and you’re sitting on the barstool in front of him. “do you ever sit?” you ask, spoonful shoved in your mouth as you realize how hungry you actually are now that you have food in front of you. 
“usually, no,” he laughs, watching your lips close around the spoon and smiling only once your food-caused smile arises. 
“well, come sit,” you say, gesturing to the seat beside you, “makin’ me feel like a customer or something, gonna start talking to you about the weather and how business is going if you don’t hurry.”
he doesn’t say anything, only offers a teasing eye roll as he pushes the bowl in front of the seat next to you and makes his way beside you, leaning down to pluck two beers from the fridge before joining you on the other side of the counter. he sits down, a soft grunt falling from his lips as he realizes that, huh, he really hasn’t sat down all day and, huh, it does feel nice, but maybe that’s not entirely due to the fact that he’s sitting. in fact, most of it is probably due to who he’s sitting with. 
“see? isn’t that better?” you ask, reaching in front of him and taking one of the beers. you stand up in your seat, reaching over the counter and grabbing the bottle opener because you know exactly where it is without even having to look. he hums in agreement.
by the time your bowls are finished, so are a handful of beers, 2 for you, 3 for him, and long after your dinner is over, each of you are nursing one more. you have been for the better half of an hour. you haven’t mentioned the time and he hasn’t either and there isn’t any plan to.
“thanks for dinner,” you say, a bit quieter now because you’re facing him, knee up clashing against his as you swivel in your chair, but neither of you say anything about it and you don’t go to move it. you rest your head in your hand, chin on your palm as you smile up at him, warm from the alcohol and the fact that you’ve been dying to have a moment like this with osamu since the moment you were hired.
“wasn’t gonna let you go home hungry, doll,” he says, lets it slip in the lateness of the night and the laziness of the conversation and it takes him a few half-seconds to clock it. when he does, his mouth is open, back straighter, instantly about to apologize, but you reach out, desperate for him not to regret it, and you rest your hand on his upper thigh.
“i know,” you say, low and viscous, tip of your tongue swiping against your bottom lip, teeth biting down, slow blinks and fingers curling against his toned thigh, “you’re thoughtful like that, samu.”
you swear you can hear his heart skip a beat as he tries to take in everything that’s happening, tries to make a rational decision, but any rationality is quickly leaving his mind as you stand up, supporting yourself on his thigh, now standing between his chair and yours, little room to move, pressed up against the sides of his knees. 
your movements are slow, giving him plenty of time to object or stop you, but he doesn’t. his lips part as your palm rests against his jaw, thumb under his chin to tilt his head up towards you and if you could hear his heart skip a beat earlier, you know he can hear how furiously yours is beating right now. 
you lower your head, guide his lips to yours and kiss him again, finally. he tastes like beer and dinner, but somehow just like you remember him tasting that night. it takes him only a second to move, for his brain to catch up to the events that are happening, but when he does, it’s like something snaps. 
hand on your lower back, standing up to meet you, to pull you closer to him, other hand on the side of your neck, fingers spanning the skin, massaging your throat, curling around the back, fingers grabbing onto strands of your hair, his touch is desperate. 
his kiss is even worse, teeth dragging against your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, tongue mashing over yours, he can’t taste you enough. and you get it. you understand more than anyone because you’ve had to work with osamu for the last four months, see him every week, be reminded of his strong arms and tight chest and pretty eyes and soft voice and you need him very quickly, embarrassingly quickly. 
you want to take your time, more time than you were given in the club, more time than you could ask for. you want to kiss down his chest and feel his heavy cock on your tongue and have his head between your thighs, but your mind is filling in all of the blanks, telling you exactly how the rest of the night is going to go and it doesn’t matter how much you want hours and hours of teasing foreplay and drawn-out intimacy, you’ve been empty since he came all over your thighs.
you let him hold your face, move you to kiss him exactly how he wants to be kissed, and you snake your hands down to his belt and his zipper. you need him now. you murmur it into his mouth, down his throat, “need you now, osamu, please, been so long, please.”
he hears you, every whiney syllable, every desperate word, and he’s not going to deny you, no matter how badly he wants to taste you like he didn’t get to taste you before. “okay,” he breathes, “not here, though, puppy, okay?” 
he cycles through acceptable places for him to fuck you in his restaurant and the very open floor plan of the main dining area definitely isn’t it. absolutely not the kitchen either. his office is locked, would take an entire code, a 2 minute waiting period, and, at worst, a call to his security company. he looks down at you, eyes darting all around your whimpering face and you know what he’s going to say before he’s even said it. 
you laugh first, and then nod. “guess i was right,” you say, “that you’re gonna fuck me in the bathroom again.”
he doesn’t know whether to roll his eyes again or shake his head jokingly or laugh along with you, so he doesn’t do any. “thank god,” he groans, pulling you through the restaurant into the single-room women’s restroom. 
he shuts the door behind him and locks it as if anyone was even able to get inside of the restaurant right now. still, being trapped in these confines is reminiscent in the best way. it’s cleaner here, quieter. you’re able to focus on osamu instead of worrying about touching wet spots and if people can hear you.
you’re in front of the mirror staring back at yourself and osamu behind you. you go to turn around, to face him, but you watch his hands root onto your hips, fingers digging in to hold you still, and then you watch them slip under your shirt, the shape under the fabric moving from your tits to your stomach up to your neck and back down to the button of your jeans. 
all the while, he’s grinding into you, hard cock confined in his jeans thrusting into your ass and all you can do- all you want to do is watch it happen. he’s not paying any attention to the mirror, but he makes sure that you are, moving your chin to stare directly back at yourself every time you turn your head.
he kisses the side of your neck as he quickly undoes your jeans, zipper, hooks his fingers into the waistband of both and pulls them down to your ankles, nudging them apart while he’s down there to spread them as far as they can. you can’t see him fiddling with his own, but you can hear it and you can see his arms moving in the mirror, head down, and you can hear his jeans fall onto the floor as well.
“can- can i ask?” you preface your question with a question, timid and sweet, and he looks up into the mirror, meets your eyes and there’s no way that he can turn you down.
“anything,” he says, hand on the base of your neck, heel of his palm pushing as it slides down your spine. your chest falls towards the sink slowly, both of your hands gripping the sides of it as your face gets closer to the mirror and the faucet. 
“did-,” the question is circling in your head, but the embarrassment is rising to your cheeks, trapping it in your throat, you can’t get it out. you look at him through the mirror. 
“what is it, doll? anything,” he reminds you, three fingers gingerly touching your clit, following up between your lips, scooping some of the mess that he’s already of you onto his fingertips to circle around his leaking head. 
“did you- were you thinking about this? have- have you thought about this?” you ask, because you’re dying, burning, aching to know. 
“that’s hardly appropriate, bunny,” he says, shaking his head. 
you feel so warm, insanely warm, impossibly hot, but he leans down and kisses the back of your shoulder, replacing his lips with his grip as he pulls you backwards onto his cock, not using his hand to guide himself inside, but the tightness of your cunt sucking him in again. he grunts as he enters you, fingers like a vice on your shoulder so hard that if you weren’t so drunk off the feeling of being so full again, it might even have hurt. 
he lets out a soft laugh, a tiny chuckle, “every fucking night, angel.”
you don’t get to watch it disappear inside of you, but you get to watch osamu’s expression as he does, eyes screwed shut, chin tilted upwards as a moan rises from his chest and leaves his throat. the stretch is so much better than last time, no prep from his thick fingers, just his fat cock slipping inside of you, hips driving it deeper until they’re right against your ass. 
he pushes the back of your shirt up, places the heels of both of his palms in the small of your back, soft against your skin, and then he moves you back and forth on his cock. he moves his hips to match the pace, fucking into you repeatedly, eyes trained on your movements in the mirror, of your facial expressions melting as his cock drags against your fluttering walls. 
“o-,” you whimper, “s- samu, fuck.” your fingers grip into the sink harder, trying to brace yourself as best you can, pushing back onto his cock as he continues to fuck you because you can’t get enough. you need him deeper, harder, more. 
“should’ve told you my name that night,” he says, clicking his tongue. he reaches down, grabs you by the inside of your thigh to spread your legs even wider, and then rubs small circles into your swollen clit. your arms are shaking against the sink at the feeling. you’re unraveling very quickly, eyes closing, unable to focus on the sights in front of you and now it’s him that can’t take his eyes off your reflection. you look fucked out, gorgeous, adorable, eyes rolling back, trying so hard to stay strong as your first orgasm approaches.
“what?” you breathe at his last sentence, eyebrows furrowed, so much on your mind. he could mean a million things. you can barely focus on not crashing your face into the faucet let alone understanding whatever he’s saying.
“sounds so good coming out of your mouth,” he huffs, picking up the pace, balls brushing against the inside of your thighs as he fucks into you harder, “need to hear it forever, pretty girl.”
you don’t even say it to show off or to make him happy, barely register what he’s asking for, just need to repeat it over and over again because how else are you going to prove that the noises you’re making are just for him, are because of him. “s- samu, please, gon’ come, please make m’ come, samu,” you cry.
“can’t say no to you, dove,” he whispers into your skin, kissing the back of your shoulder softly as he rubs his messy fingers against your throbbing clit. 
a symphony of thank yous and osamus leave your tongue as you come around him, walls choking his fat cock, gushing all over him as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. when you’ve come down from your high, when the immense pleasure has faded, you feel weak, drunk, so fucked out that you can barely stand, arms wobbling against the edges of the sink. osamu notices it in an instant, leans back, takes care of you, pulls you up with him, walking backwards, holding you in place on his cock as he pushes his back up against the bathroom wall. you can still see yourself perfectly in the mirror when you recover enough to fully open your eyes. 
you can’t imagine that the way that he’s holding you now is a walk in the park, supporting all of your weight on his thighs and in his hands, but he’s acting like it’s nothing, or maybe it is nothing to him. regardless, you feel completely supported as he thrusts up into you and you fall back down onto his cock. you’re not moving a muscle, not expending a single bit of energy other than to keep yourself from falling from side to side and even that is helped by osamu’s hold on you. 
you’re moving like a doll on top of him, bouncing up and down. he can barely get a good look, view obstructed by you, but he can see the ripples in the fat of your ass as you slam down against his hips. he can hear the sharp inhale every time his head dives as deep as it can go. he can feel how tight you are around him, how your walls hug him perfectly. he can remember how much he’s missed this feeling, how he’s tried to replicate this snugness with his fist and failed miserably.
“fuck, angel, gonna come,” he exhales.
“gonna fuck m’ thighs again, samu?” you ask, sweet and thick like syrup and he grunts at the tone, hips skipping just from the sound of your voice.
“yea, puppy, been thinkin’ bout this since that night,” he says, kissing the side of your neck, pulling out of you quickly as he feels the tightness in his balls. he slips between your thighs, soft and plush and messy. he fucks up into them the same way he fucked into your cunt. you squeeze your thighs around his hard length as tight as you can and he almost falls to the ground, a growl leaving his throat as he fucks your thighs even faster. you reach down, wrapping your fist around his head, swiping your thumb over the slit, tightening your grip as he fucks into it.
his release is unannounced, ropes of come spilling over your fist and onto your thighs, running down the insides of them gathering around the base of his cock as he slips through the mess he’s made, come leaking from the tip, drooling down the sides, between your legs and onto him. 
he presses his back completely against the wall, slides onto the floor breathless, arm instantly wrapping around your stomach to hold you in place and you don’t mind one bit, leaning back into him, feeling his heartbeat against your back and his cheek nuzzling into your neck, small kisses being placed at the base. 
you could’ve fallen asleep here, right here, in osamu’s arms.
you really could’ve fallen asleep here.
right here.
in osamu’s arms.
in the bathroom of onigiri miya.
where you work.
where someone could’ve found you in the morning. 
a customer or a coworker or someone much worse. 
fuck.
you’re too far down on the floor to see your reflection in the mirror still and you’re so grateful for it. you don’t want him to see the pained expression on your face and you don’t want to know what his looks like either. “we-,” you hesitate because you really don’t want to say what you’re about to say, “we probably shouldn’t- do this anymore-,” you whisper.
his response is instant, remorseful, embarrassed, “fuck, shit- yea, no, i’m so sorry-”
“no,” you cut him off, shaking your head, “i don’t- i don’t regret it,” you say, strong, “don’t regret the first time, definitely don’t regret this one, fuck actually, i really needed that, but i think maybe that should just be our last time.” if he can hear your voice break and crack a bit at the end, he doesn’t mention it as you push on, “‘ts a fine line we’re walking, fucking in the bathroom at work.”
“neither of us on the clock,” he notes and you suppose that does make it somewhat better, though, you’re not sure he’s ever really on the clock, “but you’re completely right.” he lets go of your waist. you’re slow to move to your feet, terrified that this whole act of cleaning up and going home will be weird and awkward, but the second that you’re off of him, he rushes to his feet, pulls you up gently, one hand on your waist to steady to you as you stand up straight. 
he hands you tissues and fixes himself up, brushes your hair out of your eyes and looks at your lips as he does and the atmosphere of the bathroom isn’t awkward or weird, it’s impossibly hard. you don’t want to leave, suddenly feeling very guilty about telling him that you should probably stop these impromptu sessions because you’re not sure how you’re going to keep up with your side of the bargain at the very least.  
“should we-,” you motion to the floor, to the wet marks and the fingerprints on the sink. he shakes his head.
“i’ll get it in the mornin’, okay? you head home,” he gestures to the front door. 
“are you sure?” you ask, smoothing out your shirt, swallowing gently as you look into his soft gray eyes. 
he nods, quick and assured. “i’ll see ya in the morning.” he hesitates before adding, “unless you want me to call aran and see if he won’t switch back with ya-”
you shake your head, “no way. you prefer opening with me anyway,” you tease, “i’ll see you in the morning, samu.” you offer a small wave as you leave the bathroom. 
he doesn’t move until he hears the front door open and then close again and then he lets out a huge sigh, puts his face in his hands and lets out another along with a small, but audible, “fuck. fuck, how does she this to me?”
he doesn’t hear the door open and close the second time, the time that you actually leave after hearing his exacerbated private sentence with your forgotten bag in tow and a sinking feeling in your stomach.
the guilt is biting at your heels as you walk down the street to your bus stop, screaming at you to turn around and run back and kiss him very hard and very confidently, god knows you could’ve, but you don’t. 
each step is heavy, dragging, and your bus shows up at the exact second that you make it to the stop, no time to overthink decisions or even look back in the direction whence you came. 
and yet, despite everything, no regret is harbored in your heart or your veins, just an underlying fear that you won’t be able to follow your own rules very well or very long.
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its-time-to-write · 6 months
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i hold it like a grudge - ch. 5
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I don’t know why this fic wrecked me so much. I’m literally the author. I know what’s gonna happen. I decided what’s gonna happen. Maybe I’m just tired. also does anyone remember that time I said I hated writing chaptered fics and swearing that each one was an anomaly/the last time I’d ever do it?
table of contents you’re still everything to me
Jamie Tartt is in your kitchen, puttering around so he can make a pot of tea and with an eyebrow slit like it’s 2013 again.
He sent you to go change so you slip on sweatpants and curl up on the sofa.
“Here you are, love,” he says, setting the tea down on the coffee table. He sits on the opposite end of the sofa, a respectable distance away.
“Why didn’t I see you?” you ask, staring out the window. The room is illuminated by the streetlight glow from the kitchen.
“How d’you mean?” responds.
“I visited mum last year. I was there all day. Why didn’t I see you?”
Jamie pauses. “I went early.”
“No, no you didn’t. There weren’t any flowers when I got there, and you said you brought her flowers.”
He’s quiet long enough for you to turn and check if he’s even still in the room.
He is.
“I… saw you,” he says eventually. “Didn’t think we’d be there at the same time, but-” he raises an eyebrow as punctuation. “Anyway, I was behind a tree. Saw you sit down and at first I thought I’d just wait in the car, but you started crying and- and I didn’t know if I should say somethin’ or leave. Did neither, so I just stayed. Placed the flowers and paid my respects once you left.”
You sip your tea in silence.
After a long time you say, “I’m glad you didn’t say anything.”
“She always believed in me,” he says by way of reply. “Even when I was being a little shit, she still made me feel like she wanted me around. Three people I want to make proud the most were her, mummy, and you.”
“Wanted,” you correct. “Wanted to make proud. Mum’s gone, and we’re not even friends.”
“D’you think we ever could be?”
You consider. There’s a part of you that feels like you’re friends already. He’s in your flat for fuck’s sake. 
“I don’t know,” you say. “Honestly I don’t. I’ve only ever loved you, Jamie, and for a long time I couldn’t see the future without you. I still can’t see it, I’m just living day-by-day sometimes.”
He chews his lip. “How can I make it up to you?”
He’s asking all the hard questions tonight.
“I don’t hate you anymore,” you say frankly. “You were there for me when I needed you, and you leaving me was the worst. But it turned out good. And, I dunno, over the last few days I just keep wondering what’s gonna stop you from leaving again? Deciding you want someone else more, or my value means less?”
“Maturity.” He says it slightly drawn out, enunciating the consonants. He has a hint of a smile, which is stupid, because now you have one too.
“Seriously, though, I’m not like that anymore. Went of, was a prick, and it were shit. I’ve never heard mum that mad at me, Jesus Christ. Swore my ear off, she did. Didn’t have real friends, wasn’t happy, drank a lot of vanilla vodka. Keeley broke up with me for cheating on her, too, but not with sex, like; just on a date. Said shit about accountability.” 
He says it the same way he said maturity. 
“Hm,” you say. What else is there to say, really?
“Hm,” you say again as you reach to set your tea down and move to the other end of the couch so you’re pressed up against Jamie’s side.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.
“Stay the night?” you whisper. “I don’t want to be alone and I have a guest bed.” 
Jamie nods.
It’s 3am, and you wake up with the sound of your mum saying your name still echoing in your room. You’d been dreaming, showing her the life you’d created and she’d smiled the whole time. She wasn’t wispy, she was the same mum who kicked a football with Jamie, sang horribly off-key with Simon, and convinced Georgie to even give him a chance in the first place. 
Tears pool in the corner of your eye.
I am not drowning. I can do this.
There’s a light tap on the door. “Come in,” you croak.
Jamie pushes it open and sticks his head in. “You’re crying,” he states. “Woke up a minute ago feeling shitty.”
You pat the bed and roll over.
Jamie climbs in under the covers and reaches tentatively for your hand. You let him take it.
“Just because I’m emotionally fragile does not mean that I forgive you,” you tell him tearfully. “I’m just pretending you never left and everything’s fine so I’m not going to hate myself for letting you into my room and letting you see me cry.”
“Alright,” he whispers. “C’mere. We’ll forget about it in the morning.”
You both move closer under the covers. You blame sleep and grief for the kiss you press to his clavicle, and you’re sure you’re dreaming they way he murmured, “How the fuck did I ever leave you?”
Jamie is true to his word. He doesn’t say a word when you wake up, just extricates himself from your hold and goes downstairs.
“I’ll be here for today,” he tells you once you drag yourself out of bed. “After that, you can decide how you feel about me. You don’t have to think about it today.”
It’s a four-hour drive to Manchester, and you’re not sure when it was decided that a) Jamie was coming with you, or b) that he’d be the one driving. He stops to pick up breakfast and coffee and doesn’t say a word about eating in his fancy car. You stare out the window and let the music playing over the speakers flow over you. It’s still raining, less than last night but still heavily. 
You grip Jamie’s hand with white knuckles and cry, truly cry in a way you only allow once a year but this time, there’s a new component.
I could’ve had this, you think. You and Jamie, together.
Something new tugs at your chest and you turn to look at Jamie. Tears have gathered in the corners of his eyes, and he’s sniffling a but, trying not to let it show. 
You readjust in your seat so you’re leaning against his arm, and he tilts his head to rest on yours for a fraction of a moment. 
Your mum’s place is the same as it always is. Her name, printed in rounded letters. The dates, signifying that she did not spend enough time here. You place down your blanket and sit, back against the headstone as usual with your head tilted up to the sky. Jamie stands a good distance away, just watching with his hands shoved in his pockets. 
“Hi mum,” you begin, voice cracking. “Um, I’m sorry I don’t get up here much. But that’s what kids do, right? Leave the nest and only visit on holidays. 
Things are going well still. I’ve gotten offers for collabs with some brands, so I guess that’s cool. Jamie’s here, he’s by the tree though. I don’t- I don’t know what to do about it, mum. I wish you were here. You always saw things clearer than any of us, and I just don’t know. Turns out I didn’t ever stop loving him. Keeley thinks we have this weird cosmic connection or something. Do you believe in that? I think you might have. 
I- I think we’re going to see Georgie and Simon after this. I don’t really know. I haven’t been thinking straight today, you know. I just miss you.  I want to hug you again and I promise I’m okay on my own, it’s just hard sometimes. I thought- I thought-”
You’re unable to get the rest of the words out. It’s fucking sunny out and it feels wrong, like the world should remember this is a day to mourn a soul who should’ve been around longer. The sky should at least have the decency to cry along with you. 
A hand touches your face to wipe away a tear. You wrap your arms around Jamie’s neck and he just holds you for a minute, an hour, a year. Time might be passing but you’re unaware of it. He’s whispering in your ear, saying, “I’ve got you, it’s alright love, take as much time as you need,” but it’s only sounds to you. Sweet sounds, but not comprehensible words. 
It’s safe, here. It shouldn’t be, here on your mother’s grave with your cheating ex-boyfriend in your arms, but it doesn’t feel like that. 
It feels more like you’ve finally arrived home after years of travel. 
Jamie feels the same as he did before he made it to the Premier League, back when he’d nick flowers from a garden and climb through your window late at night, not like the prideful boy who broke your heart in five minutes over the phone. 
“I’m here as long as you need,” he murmurs, and you believe him. 
You pull away slightly to look him in the face. “I love you,” you say. 
He smiles, but only with his eyes as he swipes a thumb under your eye. “I love you too,” he says. “Don’t think I ever really stopped.”
It’s at that exact moment that the sun disappears behind a cloud and it begins to rain. 
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motherhaella · 1 year
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What A Sight
Recom! Miles Quaritch x Recom! Female reader
Summary: The scientists said that Na'vi people get 'heat cycles' when they're in mating season. Now that Y/N is an Avatar, she becomes more sensitive than before. When she was pleasuring herself, Miles heard her and decided to check up on her.
TW: grammar error, minors DNI, 18+, dom! Quaritch, swearing, smut, fingering, masturbating, thigh riding, p in v, rough s3x, daddy kink, breeding kink, choking, milking.
Disc: this is my first time writing smut, I hope you like it
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Y/N's POV
I can feel the rush of adrenaline inside of me. My heart is beating so fast, I'm very tense right now and I need to get out of this room. The team and I, along with the Colonel are currently having a meeting with the general. We are discussing a plan on how to find Jake Sully and his family. But right now, all I can think of is that I need to go to my quarters so I can be done with all of this shit. I can't help but squeeze my thighs together, waiting for the meeting to be over.
Author's POV
Miles was standing behind you, leaning against the wall while listening to what the general was saying. He couldn't help but noticed your discomfort, he approached you from behind and he lowered his head down right next to your ear, "The hell is goin' on with ya ?" He whispered.
You can't help but got more aroused because of his damn raspy voice, and his hot breath hitting your cheek. "It's nothing sir, I'm fine." you replied with an annoyed tone.
He let out a "tskk," laid his hand on your lower back- a little too low, "You better stop jumpin' on your seat like an anxious, needy animal, lieutenant." his face is so close to the side of your face, if you turned your head your nose would definitely touch his.
You didn't answer him this time, and decided to sit still. He moved to take a seat beside you and he put his hand on your thigh, "Yeah there's somethin' going on with you, doll... but you're not so good at sharing things, ain't ya ?" He chuckled lightly. You swat his hand away, lightly hissed at him. His veined hand on your thigh only worsened the situation you're in. Quaritch is not always this touchy with other people. But with you, oh does he love to tease & taunt you. Sometimes he'd snake his hand around your waist or when you're trying to shoot at something he will stood very close behind you, or even press himself against your back. "Eyes on the price, cupcake." He'd whisper to your ear with his raspy voice. But it's just a friendly remark, right?
You felt the pool between your legs, your arousal getting stronger every second and now you can only hope that he can't smell you.
Oh he knows what he's doing earlier. He wouldn't admit it to himself but he got a thing for you. You're one of the best soldier, very skilled at combat. Also, the way your hips and tail swayed when you walk, you wouldn't notice this but he always stares at you. You always wear a tight tank top and shorts because it is hot here in Pandora, and he loves your curves. He knew that it was wrong to think of you as more than co-workers. But he can't help it.
"All right, that's it for today. Colonel, I hope your team will be ready for the journey." Said the General. The meeting has ended. Quaritch nodded at her, you quickly stood after the General exited the room, and you headed towards your room.
----
Miles was watching from behind, He knew what was happening. you fidgeting on your seat, sweating, your skin hot when he laid his hand on your thigh. It's mating season and not just her, but he, too, is in a super sensitive state. He can smell your sweet scent just from standing behind you. Watching you squirm when he gripped your thigh turned him on, he imagined the things he wanted to do to you. He's better than you at hiding his state, of course. 'Oh, just from the smell I can tell that it tastes & feels good,' He smirked at the thought.
After everyone went back to their rooms, he stayed outside a little longer, thinking about you. Specifically at what are you doing at the moment. It's getting late and he decided to get some sleep, when he walked passed your room all of the sudden he heard a strange noise coming from inside.
Miles' POV
"nngghh~ ahh... fuck..."
I heard it. And I know what she's doing. Shit, hearing her moan like that made me hard. I can't help but imagine how she moans my name. 'It's inappropriate, she's your co-worker.' My mind said. But it didn't stopped me from pressing my ear to her door. She was a moaning mess, and I can tell that she's about to cum. I really want to go inside and help her. Fuck, she's so hot I need to be inside her so badly. When I was pressing my ear against her door, it opened a little. 'Fuck, she didn't lock it,'. And right there on her bed, I can see her. Pants off, Legs spread. She's fingering herself with two fingers, while rubbing her clit with her other hand. She bucked her hips to the air while closing her eyes. 'What a sight.' I thought. I can feel my cock getting really hard. I was about to leave then I heard her unexpectedly moans, "Oh, daddy... oh, Miles~~ fuuckk, need ya so bad..."
Author's POV
He heard you. You whining his name while you cum. That's his last straw. He can't hold it anymore, he needed to fuck you. That is the most important thing on his mind right now. He's drenched in sweats, his muscles tense. He closed the door quietly, and waited a minute to knock harshly to it. After you put a pants on you opened the door, still breathing heavily. You're shocked when you saw him standing right in front of you, scared that he might heard you from earlier.
Y/N's POV
"Colonel Quaritch. wha- can I help you ?" I said with a stern tone, hiding my grogginess, my eyes not meeting his. I'm scared, feared that he heard me earlier. And fuck, I forgot to lock my door. It will be very awkward for us both if he saw or heard all that.
He didn't say anything but kept his eyes on me. He took a few steps towards me, made me back away and he shut the door, locking it. Then, it happened in a blink of an eye. He slammed my back against the wall, his hands gripping both my wrists above my head. His sudden movement caught me off guard, what the hell is he doing?
"Fucking let go of me!" I snapped at him, but he didn't budge. "What the hell is wro-" I was trying to talk him out of whatever he wanted to do to me but he cutt me off, "Shut your fucking mouth. I heard ya alright, and next time you should make sure that the door is locked and completely shut so no one can see you, Lieutenant." He spat at me.
I cursed myself, embarrassed that he heard AND saw me. I am too weak and overwhelmed to fight him back. His grip is very strong. The room became so hot, I can feel the tension in the air. Both of us like to playfully flirt and touch with one another, but right now it felt different. His scent is strong, his eyes wild and full of hunger. I have never seen him like this before, like an animal. "I didn't know that you're so desperate for me.. so.. needy. what, you want me to touch you? hmm.." His face is only a few inches away from mine now. I whined, I can feel myself getting wet again because of him. Of his presence in front of me. I shut my legs together but he forced it open with his knee. "Oh, don't act all shy now Sweetheart... not while a moment ago you were moaning my name while you touched yourself," he said with a seductive tone, with a menacing smile on his face.
Author's POV
At this point you're sitting on his thigh, your sensitive core rubs against his thigh. He can feel how wet you are, and that made him harder than before. You can feel how he flexed his thigh beneath you. "Ride, sweetheart. I wanna see you cum just from riding my thigh." You obeyed him, You start to move your hips, grinding on his thigh, your clit brushed the fabric of his pants. You started to move faster, chasing your release. At a time like this, you don't have any self-respect for yourself.
Watching you ride his thigh made his cock twitched, His desire to fuck you is stronger than ever. He never thought that this could happen. And boy, he's very happy that he gets to do this in his new life.
He leaned his face to your ear, he darkly chuckled, "that's it.. just like that... Scream my name when you cum, baby." He then started to suck your neck, that made you moan loudly, and trails kisses down to your collarbone. He doesn't like the fact that you're still wearing your top. He ripped the top that you were wearing and tossed it to the side.
He groaned at the sight, your chest going up and down, your nipples hard. He leaned down and sucked your left nipple sloppily while one of his hand left your wrist and started to toy with your right boob, massaging it.
"So pretty.. so delicious, all just for me.." he hummed. "Nggh... I'm so close.. Oh god.." you move your hips faster, desperate to cum. You can feel the wetness trailing down your thighs. "Miles.. I- I'm gonna- oh Miles! Ahh~~" you cum undone beneath him, you feel your legs trembling and your knees weak. You moaned so loud that he had to silence you by pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was rough and sloppy, but it felt really good.
You're still overwhelmed and breath not steady, but he couldn't wait any longer. He let go of your wrist then picked you up and laid your back to the bed. He removed his top then hurriedly unbuckled his belt, taking off his pants. He's completely naked now. You can see all of his muscles flexing. You can't help but to stare at his toned abs, his v-line, his slim waist... 'how can someone have such slutty looking waist?' You thought to yourself.
And his cock. It is so big you doubt that it would fit. His dick is long and hard, you can see the pre-cum on the pink tip. He noticed that you're looking and the worried look on your face, "don't worry sweetheart.. I'm sure you can take it," He climbed to the bed and hovering on top of you, "and if you can't, you still have to."
He teased your entrance with his finger, playing with your fold, feeling the wetness that he caused. You can't help but wrapped your tail around his arm, to feel him close. He can feel how you squirmed at his touch, "Enough with the teasing, daddy please..." you whined, arching your back lightly. He likes the fact that he's the one in control, likes to see you begged for him.
He slips his two long fingers into your wet cunt, making you gasp at the feeling. "Shh.. you gotta keep it quiet, honey. We don't want anyone to be suspicious, right?" He then thrusts into you in a fast pace, stretching your pussy. Since you have to be quiet, you can only gripped his bicep tightly and shut your eyes. Then you feel it again, the tightness in your stomach. Quaritch knows just by the way your walls clenched on his fingers, he stopped fingering you when you were about to cum. You whined and opened your eyes, looking at him with pleading eyes while he only smirked.
Frustrated, you tried to touch yourself but he tugged your tail and his other hand wrapped around your neck. "Daddy didn't say that you could touch yourself, baby. You can cum when I allow you to. If you wanna cum you'll have to be a good girl for daddy, yeah?"
You pouted and nodd, looking at him with glossy eyes. His patience is wearing thin, he moved his hand from your tail to rubb your ass and slapped it. "Use. Your. Words." He said each word by landing a smack on your ass. "Yes! Nghh... pleasee~~" you whimpered, unable to contain yourself. "You should address me properly and be specific, Princess." He landed another slap on your now red ass.
"Pleasee sir.. I need you to fuck me and make me cum... I want you to cum inside me, Miles!" You sobbed, and by the expression of his face, he seemed to be satisfied. He lined his thick, throbbing cock to your pussy, slowly entering. Both of you moaned at the feeling, you felt his tail wrapping around your thigh.
He's only halfway in your thight cunt when you whined again, "I- it's so big, daddy~~" you were trying to push him away when he gripped your waist and shoved all of him into you. You moaned, feeling the pain and the pleasure at the same time.
"Shit.. you're so tight, baby girl" he closed his eyes, feeling you in. He didn't let you adjust, he started fucking you in a fast pace, his hand still choking you and the other holding your leg to the side of his waist. It's mating season and his heat overcame his patience, he just wants to fuck you without mercy and breed you.
His breathing becomes heavy, ears going down and eyes rolling because of the pleasure, "Ohh fuuckk... you're mine now, baby. Shit- I'm lying to myself if I said that I haven't thought about fucking you, nghh~~ gonna breed ya good, babygirl.." he fucks you harder, his hand leaving your neck and pulled your waist to him so he can go deeper. The pleasure is too much for you, he's too deep inside of you, you're overwhelmed and you can feel your cunt clenched around him, about to cum.
He pounded into you mercilessly, hovering on top of you while your hands roamed on his back leaving scratches. "That's it, baby... good girl... takin' me so well..." he mumbled praises to your ear, you can only answer with loud moans and whines, the pleasure is too much. His hand found your throbbing clit, circling it in a slow pace. Your moans become louder than ever, he kissed you to suppress your moans while still drilling into your tight cunt. He then started to give little bites on your neck and whisper dirty things to your ear.
"Daddy please," you pleaded, you can't hold it much longer, not when he fucks you roughly like this. "Aww, you wanna cum, baby? You wanna milk me?" He mocked you, his thrusts getting faster and rougher. "F-ffuckk, Miles... ahh~~ I.. wanna.. yeah~" you stumbled with your words. His finger rubs your clit and he breathed, "Do it, baby.. I want you to scream my name while you cum on my cock," he said.
"M-miles~~ ahh fuck.. you fuck me soo good.." You let out a high pitched moan while you cum beneath him. He didn't slow his pace and this overstimulated you. "Fuck, baby... almost there.. fuck, I can't get enough of ya," he let out a few grunts and moaned when he cum his load inside you, filling your pussy with his seed.
Now that you can think much clearer, you realised that just had sex with the Colonel, your leader. You couldn't meet his eyes, you looked anywhere but him. "Hey, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He asked, concern written all over his face. You finally looked at Miles, "No, of course not. It's just... I wonder if- if this is just a one time thing" You softly said to him. He laughed at this, moving to the side and pulled you to his chest, holding you in. "What, you think I'm gonna let ya go ? Y/N, I missed my opportunity in my past life to be with you, I ain't missing it this time." You smiled and gave him a passionate kiss, that night both of you fell asleep in each other's arms.
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Hiya Sugar,
You’re the newest goodey-goodey in town, aren’t ya? What am I sayin’, of course ya are! I already knew that! In fact I know a lot about’cha, you’d be real surprised.
At first, I didn’t think too much about there being another vigilante running amuck. To me it was the usual same ol’, same ol’ in Gotham. It wasn’t until we had our very first run in that had me wanting to take a real good look into ya. I had been with my former crappy Puddin’ at the time and we were planning to cause some havoc for B-man, but you showed up first. That didn’t stop us from causin’ you some trouble too but you were really somethin’. A good kinda somethin’! You surpassed both mine and my ex-Puddin’s expectations by a long shot, putting us in our place real quick before B-man even made an appearance. But when he did finally roll around, my shitty ex had the audacity to use me as a distraction so he could getaway, puttin’ me in peril.
I’ll be honest I was worried there for a bit. Sure I was all laughs about it until it set in that my Puddin wasn’t gonna save me then the panic came. I mean hanging off a 70 story building by the tippy tips of ya fingers will do that to ya, ya’know? (To be honest, I don’t even know if it really was 70 stories but it sure as hell felt like it.) But then the most marvelous thing happened! My grip gave way and I was startin’ to fall only for an arm to shoot out and catch me!
Now, I was fully expecting B-man or one of his little birdies being the one who got to me but imagine my surprise when I was met with a new face. A really nice lookin’ face too! (At least from what I could tell.) Your grip on me was real strong and firm but it felt gentle all the same. Ya pulled me up and looked me all over for any serious damage, askin’ if I was alright. You didn’t manhandle or be too rough with me whatsoever. In fact you were real gingerly in checking me over. You also weren’t yellin’ or shoutin’ at me either, instead you were speaking slow and soft to me. I remember your voice bein’ real nice to listen to too. In that moment I realized you truly were somethin’ different, a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the heroes coming out of the woodworks in Gotham.
You were just so nice to me, even though we tried to kill ya and cause some psychological damage along the way (sort bout that by the way😅), but you were still worried about little ol’ me. I don’t even think B-man has ever been really genuinely concerned about my well-being before, at least not like you were, when my Puddin’s used me like a meat shield. If it weren’t for his no killing hangup he probably would have let me die plenty of times before. But you actually cared! I don’t know what exactly it was but somethin’ about ya that night made me feel all tingly and warm inside and I liked it. Then the next thing I knew you were gone chasing after B-man and my ex-Puddin’ leavin’ me feelin’ cold and alone. Ever since then I’ve been keepin’ a close eye on ya. Hell, I even dumped my Puddin’ right after that incident. Ya should have seen his face, thinkin’ I wasn’t serious only for him to come mopin’ around wantin’ me back. But I stood my ground. Besides, I already had my eye on somethin’ better. Or rather someone better.
Like I said before, I’ve been keepin’ my eye on ya since then and I’m so glad I did. Sure some people would call it “stalking” but I prefer to call it “closely admiring from a reasonable and legal distance”. Except those few times I did let myself into your place and took a peek around. I didn’t take anything though, at least nothing you’d notice but that’s not what’s important. What is important though is how much you’ve opened my eyes to new horizons beyond just stupid ol’ Joker and everything that has to do with him. I still do the odd crime here and there but they’re no way near the same extremes like they used to be. I only really do somethin’ bad when I know you’re on patrol and will for sure be the one to stop my shenanigans. Honestly, I just want the chance to see and talk to ya again. Don’t even get me started about all the times when I have caused mischief only for B-man or one of his birdies to be the one to show up instead of you. I’ve never felt so disappointed and upset before. All that time and effort only for some other big baddie or even a small petty criminal to take up your attention away from me. It really gets under my skin. Would I say I’m jealous though? Not really. Okay maybe a little but can ya blame me? After all this time I finally have somethin’ good in my life that’s gettin’ me to change perspective only to have to share it with others who have no intention on changin’ for anybody! They’re a waste of your time but I get that you gotta stick to your goodey-goodey schtick, that’s who ya are after all. But still it gets me feelin’ some type of way, and not in a good way either.
I can’t help that you’ve become something so prominent to me in such a short amount of time, although I know ya don’t know just how much ya truly mean to me. I’ve even started focusing on doing more good than bad, little by little ya’ know? Baby steps. You’re a good part of why I started leaning more towards being good but it was also due to another incident I got in. I won’t go into it but let’s just say it involved a lower criminal who just wouldn’t stop runnin’ his mouth about ya and I wasn’t havin’ any of it. I admit I may have gone a little overboard with getting my a point across but he deserved it. He had no right talkin’ about ya like that! Sure, he’ll probably never wake up from his coma and is in a permanent vegetative state but you can’t say he isn’t technically still alive. So at least I didn’t kill him kill him, right? Hey, what can I say this goodey stuff is still pretty new to me. At least I’m tryin’ my best. There was also some other stuff involved besides him bad mouthin’ ya but I can’t for the life of me remember what it was but I’m sure it also was well deserving of an ass kickin’.
Oh goodness gracious, look at me ramblin’ away as usual! Ya got that kind of affect on me, ya’know? But anyhoo, I should really end this letter before I start spillin’ all my beans. I need to keep some secrets to myself after all. But maybe I’ll get around to tellin’ ya those ones too when we’re much more acquainted. But don’t worry ya little ol’ head though, sugar, everythin’ will come to fruition in due time and the two of us will be together! I just gotta get a few of my duckies in a row before we take the plunge but it’ll all be worth it in the end and you’ll finally be all mine!
See ya soon, sugar! Don’t miss me too much though~ Before ya know it we’ll be makin’ up for all our lost time and really gettin’ to know each other! But until then I’ll leave ya with this and a few gifts I left behind for ya too!
Lots of lovin’,
Harley<3<3<3
P.s
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storydays · 2 months
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Dad Beat Dad P2
(3rd POV)
*With the tour*
"So, once we have proof that redemption is possible, this whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into Heaven. We just need a little more time to prove it." Charlie rambled to her father, "The sharing circles haven't been working as fast as I hoped..." 
" 'Ey, Boss? Can I have a word?" Husk whispered to Alastor. The Radio Demon watched as the tour continued, before turning to the cat demon with a raised eyebrow. "What is it?" He asked, turning the radio effect off on his voice. 
"You and I both know Mimzy only shows up when she needs somethin'." Husk's wings ruffled slightly showing his irritation. "That bitch is trouble, and who knows what kinda demon she fucked with to come running to you this time?"
"It's nothing I can't handle. Don't worry, Husker. Who in their right mind would cross me?" Alastor said smugly. "I mean...you've been gone a while and it's not like anybody knows why." Husk raised an eyebrow.  "They don't need to know. And don't worry your fuzzy little head about it." mocked Alastor as he rubbed one of Husk's ears. 
The cat demon shoved his hand away, and growled, "You may own my soul, but I ain't your fucking pet!"  "Hmhm! But you are! Haha!" Alastor giggled, walking away. 
"Big talk for someone who's also on a leash/" muttered the bartender.  Static filled the hallway as the lights flickered, Alastor stopping in his walk before side eyeing Husk. "Aha, what did you say?" he demanded, eyes now radio dials. 
"Oh, fuck!" groaned Husk as a green chain formed around his neck before pulling him to the ground. "Nothing, I um--" Alastor pulled on the chain, making the cat choke. "If you ever say that again," the deer started, playing with the chain in his hands, "I will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams," He briefly grew to a bigger size, towering over Husk, "For every other disrespectful wretch who dares to question me."
"Understood." Husk muttered, trembling in fear. "Lovely. Good talk, my good man. Always nice to catch up." Alastor chuckled, jaunty music playing. 
*Back with the tour again*
"And we've almost been able to find all of Angel's drug stashes." Vaggie looked to the side as she added, "Almost." The three had now made their way to one of the balconies, to talk more privately. Vaggie leaned against the railing as Charlie took over. 
"Soo, once that's out of the way, it should be much smoother sailing." Charlie chimed in. "Well, that certainly is, uh...is-is something." Lucifer commented. 
"So..What do you think?" the princess asked hopefully. "About what?" The king asked lazily.
"The hotel." Charlie replied, slightly desperate. 
"Oh yes, it does....it does look much better now, doesn't it?" Lucifer sweatdropped nervously, looking for an excuse, before messing with the railing in front of him. "Ya know, but I'm thinking this railing needs work, one good push and you'd just go right over the edge. Whoopie, bye-bye." 
Charlie blinked at her father's weirdness. "What? No, no, the plan, Dad!" 
The princess was so frustrated, she didn't seen the forlorn look on her father's face. "What do you think about using the hotel to help sinners?" she asked. 
"Ahh..." he sighed before turning to look Charlie in the face. "Alright, I mean, look, I love that you want to see the best in people, but these sinners..." He made a face, "You know, they're just the worst. I-I don't know how much you can realistically expect from them in Heaven. Hohoo boy, Heaven is not exactly carefree as you might think." The king draped himself over the railing at the thought of his old home, before standing straight. 
"Yeah, they have rules. Lots of rules. And they aren't very open minded as you'd hope." 
Vaggie looked away, as Charlie tried again, "These are our people, Dad. I...I have to try." 
" 'Our people, Charlie, are awful! They got gifted free will and look what they did with it! Everything's terrible." exclaimed Lucifer, gesturing towards the city. "I just don't want you to put yourself on the line for people like---"
A loud thud shook the hotel, making the three grip onto the railings.  "Geez! What now?" Vaggie groaned. "Well, like that." Lucifer gestured to the shark demon gang outside the hotel, holding a battering ram.
"Mimzy! We know you're in there you lousy bitch." 
*In the main foyer*
"Oh shit." whimpered Mimzy, ignoring the looks (Y/N) and Angel sent her. Lucifer opened a portal, allowing him and the women to run down quickly. 
"Que carajo?!" cursed Vaggie, the royals running out of the portal after her. "What's going on?" Charlie questioned.
"I maaaaaaay be in trouble with some loan shark's, I may or may not have borrowed fifty grand from--eep!" The flapped squeaked and hid behind the bar, before peeking out and flinching at the looks she was getting. "You better come out!" called one of the sharks. 
"And I may have also stolen a car..and crashed it...into the loan shark's girlfriend. But that bitch had it coming!" She growled, just as fireballs were thrown into the hotel breaking the windows, much to Niffty's horror. 
"My windows!" she shrieked.  "Ah! We're under seige! Ah! Take cover!" cried Pentious. "Look out!" Vaggie cried, dodging another. "What the fuck?!" Angel yelled, picking Niffty up from being hit. 
(Y/N) growled and used his wings fly up to the windows before using his magic to close the them before grunting when a spear was thrown at him, slicing his cheek. "Fuck!" He hissed before flying outside, hands glowing with magic. "That was a lucky shot, bitch! Now I'm going to fuck you up!" He laughed manically.
Charlie looked at her father as he smirked, "Ya see, this is exaaaactly what I'm talking about Charlie. You build something nice, you invite people in and offer them everything, and they just bring violence and chaos to your doorstep. It doesn't matter how well intentioned  you are, they're always going to disappoint you." 
Niffty giggled as she scooped up glass before being picked up by Pentious, "Niffty, come along!" "All of you, get a safe distance!" Vaggie called, angelic spear in her hand.  "I'll take care of this." she raised her spear, ready to join the manically laughing prince. 
"No, my dear, leave it to me. It's time I remind everyone why I am here." Alastor grinned, radio dials for eyes and a dangerous tone in his voice. 
"Oh, finally! Took ya long enought!" Mimzy snapped from behind the bar. "A reminder to all," Alastor called, the hotel glowing green, as tentacles came out from his back. "Not to mess with the Radio Demon!" his evil laugh echoed in the air as he climbed out of the hotel in his demon form.
His tentacles started to kill the shark demons, making (Y/N) grin. "Yes! Let's fuck shit up, Alastor!" He cackled, drawing his angelic sword before flying down to continue his attack. "I will devour each and every one of you!" Alastor exclaimed, gladly catching and eating a demon that the prince had thrown his way. 
*Back with Charlie*
"Mhm, ya see?" Lucifer hummed, wincing at his son's sadistic side. "What I tell ya? Charlie, sinners are violent psychopaths, hell bent on causing as much pain and destruction as they can. There's really no point in trying." he chuckled before the princess snapped. 
"Dad, stop! They're defending this hotel! It may be a little more.....sadistic than I'd hope." Charlie cringed at the two demon's actions. "But they're doing it for me! How come they can have faith in me, but my own father can't?" She sobbed, making Lucifer look down. 
"Ooh, drama." Angel grinned, taking some popcorn from behind the table, Husk taking some as well.
*Outside*
"Oh, I missed getting to let off steam." Alastor shrunk to his normal size, smiling as (Y/N) landed next to him, putting his sword away, and snapped his fingers and he was all cleaned up,and the cut on his cheek as now healed. "Huh, we'll have to team up more often, Alastor." "Indeed, prince (Y/N)."
(Y/N)'s smile dropped as Mimzy came out. "Oh Alastor! Princey! What a fantastic show! Bravo!" Mimzy clapped her hands, posing. "Thanks for helpin' lil' old me outta a tough spit, you're always such a pal." She flinched as rumble fell nearby. 
"Oops." She shrugged, as (Y/N) crossed his arms, glare on his face. "Heheheh, sorry about the mess. But I'm sure the lil' bug can take care of it for ya." "I think you should go Mimzy. Now." Alastor demanded. 
"Oh, pfft, Alastor, you're such a kidder you! Haha, you are so funny. " laughed the flapper demoness.
"I mean it. You deliberately brought danger to this place just to have me clean up your mess." The deer glared at Mimzy, "I can't have that here."
"But you love takin' care a' me! What? You don't actually give a shit about this tacky place, do ya? Come on. I know you. You heartless son of a bitch." Mimzy giggled, poking Alastor's chest. 
"Okay, I had enough." (Y/N) interrupted, hands on his hips, "You can stay here if you want to actually try and redeem yourself, but we can all see that's not you aren't willing to change your ways, so get out of here." The prince stood at his full height, glaring down at the demoness. 
Mimzy looked curiously at Alastor, waiting for him to deny what the prince was saying. 
Alastor merely blinked. "Fine! Who needs ya? Have fun with ya lil' royals and ya lil' hotel. See if I care." Mimzy flicked the men off before leaving. 
"Ugh, finally. Thought that bitch would never leave." (Y/N) rolled his eyes before turning to walk over to the damaged hotel entrance, watching his father and sister with a thoughtful look. 
"This is getting really good." Angel smirked, as he and Husk continued to smack on popcorn, Pentious rolling his eyes at the two.
"Dad..just..help me." pleaded Charlie. 
"I...I can't." the king replied, facing away from her. 
"Why can't you?" pressed the blond princess.
(Y/N) smiled softly from where he and Vaggie were standing near the door as his father and sister finally talked about their feelings.
"Okay," Lucifer relented, "I can get you the meeting, but once you're in Heaven, I won't be able to go with you. Will you be okay?" He asked, looking into Charlie's eyes, waiting for her to answer. "I'll be fine." She promised. 
"That's my girl."
Lucifer held a hand out for (Y/N) to come and join them. The prince took his hand and smiled when the King cupped his son's cheek, looking at Angel briefly before turning to his son's mismatched eyes. 
"Eisai eftychismenos gie mou (Are you happy, son?)"  He asked. "Eimai, bampa. Me kanei...pio dynato. (I am, Dad. He makes me...stronger.) Ton agapo. (I love him.)" (Y/N) replied softly, pushing against his father's hand,just like he did when he was a little boy. Lucifer's eyes widen slightly before he smiled softly, "Kalos. (Good)." 
He took a step back, smiling proudly at his children. "Good luck, kiddos." With that, he teleported away. 
(Y/N) wiped a tear away, smiling up at Angel Dust as he came over and pulled the prince into his side, with a soft smile.
"This next part is going to be scary..." Vaggie sighed, rubbing a hand over her neck as she approached Charlie. "Are you ready?" 
"I am ready." Charlie pulled her girlfriend into a hug. " 'Cause you and (Y/N) will be with me." "In spirit, right?" Vaggie asked, still hugging the princess. 
"In Heaven." confirmed Charlie confidently.  "Yay!" Vaggie replied dryly.
*With (Y/N)*
The prince and the spider were hanging on (Y/N)'s balcony, each sitting in their respective spots, (Y/N) playing with his magic in his hands. 
*Timeskip*
The couple was sitting on top of one of the highest buildings in Pride ring, holding each other as they watched the lights below. "Mia cara...." (Y/N) started, fidgeting slightly with Angel's fingers. Angel hummed in acknowledgment, running a hand through (Y/N)'s hair. 
"We've been together for a while, a-and w-well, I um..uhh..." Angel looked down at the prince questioningly as he stuttered. 
"It's okay, amore. Take ya time." He soothed, (Y/N) sighing softly before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a tiny box.
Angel looked at the box in confusion. "Bambino..." 
"I-I know it's too early to get married, but this love that we share, I haven't felt since Archer," (Y/N) continued to play with the spider's fingers, ignoring Angel's soft gasp at the mention of his last lover. 
"This is a engagement ring, and I will wait for you. And I want to protect you, and keep you smiling because you are such a beautiful soul who deserves everything and I--" Angel pressed a kiss to the rambling prince's lips. "I will happily marry you." He whispered, holding (Y/N) close as their foreheads pressed together. "Whenever you are ready, amore mio." Angel chuckled to himself at the flustered look on (Y/N)'s face, before kissing the blond demon, turning it into a heavy make out session.
"Angel..." moaned (Y/N), gripping onto the spider's shoulders. "Mm, let's go to your room, and let me make those wings flap." Angel giggled.
*End!*
Tbh, I'm not too sure about this chapter, might do a rewrite. Let me know your thoughts!
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thebearer · 8 months
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Imagine teaching a class of little ones and you look up and Lip is in the hallway waiting to talk to you after you two had a fight (may or may not be about being pregnant) and just making up in the hallway and kicking him the fuck out of the school. “You are a grown man in a elementary school, I am really upset no one stop you, that kinda makes me nervous-“ and lip paid the security guard lol
he knew the guard from the south side, told him he fucked up. the resource officer is actually a few feet away bc he trusts lip but also... just in case lol. it is chicago with peace and love and people are insane.
he came when he knew it was their elective class time, when you'd have an hour and a half of planning to yourself so you could talk. he felt miserably guilty about the fact that he had been such a dick and even worse... he felt lonely. you were his best friend, truly. he'd never had one outside of ian, and he missed you.
"how did you manage this one?" you huff, arms crossing over yourself, a glare on your face.
"i, uh, i know marky. we grew up together." lip nods towards the still hovering guard. "i...i wanted to talk."
"i don't want to talk to you-"
"-i wanted to say i'm sorry." lip looked at you, bright eyes shining sorrowfully at you. "and...and i wanted to say i-i'm so fuckin' sorry i said that shit to you. i didn't... you're gonna be a good mom." lip took a shaky breath, a hand running down his face. "it's, uh, it's me that's gonna be the issue."
your lip wobbled, your teeth catching the tremble you hoped before lip saw it. he didn't miss it. "i don't want to have this conversation here." you muttered, looking at marky then back at the classrooms. "i'll meet you at my place at four. we can talk there."
"yeah, yeah, ok." lip nodded, heart skipping. "i'll see you then?"
you nodded curtly, waving at marky before stepping into your classroom. lip exhaled slowly, nodding at marky before the man stopped him. "think you owe me somethin', gallagher."
"really?" lip scoffed, already reaching for his wallet.
"yeah, really. could fuckin' lose my job lettin' random fucks in here like that." marky scoffed.
lip grumbled, handing the cash to marky before he left.
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