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#me every night before going to sleep and then when i wake up<3
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A Shift Occurs {part 4.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)
Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)
AN: excited to be putting out a smutty fic since i haven't in a while. i hope you enjoy part 4. feel free to help put inspo into this series by sending me things you'd like to see happen in this story. remember to reblog and leave your feedback. enjoy!!!
This story contains: fluff, smut, handjob and male receiving oral, talks of using vibrator
{ housemate!harry - softrry - friend!harry - au harry - harry's occupation is a teacher }
word count- 2,373
Your friendship is progressing quicker than anticipated and when Harry wakes up with morning wood, you decide to help his situation out.
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It's been three days since the mutual confessions of your feelings and to be completely honest, there has been little change as far as how the two of you interact. Apart from the absence of casual encounters, daily routines within the house remain unchanged from the time when you were merely housemates and just friends. But, you have noticed some subtle differences.
On Saturday night, you followed your usual routine. As the clock struck seven, you opted for Chinese take-out and settled on the couch to watch a movie. Eventually fatigue overcame you and you made the choice to call it a night. Although you had shared a bed earlier in the day during the morning nap, you believed that spending an entire night together would be rushing things, so you decided to go your separate ways.
However, following an hour of restlessness, Harry reached a point where he could no longer bear it. He rose from his bed and made his way across the hallway to your room. Being polite, he softly tapped on the door and upon hearing the invitation, "Come in," he cautiously entered. The room was dimly lit, but the moonlight filtering through the window provided just enough illumination for him to see your confused silhouette.
Curiously, you questioned, "Har... what are you doing?" while observing Harry confidently approaching your unoccupied side of the bed, dressed in only a pair of black boxer briefs. Without seeking consent, he smoothly pulled back the duvet and comfortably nestled himself beside you.
"Couldn't sleep." Harry answered before continuing, "Ever since this mornin' where we took that nap together and cuddled, I realized just how much I love sharing a bed and cuddlin' with someone. Hope this was alright."
Looking over at him as he got settled under the blankets, you replied, "Yeah, it's fine. Just thought you wanted to take this whole thing slow s'all."
"Y/n, when I said we should take our relationship slow, I meant sex. Sharing a bed and cuddlin' doesn't have to equal sex. It's purely platonic." At Harry's words, you had mixed emotions. Yes you agreed in wanting to take your progressive friendship at a slow pace but on the other hand, you also want to jump his bones every time you look into his grassy green eyes.
Since Harry was the one to take the brave step in coming into your bedroom, you made the brave step in sliding over until your body was right next to his. Quietly, you asked, "Big spoon or little spoon?"
Shyly giggling, Harry answered, "Little spoon."
"Okay, turn on your side for me." He did as told and you tightly wrapped your body around his back and hugged him to your chest. Just like Harry, you're a big cuddler too. Hence why most of the time you allowed your one-night stands to sleep over. Just to have a cuddle partner throughout the night.
The restlessness Harry had at the start of the night was now gone as you spooned him and sleep followed shortly after.
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Every night since Saturday night you've shared a bed together. Either you sleep in Harry's bed or he sleeps in yours. It's become routine at this point and you both find comfort in sleeping together. Nothing more has happened in your developing relationship. Besides the accidently touch of your clothed boobs or the time your knee accidently grazed Harry's covered cock sometime throughout the night.
On the following Sunday morning though, a shift occurs. As you awaken, you find yourself nestled in Harry's bed, with his body curled around yours. The gentle exhalations of his warm breath brush against your neck, while his chest presses against your back. However, amidst this intimate embrace, you also become aware of another sensation. Something is prodding against your ass. You aren't oblivious to its nature, yet you find yourself uncertain about how to go about this situation.
It's a dilemma whether to ignore Harry's morning boner or to assist his problem in order to potentially advance your relationship. You don't want to make him feel uncomfortable, but also ponder if his desire to take things slow is actually for your benefit. Perhaps Harry is being cautious for your sake, and he might be ready to take your friendship to the next level.
Allowing desire to take over your judgement, you slowly back your bum up against his hardened cock and subtly move your hips, hoping the feeling gives him some sort of relief. Approximately thirty seconds go by before you hear a deep grunt coming from behind you. Then suddenly you feel Harry's body jump back until you're no longer touching one another.
You decide to turn around so you're facing his direction and once you get a good look at him, you see his large hand covering his face in what you presume is embarrassment. "Um, sorry 'bout that." Harry mummers aloud. He has no control over getting an erection in his sleep and the fact it happened while spooning you, it's so embarrassing for you to witness.
"Hey," you coo softly, scooting closer to his body, "you don't need to be embarrassed. It happens and it's natural. You know, I don't mind helping you out if you want."
Harry finally takes his hand away from his face and turns his head to look at you. "Y/n, what about the takin' it slow thing?"
"Harry, you also shared the importance of things moving naturally and I'd say they are. If things naturally progress fast then we should allow it instead of ignoring it. I don't mind helping your problem out. Know you must be aching." Once you're finished speaking, you place your hand on his bare belly and teasingly drag your fingers lower and lower. "Only if you're comfortable with that idea."
His longing for your touch surpasses everything else and he nods, uttering, "Um, yeah. If you want, you can help." Now assured of his agreement, you gradually move your fingers downwards until they reach the edge of his boxers. Before proceeding further, you steal a quick glance at Harry's face, searching for any hesitation, but there are none. With certainty, you slip your fingers beneath the elastic band encircling his narrow hips.
Your fingers pass over the patch of trimmed hairs before finally bumping into the hardness you felt against your ass a couple minutes prior. Carefully and without seeing, you take ahold of his morning wood and began to tug gently at his foreskin. This isn't your first rodeo. You know what your doing. You just hope Harry's enjoying what you're doing. And by the looks of it, he is.
Harry's leaning against his pillow, head thrown back, and a quiet gasp escapes his throat. The feeling of your hand wrapped around his cock exceeds all the fantasies he had while pleasuring himself and imagining your touch.
As you skillfully stroke him with your dominant hand, an overwhelming surge of arousal consumes you, causing your clitoris to pulsate with need. Despite the almost unbearable sensation, you set aside your own desires, dedicating yourself entirely to Harry's pleasure.
The room begins to get hot and stuffy so Harry reaches down to toss the covers off his lap. This gives you a better view of your hand down his briefs. After a few minutes of stroking his dick in your hand, you start feeling some resistant and realize the dryness may be uncomfortable for Harry. You could retreat your hand and lick your palm before going back to the handjob. Or, you could do something even better.
In one swift motion, you pull your hand out of Harry's underwear and crawl between his spread thighs. Now on your knees in front of his lying figure, you lean over his lap and tug the fabric down until it's cradled under his enlarged balls. "What are you......" he goes to ask but you cut him off.
"Shhh." You crouch down and glide your tongue over a thick vein along his shaft. He's larger than you imagined. You had an inkling of his size from how thick and heavy he felt in your hands, but now, face to face with it, he's huge. And it's not just huge, it's also aesthetically pleasing. The prettiest penis you've ever laid eyes on, and you wouldn't normally consider penises to be remarkably beautiful. It's no wonder why so many men and women enjoyed their nights with him.
A deep groan escapes Harry's lips as he's consumed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure, leaving him feeling dizzy. He never imagined you would go all out with a blowjob this morning. While a handjob is pleasurable, a blowjob is an even more exhilarating experience. You expertly guide his pulsating head to your lips and playfully flick your tongue over his sensitive slit. This action causes Harry to instinctively pull away, unable to bear the intense sensitivity.
In order to maintain his stability, you position your hands on both sides of his hips and decide you've teased long him enough. Gradually, you lower your head onto his large cock. However, as you reach approximately halfway down his length, he reaches the back of your throat, causing you to gag. Momentarily, you withdraw and apologize. "Sorry, it has been a while since I've gave a blowjob."
Harry lifts his head from the pillow and gently cups the sides of your face. "Don't worry about it. Just take it easy. You don't have to go all the way down and potentially make yourself sick. Just take what you can and it will still feel good f'me." He speaks from experience, having gave blowjobs before and knowing the struggle of trying to push beyond your limits. It only results in a sore throat and a stomach ache from gagging too much.
With a nod, you lean forward and proceed to take Harry into your mouth once again. Except this time you halt just before his tip reaches the back of your throat. Shifting one of your hands from his hip to the base of his penis, you skillfully maneuver your mouth up and down, while simultaneously twisting and tugging his shaft with your hand.
Harry thinks he's in heaven. He must be. Because nothing has ever felt this good before. None of his previous one-night stands has ever gave him this good of a blowjob. Not even the ones who could skillfully deepthroat him. Nor has any of his few actual relationships gave such a good blowjob. It must be the connection and feelings he has for you that's making this experience so amazing. It means more coming from you.
You suck and tug repeatedly until Harry is close to reaching orgasm in your mouth. Uncertain if you want him to come in your mouth, he alerts you, "Y/n... M' gonna come." Rather than withdrawing as he anticipates, you descend a bit further. This time, you successfully manage to control your gag reflex and intensify your sucking until you feel Harry releasing his warm cum in your mouth.
Harry tightly clutches his sheets, his hips involuntarily thrust upwards as he reaches his climax. You softly gag once but quickly regain your composure. He tastes better then some of the guys you've tasted before. It's a bit salty but doesn't have that pungent taste some men tend to have. Must be Harry's healthy diet.
Gradually, his limbs grow weak, and as his orgasm subsides, his body begins relaxing on the bed. You remove his wet and slippery cock from your mouth, observing Harry lying there, breathing heavily with his eyes firmly closed. Reeling what just happened.
With a croaky voice, you shyly question, "Was that good?"
"Was that good? Was it GOOD??" Harry repeats dramatically, "Oh my God, Y/n, best fuckin' blowjob I've ever had."
You playfully swat at his thighs. "Be serious, Harry."
Sitting up and tucking his limp penis back into his briefs, Harry continues his praises. "M' bein' very serious, Y/n. No one has ever made me come that hard. Not a one-night stand or any of the relationships I was in. You're a pro for sure."
For a moment the air feels heavy until you annonce, "Welp, I'm gonna go take a shower. I'm meeting up with some friends for brunch at noon."
In response, Harry mustered up a somewhat awkward reply, "Um, alright. Enjoy your shower." Left alone on his bed, Harry found himself half naked and still catching his breath from the intense orgasm he experienced a few minutes prior. He had intended to ask if he could reciprocate the favor, but you had already left before he had the chance too. It crossed his mind that perhaps you weren't interested in having the favor returned.
Maybe you don't particularly enjoy oral sex performed on you. Uncertain about your preferences, Harry's confident that if given the opportunity to perform cunnilingus on you, you'd undoubtedly fall in love with his skillful tongue. Just like the all the previous women who's praised his mouths abilities.
The truth is, you had desired Harry to return the favor. However, due to just waking up, you were unsure if your pussy smelled okay, let alone tasted alright. To avoid any negative response from him like you've had in the past from guys, you left before he could catch a glimpse of your moist cunt.
Nevertheless, because you're still experiencing a slight throb in your underwear, you discreetly brought one of your silicone vibrators into the shower to quickly satisfy yourself. Although you're certain that Harry's oral skills would have been superior, you'll have to wait a bit longer to get to experience that.
Once out of the shower, you dried off and got dressed to head out for the brunch you had planned with some friends. It was going to be at a small cafe in downtown London. As for Harry, he didn't really have any plans for today. Besides catching up on grading some tests his students took the Friday before. He hopes you're available tonight because he wishes to be able to spend more time with you. He loves spending time with you. He loves y..... Nope too soon for that.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )
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My Masterlist Masterpost
Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)
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writingroom21 · 2 days
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The Nanny
Pairing: rafe x nanny reader
Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?
Warnings: 18+, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, slapping, chocking, squirting, use of daddy
Wc: 5.3K
Chapter 3: Guess we're both broken
Waking up the next morning, you tossed over to the otherside, noticing the sheets were cold. Peaking through sleep coated eyes you realize that Rafe is gone. Sitting Up you look around the room, his shirt and shorts gone as well. Not surprised that he was gone, a sinking feeling is in your chest, he used you. Once again you are left knowing that you shouldn’t have thought anything else. Should have known him being on his best behavior recently was just another ploy to sleep with you, knowing that he won. 
The rest of the day was spent moping around Tannyhill, grateful that you didn’t need to see him. Sarah being the only person you see when she stops by to get some of her things before running off again to stir up trouble. The day was so uneventful that you even decided to go to your parents cookout. Which turned out as awful as you expected it to go.
Reaching your childhood home you can see your neighbors scattered around the lawn. You notice your dad on the grill talking to one of the other dad, most likely talking about what rub or glaze he used this time. Walking around you greeted a few people who stopped you to ask how work is going. “That Cameron boy is causing you any trouble is he?” If only you knew, you thought. “No he’s not. They are all really respectful to me.” In hindsight it wasn’t a lie, they have been really nice making you feel welcomed. If the past two nights hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be so apprehensive to say it, but they did happen.
Everything seemed to be going well until you reached your mom. She was talking to some of her friends when she saw you walking their way. “Well if it isn’t my precious little angel. Hardly recognize you since we never see you.” She chuckles, trying to mask the insult with laughter. Taking a deep breath you give her a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. Been trying to visit but it’s been hectic.” Saying hi to the rest of the group was met with few words, some of them not replying at all. “How much work can it really be? The young one is practically an adult herself.” Your mom has a way of making everything you do seem insignificant or an inconvenience to her, your job being one of them. 
“You’d be surprised. Wheeze is a saint but she does give me a run for my money. I should go say hi to dad before he feels left out.” With that you walked off to greet your dad. The rest of the night was a never ending cycle of your parents making small jabs at you. Making you and the rest of the party uncomfortable every time they spoke. The cherry on the cake was when they pulled off to the side just as you were about to leave. “Sweetie, we need to ask you something and before you start getting mad you need to agree to hear us out.” Your dad says sitting on the couch looking at you, your mom next to him nodding along to his words. “Okay.”
“So you see we really need to fix up the house. You know how bad the AC is, you would have better luck keeping the fridge door open then that thing working.” Oh god you can already see where this is going, eyes rolling waiting for them to ask you for money. “Don’t roll your eyes at us, we are your parents.” Your mother scolded. “Anyway.” your dad continues. “We don’t have the money to get it fixed. The mortgage is barely even being covered as it is, we just need you to spot us some money. Just enough to get us going.” Taking a deep breath and cooling your nerves. “How much?” you ask.
“4,000.” Your eyes widen at the price, that's a whole month's worth of pay, let alone you don’t have that on you right now due to helping them out. “4,000? You need me to give you 4,000 dollars? By when?” The questions shootout at them. “Yes 4,000 and we need it now preferably.” So that’s why they invited you today, not because they miss you like they claim but because they need money. “I don’t have that kind of money on me or in my account.” “What do you mean you don’t have that money? What’s the point of working for some kooks if they don’t pay you well.” Your dad scoffs turning and looking at your mom. “What did I tell you? I told you she wouldn’t help us.”
This really can’t be happening right now. You have been working since you were 14 to contribute to the bills, every paycheck going straight into their hands. “I have been helping you. I’ve been helping you for the past six years with every bill in this house.” “We never asked you to do that.” Your mother rebuttals, taking another sip from the glass of wine in her hand. “Yes you have!.” you exclaim. “You are literally asking me for 4,000 dollars as we speak. Every time you ask me for money I hand it over without making a fuss, but this I can’t do. I have my own expenses, you know.”
“What expenses? All of a sudden you live in a fancy mansion and you’re too good to help out your parents.” Your dad’s words hurt you. You have tried to be their perfect daughter your whole life. The perfect grade, the scholarship, then declining the scholarship because they begged you not to go. Every life choice you’ve made has been to cater them and their wants. “Yes, dad, my expenses. I have my own car that I pay for by myself, a car loan as well, I even have to buy my own groceries. Then on top of that I send the both of you practically all of my paychecks. I’ve been scraping by trying to make it all work, why can’t the two of you just realize I can’t do this.” Your pleas fall onto deaf ears as they both get up from the couch. “If you aren’t willing to help us then there’s nothing left to talk about. You know where the door is.”
Watching as the walk away tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The drive back to Tannyhill seemed longer than it usually did. The conversation played on repeat throughout the whole drive. Parking your car you rush to the front door, all you want to do is lay in your bed and cry. Tears are already falling from your eyes as you close the front door. “Well what do we have here, country club? This that nanny you keep hiding from me?” You recognize the voice, you’ve seen and heard him around Tanny when Rose or Ward is gone. Barry is his name you think not really caring to find out you just walk down the hall. “Not much of a talker I see.”
“Leave her alone.” Rafe’s voice makes your ears perk up. Even though every muscle in your body is telling you to keep walking and not to look at him, you cave. Eyes meeting he can see the tears in them. “You okay, sunny?” You can’t do this right now, can’t get caught up in him just for him to leave once again. Without saying a word you brush past him, bounding up the stairs to the second floor. But before you can slam your bedroom door you can hear Barry talk. “The fuck you do to her?”
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The next morning you had yourself locked in your room just thinking. First about your parents and then about Rafe, then your parents and Rafe once again. It was torture having to sit in the room replaying ever interaction to see where things went wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you about the Rafe situation but it might for your parents. 
Looking at the clock by the bed you see that it's almost one in the afternoon. Deciding that you can’t sit her a mope for the rest of your life, you get up and get ready. Ward had given you a membership to the country club when you first started, he thought it would be better since you can accompany Wheezie when she goes. A nice relaxing day at the club, eating the fancy food is just what you needed.
It didn’t take long to get there or to find a seat by the pool, most of the people are on the golf course anyway. The only people by the pool are the wives that have kids and the teens who were there for the lifeguard. Stripping from clothes you are left in the red bikini you wore, you put on some sunscreen before laying down on the lounge chair soaking up the rays. 
The sun feels nice against your skin, the heat relaxing your tense muscles finally being given a break. After about thirty minutes you flip over allowing your back to tan, not wanting to be uneven. The sound of kids laughing and the busy club lull you into a peaceful mind. So what if your parents are upset? You have done more than enough to help them out over the years, you can’t keep digging them out of their messes. Who even knows where most of the money you send them goes, it’s definitely not toward the house.
So what if Rafe is a dick who just uses girls and dumps them to the side? You can’t control who he is and clearly he just wanted to hookup nothing more. All that you can do now is just keep to yourself, it’s better to protect your peace then being his new play thing. Then why does it hurt? Shaking off the thoughts you notice how hot you started to get. 
The sun is beating down on you, sweat forming on your skin causing you to stick to the chair. Getting up you head into the pool, the cold warmer cooling you off as you float. You didn’t know this but a few feet away on the dining patio sat Rafe with Topper and Kelce. Rafe was half listening while the two boys talked about something he didn’t care about. His mind kept bringing back the picture of your crying face from last night.
As soon as Barry left he went straight to your room but the door was locked. He sat there for a second and heard nothing from the otherside of the door, assuming you went to bed he left for his room. When he woke up this morning it was all that he could think of, seeing you like that hurt him. You looked like he did after his dad made him feel less of, the thought of you feeling like that made his blood boil. But showing you he cared shows that he needs you, that he actually cares for, that’s not who he is.
No Rafe is the type of guy that fucks everything in his life up, dropped out of school, is a failure to his dad and in relationships. That's what he’s good at, you’ll see it eventually so why even try? Looking out to the course, he can see the pool from here, looking at all the bodies laying around. The red swimsuit draws his eyes down your body, recognizing you as you walk out the pool. The water drips down your stomach, down your legs, but the droplet in between your breasts has him staring. 
Rafe isn’t the only one staring, the few teen boys are staring, then there’s the lifeguard. Rafe remembers him from school and doesn’t like the fact he’s staring at you. He watches as you dry yourself off, putting the shirt and shirt you wore back on. Looking as you gather your things and escape his view as you leave, the boys gather his attention. “Dude are you even listening?” His eyes move back to them “Yeah.” 
You make your way through the halls, carding through your memory to remember how to get to the dining. As you walk, members of the club look at you, judging you for the way your shirt has wet spots from your swimsuit and hair. You decide to sit at the bar not wanting to deal with anyone today. “How can I help you m’lady.” You put the menu down to meet JJ’s gaze. “Oh my god! Jayj hi.” You squeal, catching the attention of patrons including Rafe. 
“I haven’t seen you in a while. Joining the darkside has really changed you.” He looks around before leaning a bit closer. “How is it on the other side? Miss us already?” He teases. “Of course I miss all of you.” You playful push his shoulder, JJ raises his hands up in surrender before resting his body weight on the bar counter arms next to yours. Rafe stares in shock at the scene playing in front of him. You, his girl, flirting with fucking Maybank of all people.
He sees JJ push a piece of hair behind your hair and you giggle. The chair scraping against the floor alerted the boys, he didn’t even realize he was even up and walking over to the two of you. “Where are you going?” Kelce calls out to him. “I’ll be right back.” As he gets closer he can hear your conversation more clearly. “You should come to the bonfire this week. I’ll make it worth your time.” JJ flirts, Rafe coming up right behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking over your shoulder you can see the look of anger on his face and the smirk painted on JJ's face. 
“Sunny! I didn’t know you were going to be here. Maybank why don’t you run along and get me another drink.” He says with a condescending tone, glaring at the blonde boy. “Rafe.” You say as a warning, already seeing how this is going to end. “What? I’m just asking the help to do his job. Right Maybank?” “I was actually helping out this beautiful customer. Ain’t that right baby?” JJ remarks getting closer to you. The look on Rafe’s face could probably kill JJ if he tried hard enough.
Rafe leans against the counter, his body facing you. “You really slumming it around with this loser? You like being around trash?” His comment made you see red.  How fucking dare he? You knew he kinda took the kook and pogue thing seriously but to call them trash. It’s like he forgets that you are also a pogue, that if it wasn’t for his father you would still be living on the cut with the rest of them. Which is true, he doesn't see you as a pogue or the help. 
To him you’re a kook, you belong with them, with him. “Yes I do. Now this trash is going to take itself out like the “help” do.” You say quoting help as a reminder that you also are the help. “I’ll see you around Jayj.” You tell the blonde looking at you with worried eyes before storming off. “Yeah see ya.” He calls out looking at Rafe for a moment. “Man I knew you were dumb but god damn. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen you do.” He laughs and walks away to go serve other customers. Rafe knows he’s right, potentially just fucked up whatever the two of you had before it actually really started. More than he has already done by ignoring you for the past day and a half.
He makes his way back to the table, the guys watching as he takes out a wad of cash and throwing it on the table. “I gotta go.” He exclaims, rushing to try and catch you before you have the chance to fully leave. Racing out of the building he sees you in the distance looking for your car. Jogging he catches up to you grabbing your arm and yanking you back to him. “Let go of of me!” You yell at him turning and pushing his chest hard. “No! Come one just talk to me.” He exclaims fighting you to make you stay and hear him out. “Are you kidding me? Talk it out? You just insulted me and my friend.” “No I insulted him. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 
You scoff pulling your arm free from his grip. “So calling him trash just because he’s a pogue doesn’t insult me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m also a pogue. I came from the cut just like he does. Does that shit actually really mean something to you? Are you that fucking stupid?” Rafe’s been called stupid many times in his life, from Ward, his sisters, hell even Rose has called him stupid. He knows that he makes things difficult and not many people like him. But hearing you call him stupid fills him with more rage then seeing Maybank think he can have his girl. “Hey don’t you fucking dare. Say whatever every the fuck you want but I ain’t stupid you fucking hear me.” 
He grips your cheeks, pinching them together. “Don’t you ever call be stupid again got it?” You should be scared, you’ve seen his temper before, seen him throw shit around the house or get into a fight with people at parties. You don’t know what to do being on the receiving end of his anger, then his words ring in your ear making you angry all over again. That ache in your pants is ignored as you wrench your head out of his hand. “I don’t know what your problem is but if you put your hands on me again you’ll regret it. You think just because everyone else is scared of you that I will be too? News flash buddy I’m not.” “Don’t call me buddy.” His voice was weaker than it was when he was yelling. 
“You don’t get it.” He states turning away from you and letting you go. “You’re right I don’t. You don’t talk to me for two days completely ignoring me after you got what you wanted. Then when I’m catching up with a friend you come in guns blazing as if the world is about to end. What’s wro-“ “He was touching and flirting with you.” He cuts off your rant, stunning you into silence. “So what if he was?” Rafe’s eyes darken hearing you defend him, telling him you actually enjoyed the attention that you were getting from another guy. “So what?” He laughs differently from his normal one, darker than what you are used to.
 “You really think I want some other guy touching you? Do you fuck him too?” “You’re jealous?” You meant it as a statement but it came out more like a question. “Yeah I’m jealous. All those guys in there would give up all their money just to get a chance with you. You don’t know them like I do, they would jump at the chance to get with a beautiful girl.” This is the third time he’s insinuated you are beautiful in some way. “Well maybe I should give them a shot. You obviously” His lips crash to yours, not allowing you to finish. This is different from the other kisses you’ve shared, more intense. He’s trying to tell you he’s scared of losing you, a crazy thought considering you aren’t even his.
How can he feel so strongly for you than he already did? It’s no secret that he’s always had a thing for you but this is different. The thought of you leaving him for another person actually terrifies him. Everyone has left him and he can’t stand the thought of you being another person who walks away. You try fighting him again but all efforts die when his tongue makes its way into your mouth. Rafe has this effect on you that you can’t explain.
There was always this soft spot for him but now that the lines have muddled together it’s hard to separate your feelings. Arms wrap around his shoulder pulling the two of you closer to each other, bodies pressed together. He pulls away from you for a second allowing the two of you to catch your breaths.  “Get in the car. I’ll meet you back at the house.” Fully pulling away you straighten out your clothes that got a little skewed from making out. He goes to walk to his truck, you stop him. “You can’t just get upset like that and make a scene. If this thing between us is going to work you have to talk to me, okay?” Eyes softening looking at your expression he takes a step forward placing a kiss on your forehead. “Okay.” With that he walks away leaving you standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering what the hell just happened.
The both of you race back to Tanny, Rafe’s truck behind your car. Reaching the house, you make your way inside waiting for him to get here, you lost him at a red light on the way over. You go to the kitchen to get water, the sound of the front door opens, Rafe’s footsteps echoing through the hall. “You think you can just go around and flirt with people?” He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white polo stretching around his biceps. “I thought we talk-” “No I’m not done.” He enters the room, staring at your body with dark eyes. “Strip.”
The grip on the water bottle tightens. “What?” Rafe is now in front of you, taking the water from your hands, whipping the stray drop on your lips. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip before releasing it. “Strip and get on your knees. I need to teach you a lesson, I don’t like people thinking they can have what’s mine.” You look at him before following the instructions, staring up at him as he unbuttons his pants to take his dick out.
“Open.” You do without a second thought. “Good girl.” He mumbles, forcing himself in and setting a brutal pace. You have to catch yourself on his thighs just so you don’t fall, his hand holding you in place. Hips thrusting into you, your throat gladly accepts the intrusion, gargling on his length. Tears pooling on your bottom lashes, spilling down your cheeks, making Rafe go harder on you. “Look at you. A mess of spit and tears for my cock. Think maybank can do this for you?”
He’s still on about what happened at the club, to tell the truth you were too. His jealousy causes mixed emotions in you. On one instance you like seeing how possessive he was for you, on the other he resorts to insults to get his way. You give him a rough suck, eyes meeting his. “Fuck.” Rafe pulls out, yanking you up and bending you over the kitchen island. His body covering yours as he lines himself up, you're so wet that you aren’t worried about the pain. You were sure that he would fit, no preparation needed. “Told you I would bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.”
With that he slammed into you, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He halts when he’s ball deep, giving you a moment to gather yourself, only a moment. His thrust pushes you further into the island, sure enough to leave marks on your hip tomorrow morning. You don’t even care, he feels too good, the feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. Whimpers keep leaving your mouth. Rafe grabs your arms, using them as leverage to fuck you harder as he keeps them pinned behind you back by one hand.
“Harder.” You moan out. Your body tingling from all the pleasure he’s giving you, your peak creeping around the corner embarrassingly fast. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to fuck her faster?” The degradation goes straight to your clit, walls fluttering around his length. He goes harder for a few minutes before pulling out, a whine of protest leaving you. “You don’t get to cum yet.” Rafe’s hot breath in your ear, his body heat leaving you too. 
He turns you around and hoists you onto the island, spreading your legs to step in between them. Left hand going to guide himself back into you, gliding across your fold to get you hip and bring you closer to the edge. In this angle he hits you deep, pushing against your cervix with each thrust.
Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly just enough to have your mind all fuzzy. You roll your eyes back grasping onto his bicep, manicured nails digging into his flesh leaving crest shaped marks. Rafe hisses at the sensation enjoying the flash of pain radiating in his arm. He starts fucking you hard, pounding into you having his dick spear into your g-spot. His unoccupied hand takes hold of your hair, pulling you till your foreheads are pressed together. His watch digging into the back of your neck, chested firmly pressed to each other, sharing each breath.
 “Squeezing my dick so fucking good baby. Can you hear how bad your pussy needs it?” Rafe moans out. You can, you’re so wet that every time he fucks into you squelching fills the room. You open your mouth but a particular thrust makes you moan instead. The hand in your hair retracts, your head leaning back slightly, it comes down on your cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt but enough to have pain heat your face. You moan liking the feeling of the smack, mostly just enjoying the fact that he lost himself to the point of causing a bit of pain. 
“You like me hitting you baby?” When you moan he smacks you again, annoyed that you won’t speak. “Use your words.” Rafe’s hand cupping your jaw staring at your fucked out expression, the hand around your neck tightens as his pace increases. You’re wetness mixing with his pre-cum leaking out of you, making a mess between you two. “I like it sir.” It comes out more like a breath but it counts. “My good little girl. You gonna cum for me? Hmm cum for daddy.” The new nickname was the nail in the coffin, the tightness in your belly finally snapping.
 This feeling was a new thought. It was so intense and it didn’t feel like an orgasim that you’ve had before. Your walls squeeze rage so tight that it pushes him out of you, your release gushing out getting everything wet. “Did you just fucking squirt?” Rafe pushes his dick back in, fucking you harder than before. “Such a dirty fucking slut, squirting and getting everything wet.” Moans keep getting pulled from you, pouring out into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Oh fu-fuck… I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it.” “Inside please.” 
If telling him to cum inside you didn’t make him cum, it was the please that did it. Rafe ruts into you, hips stuttering as he fills you with each squirt of him cum. The warm feeling making you moan and flutter against him. He rides out both of your highs, hips finally stopping when they met yours, keeping you plugged. He want to stay there, wants to just feel you, wrapping his arms around your body. He’s enjoying knowing you are stuffed full of him, that his cum is so deep that it's forced out around him. Pulling out slowly you both hiss, you at the feeling of him spilling from you, and him as he’s fixated watching it come out. 
Kissing you for a moment, Rafe pulls away walking to the sink, wetting a rag before going back to clean you up. The touch is so gentle that it barely hurts. He helps you put your clothes back on dragging the both of you over to the living room. He throws himself down on the couch taking you along with him, pulling you closer . “What happened last night.” You hand playing with his shirt stops. “Huh?” Moving your head to his shoulder you look him in the eyes. “You were crying last night. What happened?” 
“Oh” Trying to shift away from him, being blocked by his arms tightening keeping you in place. “It was just some fight with my parents. It’s nothing.” “It is something, it made you cry.” You wish he would stop trying to pry, it’s not as if he cares. Honestly you expected him to flee once your clothes were back on. Pulling you to the couch was unexpected but asking you to talk about your parents was too much. Too personal. The lines of friendship and having feelings are already getting muddled as it is, this would just push it further. 
“Hey.” It’s soft, lips brushing my forehead before he places a kiss there. “You said we have to communicate, right? Talk to me.” With a sigh you tell him everything. How since you were barely able to work you gave them all your money last night. “They expected me to just hand over 4,000 dollars like it’s nothing. Then when I finally put my foot down I’m a disappointment. Nothing I do anymore is right.” Rafe’s hand rubs your arms trying to soothe you. 
“You aren’t a disappointment. If they can’t handle the fact you have your own life then fuck them.” You slap his chest lightly. “I’m serious. You’ve done more than enough for them, if they can’t see that then it’s their loss." A moment of silence, his words soaking in as you both lay there. “Thank you. I” You don’t know what else to say, fingers tracing shapes along his chest. 
“I know what you’re feeling. My dad um he always lets me know how much of a fuck up I am. I know what it’s like to be a disappointment, you don’t even come close.” The confession felt foreign on his tongue. Rafe never opened up to anyone about his feelings, anytime he tried he was met with a “man up” or “this is how a man handles things”, he’s scared of what you will say. He feels you slip from his arms, closing his eyes not wanting to see you leave him alone, trying to calm the burning behind his eyelids. 
“I don’t think you’re a failure.” Blue eye’s open to meet yours, there’s a hint of vulnerability from what you can see. You lean down pecking his lips, pulling away to get a better look of him. “You’re more than what he sees. It’s a shame he doesn’t take the time to notice.” It was your turn to leave him without words. He’s searching your eyes, your face, for any sign that you were lying. That you were pitying him after he devolved a hidden secret. He knows you’ve heard his Dad yell at him but this is different. 
He can put on a mask after talking to Ward when he has to see you. This time he tore the mask off, wanting you to see him without the facade. “I don’t think that about you.” “Huh?” You respond with confusion filling your face. “I don’t think that you’re trash. You are probably the best thing to come out of Outer Banks.” He’s not lying or at least you don’t think he is. The look in his eyes tells you that he actually means it so you smile down at him. “The best thing huh.” You tease. “Don’t push it.”
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Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.
Does that even make any sense?😭
Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit
Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope
TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy
Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌
Dear (Y/N),
I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.
Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.
I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.
I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.
I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.
I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.
I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.
I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.
I want to go every where you go.
I want to slow dance with you.
I want to head bang with you.
I want to paint with you.
I want to sing to you.
I want to hold you.
I want you.
I love you.
I’m in love with you.
And I’m sorry.
Sincerely,
Sally <3
Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.
He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.
Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.
~next morning~
‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.
You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.
Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“
You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.
“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.
“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.
As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.
“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.
“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.
“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.
And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol
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ddoxhan · 1 day
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stay by my side
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if there is no one next to you I’ll just be behind you, just stay by my side
word count : 0.9k words
genre : classic angst; giselle x gn! reader; days were never the same anymore but your feelings for aeri will always be unchanging for as long time exists
t/w : nothing :) this is just some good ol' angst
a/n : not much plot to it but ! it's the feels of not being able to forget someone and maybe, you're better off longing for them than try pressing down your feelings. anyone out there longing for their special someone, I just wanna say it's okay to feel that way :3 it may not be the healthiest choice, but allow yourself to long for that person until you feel it's time to actually let them go <3 enjoy !
things were just never the same anymore, it couldn't. I'd keep having dreams about you, about us. those sweet, spring memories we shared now embedded in my head like a broken record. those days when we spent our mornings showering each other with kisses, when we would take night walks in the park, when we talked about spending the rest of our lives together. those days, when we loved each other like there was no tomorrow. we did, but it just didn't last forever just like what we had wished under that shooting star.
I admit, that I still love you, the same or maybe even more than I did back then. I truly believed that we were meant to be, and no one can tell me otherwise as I've seen those eyes of yours bear the same endearment for me as I do for you. it sounds cheesy, but I am willing to be if it's you. however, as much as I want to let go of you, I don't think I'd ever come to terms with the fact that you did. we were so beautiful, don't you think so? it was as if the world revolved around us. I know we will never be able to go back to those days, to love each other again.
every night that came and went in the same repertoire. staring straight at the ceiling, reminiscing the times I still had you in my arms, crying myself to sleep, jolting awake from the same nightmare, hugging myself back to sleep. the pain was almost unbearable when it gets to the nightmare. it was my regrets for not doing my best for you, and the mistakes that I wished I hadn't made. I could never stand to see tears in your eyes, especially if it was because of me. on the day you left, you looked me in the eye, with tears threatening to roll down your crimson cheeks. that moment broke my heart to pieces, noticing the burning sensation of the wind against my skin.
it seems I have already lost you, with no chance to turn back time.
when I'm sober, everything I did numbed me to the core. when I wake up to your side of the bed empty, seeing that the once lively space all dull with silence, the fridge slowly emptying, leaving nothing but water and some alcohol. it's like I stopped functioning properly when you're not with me. the flowers that you loved so much don't look as lively, the warm breeze that greeted us daily slowly getting chilly, the stars that we spent hours looking at don't sparkle as much. you brought so much color to my world, and it returned back to being monochromatic, like those times before I met you.
you brought so much joy to my life, and I have never felt so grateful for being alive. it was the first time I felt so euphoric, fortunate to see that very smile of yours when you look at me with such affection. that smile was for me, because of me, only me. you made me feel like the luckiest person on earth to love someone as wonderful as you are. I can only hope you felt the same way as I did.
all the things in my life took a turn, not a good one at that, after you left. you took a part of me with you when you told me that things weren't working out. what did that mean? was I not doing good enough? did your feelings for me change? there were so many questions I want to ask, but sometimes, they were better left unanswered. these daggers piercing through my heart are more than enough to leave me bleeding profusely till I can't feel love anymore.
as I spent each day, yearning for your warmth and affection, there's something that I've come to realize as I take a step back to look at things. there will be no one else who would be able to fill your spot, not even with time. it's been months, almost a year that I've been standing here, not knowing what is wrong with me. that's because, nothing is wrong. everything made so much sense.
I love you and nothing can ever change that fact. even if you don't love me anymore, that's okay. all I will do is just stand here right behind you, protecting you from the shadows. although there might not be someone who would be by your side all the time, I will be right here behind you. until the day I get the chance to stand next to you, be the one you can rely on, I will be here for you.
there will be a day where we meet again, whether it be by chance or fate. and when that day comes, I want to be stronger than I am now, to give you that smile you loved so much when we were us. until then, I will take this role as your dark knight. looking over you from somewhere you wouldn't notice, offering you a hand when you struggle, finding solace right here. I know you would be able to tell that I am here, but please, leave me be. for the day I am able to let you go, will hopefully come.
so let me stay by your side for now, aeri.
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Hi! So I was just wondering if you could to an angst to fluff one-shot with either James Hetfeild or Duff Mckagan?? (Whichever era and whoever you pick:>. And only if you want to, if not totally fine!)
Basically, just whoever you pick to write for comes home late from the studio on him and readers anniversary and had completely forgotten until he saw reader asleep with dry tears on her face. And the next morning they do everything they can to make up for forgetting their anniversary and ends up succeeding:)
(Hope that makes sense)
A/n: This is quite possibly my favourite angst prompt to exist. When I saw the request I planned to write for both but then I got ever so very carried away with it, I hope that's ok :'3 Also sorry for the shitty ending lol think I could've done better with that one.
Warnings: Angst, I don't know what warnings to add for angst so if you find anything please let me know :'3
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Guns N’ Roses had just come back from tour, just in time for yours and Duff’s anniversary. It had been a few days since they got back and he was exhausted, sleeping in late, staying out even later. When the date of your anniversary finally hit you reminded him over and over again up until he left to not be late.
It hurt when he didn’t come home.
You made his favourite meal, got him gifts and put on your favourite outfit to impress him. You expected him home before food was ready but he was nowhere to be found even after you finished setting the table. You decided to do what you could to keep the food warm and wait for him.
11:00 pm rolled around and still no sign of Duff. You told yourself he just lost track of time, you didn’t need to eat together anyway since you ate together every other night as well. You got yourself a plate and ate alone, getting everything else in the fridge for leftovers.
12:00 pm and still no Duff. You decided to just cut your losses and go to bed. You got into something more comfortable for sleep and crawled into bed.
It wasn’t long before you felt tears trickling down your cheeks and you started softly crying into your pillow.
Duff came home much later. He was ready to crash, his body hurt and all he wanted was to crawl into bed with you, but first he needed food so he went to the kitchen and dug around a bit.
In the fridge were his favourite things, all freshly made. Well, freshly made-ish. They’d been in the fridge a while, still good for eating though. He got himself a plate and he could swear that first bite sent him to heaven.
He was eating at the kitchen table and noticed some bags in the corner so he went to investigate. He found a jacket he’d been wanting, shirts and records of his favourite bands, even a new watch he’d seen a while back and mentioned he’d liked. He stared at all of it in confusion, why’d it all suddenly appear? Why was it here?
He thought about it good and hard and finally landed on the reasoning. He forgot your fucking anniversary.
Duff ran into your bedroom to see if you were still awake and of course you weren’t. He kneeled beside you on the floor, pushing your hair out of your eyes to reveal dried tear streaks from puffy, red eyes. “Fuck.” He sighed. He kissed your forehead but you pulled away from his touch. He had to mentally beat himself up after that one.
He saw that the apartment was a bit of a mess and wanted to clean it up but he was just so tired. He made the decision to wait until tomorrow and then he’d get up and do whatever he could to make it up to you.
Duff crawled into bed, tossing and turning a bit. He reached out for you to pull you in so he could hold you but you seemed like you would wake up so he stopped, not wanting to disturb you.
The next morning Duff woke up slowly, groggily rolling over to check the time. The clock on the bedside table read ‘1:34 pm’ and he was filled with panic, suddenly wide awake. He sat up and looked to see your side of the bed empty.
He got out of bed to go look for you. The apartment was suddenly spotless and you were sitting on the couch, peacefully folding laundry while the radio was going. He sat beside you and took the shirt you were folding from you. “Let me do it.”
You stared at him for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do laundry.” You said, watching his chopping folding skills. “Let alone offer to do it.” Duff stared at the shirt in his hands, disappointed in his own skills, or rather lack thereof. “And now I see why.” You reached for the shirt back but he refused, holding it away from you.
“No! No, I-I’ll get it.” He unfolded the shirt so he could try again. You went to grab another piece of clothing to fold but he stopped you. “I can do it just-just go do something else.” You were confused at his sudden behaviour but decided not to question it. You went to the kitchen to clean some dishes instead.
Duff stood up when he heard the water running and went over to you. “What are you doing?” He asked as he took the plate from you.
“The dishes?” You answered, starting to get a little frustrated with what he was doing.
“No, just do something fun.” He said and set the dish down and turned the water off.
“Something fun?” You repeated, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Yeah! Just, like, I don’t know, go read! Watch TV, hell, take my card and go-go shopping, buy whatever you want!” He urged, just wanted to do something for you.
“Something fun?” You repeated, your sadness from the night before and frustration now boiling together. “Something fun I wanted to do was have a nice night with my boyfriend on our fucking anniversary, but I guess we don’t always get what we want, right?” You glared at him for a moment before taking the plate back and starting the water again.
Duff paused and reached for the plate again. “I’m sorry, really, I completely forgot.” He started washing the plate for you and you tried to grab it back.
“Just forget it, alright? It’s fine.” You mumbled and went back to washing it. Duff grabbed it back again.
“Don’t say it’s fine when it’s not.” You grabbed the plate again but Duff didn’t let go. “Let me take care of things today, alright?”
“Duff, I can do things myself.” You stated.
“I know you can because you always do and I’m trying to be nice so please just let me do it!” He pulled on the plate and it slipped out of both your hands, shattering on the floor at your feet. Duff froze, looking between the broken glass and your hurt expression. “I-I’ll clean it up.” Duff said and went to get a broom.
He returned to find you on your knees picking up the little pieces of porcelain. He dropped the broom and rushed over to you, taking your hands away from the broken shards. “What the hell are you doing?! You can’t use your... hands...” He realised what plate it was that broke. A piece of your parents china from their wedding.
Instinctively he went to hold you. “Fuck, I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, pushing him away.
“We can fix it, I promise.” He picked up two pieces and tried putting them together like a puzzle.
“Duff, just stop!” You yelled. He put the pieces down and looked at your face, seeing tears starting to leave your eyes again. He knew if he went to hug you you’d push him away again. He just didn’t know what to do.
So, he got up and went back to the living room, leaving you to cry alone in the kitchen while you pick up the pieces. He knew the only reason the plate needed to be cleaned in the first place was because you used it for what was supposed to be a special occasion, your anniversary.
He tried folding the laundry again, he sucked at it but it didn’t have to be good so long as he could get it done and put away. Anything to help you, even in a small way. He listened to your soft sobs from the kitchen, knowing he couldn’t do anything about it.
He brought the clothes to the bedroom and put everything away where he thought it was supposed to go. He turned around and saw the bed wasn’t made so he started on that next. Afterwards he went back to the kitchen, thinking you’d still be picking up the pieces. Instead you were hiding in the corner, knees pulled up to your chest as you cried.
He didn’t care if you tried pushing him away, he’d never seen you so broken, you could have a gun to his head and he’d still try to get to you in this state.
He pulled you onto his lap and held you close, kissing all over your face. “Baby, what’s wrong?” At this point you didn’t have the energy to push away from him so you just accepted it.
“I-I c-can’t fix it.” Your voice was weak and shaky as you spoke. Duff held you tighter to him.
“It’s ok, just gotta give it a minute.” He whispered. “I’ll help you, alright?” You shook your head, which hurt Duff but he wouldn’t tell you that, you didn’t need to hear that right now. “We could bring it to a professional or something.”
“A professional plate fixer?” You asked. Duff wasn’t sure if you were joking or not.
“I mean, I’m sure we could find someone.” He tried wiping your tears and you stood up. Your legs were shaky under you and Duff went to hold onto you “Where’re you going?”
“Bed.” You muttered. “I just- I want to go to bed.”
“Here, let me-” Duff tried to pick you up but you stopped him.
“No, just- stop.” He did as you asked and let you walk away to the bedroom, watching the door closed behind you.
Duff paused for a moment, trying to think of how he could possibly fix this. He started picking up the pieces of the plate and put them in a plastic container before heading on his journey to find someone to fix it.
He looked around for ages, it was getting dark and he was running out of options when he saw a china shop. He figured if they couldn’t fix it they could at least find him a replica or something.
“Hi, sorry, are you still open?” He asked as he entered the shop. Inside was a Japanese man and his daughter.
“We’re about to close.” The daughter said. Duff let out a heavy breath and placed the container on the counter.
“Can you find me a replica of this? Please?” He asked. The man opened the container and looked at the pieces for a moment before shaking his head. He said something in Japanese, of course Duff couldn’t understand so he looked to the daughter for a translation.
“There isn’t a replica but he said he can fix it.” Duff let out a sigh of relief at that.
“Even better, um, how do you do it?” He asked the man to be respectful even though he knew he wouldn’t understand the answer.
“Kintsugi, it’s a Japanese artform to fix pottery and such.” The daughter explains in a simplified way. Duff nods in understanding and thanks them both before heading back to your shared apartment, hoping he did a good thing.
He made one last stop on his way back home to get your favourite snacks from a convenient store. It’s not much but he wanted to do something, he’d bring you shopping tomorrow and get you more.
“I’m back!” He called as he stepped into the apartment. He carried the bag of snacks into the bedroom where he assumed you still were. Sure enough you were there, under the covers. He went to check if you were sleeping since he thought it was a little early for bed.
“Hey, darling, I got you snacks.” He kneeled down beside you, just as he’d done the night before. There was no response. “I’ll just leave them here for you, alright?” He whispered with a sad, tired smile. He stood up and left but not before giving you a kiss on the forehead. “I love you.” He muttered before closing the door behind him.
He made a makeshift bed for himself on the couch, a thin blanket that didn’t reach his feet, it barely reached his knees, and a small, flimsy throw pillow under his head for some form of comfort.
He managed to fall asleep not long after, only to have a dream of you walking out on him. He awoke in a cold sweat and ran into the bedroom to find you still asleep. He thought about crawling in with you before realising that you could just as easily leave if he was there with you than if he wasn’t.
In front of the door was his solution. He brought over his pillow and blanket and got uncomfortable laying there, now if you wanted to leave you’d have to move him.
You woke up and found the bag of snacks he’d gotten for you, all your favourites of course. You got out of bed to find him crashed on the floor. Thinking he’d overdosed or something you ran over to him and started shaking him awake.
“What, what is it?” He grumbled, slowly sitting up.
“Jesus Christ.” You sighed and hugged him. “I thought you fucking died!” Duff paused a moment before processing it and hugging you back.
“No, I’m fine.” He mumbled, moving his face into the crook of your neck. “You would’ve come to me like that if I died?” He asked with a soft chuckle.
“Fucking idiot, of course I would!”
“Even after everything, you still love me..?” He asked in a much softer tone. You pulled away for a moment.
“First of all, me seeing if you were alive had nothing to do with love.” You stated and pulled him back into a hug. “And of course I still love you, but I can love you and be pissed at you at the same time.” He chuckled at that.
“I found a place to fix your plate, by the way.” He said.
“Is that where you went last night?” He nodded and explained the whole thing to you.
“I was thinking we could hang out today, go shopping and get you some late anniversary presents?” He offered, he was taking you whether you wanted to or not but he wanted it to seem like it was your decision. You nodded and went to get ready.
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tomssexdoll · 9 hours
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part 2 to the night we met because I need a happy ending and you guys do too
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The media was filled with Toms accident, papparazzi had already taken photos, plastering pictures of his staker walking away from the scene.
Little did they know I was still in hospital with Tom. 20 minutes later they found a pulse again, by some miracle he had survived.
I sighed in relief, my heart thumping out of my chest. He slowly woke up, groggy and extremely tired. They gave him some fluids and food and treated him.
After 3 weeks he got better, we returned home and he had a slight limp, still recovering from a nasty shot wound. It had punctured an important artery but was 2mm from killing him completely.
We turned on the news and saw her face burn into the screen, a mugshot of her, her eyes evil, full of rage.
I turned it off, not wanting to see her ever again, flashes of that night haunting my mind. I turned to Tom and just held him close, his weak arms wrapping around me softly.
"I'm here baby..it's ok" he whispered into my hair, I started to sob, just like I did at the accident. Tears flowed from my eyes and onto his shirt, drenching it completely.
"Oh baby..don't cry" he winced, pulling me closer and kissing the top of my head, "I was so scared..you being pronounced dead for 20 minutes was the worst time of my life, the longest 20 minutes I'd ever experienced.." I sniffled, looking up at him and holding his face in my hands, needing to touch him desperatly, feel his skin on mine.
"I don't want to lose you again" I cried out "I need to feel your skin on mine to feel safe again, feel content" he nodded and just held me for hours, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, reassuring me nothing bad was ever going to happen again, that she was far away from us and wouldn't be getting out of jail.
The band decided to take a break from touring and cancelled the last city they were going to play at. From then on we upgraded our security, getting bodyguards and therapy for the both of us. Some nights I'd wake up from horrendus nightmares of the night. Sometimes it was just her face, some was just him being slowly dragged away, but all would end in me screaming and waking up in a cold sweat, Tom having to hold me for a full hour before I was ready to sleep again.
It was scary, the whole situation traumatized me but I was glad I had Tom, if I lost him the world would stop turning, nothing would matter anymore. When I'm not with him, I hold that photo I took of him that night close, texting him every 5 minutes to see if he's ok.
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tags: @itsmealaiah @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @bkaulitzlover @ballhair @estxkios @charliesgoodboy @ge-billsgf
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kiki-strike · 4 months
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PTSD is so stupid saw a jar of biscoff cookie butter at the store and went ha that’s the brand they had in res. (Completely unaffected). Then went home and had a panic attack about it (????)
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allthegothihopgirls · 3 months
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i wish my cat was stupid so badly
in the middle of the night he'll meow at my door until i let him out of my room. which i don't, because he wants to come back in 5 minutes later, and WILL repeat the cycle. but he knows whatever the time is, if he uses his litterbox, i will get up to clean it. so he's started sitting in the box, pretending to use it so i get up, then run out of it to sit at the door. and he thinks that because i'm already up, i'll let him out. (he's wrong)
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chososlilprincess · 5 months
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okay last LAST part of Virgin!Choso…part 4<3 (i will probably do scenarios w Choso as a virgin in the future tho but this is the end of this lil series) other parts here: part 1. part 2. part 3.
alright….rly hope u guys like it!!<33
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Virgin Choso, who wakes up in the morning, blinking his eyes, trying to get used to the sunlight coming in through the blinds.
You’re laying on his chest, your arms hugging him close, breathing softly. You’d fallen asleep quickly last night, fucked out from him eating you out. He smiles at the memory of you kissing him, and how you’d said yes to being his perfect little girlfriend. He starts rubbing your back, kissing your forehead softly before moving you, he’d needed to go to the bathroom for 30 minutes now, holding it in because he didnt want to wake you, he wanted to stay with you on his chest forever.
When he leaves his bathroom he stands in his boxers and a white t-shirt outside of his bedroom, he needs a cigarette, and he wants to let his princess sleep.
He goes to his balcony and pulls out a cig from the pack, putting it between his lips and lighting it. He’s really happy he realizes, and his heart is at ease, even though it’s still burning up from how much he loves the girl sleeping in his bed.
A minute later he hears the door to his bedroom open, and the pats of your feet on the floor, walking to him. You wrap your arms around his middle, nuzzling your face into his back.
Fuck. calm yourself Choso.
“come back to bed please,” you tell him in a small voice, hugging him closer.
His heart clenches, “of course,” he says, he could never deny you anything, And he takes your hand as you lead him back to his bed.
“Wanna show you how much i like you,” you say as you place urself in his lap, straddling him on his bed. You feel him twitching in his boxers. And when he looks at you again, his eyes are full of desperation.
“been wanting you,” he breathes out “so much and i…” he pulls you closer by your waist, wrapping his arms around you. “i touched myself…every night, thinking about your pretty face and…” he’s embarrassed to admit it and his cheeks flush.
“it’s okay…i did it too choso..” you say softly and caress his cheek.
you touched yourself thinking about him. fuck that did it for him.
“wanna be inside you…please i,” he buries his face in your neck, bucking his hips and you feel how hard he is. You’re driving him insane, sitting on his lap so pretty, with only your top and panties on. He wants to show you he’s yours, he wants you to tell him youre his.
“shhh i want you too…” you tell him and he nods,
You kiss him then, giving him little pecks around his mouth. And when you put your hand on his cock, he whines and grinds himself into you.
“wanna touch it…can i?” you say innocently and trace a finger up his cock, all the way to the tip. He whimpers, “please,” and rubs his head on your cheek.
As soon as you get his consent you put your hand down his boxers, pulling out his dick. Its so pretty. Long and thick, the tip leaking and red. And you eye the happy trail from his groin all the way to his belly button.
“look…my hand almost doesn’t fit around it…so big…” you say fascinated, studying his dick. He groans deeply, holding onto your waist. “baby i…” he’ll cum if you say shit like that, while looking so perfect on top of him.
You stroke him once slowly and he kisses you again, groaning into your mouth. it feels so good, so much better than when he’s doing it himself. He bucks up into your hand, fucking himself into it. He’s panting softly, and when you pull away his eyes are half lidded, he looks fucked out already.
“cant wait anymore please fuck,” he almost looks like hes gonna cry, looking down at your hand stroking him, “let me be inside you princess please,” he begs.
You take your hand away from his dick, and he sobs at the lack of contact. “tell me,” you say, and he knows what you mean.
“loved you ever since you smiled at me for the first time, i think about you…f-fuck i think about you all the time,” his face turns into one full of affection, “ive never done this before,” He says, and doesnt tell you that not only is he a Virgin, but he also had no clue about sex before Yuji told him. Back then something in his human heart wanted you so bad, and now all of him does.
“ive never felt this before,” he sniffles, “fuck please princess i can’t take it anymore,” he’s shaking now, trembling from his desire.
“shhh…take your clothes off,” you tell him and he obeys you, pulling off his t-shirt to reveal his toned chest, his body full of scars. He pulls off his boxers and you pull off your panties.
“lay down,”
He gets on the bed, And you admire him for a moment. He’s completely naked, big chest and strong arms on full display. His hard cock leaking and stiff on his stomach.
When you get on top of him he mewls in anticipation. You put your hands on his chest, placing your pussy on his length.
He grabs your thighs tightly as he groans. Youre so wet, all for him. It makes his heart swell with pride.
You grab him and place him to your wet hole, putting his tip inside. And hes so big, your little pussy struggling to take even just his tip. You whine out and he stops you before you can sink down on him more. hes breathing heavily, cheeks a light pink, “dont wanna hurt you…” he breathes out.
“i…i can take it, just…give me a minute,” you say and bite your lip tightly. And youre so fucking adorable, how youre struggling to take his big cock, but you want to make him happy so bad, wanna have him inside you so bad.
When you finally sink down fully on him, you both moan in unison. And Choso groans at the way he can see himself poking through your tummy.
You look at him, silently asking for permission to keep going, he nods eagerly. You lift your hips and start fucking yourself on him slowly, letting out the prettiest sounds hes ever heard, It feels so fucking good. Your cunt is so wet and warm. He loves this, he loves you. He whimpers and cries while you bounce on him, moving his hands to your waist.
“you’re so handsome Choso,” you say it softly to him, clenching down on his length. You think hes handsome.
Choso looses his mind.
“fuck baby i’m sorry,” He grabs your hips and flip you over so that you’re laying on your back underneath him, he slides into you again, “need to…fuck i need you,” he whines and he ruts into you fast and desperate.
You’re moaning so pretty now. he keeps going.
“mine…mine mine mine mine,” he breathes.
You look up at him with your pretty big eyes, letting out the cutest sound hes ever heard. And with that he reaches his high.
“fuck i love you i love you i love you,” he repeats it over and over as he fills you up with his hot cum, trembling and crying from how good he feels, while you cum around him too from the feeling of him finishing inside you.
He passes out on top of you, breathing heavily, careful not to crush you under him. You reach up and stroke his hair, calming him as he comes down from his high. He nuzzles his cheek into you, kissing you softly as he pulls out of you with a whimper.
He lays down next to you and cradle you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.
“i love being your boyfriend,” he says,
and you laugh, your body vibrating against him.
he looks at you with a smile, “what? whats funny?”
you stop to look at him again, “nothing,” you crawl on top of him then, laying flat on his chest, folding your arms and putting your head on your hands.
“fuck youre pretty,” he breathes, and you kiss him softly.
“And youre handsome…or maybe i shouldnt say that because you might go beast mode again,” you grin at him,
“shut up…” he mumbles, and you laugh even harder. “its okay…i liked it,” you say,
“say that youre mine,” you look at him and his face is serious,
“im yours Choso…”
You both fall asleep to the sound of eachothers heartbeat.
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YIPPIEEE!! yeah i made reader say he went “beast mode” sue me. i was giggling bru😭😭 (she said it ironically dont worry)
taglist:
@adanfore @the1exiled @tojicvmslut @natriae @mynahx3 @arabellatreaty @himboelover @saturnlus-stuff @sircatchungus @ladygunheild @peregrine-nation @otomebebe @kyouenredxviolet @dellalyra @bloombb @mimiemie @sodoney
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diejager · 5 months
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Omfg pervy roommate König!!! And his poor little roommate is none the wiser to how he abuses her poor cunt every night. He does such a good job fucking his load into her that she confides in him as a friend that she’s pregnant and is super shocked!! But that’s okay, he’ll always be there for her. Now she’ll never be able to leave him. <3
Cw: forced pregnancy, NON-CON/CUB-CON, DARKFIC, pervy!önig, perverted behaviour, somnophilia, dacryphilia, breeding kink, possessive behaviour, pregnancy, drugging, tell me if I missed any.
You’re blissfully unaware of his advances, or his nightly excursions into, pumping his cum into your already filled womb and putting a baby into you. He liked how disoriented and confused you look the day after, waking up pantieless, your bedsheets crusty and dried cum sticking to your thighs. You always come to him for advice, wanting to know why you came all over yourself, leaving you covered in your own slick and cheeks burning with shame when you told him, oblivious of his gleeful eyes narrowed down at you with a hidden grin.
It goes on for a while, he feeds sleeping pills - the ones from his prescribed-bottle for his insomnia - breaking half a pill down to a fine powder and spike your bedtime drink, waiting for you to doze off, sleeping so deeply that even an earthquake wouldn’t wake you up, and he fucks you. He, sometimes, takes his time, thrusting slowly, enjoying the slow and romantic pace, feeling you wrapped around him. Other times, he goes feral, pounding and bruising you, hands manhandling you into the prettiest position to let him fuck you deeper, the head of his red, angry cock kissing your cervix brutally.
You don’t take pills or any contraceptives, letting your monthly cycle roll over and deal with the cramps with painkillers. So he’s not surprised when you come crying to him about being pregnant after going to see your doctor about your daily nausea and stomach pains. He expected you to be pregnant after so many nights of filling you up, pushing load after load of fertile cum - he takes supplements to make him more virile - into your young womb, what he didn’t put into account was the long time it took to finally knock you up, the months he spent waiting and biting the skin off his thumb until it bled to have you round and plump with his child.
You had the prettiest face when you cried, eyes puffy and lips pouty, it made his cock stir, throbbing in his pants. It drove him wild, seeing you cry and whine about not being ready to be a mother, still so young and oblivious to who the father was —you didn’t even remember the last time you fucked anyone. König spent the day comforting you, wiping your swollen eyes with high-quality cashmere tissues he bought just for you, whispering sweet lullabies to you until your tears stop - much to his chagrin - and cradled you in his lap, fingers thumbing the soft fat of your thighs, running soothing circles with his calloused thumb.
He’ll wait until the baby’s born to tell you he’s the father, he might not be patient enough to sit around and wait, but he is patient enough to know when he should and when he shouldn’t wait. He’ll care of you until you come to term. He has the money to buy you whatever you need, KorTac is the best paying PMC and he was a colonel in the past, racking up a large sum of money before he signed a contract. Your cravings, your needs, your wants and whatever else you ask, your roommate - your soon-to-be-husband - König will take care of everything.
What a nice roommate you have, no?
Taglist: @hiraya1802 @tess0288 @elichisstuff @emodanoriddler @kenz-ee @bunnyclaire @akenosimp167 @havoc973 @death8match @yourliebling @allicsirp00 @cross-axis @hereforhotbitches @delulu4ghost @monster-in-paradise @nordicvsp @madi0987 @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @223princess @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday
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joelscurls · 5 months
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best kept secret
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pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 6.7k
summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3
Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.
It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it,  never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.
You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.
He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.
“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”
They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core. 
Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can. 
Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.
Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.
But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.
Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.
“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.
With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.  
He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.
You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.
Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel. 
For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more. 
It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has. 
That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.
He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.
But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.
“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine. 
“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.” 
Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”
The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.
Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.
“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.
“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”
He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.
“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.” 
You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.
“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.
“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”
Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do. 
“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it. 
You slink home just as the street lights dim.
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The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.
You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.
You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.
The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.
By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you. 
Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.
God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.
“Hey.”
“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.
“Something on your mind?”
Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.
“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”
He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”
It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.
You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.
The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-
-there’s a knock at the door.
Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?
And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.
“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”
You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.
Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.
The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.
He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length. 
No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.
You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay. 
Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.
His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.
“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”
He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?
“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.
“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.” 
His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.
And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket. 
You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.
Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink. 
Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.
Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”
Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale. 
“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers. 
There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week. 
This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.
But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context. 
You shake your head, no. 
“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”
“When I was ten?” you retort. 
“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”
You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”
“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.
“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.  
“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.
“Well, you gotta get back out there!” 
Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”
You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch. 
I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.
Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.
Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.
“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”
“Will you just give her a chance?”
“Jesus; fine.”
The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.
Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.
He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through. 
“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket. 
“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”
Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 
He’s actually agreeing to this?
You need to get out of here before you say something rash.
The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder. 
Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.
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The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late. 
The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.
It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.
The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.
Maybe he’d be happier with Deb. 
They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street  hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.
Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.
The day passes infuriatingly slow.
The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.
“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.
“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”
“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”
“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.
You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.
He picks up after two rings.
“Darlin’ — are you okay?”
It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.
But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.
“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest. 
“Why didn’t you say no?” 
“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”
He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”
“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“
You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.
“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”
Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.
It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.
Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor. 
“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”
He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.
The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.
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You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.
There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.
Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.
He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.
So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.
But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin. 
It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.
On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.
“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”
You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.
“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway. 
“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”
“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.
“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“
“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”
It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.
Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.
Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern. 
Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all. 
Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait. 
You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.
This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.
You jot the address down anyway.
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Downtown Austin is buzzing with life. 
Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand. 
At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved. 
That’s not what you’re doing, of course.
No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.
It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up. 
You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?
You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.
From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.
Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.
And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.
Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.
But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb. 
She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.
She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.
You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.
But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers. 
He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday. 
Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer. 
She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.
You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.
And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.
He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.
Fuck.
He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.
With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side. 
He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down. 
The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.
“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.
You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?
When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.
“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.
“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”
“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”
This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.
“It wasn’t like that,” he grits
“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”
There’s a beat. Joel sighs. 
“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”
His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.
“I know,” you admit.
He nods. Another beat.
“Did you kiss her?” you ask.
“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now. 
Your mouth goes dry.
“No?”
“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t want to.”
“You don’t want her?” 
“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.” 
“Why not?” 
He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.
“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?” 
The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.
“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”
Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.
It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.
Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat. 
And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw. 
Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.
“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep. 
He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths. 
“Need you — please.”
He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs. 
Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.
“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.
Your breath catches. 
You know what he’s really asking: are you going to  let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?
But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.
You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”
Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.
“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.” 
He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.
He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.
You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”
His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist. 
You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.
“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.
“Gotta move baby — please move.”
He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.
Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.
Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life. 
It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.
One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop. 
Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.
“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“
“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”
His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.
His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.
“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”
He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.
You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.
You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.
Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.
“Joel,” you say.
He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.
“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.
“Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.
“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”
And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”
“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”
You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.
You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.
Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel. 
You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.
“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”
He looks at you like you have two heads.
He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.
Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.
“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”
Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.
“I’m yours?”
He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning. 
It all feels somehow sweeter, now.
“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”
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end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.
Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)
tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673
5K notes · View notes
xo-cod · 6 months
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this wasn't supposed to be a poly thing but here we are lmfaoo, nsfw version <3 rushed/ooc/the usual. i'm not that happy w this, could've more nsfw but 🥴
cw: p in v, cockwarming, eating out, unprotected sex, a bit of everything 😭 18+/mdni!
sfw version
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POSSESSIVENESS!!!!
oh my god, they are all so possessive
if you've spent too long with one of them, the other immediately scenting you in their musk
"you smell much better now" he finally grumbles having finished removing the scent from the other man and he can finally take you in his arms
high libidos, i mean they're big burly men 🤭 it's both a blessing and a curse </3
price is a passionate lover. you've got him hooked on your taste and he damn well sure explore every nook and cranny you've to offer. he will learn your body like the back of his hand, knowing what parts usually respond to and what gets you turned on. how to touch you, how to caress you, this is all his forte
ghost is an intense lover, especially when he's been away from you. instantly marking you and devouring you the second he gets his hands on you. really hands on with you, his tactical gloves thrown behind his back and his mask rolled up over his nose before he's kissing you like a starved man
gaz is a doting lover, he's all about the small moments :") kissing you when the head of his cock rubs against your slit, holding your hand when his thrusts get deeper and longer, whispering the most prettiest words when you're whimpering against him :((
soap is a fun lover. sex isn't serious with him unless he's been away and couldn't have you. he likes all the sounds you make and he encourages you to make them, he loves seeing your pretty smile as he makes you feel good. wants to try different positions but heavily enjoys the ones that have you as close to him as possible
price and ghost are definitely the type to make it their personal mission to get you to moan louder when you've spent the night with another man, being forced to hear your pretty whimpers and losing it completely when they hear you cum
won't burst into the room but will bide his time until the night where he'll do everything and anything to get you a moaning mess
"does he fuck you like this? tell me princess, is he better than me?" you'll hear some taunts during the peak of your orgasms and depending on the mood, he might just even withhold your orgasm 😗
soap and ghost really like cockwarming afterwards, purely to feel close with you after a particularly hard day <3
something about feel you so close to his body, your warm cunt gently squeezing around him as he lays on your chest brings him the most joy <3
price and gaz hold you in their huge arms and whisper sweet words as you both nod off to sleep, his touch lingering against your skin as he drifts off
fivesomes when you're bored lmfaoo 😵‍💫🫣😮‍💨
price situates himself in the back, ghost in your cunt, soap in your mouth and gaz in your hand.
your body is sandwiched between the thick warm bodies of price and ghost, both of them kissing and pawing at your skin to feel more
price taking control over your hips, gently rolling against it so not to overwhelm you, "taking us so well pretty, eh?"
"look at 'er, such a good love" ghost chuckled softly, pressing down on the bulge he's created in your stomach causing both of you to groan.
soap's cock in your mouth, his hand caressing the bulge he's making in your neck as he eases himself more, "that's it, bonnie. such a good fuckin girl"
gaz cooing at how much of a good girl you are while you stroke him, his lips peppering soft kisses on your neck no doubt leaving behind marks in their wake, "so beautiful like this, sweetheart"
will 100% buy you an anklet with all their initials on it
will go absolutely feral over you when one of them needs you and another wants you
testosterone levels hitting the roof, a fight will break out if they're ansty enough. will not share, he needs you for himself ‼️‼️
they are obsessed with your cunt
there has been times when you've been incredibly overstimulated from pleasure and how much they've latched on to your clit, his face buried as deep as possible while he licks and sucks
soap and ghost could honestly spend hours lapping at your clit, spreading your walls to get in deeper. using their fingers to stimulate the bundle of nerves hidden inside, enjoying how responsive you are
you'll usually have to push their faces away, their eyes blown and their bottom half of their face covered with your slick
gaz loves to suck your nipples, his mouth latched on to your chest while his tongue rolls over the sensitive bud over and over. releasing with a pop and a string of saliva before he gives the same attention to the other, his hands pressing into your back to bring you closer <33
price loves marking you anywhere he can get his lips on. loves sucking your skin and the taste, pressing a tender kiss afterwards.
they love fidgeting with you!! :")
ghost would have you in his lap, his cock buried deep inside your cunt as he goes over his work. his hips occasionally rolling up a little to give you some friction while he works away, his hand snaking down to gently rub circles on your aching clit while he presses sweet kiss to your shoulder blade, soft promises that he'll be done in a half hour or so
price would have you on his lap, one hand in your panties while the other works on his paperwork. his fingers toying and teasing your clit, running down to press his middle finger inside up at the first knuckle before going back up to tap at your clit again. loves making your folds all puffy and sensitive :(
soap having you under his desk all cosied up as you suck him underneath, licking lazy strokes over the head of his cock. lapping up at his precum, gagging softly when you push your head down until your nose touched the soft tuft of hair at the base of his cock. his legs wrapped around your body, holding you steady cooing softly at how good you are <3
gaz touching and caressing your body while he has to finish a task price set up for him. absentmindedly stroking your your thighs and hips until they reach between your legs, his fingers gently stroking against your eager cunt. not enough to actually get you off but enough for the tiniest bit of pressure, lazily separating your walls and fingering you with his middle and ring finger as he works <3
they all 100% have breeding kinks and together?? 😵‍💫😵‍💫
"wanna put my baby in you, you'd look so fuckin beautiful" ghost panted, watching him cum drip out of your hole fucking it right back in. making sure not a drop is wasted
"one kid might not hurt, what do you say gorgeous, hm?" price's breath was shuttered as he leans on his forearms, his eyes sparkling with desire and passion. the king of breeding, he'll continue to thrust his cum into you until your stomach bulges a little from how stuffed you are
"so so beautiful" gaz hummed, hiking your legs higher on his shoulder while his hand gently pressed down against your stomach, your whimpers music to his ears as his balls tightened. sending him over the edge as he thrusted his cum deep inside your womb
"you'd look so fuckin beautiful pregnant with my kids, wouldn't you bonnie?" his groans are echoing with your moans, with every powerful drive of his hips you can feel your control slip further away. he's so feral, not giving you a chance to even speak before he holds you close and his cock filling you up with his seed. overfilled and you can feel it rush out, dripping down between your bodies
heaven forbid another recruit even hands you a compliment, their ears will have picked it up no matter where they are
and the tension levels in that room will have risen to the skies
silent death stares, stiff postures, the poor recruits looking around wondering why his superiors are suddenly giving him the meanest death glares known to mankind and why ghost looks like the grim reaper
you'll spend the evening with all four of them, not moving a single inch unless you absolutely have to
price and ghost get jealous when you have toys, why would you need them when you can use him??
soap and gaz like the toys to bring you orgasm after orgasm, watching you break apart in his arms from the pure pleasure
threesome with price and ghost is very intense. both men are the top dogs, trying to beat the other and competing with each other. it usually ends with several orgasms from uou before either one of them has cum
gaz and soap are devious, finding different ways to stimulate your body and new ways to pleasure you. gaz kissing you, his tongue working your mouth while soap's mouth has latched on to your wet cunt, nuzzling and lapping while he holds you down with his hands
soft sex!!! all of them crave it :") <33
they're not all rough and tumble all the time
price and gaz love having soft sex in the early morning, not only to get his day started right but the morning is so peaceful with the birds singing and the sun barely peeking over the horizon
soap and ghost are more night time enjoyers, the peace and quiet of the darkness and the silence that comes with it. he just wants to be fully immersed with you, not a single thing on his mind
"how's that feeling, beautiful?" price murmured out, brushing away the strands of your hair as he pushed inside you again. he can feel his shoulders slump against yours tiredly, you always manage to make him feel so safe his guard is almost always down when it comes to you. you look so beautiful underneath him, he can't help but stroke your skin pulling you in closer so that he's snuggling right on you <3
"feel so good around me lovie, so good f'me" ghost whispered in to your ear as he caged you between his huge arms, putting you in a mating press as he angles his cock in deeper to your sopping cunt. drawing soft mewls from your lips which he drinks up eagerly with his own lips. he lives for the soft moments, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist while his lips kiss yours, never wanting to leave the safe haven he's found between your arms <3
"squeezin me so tight, baby" soap's breath was hitched as he gently bottomed out, his lips finding yours as he presses tender kisses. his life can become so hectic and chaotic, he really does cherish every single second he can with you and he loves how close he can be to your body. and for him, it's not even about the sex. he just wants to bury himself as much as he can in you <3
"that's my girl" gaz nuzzled into your neck, his hips rolling lazily against yours while he cradles you close to his chest. a soft groan leaves his lips when he feels the pressure around his cock, his head still hazy from sleep and pleasure. bringing you closer as his face rests in the crook of your neck, just able to be kyle instead of a soldier <3
aftercare is a must for all of them, no matter how intense the sex was.
each of them have their preferred way but they all bundle you up close to them, holding you tightly to their chest as their heartbeat provides a steady rhythm in your ears
gentle tender kisses pressed on your forehead, your back gently stroked as their voices offer you water and a snack
depending on each of them, you'll either find yourself being cleaned very softly with a towel thoroughly before he holds you close as you settle to bed
or you're being carried in his arms for a shower, him mostly taking care of everything for you <33
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chrisevansonly · 2 months
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The Morning Count
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lando norris x female reader
summary: every morning like clockwork you count the freckles that adorn your boyfriends skin, only this time he catches you in the act.
warnings: none, just fluff
a/n: i got inspired from the pic above in today’s quadrant video, and i needed fluff after my last fic failed lol so enjoy <3
The sun was just coming up over Monaco, soft rays filling the room and a still very tired Lando sleeping softly beside you. It wasn’t even 7:15 in the morning yet but you were usually an early riser, the opposite of your boyfriend. The one good thing about being the first up is it gave you time to count all the freckles that adorned his tan skin.
Honestly it was something you’d started to do when Lando first stayed over at your house, and you carried on the little routine even after you’d both moved in together. As you faced him, you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, your fingers skating across his skin gently. Moving from freckle to freckle, counting in your head.
“What are you doing?”
Pausing you looked up to see an amused smile on Lando’s face, his eyes slightly open as he looked at you
“I’m counting…” you replied softly
“Counting huh?”
“Is it annoying?”
He shook his head, letting out a yawn
“No, not at all…i’ve finally managed to catch you though”
“Catch me doing what?” you knew what he was going to say, but you needed to hear it
“Counting my freckles…you’ve done it since the first night i slept over”
Hearing this your eyes widened slightly, not knowing he’d been aware of your little tradition for that long.
“You’ve known this whole time?”
“Mhm just never caught you till now baby”
Lando took your hands gently and brought them up to his mouth to kiss them gently before pulling you in close and leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Even if it was earlier than he liked, he’d never turn down the chance to keep you close and have you in his arms for a little extra before he’d leave for training.
“Well I’m not gonna stop…even if you caught me”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way”
Smiling up at Lando you kissed him once more before settling down on his chest and letting his arms tighten around you. The room fell quiet, only the sounds of the city slowly waking up could be heard, that and now the sounds of Lando’s snores as he’d fallen back to sleep.
Even at the earliest of hours it didn’t take much for him to go back to sleep…in fact the soft touch of your fingertips trialing between his freckles, usually did the trick.
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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months
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no more mister shy guy.
OP x fem!reader
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in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you
i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3
songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff
2.8k words
you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.
oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.
he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.
oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.
it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.
but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.
“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.
“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.
oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.
you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.
“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.
“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.
panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.
“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”
“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”
“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.
you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.
your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.
“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.
“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”
oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.
he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.
“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”
the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.
“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.
“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.
painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.
he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.
“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.
you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.
you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.
you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.
his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.
“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.
he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.
“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.
“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.
“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.
oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.
“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.
“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.
“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.
his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.
“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.
oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.
“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.
“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.
“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.
“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.
oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.
“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.
“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.
“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.
the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.
“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.
“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.
he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.
thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.
“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.
you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.
“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.
“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.
“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.
“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.
“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.
“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”
“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.
“there he is.” you sigh happily.
when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.
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whoops? lol
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
Eeek I love your writing it makes me so 🫶🫶🫶 Can I make a request?
If you do angst to comfort, can you make reader waiting for Alastor to come back (they're married) for seven years? Reader's friends has been pushing them to have a new lover—introducing them to new demons or overlords that the reader might like, but the reader only loves one; which is Alastor. Until Vox made the news that he was back, for months, without looking for the reader. Which makes the reader think Alastor doesn't love them anymore and tries to not be in his attention whenever they meet and pretends to not know him. What will Alastor do? :3 Thank yous!!!
Oh man...that ANGST!!!
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Reader is sad, Suggestive
Description: ☝️⬆️
When Alastor first dissappears, you assume he's just busy and will be back by the end of the day
And then you wake up alone...so maybe he'll be back tomorrow. Tomorrow turns into a week, a week turns into a month...
He's just gone, suddenly ripped away from you without warning and you didn't even get a proper goodbye
So you search for him, you ask everyone if they've seen him or heard about his whereabouts
You even ask Vox if he managed to kill your husband, knowing the TV head wouldn't be able to resist bragging about it
Instead, he looks surprised and uncomfortable with your obvious distress, muttering something about keeping an eye out for you
Rosie is worried too and offers her help but turns up nothing, she does her best to keep an eye on you
You never give up on finding him, knowing that he's alive out there
After the first three years your friends start trying to get you to move on, setting you up with available bachelors
Valentino has offered to help you get over your husband multiple times because he's just such a good guy
You don't give any of them a chance, you had already found the one man you wanted to be with for eternity and married him
He's just not here at the moment
The pain in your heart is just as strong as when you first realized Alastor was missing, crying yourself to sleep nearly every night
The only time you get to see him now is in your dreams, clutching one of his jackets with his scent still on it
You just feel so abandoned...
After the sixth year, your friends try to get you to move or throw out some of Alastor's things but you can't bring yourself to do it
He's going to come back to you, you know it, so you keep your wedding ring on and still present yourself as a married woman
Rosie makes sure you take care of yourself on the days when your sadness swallows you whole
"Wipe away those tears now, have you eaten today? No? I have just the thing for you.."
Seven years go by and nothing has changed for you
You're sad and miserable, running errands when you suddenly pass by an electronics store, seeing Vox on the TV
That's nothing new to you, you almost turn away and keep walking until you hear Vox say something about Alastor
You're suddenly frozen, listening to Vox bitch about Alastor's multiple offenses during these last few months
He's been back...for months..? And hasn't come to see his wife?
You're blinking away hot tears, the air in your lungs going sour and your stomach doing flips
Did Alastor really abandon you like that? You need to go see the one person who you know has been digging into Alastor for as long as you have
Vox literally screams like a child when you're suddenly bursting into his office and grabbing him by his suit
"How long has my FUCKING HUSBAND BEEN BACK!? And why didn't you tell me, Vox!? WHY!?"
"FUCK! Who let you in here!?"
"VOX!" You're shaking him now, making his screen glitch out
"A-at least a couple of months for sure! He's doing something with Lucifer's daughter and a hotel or some shit! I thought you would've been the first to know he was back!"
Vox is relieved when you finally let go of him, fixing his suit before suddenly giving you a cruel grin
"Wait wait wait-don't tell me-he hasn't come to see you this whole time!? You wait all these years for him and he's shacking up with Lucifer's daughter, a porn star and who knows who else!?"
He suddenly stops laughing when you slam his screen into his desk, storming out afterward so he doesn't see the angry tears in your eyes
"Don't get mad at me because he started a new life without you!"
Vox knew exactly which ugly worries to pull out of your head and you let him get to you
But you knew he was right, looking at all the evidence presented to you...it does look like Alastor is starting over
A small part of you is telling you that he's replaced you somehow but you have enough pride to doubt it
But that self pity comes back to bite you that same night, crying harder than you ever have before
By the end of the week, you've convinced yourself that he doesn't love you anymore, that he got bored of you
You still haven't taken off your wedding ring yet
Imagine your surprise when on your way home you bump into Charlie Morningstar, the princess of hell herself
She somehow managed to crash into you and knock down everything you were carrying, making you sigh and bend down to pick it up
"Oh my gosh, I'M SO SORRY!!" 🥺
You mumble something forgiving back to her, still picking up your things when you hear a familiar voice that makes your heart ache
"Charlie, my dear! What sort of mischief have you gotten int-Y/N?"
You're still as beautiful as Alastor remembers, if not even more so
You can hear the surprise in his voice, along with notes of panic and guilt
You just ignore him, gathering the rest of your things before walking in the opposite direction of them, you don't dare look at Alastor
You know you would break down if you did
He doesn't follow you, nor does he follow you the next time you run into him, or the time after that
It hurts you a little more each time, wanting to know if your husband ever loved you at this point
He doesn't know what boundaries to push with you anymore, he just misses you like crazy
Alastor knows he has to do something-
He tries cornering you the next time he sees you, standing in your way
"Y/N, please just let me explain-"
"I don't know who you're talking about, I'm not who you think I am."
He grabs your wrist, eyeing your wedding band with a frustrated expression
"You're wearing our wedding ring..."
"This is the ring my husband gave to me, and I haven't seen him in years."
You rip away your arm and walk away from him, crying to yourself over how much it hurts
You don't see how his ears lay low, and how he watches you with a regretful expression
He wishes he could just tell you everything, wants to run after you and hold you
But his deal doesn't allow it, he wanted to go straight to you when he got back-never wanted to leave you in the first place
But he was also too ashamed to face you, scared to find that you moved on or that you no longer loved him
He hates that he's hurting his wife like this and it sours his mood for weeks afterwards
Charlie and Vaggie start to understand that Alastor's sudden angry attitude always happens whenever he sees you
But they don't know who you are and they're way too afraid to ask Alastor because he's still digging his claws into everything out of anger
Niffty is actually the one who tells them that you're his wife but Husk explains to them that you're probably pissed at him for disappearing
Charlie is crying at the thought of Alastor and his wife being separated, Vaggie having to comfort her
So the two women get to work on finding you themselves, showing up on your doorstep one day and inviting you to the hotel
It takes a lot of coaxing and convincing from them to finally get you to go with them
You're a bit surprised to hear that Alastor is helping with a hotel centered around the idea of redemption
But you figure he's got some sort of angle, he always does
Alastor isn't there when you three arrive, Charlie having talked your ear off about everything Alastor has been doing to help
Which is unlike him, you're immediately suspicious
But you recognize Husk and Niffty, the little woman running to you and crawling all over you in excitement
"Y/N! Y/N! You're here! Are you gonna stay? Is your house messy? Do you have roaches for me to kill~?"
"Hey Y/N, you look like you need a drink.."
You almost start crying then and there, not having realized how much you missed them too, hugging Niffty tight as you take a seat at the bar
It almost feels like old times, the three of you talking late into the night until it's just you and Husker...
He takes a shot and seems to be preparing himself for something, uncomfortable suddenly
"Y/N...there's something I gotta tell you...about your husband..."
You're expecting to hear the worst, to hear that Alastor cheated, to hear that he's seeing someone new
But what Husk tells you is far FAR from that...you don't know whether to be thankful or horrified
Your husband's soul...owned by someone else? Just what did that man get himself into?
You don't even realize you're crying until Husk is awkwardly hugging you, patting your back gently as you cling to him
At some point, you must've fallen asleep because you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, your face buried in Alastor's neck
You almost relax and fall back asleep before your eyes suddenly pop open, jolting up and shoving him away
Even with what Husk told you, you're still mad at him, he never came back to see you
Alastor wakes up fast enough to realize he's falling off the bed, climbing back up with downward facing ears
"We need to talk, darling.."
"What is there to talk about? You don't want a wife anymore, is that it? Is that why you never came to see me?"
He looks so guilty and upset, his smile tense as he looks away, you have to resist the urge to rub his ears
You flinch away at first when he takes your hands before reluctantly letting him hold them, missing him too much to fight it
"I was too ashamed to face you...there's so much I can't tell you and I was...scared that you would be with someone new."
"Do you have any idea how much pain I was in? Alastor, it nearly broke me.."
He has tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, looking away to try and save face as he pulls you in for a tight hug
"Just please...forgive me and let me be your husband again. I'll do everything I can to fix this..."
It doesn't make up for all the pain you felt for seven years but it's definitely a start
You've missed him too much to continue being angry with him, so you just cling to him and cry
You cry until you both fall asleep again, eventually waking up tangled in each other's arms
He's kissing all over your face, ghosting his lips over your eyes, your nose, your forehead, eventually getting to your lips
You suddenly feel so full of emotion, like you could burst with happiness at finally having Alastor again
You had nearly given up hope that you would feel him, taste his lips, or smell his raw scent ever again
You dig your nails into him when he tries to pull away, forcing him to kiss you longer as his hands bruise your hips
You both are panting by the time you pull away, bodies pressed as close as possible out of a need for contact
His voice comes out like static, leaning in for another kiss as gazes at you with loving eyes
"I have missed you...so much..."
You could cry if it weren't for the fact that you were sick of crying, instead rolling yourself on top of him and kissing along his jaw
"You better prove it to me."
His pleased growl followed by claws digging into your clothes answered you well enough
You know he still has a lot to make up for but this is a good start
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Sorry this one came out so long!! I hope you like it!!
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softerglow · 10 months
Text
how to create a good night routine
it's important to take time to maintain yourself and prepare for bed every day. often we get caught up with life events and neglect ourselves in the process. this results in a messy sleep schedule and undue stress. each evening is a chance to work at consistency and self care, and we miss out when we rush our night routines.
planning:
figure out how much time you have, realistically. do you eat dinner with your family at a certain time? do you go to the gym with someone in the evenings? what time do you need to be in bed? ideally you would have at least an hour to wind down for bed.
write out a schedule. make sure you have enough time to prep for your night routine, clean up and do your skincare and hair care routines, prepare for the next day and wind down for bed.
make sure you have everything you need. use product that you already have before buying new stuff, but make sure you have the essentials you need to carry out your routine comfortably.
example schedule:
8.00pm - 8.10pm: get everything together, turn off the big lights, choose music for the evening
8.10pm - 8.40pm: shower, moisturize body
8.40pm - 9.10pm: skincare, hair care
9.10pm - 9.30pm: pack bags for the next day, choose outfit
9.30pm - 10.00pm: read, get into bed
a note on adjusting your schedule:
if your schedule doesn't work well, don't force yourself to fit into it. your schedule should work for you and you should change it whenever necessary to make sure it does. it's important to remember that you are the priority here and this is your time to take care of yourself.
~*
hello my loves. this is a follow up post to how to wake up earlier. i believe that having a good day starts the night before. if you have any essential steps in your night routine that i haven't mentioned here, please let me know. wishing love and prosperity to all <3
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