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#that's gonna hit EXACTLY where i need it to in this moment in time for this specific feeling
hella1975 · 8 months
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oooooooooooooh wait. ohhh i know what's happening. canon event *drags myself to the taob doc*
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pastadoughie · 3 months
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many people were confused about some of my previous posts, so for the sake of clarity i am condensing everything! tumblr has extremely transphobic moderation practices, often flagging completely innocent posts as explicit, solely for containing trans women in them or mentioning transgenderism. while letting untagged porn in sfw tags (ive literally seen porn tagged as "sfw agere") and blatent hatespeech, especially twards trans people (just look at the "gender critical" tag) go completely unchecked recently the CEO of tumblr had a big public hissyfit about people (rightfully) calling him transmysogenistic, going into random trans womens dms to harrass them, and saying that predstrogen saying she "hopes he explodes with hammers and then explodes again and hammers fly everywhere" is a death threat and saying he is calling the FBI on her (repeatedly misgendering her and calling her "it") and many bloggers, apon speaking out about it or even making harmless jokes (one trans woman posted a picture of a car and a hammer with the caption "reblog to scare matt" and got nuked for it) and many are very very angry (rightfully) about this whole affair and tumblr in general. if you would like to look into it i reccomend scrolling the "predstrogen" tag as she is the case most people are talking about at the moment. So, what can we do? this is clearly an ongoing issue, and, dispite having lost a lawsuit about their transphobic moderation in the past (see : https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/21274288-tumblr-nycchr-settlement) its clearly not gonna stop with just user complaints, as staff members are perfectly content to just go scorched earth on users who even so much as lightly poke fun at them well if you want to help you should contact the human rights commision (i will give clear details further down) ! you dont have to be in the US, nor be an adult to file, and it only takes a few minutes. this is the best and most effective method to fix this, because it hits tumblr where it hurts. human rights acencies have a lot of legal and financial power and tumblr CAN NOT just ignore them, and given that this will be the seccond time this is happening, the commisions shouldnt be playing nice anymore eaither. its really important that AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE FILE, and with different examples! while maybe your case might not be enough to prop up a lawsuit on its own, we need to prove a general trend. so every little bit counts! to respond to another question abt this ive gotten, as for what exactly to report, you should a) write about an act of discrimination youve recieved on tumblr that was eaither administered by a staff member OR that staff refused to give adequate moderation action in for example : a terf posted some blatent hatespeech targeted twards you, and you reported them, and staff looked at the issue and refused to persecute it. example 2 : you were unfairly flagged, deleted, or otherwise punished by a staff member and you are queer ( AND the post they banned you for has some kind of tie to your gender, ex : a sfw transition progress photo ) OR b) if you have not personally recieved something like that, please look for other peoples stories (THEY SHOULDNT BE HARD TO FIND, within the last couple of hours trans people have been being banned LEFT AND RIGHT for trying to speak on this. i would reccomend checking some of the tags related to what happened with predstrogen) and you should describe that incident as best as possible (be sure to disclose that you are speaking for someone else, ideally you should tell the story of someone you know, if possible.) you can also mention any reports you have made twards people posting blatent hatespeech that, opon reveiwing tumblr refused to prosecute dispite it being very obviously against terms of service. just so nobody gets confused about the filing process, im laying it out in more plain languadge!!
first you should email the SF HRC (san francisco human rights commision), at [email protected] and say something along these lines :
Hello, I am [full name] from [country or state] and I am filing a complaint against Tumblr, witch is owned by the parent company Automattic Inc. located at 60 29th St, San Francisco, CA 94110.
Tumblr has had previous issues with the NYC DHR for their moderation being unfairly biased against trans women (see : https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/21274288-tumblr-nycchr-settlement).
Despite a legally binding agreement with the NYC DHR, staff members still regularly harrass users based on their gender or sexual orientations. For example : on [date of most recent infraction] [describe incident] (if you are describing an incident that did not happen to you specifically, say something like) This incident involves the user [username] who I am not affiliated with (or/) who I am filing on behalf of.
I can be reached for further inquiries about this incident at [email you want to talk over] or [phone number you want to talk over]. (if you would like to be anonymous) However, In the event of legal prosecution against Automattic I would refer to be kept anonymous, where possible, in court proceedings. alternatively, you can also call the SF HRC at : 415-252-2500, you can use the above text as a starting point for this as well, next you want to fill out the form for the NYC DHR (new york city department of human rights) here : https://www.nyc.gov/site/cchr/about/report-discrimination.page for company you wanna put : Automattic and/or Tumblr for address you wanna put : 770 Broadway, New York, NY 10003 for phone number you wanna put : (646) 513-4321 and for category of discrimination you can put : Discriminatory harassment and basis of discrimination you can put : Gender; Gender identity you can then use a similar script on the written section of the form. when describing a specific incident, you should attach as many screenshots and links as possible! (for links, include both a live link and an archival link, so take a capture with the internet archive and have that as an alternative, incase a staff member gets petty.) this should only take a few minutes at most, and it helps alot! you can fill this out if you are a minor, and you dont have to be a us resident, please please take the time!!! and, just to clarify because there are many posts going around that are confused about this tumblr moved offices to san francisco recently, so their main HQ is at : 60 29th St, San Francisco, CA 94110 they DO still have an office in new york city, and thats where their PREVIOUS HQ was, the address is : 770 Broadway, New York, NY 10003
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pathologicalreid · 1 month
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total eclipse of the heart
spencer reid x gn!reader, fluff
w/c: 665
this was written solely because bri asked. this is for you. sorry for not sending you my strands results. re: spencer is a simple man and just wants you to not blind yourself by staring at the eclipse.
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"I am going to zip-tie those glasses to your head if you don’t stop taking them off,” Spencer scolded from where he sat next to you. The two of you were sharing a blanket in Rossi’s backyard, waiting with the rest of the BAU for the eclipse.
Currently, he was standing in front of you, body blocking the rays of the sun from getting to your retinas.
Rolling your eyes, you leaned back on your hands, “That would be a great idea if you had zip-ties with you,” you challenged.
Your boyfriend watched you astutely, making sure your eyes didn’t flicker up to look at the sun. “You are severely underestimating the various items I keep in my bag,” he rebutted, continuing to rattle off the bits and bobs that he kept in his shoulder bag.
Sighing, you inclined your head toward him, “If the sun isn’t totally eclipsed yet, then I don’t know why I shouldn’t be able to look at it.”
“I’ve explained this to you at length over the past week. Even though the sun is partially blocked by the moon, the ultraviolet rays of the sun are still strong enough to do damage to your retinas,” he lectured you, waving from the sun to your face with his hands. “You remember all of this, don’t you?”
You nodded begrudgingly, “The damage done to the retinas is similar to an injury called ‘welder’s burn.’”
Spencer’s face lit up in the recognition that you had in fact been listening to him while he rambled about the solar eclipse. “It’s not painful, but the burn is a result of staring into the sun. The light comes from multiple different wavelengths, and your eyes focus on that powerful light.”
“I don’t like the glasses, they block out everything except for the sun,” you explained, you wanted to be able to see everything. Henry had already fallen victim to the glasses, hitting his head on a table while running around with impaired vision – JJ and Will were inside with him now.
Spencer laid back on the blanket with a huff, “Y/N, I love you, but I am not taking you to the ophthalmologist tomorrow.”
Waggling your brows at your boyfriend, you grinned, “What do I get out of wearing the glasses for the eclipse?”
Naturally, he had his glasses on, and he couldn’t see anything you were doing. “You can see. You could not go blind.”
You flicked your eclipse glasses down onto your nose and joined Spencer in laying back on the picnic blanket. “You make a fair argument, Dr. Reid.”
“It’s not an argument, I’m telling you that you will do irreparable damage to your eyes. This is exactly why we went to the library for the glasses,” Spencer reminded you. The two of you had actually gone to three different libraries for eclipse glasses. Mostly because you had been morally opposed to buying glasses if you could get them for free elsewhere. “This is not a situation where you can argue your side, you either go blind or you don’t.”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you sighed defeatedly, “I won’t go blind.”
Spencer hummed, “Good, that’s the right choice, baby.”
After just a few moments of watching the moon cover the sun, you lifted your glasses to look over at Spencer, who quickly reached out to put the glasses back over your eyes, “no, wait!” You said, seeing Spencer start to dig through his leather bag.
“I told you,” Spencer explained, waving the zip-ties in the air. Why he had zip-ties in his bag, you couldn’t say.
Shaking your head, you quickly put the glasses on, “That time was an accident!” Your voice was insistent as you collapsed into a fit of giggles.
“You two are being too loud!” Emily called from her blanket.
In a surprising turn of events, Spencer pinned you to the blanket just as you whispered, “Who’s gonna tell her it doesn’t need to be quiet for her to watch the eclipse?”
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fillinforlater · 2 months
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Eleven to One: Smart Submission
Male Reader x Kim Minju, Kim Chaewon
Length: 3196 words
Tags: Daddy kink, sensual blowjob, stand and carry, sex against the wall, making out, Breeding kink, Breeding talk, rough sex, hate sex, degradation, cursing riding, cowgirl, doggy, spanking, anal, anal doggy, sex toys, obedient!Minju, obedient?Chaewon
TW: the usual for this series, rough sex, degradation, cursing at idols, extreme Daddy kink
Inspiration: Chaewon's Smart fancams, Minju's Sequence fancams
(A/N: Fuck, it's been a while. I lost a bunch of progress and had to pivot, hope you like this though. More fics coming up, hopefully deep into April. Can't promise anything for May though. It's gonna be a stressful time.)
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“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I need you, Daddy.” Send by Yujin
You put down your phone with a smile of satisfaction and excitement. It’s a rather odd mix of emotions; there should not be satisfaction when the excitement still makes you yearn for something, but at the same time, it's this yearning that makes you feel at ease. 
Yujin is on your phone, countless pictures of her incredible stage outfit which you will have to tear off her body again, not caring about the costs or the annoyed company staff. Yujin is also on the hotel room TV in the form of fancams. You put on a playlist to kill some time before the evening can begin and seeing her look so confident, thrilled and sexy has you bothered and ready.
“Oh, so that’s why I heard Kitsch on repeat.” You turn your head towards the bathroom door of this, for your standards, humble yet cozy hotel room. Minju has just walked out, a cloud of steam still behind her, a rather loose towel around her body as she dries her hair. “Our daeng-daeng is really pretty.”
“That’s true, very true,” you say with a sigh and look back at the TV where Yujin’s charisma jumps at you in the form of a wink. Suddenly, Minju’s hands are at your shoulders, rubbing, going down to your chest and rubbing a bit more.
“Minmin knows what Daddy is thinking.” She did not need to sound that sultry and tempting. A moment where her cuteness and klutziness is gone and Minju becomes a vixen, comparable to Yujin, maybe Eunbi. She learned from watching them, her admiration has let her to now drop the adorable person you so love about her—luckily, she also drops her towel, so you cannot complain about her boldness.
“So what am I thinking about, Minju?” Play hard to get, because that’s exactly what you’re going to teach her: no matter how hot or irresistible she may seem, you can be absolutely out of reach. It is after all always up to you.
“Daddy always thinks about sex.” Minju walks over, kneels on the couch and bends down towards your crotch, never breaking eye contact. A strain of wet hair tucked behind her ear, she whispers. “Daddy is always hard, especially because of Yujinnie~”
“Go check for yourself,” you challenge her and unzip your jeans (been a while since you wore something this leisurely). Minju eagerly gets them down until she expects your hard shaft to spring out and hit her cheek, but to her surprise, you are not hard. 
“Wow, Daddy is this big even now~”
“You want to suck it?” More of an observation than a question as Minju’s lips already approach your tip.
“Can Minmin suck it, kiss it, put it in her mouth?”
“Go ahead, I’ll give you a reward if you get me hard.” She is too cute again. A nod and she is eager to give your cock all the kisses. Of course she starts off with the head, makes sure to run her tongue past her lips and along your slit, then she moves down the underside while resting it on her face. Minju’s dedication to worshiping her favorite cock is unmatched, her hums and moans spread in between all the licks and kisses sound like impure devotion. 
You put a hand in her messy hazelnut strands and gently comb through them. In the background yet another fancam concludes with Yujin oozing all her stage presence and sex appeal into the camera. You turn down the volume to hear Minju’s blowjob better, but the visual distraction stays. Now it’s a Minju fancam, Sequence, legendary. The former idol tilts her head when she notices it while simultaneously taking your inches down her throat. Amazing bliss, you twitch.
“You looked very hot back then, so fucking tight,” you groan. “Unbelievable that you’re even sexier now.”
“It’s all because of Daddy and Yujin—you never stop and I have to keep up. It’s endless training, every day. Maybe this is eternal youth.” She bops her head up and down and you don’t know if she really said those words. Too much wisdom for someone who is back at your balls with her lips while she gags around the stiffening snake. Give her hips a good squeeze to check if it’s still the same Minju—yup, no doubt. 
“Your hips were so wide back then, but I think they have grown more since you moved in.” You give her a congratulatory smack and Minju giggles around your length. She looks divine with one hand on your base and every part of your face magnetically drawn to where she wants to get your baby batter out. Though you never relinquished control, she still has you in a semi-hard state and your mind in the depths of impurity. “Get up.”
“O-okay, Daddy.” Minju does as told and you marvel at her nude body for a second.
“That was brilliant, don’t get me wrong,” you tell her and reach for her curvy, milky, freshly cleaned thighs. “But I want something else wrapped around me.”
As if she can read your mind, Minju jumps up and her arms and legs embrace your upper body. All you need to do is carry her on her petite ass cheeks which fill out your hands nicely. The miniscule weight of hers is easily lifted so you two are face to face. Before your lips connect, you quickly get hold of your dick and press it against her moist folds. Moist is an understatement: Minju is drenched in excitement and takes you easily.
“Oh God,” Minju moans and her eyes disappear for a moment in the back of her head where you know is nothing but the endless feeling of joy your cock brings her. A few thrusts and she will be mindless, the dumb, breedable klutz she so often seems to be. Her legs choke your hips against hers and soon after, you two engage in a kiss that sets you on fire.
Upwards is the way, the hardest way, the best way. Minju is split open time and time again, her whole body enthusiastically shaking on every impact or at the mere prospect of another. Whenever you’re not tongue fucking her mouth, the fucking of her cunt leaves her breathless, whiny, and groaning like a madman. She is mad, crazy for you and with the intoxicating smell of her shampoo, her sweat, her sex, you’re going crazy as well.
“Fuck, Minju, you’re pussy is so warm,” you mumble and stumble forward. You press Minju against the wall next to the TV where you both listen to her verse from Panorama with the sound of loud skin slapping against skin being an obnoxious, yet welcome interruption. Minju’s hands have left your nape and start to crawl up the wall as if she tries to get higher. She wants to crash down harder on your cock, wants you to go rougher, her end is nye. The constant hits against her cervix bring one thought to the forefront—and it is not the potential people on the other side of the wall who are surely enraged.
“One day,” you whisper, leaning into Minju’s ear, covered by ruined hair that she has to wash again tonight. “I’m going to cum inside your pussy without protection.” Minju gasps, almost at her peak. You slam her back hard against the wall, fingers tearing at the skin of her ass. “I will breed you, over and over again, and we will have many beautiful children. Minju, you will be bred, pregnant all the time, so I want you to love this.”
A chaotic thrust up, against every inhibition she might have, past the final strings that hold together her sanity, her reasoning. Minju orgasms with a booming scream and her cunt does everything in its power to suck the fertile batter out of you. The seed you promised, she needs it at this very moment. Only a quick pullout can save you, Minju’s power and will to be bred leaving you stunned. 
She takes deep breaths in your arms as you carry her back to the couch, her eyes sparkle though you cannot make out if it is because of happiness or disappointment. “Why did Daddy pull out? We need to train, Minmin needs to be filled many, many times.”
“Sorry, but not tonight.” You free her forehead of her hair, some of which looks like it exploded all over her face. “I promised someone else my biggest load of today. We have to wait for her though—”
Suddenly, as if you spoke a spell to summon someone, a knock can be heard. 
“Come on in!” you shout, but all you hear is a disgusted shriek. Well, it’s certainly not Yujin nor any of your other usual guests. It’s someone that is on the fringes though, not ready to admit that she is addicted to you. The thrill brings her back, the pleasure will make her stay, but for now it’s this excuse that makes her wait for you to open the door.
“Ugh, you—wait, the fuck, put on some clothes!”
“Why don’t you get rid of yours, Chaewon,” you quickly respond and just as swiftly pull her into the hotel room. Chaewon is wrapped in a basic yet effective outfit to hide her identity. A large black overcoat, sunglasses, a mask, basic sweatpants. With a groan she reveals the excitement that is below them: a stage outfit from her recent comeback stages, along with a surprising lack of pants and most exciting of all: golden blonde hair. 
“Don’t stare at me you perv,” Chaewon barks and folds her arms in front of her chest. You notice her gaze dropping down to your cock again and you wish she would just drop to her knees and clean Minju’s nectar off of you (she would in a heartbeat if you told her about why it’s glistening like that), but you instead walk back over to Minju and lean down to kiss her. “What do you thi—Mi-Minju, you’re here?!”
“Oh, Chaewon-unnie, I’m always with Daddy, don’t you know?”
“B-but you could also stay somewhere else, like, like with your parents or with m-me…”
“Yeah, Minju,” you add cynically, only focused on the loyal girl below you clinging to your lips and your back. You make your way down her cheek, her jaw to her neck. “You could stay in the LE SSERAFIM dorm with Chaewon, so why are you still here?”
“Minmin wants to stay with Daddy! Minmin needs to be ready for when the time is right.”
Chaewon raises an eyebrow as sweat pours down her face. Her thighs are awfully close to one another, rubbing, her core is in heat as she watches Minju melt under your tongue. The ‘fearless’ group leader does not need to ask, because Minju spills the beans when you push her further down into the couch.
“Daddy, I need to be around Daddy when he wants to breed me, make me a pregnant woman, I don’t want to miss it.”
“That’s fucking enough!”
The stinging pain of your hair getting pulled makes you hiss almost triumphantly. Chaewon has been set off again and she drags you away from Minju’s delicious body and positions her own on top of you. A short, half-hearted wrestle later and she sits on your crotch, the panties below her colorful outfit already caressing your tip. One of her hands is still in your hair, the other pushes your chest against the back of the couch. She is livid.
“Oh, so you want to fight for her again.”
“Shut up.”
“You know that you failed miserably the last time, right? There is no reason to believe that you’ve gotten any better at making me—”
“Shut up!”
“You tiny thing, you’re talking big game for so—”
“Shut the fuck up!” Chaewon pulls her panties to the side, you reach for her hips and get a good hold onto them. “I’ll make you shut up, you perverted bastard!”
Chaewon sinks down on your cock and not only do you notice the wetness all over her pussy walls, you also find that she is needy for this cock. A ripple of satisfaction roams her body and in a moment of carelessness, Chaewon tilts her head back. You know that she is just enjoying the feeling and could take advantage of that. Instead, you have another taunt lined up for her.
“Oh no, I can already feel my mouth being sealed. I can barely speak.”
“Soon enough,” Chaewon groans and starts to gyrate her hips. Unlike the first time she challenged you over Minju, Chaewon feels significantly better. Wetness, tightness, texture—you can’t yet pinpoint why or how, but it has definitely improved. However, with Chaewon so cock-drunk and unable to slam herself down, this is a laughable effort. A pathetic little hop here, a loose hand on your neck, undeniable desire to be fucked in her eyes—Chaewon’s body is already admitting it.
“Hm, I love it… wh-when your quiet,” she moans, tries to search the submission in your gaze. A futile effort and you expose her with both hands on her back. “What are you doing?”
“Chaewon, you’re embarrassing. To think this would get me close—” Without warning, you tear her outfit apart. A tilt of your head and Minju helps out and gets Chaewon out of the mess of tatters you leave. Chaewon looks confused, also helpless and when you spank her ass, she knows she has to move to the stage of acceptance fast. “Let me show you how to break someone.”
“Wait, I—” 
She falls apart in your lap. Really, it’s only a few harsh thrusts, and Chaewon hits your chest. She is a ragdoll that can whine and moan but otherwise is only a sextoy you have to move on your own. Both feet firmly on the ground, you push all your energy in those lower muscles to repeat this motion of rough fucking endlessly. Chaewon should feel that your power never runs out, that you can fuck her as hard and as much as you want. 
“You dumb cumdump!” Smack her ass again, then grab her long strands of gold-colored hair. “Your body knows it, your mind might too—now I need your silly mouth to admit it.”
Chaewon moans and her moan reaches a new pitch when you pull apart her asscheeks to pick her up and drop her down on your shaft. She is coating your crotch with her horny juice, drools over your chest, sweats on the hotel room couch. Chaewon is a dirty girl, so you will sully her more; more accurately, you will show her dirtiness to her beloved Minju. 
“Kneel on the couch, slut! Show me your ass.” Little resistance only. You quickly get behind her, adjust her towards Minju and rub your cock against her asshole. “Look at her. Can you even focus your blurry eyes on her?”
“I-I can…”
“Really?” Push your tip against her hole and feel her flinch in your arms. If she’d really want to, she could flee or at least fight back. Needless to say, she does not. “At least resist me, because your ass doesn’t. Just a bit of force—”
“Oh God!”
“—and I’m inside.” 
You grab Chaewon’s tits and treat these soft hills very not-softly. Your thumb and index pinch her nipples, the groping is hard, though nothing compared to the ass fucking she receives. Her anal cavity, which should be incredibly tight, gapes for you easily. 
Apart from groans, screams and the occasional expletive, Chaewon does not speak anymore. She must know that the next thing she says will betray her fundamentals, oh, those silly fundamentals: never giving up, always fighting for Minju, beating you after becoming better. Now, she is another one of your sluts, who bends over for you, spreads her ass for you and produces silly sounds from all her openings.
“The decision is so easy.
“You don’t make it look easy.
“You’re not smart, Chaewon.
“Stop resisting me.
“Say it.”
Suddenly, Chaewon is trapped between you and Minju. She could rest her head on the younger girl’s bosom, but she does not dare to. The thought of failure and losing this battle so decisively leaves her shattered. This state does not last for long however, as she sees how happy Minju’s eyes glisten in the warm light of the hotel room. It’s fine to lose, it’s good to lose.
“I-I’m yours, Daddy.”
“Do you fucking mean it, whore?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m your s-slutty whore.”
“Fantastic. Minju, bring me the bag of those from the bedroom. We need to celebrate that Chaewon is finally honest with herself.”
You move back to your original position with Chaewon on your lap, cock still balls deep in her asshole. She sniffles a bit, hisses when you nibble at her neck and play with all three of her sensitive nubs quickly. A new toy must be checked properly and this is definitely something that you can work with later. Minju returns with the bag and you reach into it. 
“Your ass is already pretty wide, so this should fit.” You pull out a large, shiny butt plug with a diamond that will decorate her sore butt cheeks perfectly. “Make sure to keep yourself spread when I pull out.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
You slowly drag your cock out. Instead of immediately filling her hole, you instead inspect how it gapes wide, then clenches around nothing. Chaewon shivers on your lap. You order Minju to check it out as well, which almost makes Chaewon cry from embarrassment. 
“No need to feel ashamed,” you laugh. “I think Minju likes it as much as I do.”
“It looks very hot, Unnie, I think Daddy can fuck it many times.”
“D-don’t say it like that,” Chaewon faintly whispers. You push the butt plug inside her and feel her breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn’t have to show herself off anymore. The three of you get up from the couch.
“Minju, make sure to securely tie your friends arms, while I get this ready.” This is a see through dildo, almost as big as your cock and still very much dry. To get it well-lubricated for Chaewon’s pussy, you shove it into her mouth and make sure she has to deepthroat it. Chaewon might have dodged you if it weren’t for Minju, who has tied ropes around her wrists and lower arms. Only when tears leave her eyes, you pull the dildo out and place it on the small living room table in front of the couch. 
“Sit down on it, but don’t move. No fucking yourself. This will be your first real punishment.” Before Chaewon can protest (or maybe she opened her mouth to accept it and praise you) you force a ball gag into her mouth and watch her shout inaudible things as her pussy is split open again. 
“Now, you can watch Minju and I make out until the next person—”
A knock on the hotel room door, again. 
“Speak of the devil.”
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cryptotheism · 1 year
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Lilly: Good morning New Babel, you're listening to Screw Loose, your favorite early-morning exo rig and rig maintenance rig show this side of the white river, I'm Lilly.
The Bear: And I'm the Bear, and you- are on the air. What can we help you with?
Caller: Hello! Hi! So, uh, first time caller. My name is Zuri. I run a barley and flesh farm about an hour south of Isin. I'm in the market for a new rig. My last rig kicked the bucket. But I have an, uh, odd request that I was hoping you two could help give me some guidance on.
The Bear: Welcome to the show doll, we'd be happy to help. But first, I gotta ask, what were you running before and what happened to it?
Lilly: Yeah! We gotta know what we're dealing with here.
Zuri [beginning to laugh]: So we had an Arcadia Y-400-
[both hosts erupt into laughter]
Lilly: And it broke!?
The Bear: Doll what in the hell did you do to this thing!?
Zuri: [laughing] Listen! Listen! It was my grandfathers! We had been replacing parts on this thing since before I was born! It was its time!
The Bear: Lilly, is she dodging the question?
Lilly: I think she's dodging the question, Bear.
The Bear: Okay okay, so what exactly did you do to destroy this extraordinary museum piece?
Zuri: [laughing] Oh gosh I don't want to say it now.
[The hosts erupt with encouragement]
Zuri: My sons will play this game, where I'll be out working in the field. You know, rigged up, focusing on tilling. They'll sneak up behind me with their rigs on, jump up, curl up into a little ball, and try to lock themselves to my back-jack in the cargo position...
[The hosts are howling with laughter]
Zuri: They're- They're damn good at it too! My oldest, Zair, can do it in on solid motion. Its like one moment I'm minding my own business, the next moment I have a whole kid in a 100 pound work rig locked to my back!
Lilly: What a riot! Oh this is just dangerous to put on the air.
The Bear: Ahem, to all the parents at home we apologize in advance, please don't sue us.
Zuri: So- So one day- One day my youngest tries it, but he doesn't twist around fast enough, and the aux battery on the left arm clips an exposed spinal neurohelix. Zap! Neuros are fried. My legs and arms lock straight like stilts! Now I'm swearing up a storm, you know- "You little rats!" But I'm hobbling like a circus performer trying to chase em down and they're just dying. Musta been the funniest damn thing they've ever seen.
[The hosts continue to laugh uproariously at this]
The Bear: Doll we gotta get to advice part of the show or the network is gonna give YOU a show.
Lilly: What a way to go! You hit an aux to the spinal braid? That's fried. Done. Kaput. You gotta scrap that thing.
Zuri: Yeah, we've already gutted it. Old girl is rusting in the barn for parts now. Zair is a whiz, so I'm hoping he can get some good use out of it.
The Bear: So we hear you're looking for a new rig?
Lilly: What's your price point love?
Zuri: We've got a good chunka cash built up. We're looking at something in the 600 to 700 washer range.
The Bear: That's pretty good for a work rig. You've got a lot of choices.
Lilly: I have a sneaking suspicion that this price point has something to do with your special request?
Zuri: So, my oldest, Zair. I recently learned that he's been uh. Well gosh now I'm embarrassed about this too!
The Bear: Doll c'mon don't hold out on us!
Lilly: You called, we can handle it!
Zuri: I learned that Zair had been using the Arcadia to race on the weekends. He and some of the local kids would run street races at night. He's been rigging a grapple harness to the waist-jack, and stripping it before I need the rig for monday morning.
[The hosts laugh at this, though not as hard]
Lilly: Ha! So what you're saying is you want the biggest, slowest, beached-whale rig you can get? Something just impossible to race?
The Bear: I'm thinking an HR&R Pauldron, Heavy Industrial. With that type of money you can get the new 900 series. Ask for the high-stability option-
Zuri: No no! No you don't understand! The damn kid keeps placing last because he's been racing in a junker! What I'm lookin' for is something I can use as a work rig for the days, that's easy to strip and good to race on the weekends. I want it safe, you hear me? I can't stop this kid from racing, so I might as well get something that'll keep his skull together.
[The hosts explode into laughter again]
Lilly: You! You're a good mom! What I wouldn't give for a mom like you!
The Bear: Ma'am, one day, when I grow up, I wanna be like you. I wanna be that typea mom.
Zuri: So, can you help me?
[The hosts can be heard stage whispering for a moment, followed by the sound of cracking knuckles.]
The Bear: Okay. You've got a lot of good options here. My friend here wants you to get a sport rig, but that's not gonna have the torque you need for farmwork: Here's what you're gonna do-
Lilly: Would to! Have you seen what the Roadrunner 600 can do? Six point neuro uplink! Eighty pneumatic helices per leg! Tell me that's not good enough to rig a plow!
The Bear: The dirt Lil! We need solid-body articulation! Using a pneumo-helix for farmwork is like pouring sand into clockwork!
Lilly: You replace the dermis with a synthetic sheathe! I get no respect around here!
The Bear: Zuri, doll, here's what you're gonna do: You're gonna go to your local Post Office outpost. You're gonna ask if they have any old courier shipping rigs. You want middlegrade. Ask specifically if they have an Albatross W-500, or if you're lucky, an LH-640. These are long-haul light-load shipment rigs. They're ugly, but they're sturdy as hell, built for carrying things long distances through rough terrain.
Lilly: The kicker here is that they're both light-combat certified. Built-in medical and shock response treatment. You'll need to replace the medical gel canisters every few months to make sure they're fresh... And if a certain someone wanted to maybe engage in a little bit of light illegal street racing...
The Bear: Well the Albatross line is built to be constantly refitted for different weathers and terrains. So someone, not saying who, might have a real easy time stripping the plating for speed. That sound good doll?
Zuri: That sounds perfect, thank you so much girls!
The Bear: Perfect! Thank you for the call, you'll have to tell us how it goes!
Lilly: Please love we beg you! Call again! Toodle-oo!
Zuri: Thank you again!
[The caller hangs up, the show transitions into a commercial break]
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seventeenpins · 3 months
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a slight miscalculation - pt. i
pairing: Joel x F!Reader
word count: 8.3k
summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.
content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter
a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷
check out pt. ii
For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.
It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?
It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.
When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.
"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."
Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"
"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"
"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"
"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."
Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."
"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."
Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.
Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.
Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.
He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?
He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.
Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.
"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.
Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.
"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"
Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"
This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.
"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.
The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.
There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.
They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.
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6am Sunday.
You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.
(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)
You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.
"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.
"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.
He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.
You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.
You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.
A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.
How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?
You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.
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"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.
"Yeah?" he calls back.
"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"
Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.
But no.
That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.
"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"
She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"
"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.
"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.
"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"
He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.
"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."
He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"
Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"
"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."
She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.
"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.
He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.
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As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.
You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.
"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.
With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.
You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.
"This seat taken?" a man asks.
You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."
"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.
The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"
You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."
"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."
You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.
"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."
You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."
"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"
"Caramel deLites, hands down."
"Oh yeah?"
"Absolutely," he nods.
The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.
You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?
Whatever it is, it feels good.
The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.
"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.
"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"
"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."
"Texas?"
Joel nods.
"That's a long trip."
"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."
"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"
"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."
"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.
"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.
"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"
He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."
You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."
"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."
You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.
"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"
"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."
He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.
"What about you? Where're you from?"
"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.
"Ever make it to Texas?"
"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."
"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.
"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.
"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"
"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."
"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."
"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."
Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.
"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."
You half expect him to stand up and walk away.
Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"
"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.
"How about just one more fungus fact?"
You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."
You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--
"That's- That's actually really interesting."
Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."
Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."
Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.
"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."
Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?
"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."
The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.
"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"
He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."
You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.
When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.
Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.
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When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.
"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.
You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.
Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.
You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.
Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.
"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.
You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.
Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.
Tonight, though, you're ravenous.
As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.
Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.
And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.
He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.
"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.
You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.
Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.
You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.
You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.
It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.
"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.
You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"
He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."
"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.
"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."
You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.
"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"
"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"
You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.
You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.
"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.
He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.
"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"
You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.
"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."
"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.
He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.
"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"
Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.
It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.
Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."
His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."
His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.
"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"
He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.
When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.
"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."
He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.
You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.
Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.
"Enjoying the show?" you ask.
"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."
You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.
"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."
You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.
"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.
He's looking at you so earnestly.
"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."
You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.
"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"
You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.
After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."
"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."
Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.
You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-
After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.
It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.
"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."
"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."
He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.
"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"
"Not many, no."
"What, you usually fuck raw?"
"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.
"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."
Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."
"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"
His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."
The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.
But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"
"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."
"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.
"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.
"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.
"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.
"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."
Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."
"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.
Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.
As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.
"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"
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After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"
A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.
The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.
"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.
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The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.
"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."
"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.
You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."
He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.
"I'm getting tired," he admits.
"Me too," you agree.
"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."
"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"
Joel raises a brow.
"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"
You take a breath.
"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."
He stares at you.
You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.
How fucking inconvenient.
"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"
You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."
"Spatula?"
"Yep." You feel foolish.
"Huh. Spatula."
A silent moment between you.
"Got any pictures?"
You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.
Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?
His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬
There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.
But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.
After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!
The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.
His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.
He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.
"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."
Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.
With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."
You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.
Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.
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You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.
It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.
It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.
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Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.
He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.
I had a really good time If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?
It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.
Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.
After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.
He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.
Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.
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When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.
He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.
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You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.
You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.
Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.
But then he's standing right there.
You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.
Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.
"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"
Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.
Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.
You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.
"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."
Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.
This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.
All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.
Everything will be fine.
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Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.
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joonberriess · 10 months
Text
𓆩♡𓆪 “It’s the way you can ride, think I met you in another life, so break me off another time,” – jock!jk
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·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — creampies, marathon sex (mentioned), face-sitting/riding, dirty talk, NASTY SMUT, soft moments too, drunk sex, oc being lovely and jk being obsessed with it, high sex, lazy sex, get ‘em cowgirl style, unprotected sex as always, jk gets sappy when drunk, love these two 🥺
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MONDAY
Mondays are reserved for studying after partying the weekend with Jungkook and his friends. You ran your errands in the morning and by lunch you were back home with Luna doing assignments and lounging around in your room. Jungkook usually was off doing his own things and then later dropping by with food at your house. Nights however weren’t any different.
Mondays are for winding back and relaxing, and lucky for you Jungkook knows exactly how to get you to unwind with him on a peaceful Monday night.
“Jungkookie,” you softly moan out, “feels so good, ‘s deep inside me.” You murmur out with your head tilted back and hands settled over his chest for leverage.
Jungkook had his lip caught between his teeth and his face was scrunched in pleasure. He lets breathy moans slip past his lips, his hands were grabbing anywhere he could reach. His hands greedily squeezed and played with your ass cheeks while you worked your hips up-down, side to side, and back-forth over is cock. Oh Jungkook was convinced you were made for his cock.
“Just like that baby,” Jungkook whispers in a huff, “made it so messy, gonna have you clean it all up.” He licks his lips and looks down where his cock appears with a sheen coat of creamy slick, a ring of white forms around the base of his cock which disappears every time you sink back down.
You mewl at the idea of licking his cock clean and your hips stutter in their movements, his cock digs into that sweet spot and you roll your hips eagerly for more. “Love making it messy for you,” you whimper, “sounds so good.” Your words are slurred from the pleasure, your eyes flutter shut as you start riding him faster.
The headboard begins hitting the wall repeatedly from the force of your movements. You raise your hips up and down on his cock, bouncing the way you know will drive him crazy. Jungkook can’t do anything but lay there and take it as you use his cock to get off. He becomes more vocal and less talkative as he loses himself to the feeling of your pussy massaging his cock.
“Oh fuck..” Jungkook throws his head back and clenches his jaw, the way your hips slow down at the base of his cock and swivel in a small circle has him gripping the sheets for life. “Like that.” He swears you’re trying to kill him or something.
His groaning and slight whimpers send you over the edge, your tummy feels like there’s a ton of butterflies in there with the way he’s moaning out for more. You eagerly bounce on his cock with wet slaps as your ass makes contact with his thighs. His cock perfectly aims for your g-spot and has you shaking from your thighs.
“Jungkook..! ‘M gonna cum..!” You throw your head back, “Gonna cum, gonna cum,” you repeat breathily as a low whine slips past your lips.
Jungkook rolls his hips upward to aid you, his fingertips press into your hips as he grabs you for dear life. “Shit y/n,” he hisses out as he throws his head back, he feels your cunt clench down tightly on him and it makes his poor cock throb with need.
It happens so quickly neither of you register your orgasm at first, at least not until he feels your cunt squeeze him rhythmically, pulsing as your cream all over him and make the slick dribble down to his balls. Jungkook slows you down as his cock throbs weakly in response, it’s easily one of the most intense orgasms he himself has ever had. He feels like he’s in paradise as he collapses into the bed.
“Oh shit..” He gulps, what exactly just happened?
You collapse on top of him with a weak little moan, “Felt so good..” You whisper out as your eyes flutter tiredly, “I don’t wanna get up..” You mumble. Jungkook slaps your ass in response with a tired groan.
“You have to, gotta clean up.” He sleepily replies, ignoring your whine of protest. What a night..
+
TUESDAY
Tuesdays are free days, you always like to stay in and take the day off from studies and anything work related. You spend it lounging with Jungkook in his apartment watching some random movie on his TV while he rolls a blunt in the background propped up against your ass using it as a pillow.
“Baby,” Jungkook mumbles and licks over the wrapping paper, “I want some..” He murmurs out in a low whiny tone.
“Some what?” You softly reply.
Jungkook reaches up to grip your soft ass cheek, fondling it in his hand as he turns his head to give it a soft little kiss, “You know what.” He murmurs as he sets aside his blunt on the rolling tray and turns over. He cages you in under him, arms settling over both sides of you as he leans down to kiss your shoulder, “What are you watching?” He says softly as he looks over your shoulder.
“I put on that new Scream movie that came out.” You reply softly, shivering a tiny bit because you feel his necklace dangle behind your neck.
He hums nonchalantly and kisses over your shoulders, sighing deeply as he turns his face to hide away in your neck. He slips his greedy hands under you and into your shirt, cupping both tits in his hand as he rubs his thumb over your nipples and occasionally pinches the soft buds. When you whine out his name in that sweet little voice of yours he can’t help it, he turns you over on to your back and leans down to kiss you.
You softly moan against his lips and wrap your arms around his neck, he settles himself nicely over you with his hands splayed over your hips gently. Jungkook’s lips move against yours slowly. He's not rushing or anything, just savoring this nice moment with you. You’re not in much of a rush either anyways.
“Wanna smoke some?” He asks softly when he pulls away from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting both of your lips. He stares down at you with half lidded eyes and his lip between his teeth.
You look back up at him with hazy eyes and nod, “Yeah..” You pull him down for a gentle kiss, “Just a lil’ okay.” Jungkook nods and his eyes flutter shut again, kissing you while he reaches over for the rolling tray.
When you both pull away from the heated kiss you’re both panting softly, the movie is long forgotten and Jungkook focuses on lighting the blunt. You sit back and watch as he takes a small hit, hissing under his breath as he holds the blunt out to you. “You don’t have to.” He gently reminds you like every other time.
“I’m fine..” You softly say and take the blunt from his hand, taking a semi-long drag like he’s taught you before. It’s been a while so you end up coughing a tiny bit but Jungkook simply smiles as he drags you onto his lap. “ ‘m okay Jungkookie..” You murmur and pass the blunt back to him.
Jungkook takes a long drag from it as he lays there with his arm behind his head. Occasionally he passes it back and forth with you until there’s nothing left of it. You’re both left lying there with half-lidded eyes, high out of your minds but more importantly..horny. With Jungkook there’s no in-between, either he’s super hungry/sleepy or he’s super fucking horny. Same went for you.
It’s no surprise you end up lying under him with your panties cast to the side and his cock inside of you. Jungkook lazily leaves his marks all over your neck and tits he’s worse than usual as he covers you in dark purple blotches. The feeling sends shivers crawling up your spine, the pleasure is heightened from the weed doing its magic. You swear everything is ten times more better this way.
Jungkook lays his body flat against yours, groaning quietly into the side of your neck as he clenches the pillow tightly. You really made a mess this time given that his pelvis is smeared in your slick, every thrust sends you reeling in pleasure from the way his fat cock rubs against your oversensitive walls and his hips rub up against your swollen clit. You could really just cum from this slow pace alone.
“Kook..” You murmur out quieter than usual, your hands weakly come up to grip his shoulders. Your thighs shake from holding them up around his waist, they slip every so often until you end up lying there bonelessly with a weak whimper escaping your lips. “ ‘s so good..” You mumble.
“Yeah..” Jungkook turns to capture your lips in a slow kiss, “Need more..?” He hums out, reaching down to thumb at your slippery throbbing clit.
You keen in pleasure, hands shakily coming down to grip his wrist to stop him, “ ‘s too much..!” You gasp out, “Nooo..” You whine out, “Gonna make me cum too fast..”
Jungkook doesn’t reply and keeps rubbing instead, his hips kick upward a bit more forceful but still maintaining that lazy pace. He silences your moans and whines with a kiss, panting hotly into your mouth as he moves his lips against yours. The noises you two emit from the filthy kiss only makes you throb even more, you feel a bit of drool slip down your chin too..
“Mmm…” You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him to you, panting as you try to pull away from the kiss.
Everytime you do move away he follows you, lips pressing against yours insitently as he moans lowly, “Stay still for me baby..” He mumbles, “Wanna kiss you.” He whispers as he stares into your eyes. Both of your lips are coated in spit, glossy and swollen from basically sucking eachother’s faces off. Jungkook thinks it makes you look cuter.
“Jungkook,” you gasp and arch your back. He hits your g-spot dead on at this angle and it sends you into a surprise orgasm. It hits slow and makes goosebumps form all over as you tremble under him whimpering. He lazily smiles and keeps fucking you past your orgasm, chasing his own as he hugs you tightly and buries his face in your neck.
You lay there whining for him in oversensitivity as your cunt clenches around him tightly. Jungkook cums after a few more thrusts, he doesn’t make any noise and simply shivers as he slumps against you. “Ah.. fuck.” Jungkook mutters, “Baby, you want somethin’ to eat?” He smacks his lips as he slowly sits up, cock slipping from your wet pussy with a lewd squelch.
“Chips?” You softly say.
“Okay..” He slowly rolls out of bed, “Stay here, I’ll go buy some from the 7/11. I won’t take long, love you.” He comments on his way out after re-dressing.
“Love you too.” You sleepily smack your lips and lay back down with a sigh.
+
WEDNSDAY
Wednsdays you do your laundry, you find it so much easier to do it in the middle of the week that way you have it out of the way.
Jungkook sits there with his hands in his pockets just admiring the pretty view, oh it’s a view alright. You’re bent over digging through the dryer wearing these tight little shorts you got from PINK, you even wear this white tank top that rides up and shows your soft little tummy. Jungkook tilts his head with a stupid smile, kicking his legs as he watches your cute ass (literally).
“Jungkookie, I didn’t know that you had to take your dry clothes before the timer ends because then your clothes shrink! Can you believe that, look what happened to my undies.” You lift up the red lace undies to show it to him, dangling them right in the air where everyone looks and stares in shock.
Jungkook chuckles quietly, “Oh you’re so fucking cute.” He whispers under his breath and turns to side-eye someone who gives you a judgemental look, “C’mere, I can’t see them from here.” He says patting his thigh.
Like a puppy you come right over with the basket of dry clothes, huffing as you set the basket off to the side. You step in between his legs and lift the panties up, “See? I think they’re going to fit tighter now.” You pout.
“Tighter the better.” He grins and swoops down to take the garment out of your hands. “So,” he starts as you step away to the side, “are you still down to go out later? Jimin wants to go to this new bar that opened up, opens around eleven I think.” He tosses your panties into the basket as he gently taps your arms with his fist.
You nod, “Oh yes! I even bought this new outfit that I really like Jungkookie, it’s pink, it’s cute, and it’s pretty.” You cheekily smile. He laughs and you keep going, “The only downside is I don’t have anything to cover up with when it gets cold..” You pout sadly but then smile at him, “Can I have your hoodie? I think it’ll look super cute.”
“Sure, knock yourself out baby.” Jungkook grins softly as he picks out a few of your panties from the basket to neatly fold, “Maybe you should buy more of these,” he dangles the lace panties in your face, “they make your ass look so pretty.”
“I know! I was thinking about getting more because of how comfy they are!.” You smile softly and step between his legs again, giggling when he wraps his arms around you tightly, “Jungkookie if you help me fold the rest of my stuff I’ll show you what I got on right now.” You tease softly in his ear.
Jungkook hops off that counter so fucking fast.
+
THURSDAY
Thursdays are the busiest for you, they’re spent going to your lectures and turning in important papers. Your poor little brain is so fried by the time you’re done! Nothing beats coming home to Jungkook though, he already knows exactly what you need.
“R-Right there..!” You gasp and bury your fingers in his hair, “Please, please, please,” you beg under your breath and rock your hips against his face. Jungkook does not disappoint, he gives it his all, lapping at your slicked up hole and sucking on your fat little pussy lips, groaning and occasionally going back to your clit.
His strong arms hold you down over his face, his nose occasionally bumps into your clit whenever you move forward a tiny bit too much. You put one hand on the headboard and angle your hips down so your pussy sits perfectly atop his face. You’re half tempted to just ride his tongue, to make him take it while you get yourself off on him. He wouldn’t mind..would he..?
Jungkook’s hands squeeze your asscheeks tightly when you begin to ride his face earnestly. He moans softly and manages to catch your clit in his mouth, sucking harshly before letting his tongue run over it. “Kook..!” You sob out, hips humping his face as you rub your clit over his soft tongue over and over again.
Jungkook let you have it, groaning under you as he slapped your ass while you rode his face. He felt your thighs squeeze his head from the pleasure, shaking every so often as your hips stuttered in their movements occasionally. He was in pure heaven right now with a mouthful of pussy and your thighs as his earmuffs. He didn’t EVER want to leave.
“I’m coming..!” You whimper all breathy and high, “J-Jungkookie..!” You gasp out and your hips come to a stop as you cum hard. Your clit throbs and your pussy pulses around nothing. It feels so hot between your legs after such an intense orgasm. You almost forget Jungkook’s under you. “Oops..” You whisper and climb off of him, “Did I almost kill you?” You pout.
Jungkook pants softly as he lays there staring at the ceiling, “No.. even if you did I’m pretty sure that is what heaven feels like..” He whispers like he’s seen a whole new world, “Next time, wear your Sailor Moon costume.”
+
FRIDAY
Fridays are the best. The weekend is coming, classes are out for you, and Jungkook has plans for the two of you. You’re so ready to forget all about your stupid classes, and not to mention the fact that you’re looking forward to doing no work for the next two days.
Tonight Jungkook takes you out to a party his friend throws. You dance together and have a couple of beers before ending the night with good old fashioned body shots. Jungkook ends up taking about four shots from your pretty little body, and by the time you’re both going home in a uber he’s drunk and so are you.
Drunk nights lead to drunk sex, and drunk sex is hot, nasty, and it lasts all night.
You’ve been at it since you both stumbled into his room. He has you spread out under him wearing nothing but your pretty pink heels and that damned g-string with his intials hanging from the front and the back. The room feels hot and stuffy, the sheets are ruined and the headboard won’t stop banging against the wall. Your pussy makes the loudest noises ever, squelching wetly from both your creamy slick and his cum.
A light sheen of sweat covers your bodies, you’re not too sure how the hell he has so much stamina at the moment but you’re not complaining. In your drunken state you manage to pull him in by your legs, heels digging into his back as you cry out for more. Jungkook doesn’t mind, he carries on fucking you like nothing else matters. His balls slap against your taint creating this fopping sound everytime he bottoms out.
“Shit–” He moans out, “You look so goddamn pretty right now baby, pussy’s so fucken wet.. God look at those tits,” he slurs out and leans down to suck a nipple harshly, “fucken love fucking you.” He switches to your other nipple with a low groan.
You mewl in pleasure and hold on to the bed sheets for dear life as he fucks you within an inch of your life. It’s getting harder to hold back your orgasms when he’s pressing into your g-spot over and over again. This will go down in history as one of the best dickings he’s ever given you.
“y/n,” he moans, “look at me,” he pulls away to cup your face, “fuckin love you, you know that? Gonna make you my baby mama, marry you n all that shit too.” He grinds into you while he says this, “You love me too don’t you baby?” He moans out. You nod vigorously with tears in your eyes from the pleasure, you don’t trust your voice to reply verbally. Luckily he seems content with what, “Fuck,” he slams into you, “ ‘m gonna cum again..” He mumbles.
Jungkook fucks you until the sun rises, and by the end of it you’re left laying there with cum spilling from your pussy and sweat on your body. Jungkook somehow ended up on the ground sleeping in the mess of blankets and pillows, you don’t comment to much on that..
+
SATURDAY & SUNDAY
The weekend is reserved for fun, and fun comes in many forms. It could be Jungkook taking you shopping, going out to eat with friends, or even going out for drinks. This time however you’re both nursing the biggest hangover you’ve ever had. You decide a self care weekend is in order.
You both order takeout and spend the day inside curled up watching movies and trying to stave off those pounding headaches. “Owie..” You whimper and curl up into Jungkook’s neck, “The lights are hurting me.” You whine out, “Off, turn ‘em off..”
Jungkook hisses as he quickly shuts off his bedroom light, “Fuck I’m never drinking like that.” He shakes his head, “Next time pinch me if you see me trying to take shots or something baby.” He lays his head on yours with a sigh.
“That’s mean, why don’t I give you kisses! That way you focus on me and we can dance. Wait, do you want me to tell you no too for beer?”
“Oh you sweet thing.” Jungkook whispers under his breath, “Babe, beer is just as bad as the shots we drank, so yes, I need you to tell me no for that as well..” He trails off, growing sick from the thought of any more alcohol. You nod a bit too quickly because then you’re doubling over whining about the pain and dizziness, “You and me both baby.” Jungkook says as he sighs, “You and me both..”
And that’s how your week goes with Jungkook.
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TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys
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steddiealltheway · 8 months
Text
(A special post for my dear friend Cass @henderdads who is celebrating 10k followers 🫶💛 can’t wait to celebrate more milestones with you 🥳)
Eddie watches the follower count on the Corroded Coffin TikTok rise every time he refreshes their page as the rest of the band looks over his shoulder.
“I can’t believe your bat song is going to bring us to ten thousand followers. Considering it’s about-”
“Shut up,” Eddie cuts him off, refreshing the page again.
“Seriously though,” Grant says, pointing at the follower count, “We’re going to hit ten thousand pretty soon.”
“Which is a big milestone for us,” Jeff adds before circling in front of where everyone in staring at Eddie phone. “Shouldn’t we celebrate or something?”
All the boys pause for a moment, and Eddie can feel them all staring at him, waiting for some type of creative revelation as if he can just come up with something on the spot like... “I have an idea.”
Gareth and Grant high five as Eddie jumps up and points at Jeff. “Go get some lame confetti party poppers and a cheesy celebration cake.” He turns to Gareth and Grant and points at them. “You guys need to find out how to put our follower count on a laptop or something while I set up my room so we can do a livestream on Tiktok in there.”
“We’ve never done a livestream.”
“Exactly!” Eddie says clapping his hands excitedly, “That’s what will grab people’s attention and boost our follower count. We’ll tell them that follower ten thousand will get a special private video from us or something. I don’t know. Whatever they want!”
“What if they ask us to strip?” Grant asks.
Jeff sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “No one is going to ask you to strip, dude.”
“You never know!”
Eddie just laughs as he rushes off to his room.
“Wait!” Jeff yells after him.
Eddie pauses and turns around.
“What money am I using to by this stuff?”
Eddie sighs and digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out two twenties and handing them over. “If this doesn’t cover it, you’ve done something wrong.”
Jeff smiles widely before running out the door yelling, “I’m gonna spend all of it!”
Eddie doesn’t even care about his money going down the drain, he’s too excited about reaching ten thousand and being able to call Wayne about it. For now, it’s time to seriously do some work to his room in order to make it somewhat presentable…
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie adjusts the camera stand and the ring light he bought for their videos that he gets constantly made fun of for buying. But the guys can’t deny how much better their videos look, so he doesn’t want to hear it.
“Jeff, give me your phone.”
Jeff hands his phone over but whines, “Why my phone?”
“Because you have the best camera,” Eddie explains, setting it up and going to their tiktok page. The numbers are quickly climbing through the nine thousands, and at this rate, they’ll definitely hit 10k during the livestream.
Once everything is prepared, Eddie asks, “Ready?”
Everyone nods and Eddie starts the livestream. He waves at the camera and watches the view count grow quickly. “Oh wow. Hi everyone. We haven’t done this before, so sorry for anything weird that may happen or when Grant inevitably says something dumb.”
Eddie gets a smack on the back of the head as Grant says, “Hey!” Jeff and Gareth just look at each other knowingly and laugh.
Eddie half winces and smiles as he rubs the back of his head and reads the comments asking about the numbers on the computer. “Oh shit. Yeah! Oh wait, I don’t think I should’ve sworn. Oops. Uh, anyways!” He takes a deep breath and gestures to the computer screen. “So, this the whole reason for our livestream. We’re about to hit ten thousand followers-”
“Thanks to you guys!” Gareth interjects.
“Yes, thank you guys. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you,” Eddie says sincerely, laying his hands over his heart. “And we thought that we’d do something special for our ten thousandth follower. Maybe send them a video of us doing a cover of their favorite song or something. We don’t know! Whoever it is, you get to choose.”
“But you can’t make us strip!” Grant yells.
Eddie runs a hand over his face before gesturing dramatically toward Grant. “And this is what I meant when I said Grant would inevitably say something dumb.”
Gareth and Jeff just laugh as Grant turns red. Eddie turns around and pats him on the shoulder. “You know we love you.”
“Yeah, because you would suck without me.”
Eddie turns around and looks at the camera. “That’s absolutely true.” He looks at the comments and notices people asking them questions about when they’re releasing another song and if they’re planning on touring anywhere soon.
Jeff leans over squinting and says, “Oh! Our next song is called Hellfire Rains!”
Gareth looks at him slowly and asks, “Dude, are we allowed to say that?”
Eddie puts his head in his hands. This is absolutely a disaster, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Eddie’s head pops back up. “We could do something even worse and give them a sample of it.”
He sees the comment section flood a bit with affirmations of YES PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.
Eddie turns to the guys and shrugs. “Are you guys good if I play a weird acoustic version of it?”
All the guys shrug and nod until Jeff stops to say. “Wait, what if we hit ten thousand during that?”
“Then, you guys stop me and we look at the follower,” Eddie replies.
Jeff nods and says, “Okay, but what if I told you we’re only nine followers away from ten thousand?”
“What?!” The rest of the boys yell and turn to the computer, noticing the numbers going up.
Eddie scrambles to grab his phone and go to their page, refreshing their notifications to grab the name of the ten thousandth person. He quickly looks at the camera and says, “Okay guys, I’ll give you that cover after we hit this milestone and freak out.” He refreshes the page and grabs Gareth’s shoulder. “Wait, do you have the party poppers?”
“Shit!” He yells running to the plastic Walmart bag and digging through it, handing them to everyone.
“It’s about to happen guys!” Jeff yells.
Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest as he refreshes the page over and over.
“Holy shit!” Grant yells first as Gareth and Jeff yell to celebrate. Eddie glances at the screen showing 10,000 and laughs as everyone pulls their confetti party poppers. He turns back and refreshes the page.
He freezes.
“Eddie, man, who is the lucky person?” Jeff asks excitedly.
Eddie looks at them with wide eyes.
“What?” Gareth asks.
Eddie looks back at the name and presses on the profile, noticing their mutual followers confirming that it’s a legit account. “Oh my god.”
The guys all rush around his phone and stare at the page.
Gareth shrieks with laughter. “Holy shit! Steve Harrington? The same infamous Steve who your bat song is about?”
“The same infamous Steve who you had a horrible crush on in high school but could never get the courage to talk to him?” Jeff adds with a laugh.
“I talked to him once,” Eddie grumbles out running his hands over his face. This cannot be happening.
Gareth laughs loudly and says, “Let me recall it.” He turns to Jeff and acts like he gets flustered as he says, “Uh. Steve. Steve Harrington. You’re. Hi. Yeah. You. Uh. So Dustin and you. That’s cool. I. Well. Good seeing you!” Gareth then turns to run away quickly.
Jeff laughs loudly as Grant says, “Uh, guys?”
Eddie shakes his head as Gareth and Jeff ignore Grant to laugh about it until Grant yells, “Guys!”
They all look at him and notice him staring off. Eddie realizes that he’s staring at Jeff’s phone…which is still streaming.
They all seem to realize it at once and freak out. “Turn it off! Turn it off! End it!” Eddie yells as Grant drops the phone and Jeff scrambles to end the livestream.
They all pause and slowly look at Eddie who breathes out, “What are the chances that Steve wasn’t on that livestream and that everyone will forget about this?”
The rest of the boys slowly turn to look at each other with grim looks on their face.
“Oh no,” Eddie says burying his face in his hands. This is not going to be good.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Sure enough, the next day, there’s a viral TikTok going around of the movement that someone had screen recorded, and Eddie’s phone is spammed with texts from Dustin, annoyed at Eddie for never telling him about his pathetic crush on his babysitter.
Eddie ignores it and his friends attempt to drown out his sorrow with cake and platitudes of, “Hey, we’re actually gaining a lot of followers from this.”
Eddie just groans and buries his face in his bed. This cannot be happening.
“We did promise that we’d give our ten thousandth follower something special,” Jeff says. “So we still need to follow through with that.”
Eddie sighs, “I’m not going to message him.”
“Then I’m going to message him from our account and pretend to be you,” Jeff says.
As Gareth and Jeff encourage him, Eddie slowly sits up and says, “No. No. I’ll do it.” He begrudgingly reaches over and grabs his phone.
“And while you’re at it, people are complaining about you not doing that short cover so…” Gareth trails off as Eddie shoots him a glare.
“Okay, well we’re going to go pick up some food and give you some space so you don’t kill us,” Jeff says while grabbing Grant and Gareth and dragging them away.
“Thank you!” Eddie yells after them.
“But you’re not getting food unless you’ve sent him a message!” Jeff yells before closing the front door.
Eddie sighs and takes a deep breath before he glances at this phone, ignoring all the text notifications from Dustin, but he becomes curious about the text from a number he doesn’t have saved. He clicks on it.
As your 10,000th follower, do I still get to request something?
This is Steve Harrington by the way
Eddie nearly throws his phone but swipes to Dustin’s texts instead typing out, YOU GAVE STEVE MY NUMBER????
He scrolls through the dozens of texts, noticing a sequence of important texts he missed.
can i give steve your number? he’s asking me for it
eddie i swear he’s not mad or anything
okay i can’t promise that but it didn’t sound like he was mad
eddieeeee
eddie stop ignoring me
if you don’t respond im going to send your number
okay
im sending it
if anything happens i expect to be the first to know!!! don’t make me find out from a tiktok ever again
Eddie takes a deep breath and reasons that at least now he knows the number is legitimate. He opens the texts from Steve and stares at them. There’s no way he can text him.
And for some reason, he immediately decides to call him with is arguably a thousand times worse, but before he can hang up, Steve already answers with a, “Hello?”
Eddie swallows and tries to remember how to speak. “Hi,” he croaks out before clearing his throat and trying again, “Shit. Hi.”
“Hi,” Steve says, sounding amused.
Eddie sighs and lays back on his bed. “So, what are the chances that you weren’t on the live stream and you didn’t see that video?”
“Zero.”
Eddie groans. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t checked TikTok yet, but have people found you and flooded your notifications?”
“Uh…” Steve trails off, sounding hesitant to answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes. God, I’m so stupid. I just completely forgot the livestream was going or I never would’ve dragged you into this mess.”
Steve pauses and asks, “And what if I told you that I’m glad you forgot it was still on?”
Eddie sits up. “What?”
“What if…” Steve pauses and Eddie hears rustling on his end as if he’s anxiously twisting around. “What if I told you that I know what I want as your ten thousandth follower.”
“To punch me?”
Steve laughs, and Eddie tries as hard as he can not to latch onto the noise. “To ask you on a date.”
Eddie freezes in shock. Yeah, this isn’t happening.
“Eddie? Are you still there?”
“Yup, still here,” Eddie manages to breathe out. He pauses before asking, “You’re serious?”
“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I kind of had a big crush on you in high school, too. And I may have redownloaded TikTok when I heard about your live stream.”
“No way,” Eddie calls him out.
“Yes way. You should ask my best friend Robin. She saw the live stream and timed the follow perfectly for me. Plus, she’s suffered through my crush on you and has always been mad at me for never doing anything about it.”
Eddie can’t believe it. “Steve, can you FaceTime me right now?”
“Uh, sure. Yeah.”
Eddie clicks on the FaceTime button and waits until Steve’s face appears on the screen, further confirming it’s him and further freaking him out. Gosh, he hasn’t seen him in a while and he’s almost forgotten how gorgeous he is.
“Hey,” Steve says with a smile.
Eddie wants to melt into a pile of goo. “Hi.” He pauses for a second, getting a bit lost in seeing Steve’s smiling face on his phone. Then he remembers, “Oh! Okay, tell me again. But look me in the eye so I know you’re not lying.”
Steve chuckles and asks, “Eddie Munson, my secret high school crush, will you go on a date with me and fulfill the promise you made to all your followers?”
Eddie smiles and says, “Yes.”
-:-:-:-:-:-
A few days later, Eddie posts an update on the Corroded Coffin TikTok with a video of him singing a sneak peak of their new song then glancing off camera to ask, “Does my ten thousandth follower like it?”
Off camera, there’s a voice that sounds exasperated as they say, “How many times are you going to call me that instead of your boyfriend?”
Eddie puts his guitar down and rushes off camera quickly with a smile, but then the voice asks, “Did you end the video?”
Eddie pauses before saying, “No.”
“This is going to be a lasting issue isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Eddie confesses.
Then, the mystery man appears in the shot, revealing Steve’s smiling face before he ends the video.
Once again, the video ends up going viral, and soon enough, Eddie is celebrating 50k with all the band members along with Steve (and Dustin who is very mad to find out about their relationship via the second TikTok). But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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scuderiahoney · 19 days
Text
Every Second
charles leclerc x reader
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masterlist
summary: the world is ending. you’re right where you belong. 2.6k words
warnings: major character death (apocalypse au, everyone dies), charles & reader have a daughter, talks of death/afterlife/end of the world, it’s mostly sad not gonna lie
a/n: had this idea a LONG time ago, finally finished it today. loosely based on the music video for Older by 5SOS. see also: Till Forever Falls Apart by Ashe & FINNEAS and I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers. you get the vibes.
The world is on fire.
For once, you mean that literally. You’ve been saying it for years, in reference to politics and pollution and the general temperature of the planet. But now, the world is literally on fire.
Charles is pacing laps around the whole apartment. He’s unable to sit still, even now. The tv is on, the volume low, photos flashing by on the screens. There’s a countdown, ticking along at the bottom of the newscast, telling you exactly how many minutes you have left before the whole thing falls apart. You’re not sure how they seem to know. You won’t take the time to find out.
The next time Charles walks by you, you reach out and grab the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He stops in his tracks, and your fingers brush against his skin. He doesn’t look at you, hasn’t for hours. He stared at the ceiling, now. He’s angry, you can tell. It’s eating him up inside.
“Amour,” you say, calmly, quietly. “You will wear a path in the carpet.”
The irony of what you’ve just said doesn’t hit you until he lets out a bitter laugh. You realize, then, that by tomorrow there will be no carpet. There will be nobody to see the path he’s worn. Everything around you will cease to exist.
It’s funny, the end of the world. It doesn’t feel like you thought it would, though you’re not sure you spent much time devoted to the thought. You had worries, sure, but they always seemed so distant.
“We should wake her,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “I want… every second.”
“Okay,” you agree. “Okay, I’ll get her.”
“No. Not- I’ll go with you,” he says, twisting his hand to grab yours, then repeating, “I want every second.”
You stand up from the couch. He keeps your hands linked as he follows you to your daughter’s room. She’s asleep in the crib, barely one year old, head full of dark curls and a smile that bears his dimples. She looks peaceful. For a moment, you hate to disturb her. It’s the last time you’ll pull her from her crib. You understand, now, why he wanted to come with.
Charles walks over, reaches in with one arm, and scoops her up. It’s only then that his eyes meet yours, as he cradles her to his chest. The two of them make such a perfect picture. You’ve seen it before, after races when he’s tired and sweaty but always wanting to hold her, when he gets back from long trips and she clings to him for hours, when he gets her up in the morning and brings her to your room to wake you up.
He swallows tightly as she shifts in his arm, pressing her tiny round cheek to his neck. You tug on his hand, lead him back out to the living room. He squeezes so hard you think your fingers might fall off.
It won’t be long now before your daughter is fully awake. She’s already beginning to wiggle slightly, her eyelids fluttering. You don’t dare to try and let go of Charles, but you head for the kitchen and start warming up a bottle for her.
It’s what you’d do any day. It’s odd, because the apocalypse is breathing down your neck but your baby still needs to be fed. Other things, you’ve chosen to neglect- the trash will stay in the overflowing can in the kitchen. The mail will go unopened, bills unpaid. There’s a layer of dust on the fireplace mantle that will stay there until the mantle itself ceases to exist. You warm up your daughter’s bottle, though, and try to listen to the sound of the microwave instead of the sound of your husband’s crying.
She’s awake, now, and tugging at your hair with tiny fingers. Charles untangles your hands and wraps his arm around your waist instead, uses it to pull you into his chest. His grip is so tight it would almost be claustrophobic on any other day. Today, if you could melt yourself into one person with him, you would.
The microwave beeps, and you both jump. You grab the bottle, turn to your husband, your daughter. She’s yawning, her head on his chest, her hand still caught in your hair. She doesn’t know. She won’t ever know. There are so many things she won’t get to learn. You’ve dreamt of this your whole life- of love, a family, people to call your own and a home to spend your life in with them. In the end, your time has been so short lived. There are only so many minutes left. The clock on the TV counts down, and your chest aches with every second. You will lose them today.
Charles seems to sense your train of thought. He leads you back to the couch in the living room. He half sits, half lays with your daughter, legs up on the sofa, and holds his other arm out for you. She’s beginning to fuss, because she’s hungry- the most simple of human predicaments. When you sit down, he pulls you into his chest, to face him, your back to the tv. Even on the last day, he will try to shelter you. He curls his arms around you and your daughter while you hold the bottle to her mouth.
“My girls,” he says, voice barely a whisper. “My beautiful girls.”
You’d thought, when you had gotten pregnant, that Charles would want it to be a boy. A mini him, someone to teach karting and racing and follow in his footsteps. But before you even found out, he’d been insistent it was a girl, that she was going to be just like you, that he was going to be wrapped around her finger, same as he was around yours. And when she was born, his dark hair and your eyes and the tiniest fingers you’d ever seen, Charles had bawled his eyes out, holding her in his arms, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead.
He’d been so excited, told you all of his plans. There’d been days on the boat with her, days in the water, days at races with giant headphones to protect her ears. Her father had doted on her and loved her, had talked about her every chance he got. She was going to grow up with all the love the world could possibly have to offer and then some, surrounded by it, bathed in it.
It’s not fair. You’ve had years to live, you’ve gotten to be your own person, but she’ll never get that chance. You suddenly feel short of breath, chest tight, heart racing. Charles feels it and wraps his arm tighter around you. You stare at your daughter’s face, her tiny eyelashes, the little slope of her nose. She deserves so much more time. You rub your finger over her cheek as she drinks the bottle.
“S’not fair,” you mutter, blinking back tears.
“I know,” he says, murmuring the words against your forehead. “It’s not.”
There’s so much more you could say, but the words won’t come. How do you put that into words? The terrifying, all consuming fear of what is coming. There’s no stopping it now. Maybe it’s not worth dwelling on.
“You know,” you say with a sniffle. “She’ll never have to be afraid.”
Charles nods. “Nobody will ever hurt her.”
You reach out and hold her hand, her tiny fingers in yours. Her skin is so soft, unmarred by the world. She will never face heartbreak. She will never lose anyone. She will never have to worry. She’ll also never make her first friend, or have her first love, or her first job or first car, or… the nevers pile up and weigh heavy on your chest. The whole weight of the world is on you.
You press your cheek to Charles’ chest and let the tears flow. It’s silly to hide it. He holds onto you tightly.
There can’t be much time left, now. You can feel the seconds slipping away like grains of sand through your fingers. You have this uncontrollable urge to kneel on the ground and try to scoop them all up. The bits and pieces of your life together with him. You want to hold it all close to your chest, try and shelter it from the impact.
“The wine,” Charles says. “The wedding wine.”
You’d saved a bottle. It was meant to be opened on your tenth anniversary. It’s in the cupboard in the kitchen, a white bow around the neck, a label with a photo of the two of you custom printed by a friend. You’ve been married for three years now. At the time, ten years had felt so far away. Now it slips through the gaps in the cupped hands of your heart.
Charles passes your daughter into your arms and stands up. You cradle her to your chest and press your lips to the top of her head. You whisper to her, remind her how much she’s loved, how much you care for her. Charles returns with the bottle and two glasses, and the corkscrew you’d been gifted as a wedding present. You try not to dwell on it, try not to think about his brothers giving it to you, engraved with your new last name and with a note to accompany it- When you argue, or feel sad, or happy, or anytime, stop and share a bottle of wine together.
You take their advice- of all the times to take it, now feels like your best bet, though you’ve lived by little things like that your whole relationship. When Charles was gone for extended time periods for races, he always returned with a special bottle of wine, always made sure to set aside his first day back just for you, and eventually, for your daughter too. It was one of the things that bothered him most, he’d told you- he never felt like he had enough time. Stretched too thin between all the things and people he loved, everything that’s important to him. He pours you a glass of wine and hands it to you, and you wait while he pours his own. You clink the glasses together and take a sip. It tastes the same as it did on your wedding night, and fresh tears fill your eyes. All your family and friends, there to celebrate the two of you, and now it all comes to an end.
There are picture frames on the wall behind the couch. You stare at them, the tears in your eyes blurring the photographs, but you know what you’d find there. The wedding photo, when he’d kissed you for the first time as your husband. There’s the photo of the two of you on his first day at Ferrari, smiling bright and wide and happy and not having any idea how important you’d become to each other. There are family photos- just the three of you, and ones with your extended families, too. There are landscapes from your vacations together, pictures of you with friends out at parties, your whole lives, hanging up on the wall. All the photos will be destroyed, soon, along with the rest of the world.
Your daughter is dozing off against your chest. You turn to try and take a peek at the countdown on the screen, but before you can, Charles grabs your head and holds, firmly. It can’t be long now. Sometime this morning, just after sunrise, you think they said on the news last night. There’s sun filtering in through the curtains. Your breath gets caught in your chest. The dawn of a new day, of the very last day.
“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, lips against your forehead. “Don’t panic.”
“The world is ending, Charles,” you choke out, voice frantic. “We- we’re going to-“
“I know,” he mumbles. He knits his fingers with yours, right on top of your daughter’s back. “I know. Stay with me. Feel me? Feel her breathing? Just stay right here, my love. You are safe here.”
You’re not, you’re the least safe here that you’ve ever been, but you know what he’s trying to say. You feel the soft rise and fall of her back beneath your hand, feel the way he squeezes your fingers. Stay here. Stay with me. You take a deep breath against his neck, wondering if you can breathe in enough of him that he’ll be a part of you forever. Forever. What does forever even mean, now?
“It’s not enough,” you mutter. “It wasn’t enough time. We deserved more time.”
He nods, and when he speaks, his voice sounds raw. “It wasn’t. We did. But it never would have been enough, my love.”
“If you had more time,” you start, and you hear him choke on a sob. “What would you do with it?”
He’s quiet for a moment. There’s a million different options, a million different answers, a million things still left to do. You wonder if he’s thinking of the same thing as you, though.
“I would spend it right here,” he says, and you fall to pieces. “Right here, with you in my arms, and our daughter with us, and I would tell you how you are the love of my life and- and how I will find you, in the next life, and we will spend forever together. Over and over and it will never be enough,” he sniffles, his tears falling against your forehead.
“Give me a million more years, and I would like to spend them all with you,” you tell him, voice thick with your tears. “Every second.”
There’s a loud noise from somewhere outside. Your heart should be racing, but it isn’t. Charles wraps you up closer, pulling you around your daughter, trying to cradle both of you in his arms. This is it. If there’s anywhere you’d want to spend your last moments, this is the place.
“I will see you soon, my love,” he says into your skin.
Neither of you are religious, and you haven’t talked about your thoughts on the afterlife in any serious sense, but in that moment, you believe it, and you know he does too.
“Nothing could ever keep me away. We said forever,” he adds.
“I love you, Charlie,” you say, leaning up to kiss him. “Forever and ever.”
As the world falls apart around you, you bury your face in his neck and let it happen. There’s nothing you can do, now, except spend every second with him, with your daughter. All the seconds you have left.
…..
The Ferrari factory is bright and shiny, full of people who stare in awe. They have a new driver today, a new prodigy who’s meant to bring victory back to Maranello. You’re feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of it, by the people staring, by the buzzing underneath your skin. It’s too much, but you can’t back out now. You’re being lead through the crowd, and you hope you don’t look as terrified as you feel.
“Oh, and this,” your new team principal says, “is Charles. Your race engineer. You’ll be working very closely together.”
Charles turns around, eyes already sparkling. He grins, a dimple divoting his cheek. He’s cute. He gives you a warm feeling in your chest, like something familiar. When he shakes your hand, you swear you feel a spark. You’ve never met him, you’re almost sure, but it feels like you know him, or maybe, like you used to. It’s the strangest feeling, but it’s a comfort in this sea of strangers.
“Welcome to Ferrari,” he says, and it’s the millionth time you’ve heard it today but you could cry, still. For some reason, it means more coming from him. “You’re going to love every single second.”
Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5 @c-losur3 @casperlikej
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sprout-fics · 10 months
Note
OMEGAVERSE 141 MY BELOVED OH GOD IM GONNA THINK ABT UR WRITING ALL DAY
I do love this idea, so glad everyone enjoys this too!
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Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons
(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)
(Part Four: The First Heat)
Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Heat cycles, Comfort, SoapGaz, Slowburn
Masterlist
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Your heat hits hard
It's not as bad as the one that nearly killed you, but to say it's uncomfortable would be an understatement
You don't notice it at first. You feel off, sure, but everyone has off days. You assume you just ate something bad at breakfast, shrug, and try to move on
As the day progresses you begin to wonder if you're coming down with something. You're parched, too warm, a little shaky. You think maybe it's a cold, that you'll just sleep it off
It isn't until you run into Price later that day that you realize
The scent of an alpha that's scent marked you in the past to help keep other away wafts across your senses, and before you can blink-
It sends you to your knees
Price is alarmed, and reaches for you, before he realizes exactly what's mixed in with your scent. You see his pupils dilatate, see his throat bob as he swallows, but he manages to haul you upwards and slowly helps you to your room
You're sluggish and hazy eyed by the time you get there, leaning your weight onto him fully as your legs refuse to cooperate. You try to apologize, and Price reminds you there's no need, that you can't help it, that he'll make sure you're safely put away
Yet he merely dumps you in your room and extracts himself before he can have a change of heart, quickly texts the others to inform them of the situation
You barely make it into bed, exhausted, feverish, muscles and joints aching. It doesn't take long for you to pass out
When you wake up, it's dark outside, your room is dim, and you feel damp, gross with sweat. Yet there's a little message on your phone from Gaz, letting you know there's a care package for you right outside the door
You manage to crawl over, open the door just enough to slide the box in. Your back presses to the door as you sit on the floor, eyeing the contents
Snacks, water, hygiene items, a little soap bar where someone has taken a blade to redundantly carve the word 'soap' into it, and a black dark hoodie with a scent so heavy that when you hold it to your face you moan.
You notice neither alphas has come to offer their assistance, and for that you're both glad and a little lonely about. The thought is shaken away as you stumble towards the shower, clean off, slide the hoodie on, eat and hydrate, and collapse back into bed
Maybe it won't be a bad heat, you think
You wake up and your world is on fire
There's only hot air as you gasp awake, clawing at your blanket, drenched in sweat, sheets soaked. Your skin itches, and you pull off the hoodie just to get a cool reprieve, only to drag it back on when the ache between your thighs clenches painfully
It feels like you're drowning, like your veins are molten, like you can barely breathe
And between your legs is a searing, pulsing emptiness that makes you clench around nothing, has you buck and gasp and whine in search of reprieve. Yet there's nothing to help. Not even the touch of your scent marked pillow, not even the smell of Ghost's hoodie or water or food
You manage to fumble for your phone, reach and text one single line
"He lp"
It's the middle of the night, you think they aren't awake, and after a few minutes you decide to fix this yourself, pulling yourself from bed towards a cold shower
You don't get far, legs collapsing under you the moment you stand. It's so much, and try as you may you can't seem to drag yourself very far, crying out in frustration and resorting to hauling a blanket from bed to curl on the floor
It's how Soap finds you, curled up and writhing in pain. You see his face float into view, ashen with concern, and still dressed in his sleeping clothes. You take one inhale and whine, arch your neck submissively because he smells faintly like Ghost, like Alpha.
It doesn't take long for him to help you into the bathroom, stick you in the shower with all your clothes on, and turn on the coldest water you can manage
"Yer burning up, hen'." He mutters, eyes cloudy with worry, a hand placed to your forehead. "Need tae cool you down."
He vanishes for a moment, and you whine until he comes back with a clean set of clothes
"Can you get dressed by yourself?" He asks, and you consider, shake your head
Soap is nothing less than a gentleman despite the fact he's already seen you naked before, manages to fumble you dry and get you into fresh clothes before helping you back into your room
It's there that you find Gaz, in the midst of changing your sweat damp sheets, bleary eyed but offering you a smile
You're considerably more relaxed by the time the two sergeants have you fed and hydrated, finally curled up between the both of them on your cot
They're soaked in Price and Ghost's scents, and it's enough to make the need between your thighs relax just enough for you to go limp between them
Your head is cloudy with lust, with need, swimming with low pulsing desire at bodies pressing into you on either side smelling like alpha
It makes you hiccup, tears forming in your eyes at wanting, needing, hoping for them as your blood thrums too warm in your veins, and your voice chokes on their names as if somehow you can summon them the quell the ache
You know, in some distant, logical part of your brain, that Price and Ghost are being more than decent about this, that even if you asked in this state they'd refuse you until your mind is clear
It doesn't stop you from being a whiny, needy, horny mess between the two men that smell like them. Your hips jerk automatically, seeking friction, even as a hand kneads the small of your back to try and soothe you into keeping still. it has the entirely opposite effect, makes your fangs pop out and a low, heady moan tumble past your lips
It aches
Yet then a large, firm hand grasps onto your nape, and you suck in an unsteady breath as someone who smells like an alpha scruffs you, making you automatically go limp and still
"Good omega." Soap purrs in your ear, and you shudder, whine, but remain pliant in his grip, wet eyelashes fluttering as a heavy fog of sleep descends upon you once more, safe in the arms of the two men you trust the most to keep you like this
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simpjaes · 2 months
Note
currently thinking about frat!jayke fucking u in the hot tub infront of a major crowd of people… 😣 sitting ontop of jake whilst taking it in the back from jay as music (preferably “all the time” by jeremiah >_<) blasts loudly amongst the speakers, just to add a lil smth smth to such a sensual moment
not sure why but the thought of having sex in a bikini is so hot :// the fondling of straps and jaykes veiny hands in general 💗
i am speaking from my grave.
warnings: anal with no prep // drunk fucking @ party
ah, you're wearing your bikini with the ties intentionally so whoever you have your eye on can have the easiest access possible at this shitty and trashy college party.
what you weren't expecting what having an eye for two people. Jay and Jake, the two guys you've seen occasionally on campus. They were always together, best friends or some shit.
you wouldn't know, your best friend chose to go to a different college out of state, but whatever.
what you also weren't expecting was for the two dudes who are always together to....share a girl??? publicly? as if laying claim to you blatantly showed their status over everyone else?
it kind of did, if you're being honest, because you cannot hold in the moans even when you fucking try. right here, shamelessly moaning for all ears to hear and all eyes to ogle at.
all cameras to record.
whatever.
what started with five or so people in this hot tub ended with just the three of you, where jay worked his magic through his hands and jake works his through words.
you were a goner, with or without the alcohol in your system to be honest. if jay were to untie the side of your bottoms the same way he just did when you were sober? you'd probably have untied the other side for him.
and when jake pulls you onto his lap? making you feel weightless in the bubbling hot water as you sat directly on it, and slid right down on him without so much as noticing when he pulled it out of his shorts? ah, made it even easier to not be shocked when you felt jay against your back.
his chest wet, dripping with that same warm water as he made sure you were right where you needed to be for his best friend.
your arousal that hit you like a ton a bricks within seconds, paired with jay's cock teasing you right against your ass? whatever, at this point you want to be fucked in all possible ways by the two men against you right now.
and they do just that. jay soothing you against your ear through the pain of him sliding straight into your ass with words of "aw, you're just gonna take him?", pretending like you definitely didn't need prep. jake, under you with his own words of "fuck, relax. squeezing me so tight-", holding your waist with a white knuckled grip, forcing both you and himself to try and adjust to the feeling of jay's thick cock forcing it's way into too-tight of a space.
ah, all three of you are panting by the time your body relaxes for both cocks, overheated, overstuffed, and there for all eyes to see within the span of a few minutes. not that you care. surely you will by the time monday comes around though.
except you don't. Because now you have two hot guys???? walking beside you??????? all the fucking time???????? constantly trying to get inside of you again?????????????????????
ah, college life. where you thought the grades would fuck you harder than any man could. And that would be 100% correct if it weren't for the fact that you didn't exactly factor in two hot guys :/
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sommerbueckers · 2 months
Text
My Brother's Best Friend Pt3??
(smut😏)
A small breeze crept through my open window and a chill settled in my bedroom. I typed away on my computer, trying to finish up the last of my homework before Thanksgiving break came to an end. The week had been exactly what I thought it'd be and some change; Paige and Micha came home from college and spent the entirety of the break playing Fortnite and arguing over silly superheroes. The rest of the Bueckers family joined us for Thanksgiving dinner too where Drew graced us with a few of his dance moves. And to top it all off, I had gotten a 25% discount on a pair of Ugg boots for being the first person to purchase from the website on Black Friday.
I finished off the last of the water in my bottle, twisting the cap back on and tossing it toward the trash. I missed, badly. The sound of the plastic defeatedly hitting floor echoed through the room, though it wasn't louder than the laugh that came after it. I snapped my head to my door to find Paige standing there with her arms crossed, leaning against the frame. She had that adorable stupid smile plastered on her face as she looked at me.
"That couldn't have been worse if you tried" she laughed.
I rolled my eyes, twisting the chair around as I said, "Micha isn't here."
"I know that," she nodded, "I just got off the phone with him."
"So...why're you here?" I frowned.
"What? I can't visit my favorite cheerleader now?" the blonde asked with a pout, "That hurts my heart Sunny."
My unimpressed look didn't falter.
After a moment of silence she sighed, seemingly struggling to say what she was thinking.
"You and Micha are driving back today, shouldn't you be packing or something?" I asked, "Unless I've got the date wrong."
I stood up and walked over to the calendar I had hooked on the wall. My eyes traveled over to the large red circle, inside the writing read 'Paige and Micha go bye-bye:(.'
Paige cleared her throat from behind me, "No, you've got it right."
I turned around, staring at her from across the room.
"I just-"
"You just what?" I interrupted without thinking.
"I came to say goodbye" she admitted.
"Goodbye to me?"
"Yes you."
"Why me?"
"Jesus Sunny!" she exclaimed with a smile, "I can't say 'goodbye' to you?"
"No you, you can," I stammered.
Paige nodded contently, "Good."
She pushed off the doorway and began walking toward me, her arms opening the closer she got. I wasted no time wrapping my arms around her neck and pulling her close to me. We hugged for a little lot longer than we should've, both too embarrassed to say it but not enough to show it. I breathed in her scent, hoping to remember it long enough for it to last until I saw her again.
I loved the way I had to stand on my toes to reach her, how she never complained about having to bend over to hug me. Though truth be told I don't think she really minded.
I had gotten used to the sound of her laughter again as it rang throughout the house, how she always did the same celebration dance when she beat Micha in a game, how she never failed to make me feel seen whenever we were in the same room. I was crushing so hard on this girl it wasn't even funny.
When we pulled away, she took a step back.
"Were you serious when you said you were gonna unplug your tv if one of my games came on?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"And miss the chance to see you all sweaty? No way..." I smirked.
She laughed loudly, I wanted to record it and add it to my Spotify playlist. Instead, I checked my watch and sighed.
"What time are you guys leaving?" I asked.
Paige shrugged, "Not sure, whenever he gets back I guess."
"Hmm," I hummed, "that could take hours."
I stepped closer.
"Yeah," she laughed, "or he could be back any minute."
She stepped closer.
At that point, you could cut the tension with a knife. I stared at her; ski slope nose, blue eyes, perfect teeth hiding behind those perfect lips. I just needed to last until winter break, that was only two weeks. I had gone far longer than that before, so surely I could do that...couldn't I? God I needed wanted her so bad.
In an instant her lips were on mine, her hands cupping my face as she held me in place. For a moment I was frozen, my eyes wide with shock while my brain processed what was happening. And when it did...boy did things take a turn. I pulled her closer by her shirt, our bodies pressing against each other as much as they could.
I felt her hands move from my face down to my ass, squeezing roughly. I laughed when her tongue slipped into my mouth, sending a fuzzy feeling from my chest down to my thighs. I couldn't help but let out the quietest moan at the feeling, my need for her growing with every second that passed.
I couldn't believe this was happening; Paige and I, me and Paige. It felt like sophomore year all over again, except I was sure by now, both of us had gained enough experience to actually have some fun. The thought of Paige fucking other girls was almost enough to make me cringe...almost. I didn't though, because right now those other girls didn't matter, I did.
She turned us around and pressed me against my vanity, my hands immediately grasping the edge of it to keep me from losing my balance.
We broke away from our kiss, giggling like schoolgirls at the way my perfume bottles and lotions had fallen from the sudden force.
"Too much?" she asked breathlessly.
I shook my head, "Not enough."
As she reconnected our lips, she trailed her hand up and down my inner thigh. I opened my legs, giving her access to where she wanted.
"Wider" she said.
I obliged, parting my legs further to allow her hand to trail closer to my spot.
This girl could tell me to jump and I'd ask 'How high?'
I felt her hand slide into the waistband of my leggings, and by her smile, I knew she had discovered how intense my need for her had gotten. I knew I was soaked, she knew I was soaked...now what was gonna be done about it?
She rubbed my clit through my panties so painfully slow that I could feel myself crumbling bit by bit.
I whined as I threw my head back, "Faster Paige, please faster."
She placed soft kisses on my neck, teasing me as she moved my panties from side to side. I was fucking throbbing. When she had finally had enough, she slowly began moving her fingers up and down my folds. I moved my hips to match the pace, my shaky breaths filing the room.
Up and down.
Circles.
Up and down.
Up and down.
Circles.
The patterns were driving me insane, and my shaky breaths soon turned into tiny whimpers. I wanted to come at the sight of her: staring down at me hungrily with those gorgeous eyes. Her lip taken in between her teeth as she focused her attention on pleasing me.
I was a needy mess. My face rested in a permanent pout as we held eye contact, my cheeks growing hot. She laughed lowly, almost as if she was teasing me. I felt her fingers speed up as she rubbed circular motions on my clit, it was so sensitive it almost hurt.
"F-fuck...just like that" I moaned out, nodding my head.
"Mmm you like that?" she smirked, once again changing her speed.
"Yes..." I whispered breathlessly.
Her middle finger razzed my entrance, pushing in only a little before pulling back out. She was enjoying the effect she had on me, the way she gauged my face for a reaction every time she did something new gave her away. Steadily, she inserted a finger. I gasped, sucking in all the air around me. I smiled at the sound that cut through the silence as she began to fuck me. Having to hear how wet I was for her was embarrassing, but I didn't even care.
"Faster" I pleaded shamelessly.
She laughed.
"Tell me how much you want it" she demanded.
She wanted me to talk? Of all things that she could've been hearing: moans, whimpers, strings of curse words as she fucked me senseless, she wanted to hear sentences? When I didn't respond she pulled her finger out, her left hand gripping the back of my neck while her right rested just outside of my entrance.
"I want it," I said, my voice pathetically desperate, "I want it so fucking bad."
She smiled smugly, giving me the most delicate kiss on my lips that I had ever gotten. She didn't back away as she slammed two fingers into me, listening for my reaction. She didn't have to listen very hard because the scream that I had let out was loud enough to alert the neighbors. She couldn't hold back her laughter as she watched my face contort from the pain and pleasure. She began pumping her fingers in and out, giving me time to adjust to it before quickening her pace.
"You're doing so good for me" she whispered, not taking her eyes off mine. "You take me so well."
I tried to play it cool but I just couldn't. I had gripped her shoulder tightly with one hand while keeping the other firmly behind me. The most pitiful moans fell from my lips as she started to speed up. I was practically dripping as I came close to my climax. I tried to hold it, not wanting this euphoric feeling to end, but I couldn't help it as I tightened around her.
"You gonna be a good girl and come for me, hm?" she asked teasingly.
"Y-yes" I panted.
"Yeah I know you are, go 'head mama" she cooed.
I buried my head into her shoulder as I came, my sweet cries muffled by the fabric of her t-shirt. She held her fingers in me for a moment, helping me through my orgasm before carefully sliding them out. I shuddered at the absence of them.
She smiled proudly at her hand, slowly bringing it to her mouth and sucking her fingers clean. She's definitely done that before. She pulled me in for a hug and kissed my head, "You're so adorable."
I smiled against her chest, and that's when we heard the front door open. Micha was home.
"I think that's my cue" she murmured into my hair.
I nodded sadly. "Two weeks?"
"Two weeks."
OKAY GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE ???🙏��🙏🏼 This smut was not very good but it's literally my first time ever ACTUALLY writing it so...how'd I do???
Just let me get some more practice and I promise y'all won't be disappointed, trust. Also this wasn't proofread so if there are any typos or whatever that's my bad...
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screamforyani · 1 year
Text
cariño
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warnings ↠ dubcon-ish?, enemies with benefits, handjob, edging, implied intercouse towards the end
a/n ↠ i know this is very out of the blue but i watched atsv and i cant get miguel out of my head
wc. 1.1k
“untie me,” hissed miguel, fangs jutting as his blood-thirsty eyes followed you. 
you let out a hollow laugh the second those words escaped his mouth and met his penetrating stare. to say you and and miguel were enemies would be an understatement. there was something about this guy that irked you in the worst way, but could also turn you on like no other.
the feeling was mutual. you’d never admit a word of this if it wasn’t - not even to yourself. you and miguel had a weird thing going on, the sort of thing where the line between hate and lust grew thinner with each dark, loathing stare he shot you. 
maybe you’d had his cock in you a couple of times. twelve, to be exact, though not that you were counting (because you totally weren’t). not your proudest moments, but the sight of him on his knees, tangled in a weaving of webs made you forget it. his muscles bulged with every endeavor to free himself from your little trick. which was hilarious, because if they were any tighter, they’d burst right through his spandex. 
not that you were complaining. 
“hm, let me think about it,” you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “no.”
“i said - untie me. now,” miguel roared, as if it would make any difference. 
you crouched before him, pouting. “what’s the matter, spider-man? can’t handle other people telling you no? you don’t get to be the boss of everyone, cariño.”
you waved your finger in his face, to which miguel responded to with a lean forward as if he were going to bite your wrist off, but you were too quick. 
“woah there, bitey,” you taunted. “get it? that rhymes with spidey. hilarious, don’t you think?”
miguel spat, “you annoy me.”
“it’s a pleasure,” you said, merely grinning. then, you pointed to the extended talon behind his back where his hands were tied, asking, “can i borrow that? thanks.”
you used his talons to poke a hole in the lower half of his suit, promptly tearing at the spandex until the hole expanded. miguel wasn’t exactly pleased, not yet anyways, barking, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“more than you deserve,” you whispered, widening the gap until his half-hard cock was freed. that you inevitably already saw. for obvious reasons, it was difficult for spider-men to conceal their hard-ons. “you guys freeball under these suits? that’s crazy. i mean, not that you’re gonna catch a hard-on fighting the spot, but you never know. i mean, what if some really sexy villain just hits… the spot. get it? the-”
“the spot. yes, i get the joke. shut the hell up,” miguel grumbled, irritated.
you giggled. his annoyed face was too hot. of course, you were riling him up on purpose.
licking a line down your palm, you gently grabbed his cock, stroking him in your hands while looking him in his angry eyes. you saw his features tense, the part that didn’t want to be angry surfacing. the part that wanted to be relieved.
that was all that was wrong with this cranky guy. he just needed some relief in his life, and who better to provide it to him than you, the spider-person he never wanted on this team in the first place but took in because jess had insisted you could be useful. and you were, in more ways than one. not that miguel would ever admit that, though.
“fuck,” miguel grunted, writhing again, though not in an attempt to escape. you knew how to pleasure him and that was your saving grace, but you also knew how to tease. “could you be any slower with that?”
“i could, actually. watch this,” you retorted, now pumping him in no particular hurry. you had time to waste.
your leisure movements were killing miguel slowly. literally. he groaned, “well, could you go any faster?”
“i could,” you repeated with a lilt. “but you’d have to say the magic word.”
“go faster!”
you gave him a mocking frown. “i don’t think that’s it, o’hara.”
“do i have to?”
“do you want to cum?”
miguel winced his eyes closed, heaved a huge sigh, and huffed, “please, go faster.”
“wow, you hit the lottery,” you said, quickening your pace. you loved watching his brows furrow with pleasure, sweat beading at his face.
miguel bit his lip, wanting to be mad at how you satisfied him. it reminded you of when he was buried balls deep inside of you, his weight resting on top of your chest while his teeth clamped into your shoulder, not for the purpose of extracting blood but to smother the sounds of pleasure that escaped him when your cunt was squeezing his dick. almost like he would rather die than let you know you were good for something.
it didn’t matter, though. the telltale signs of arousal manifested themselves in plentiful ways from his body, like the taut ache in his pants when you turned him on a little too much. he got so hard for you, it was ridiculous.
and you were having a ball (you were tempted to make a joke, but resisted for his mental sake). there was something about having an insanely large, strong man who could potentially crush you to smithereens squirming at your mercy. it made warmth spread through your chest and the slyest grin curl onto your lips.
miguel’s hips were thrusting into your palm, an obvious sign that he was on the brink of climax. you’d come to know it by now - he started to lost control, the reins slipping out his hands. and you loved it. you loved how he was a slave to his urges and not the other way around.
“you almost there?” you asked, in spite of being fully aware. 
miguel offered you no words, but the look on his face and his unstill, restless body said enough.
that was when you got the bold idea to withdraw your hand at the very last second, depriving him of what could have been. his wrath was instant. you saw his hips flail in a desperation you’d never seen of him before, his fluttering eyes snapping open to cut at you.
“oopsies,” you sang, smiling innocently.
that was the very last straw for miguel and he broke out of your restraints, having enough of playing weak. you gasped, caught off-guard when he switched on a dime, throwing you against the ground and hovering over you. you parted your lips to speak, but he was quick to shoot a web over your mouth. 
“you talk too much,” miguel growled, cutting your own spandex with his talons, and was pleased to find you were very wet. he fixed himself between your thighs, leaning into your ear to whisper, “and for the record, nobody decides if i cum, cariño.”
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ohisms · 4 months
Text
↪ 𝐹𝐼𝐿𝐿𝑂𝑅𝑌 ⅋ 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 . ( a collection of sentence starters from season one of syfy's the magicians . adjust phrasing as necessary . this prompt will be updated as time goes on . )
it's always something with you , isn't it ? it's always an emergency .
look , this is your responsibility .
wow , nice trick . i'm sure you're a hit at parties .
so ... you think you're ready .
i called you . all weekend . where were you ?
okay , we have got to pull you together .
you can't run away hard enough , can you ?
i know where you were all weekend .
life is raw , everybody medicates .
i love you . call me , okay ?
am i hallucinating ?
come on , or you'll miss it .
can i start over ? please .
i'm going to make sure you don't remember a thing .
playing with time is such difficult magic .
don't bother trying to compare yourself .
it's good to be aware the world is blatantly unfair .
it's my fault that they said that .
if you think my family is some sort of advantage , you've been misinformed .
maybe i wouldn't let myself forget .
that was before i knew there was something else .
it's really okay if this is not your thing .
you're hurting yourself , & you're not okay .
i just needed to see if i was right .
we've been watching you for quite a while now .
hello ? do you need help ?
you feel right because you're starting towards your destiny .
for some reason , you're involved . so be involved .
look , hold that thought , okay ?
i'm obviously coming with you .
there's no such thing as safe magic .
what is this place exactly , besides a health hazard ?
you ask a lot of questions .
jesus , you didn't tell me you were dangerous .
it's a little bit bigger than messing up .
there's a bad story every few years around here .
can you just help me live with myself ?
i'm gonna tell you something deep & dark & personal now .
i'm trying to tell you , you are not alone here .
i don't know . i wanna be your friend , i guess .
you should hate me right now .
the last thing i wanted to do growing up was read fantasy .
let's just say life wasn't exactly non-stop fun growing up .
if you're guilty , i'm guilty .
come do something stupid with me before you go .
okay , you know what ? i'm not interested in your personal issues .
this isn't just some lark to me , just so you know .
i mean seriously , what do they expect , you know ?
look , you can't run away from you .
there's nothing i can do in this moment to stop the comet from crashing into the earth , is there ?
i keep trying to tell myself that this is somehow better .
you don't see color & want to go back to black & white .
you can't help , & i can't help you .
what the hell was that , you maniac ?
why would you ever trust anyone ?
i'm willing to teach the right people what i know . & i know a lot .
you're lucky i can fix this .
hey , have you heard of karma ? sometimes it's instant .
i'm generous with you , considering .
get me everything on this list . this week .
why even ask , if you'll just forget it again ?
that's not a real answer .
you're a much better liar than i expected you to be .
do you think you have a destiny ?
there is no destiny . no born heroes .
you can either step up to it or not , that's up to you .
this is your problem , that you should solve !
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thatonebirdwrites · 5 months
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When the news came, Lena was in a meeting with Sam and the L-Corp's board. She'd long ago set all alerts for Supergirl to come through to her phone, but ones where Supergirl was injured had been set to ignore all other settings.
The ring caused Sam to jump, but Lena kept her cool. She glanced down at her phone, and felt her veins turn to ice. A brief message that Supergirl had fallen from the sky.
Shit.
Lena grabbed her phone and bag. "I regret that I must take this call. An emergency has come up."
Sam looked at her, her brow furrowed in worry. "I can handle this, Lena. Go."
With a tight smile to her friend and CFO, Lena hurried from the room. She swapped out her shoes, and took off in a sprint. The alert had given her an intersection, but she needed to know if Alex knew about this yet.
Lena: Alex, I'm incoming.
Alex: wait, what?
Lena: Kara, she's fallen.
Alex: The hell? She's supposed to be eating lunch! Was in a meeting. Where?
Lena forwarded the alert's text, baffled that Alex had no idea.
Alex: How close are you? It's gonna take me fifteen minutes. J'onn unavailable.
Lena: Be there in five.
The doors of the elevator opened. Why drive when she could take the helicopter? When her pilot reached the intersection, Lena stared in horror. Someone had what looked like a missile launcher over their shoulder, and Kara laid in a cracked hole in the street in front of Noonan's. So Alex had been correct, Kara had been getting lunch, as drinks and food was spilled across the curb. People clustered in the doorways of the cafe and storefronts, and Kara's supersuit had a burn mark across its front.
Fuck.
"Hold us steady," Lena ordered the pilot. She grabbed a bag from behind her seat. In case of an attack -- considering she had quarterly assassination attempts all the time -- she had some specific weapons in here. One of them was a shotgun with some unusual shells. She flicked through her supplies and decided on a particularly useful set. She popped in the shells, cocked the gun, and threw open the door. The person started to look up, but Lena wasn't giving them a chance to react. She fired. The shots slammed into the person's back and immediately ice formed. She fired again. This time the person fell to the ground as a block of ice. Cryo shells had their use. She reloaded and gestured to her pilot.
He brought the helicopter closer to the ground. "Watch my back," she said, mostly out of habit, though she doubted the pilot could do anything. "And stay in the air. We'll need a quick exit." "Right, Ms. Luthor." He kept his gaze on the controls, his voice coming through her headset.
She jumped to the ground, her shotgun cocked. As she scanned the area, she realized, to her dismay, that another person stood in the shadows of the storefront across from Noonan's, armed with some sort of long rifle. Why the person hadn't fired yet confused her.
Lena aimed but didn't fire yet. She didn't have confidence that her shot would hit before the other took her out. "Step away from Supergirl."
The person wasn't that much taller than herself. Curly blonde hair leaked out of the black beanie, and blue eyes regarded her from under a black mask, their clothes definitely assassin-like. "Stay out of this, Luthor." A high-pitched voice. Possibly a woman?
"This is my business." Lena stalked closer. "Don't think I won't take you out like your friend there." She nodded at the other person dressed in black with a black mask over their face, their eyes closed. Ice was still encased around their lower body.
Lena wished she'd seen the person earlier. Otherwise she'd have fired on them too. Now they were in a stand-off exactly when Kara needed her the most.
"I don't want to do this," the woman in black said. "You're not on our list."
"Then step away now. Don't think I won't fire."
The woman stared at her for a long moment as if sizing her up. Her voice timbre changed to a hint of coy and frustrated. "Why do you care, Lena Luthor? Doesn't your family hate Kryptonians?"
Lena rolled her eyes. "I'm not them." She needed to distract her somehow. At least until Alex got here or Lena could fire the shot without getting hit in turn. "Now, how about you put down your weapon, I'll put down mine, and we'll talk like civilized people?"
The woman hesitated, her rifle moved just an inch down.
That was when the shot came from above. The bullet hit the woman's shoulder, she staggered backward, and Lena took the shot. Two blasts later, the woman was encased in ice like her friend.
Lena slung the shotgun over her shoulder and raced to Kara's side. "Supergirl!" She dropped next to her and felt for Kara's pulse. It was faint, far too faint. "Dammit." She didn't have time to check for injuries. Kara needed extracted immediately. "Riordan, drop the stretcher," she said into her headset.
The helicopter hovered closer, and a side door slid open. The stretcher shot out, swung, and slowed to a stop above her head. She reached up, snagged its side, and pulled on its rope until she had it next to Kara. It took two tries to lift the Kryptonian -- damn, Kara was heavy -- until she had Kara on and belted in securely. Flicking the switch on the bottom of the stretcher, a set of footrests dropped into place.
After she clamped her shoes onto the footrests, she noticed several people had started to come out of the stores with their phones in their hands, likely recording her rescue.
Whatever. All Lena cared about was Kara. "Go," she ordered her pilot, and held on tightly as the helicopter lifted toward the sky.
TO BE CONTiNUED...
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nsharks · 1 year
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I don’t know if your taking request, but if you’re not please ignore me.! But my request is Simon kid got a tantrum and Simon is comforting them🥺 (Please excuse my English. It’s not my native language </3)
oh honey you are totally fine! and I love this request so I had to do it right away <3
simon comforts his son during a tantrum
very brief abuse mention
“What do we need the cranberries for, love?”
Simon’s pushing the grocery cart with your son in it. Meanwhile, you drag your feet behind him, your infant daughter asleep in a carrier against your chest. It seems, recently, she prefers sleeping during the day. The evidence of this is clear in the slackness under yours eyes.
Simon was used to preforming on little sleep. It’s easy to say he’s handling the week of regression much better than you are.
“Salad,” you answer numbly. One hand rubs at your eyes, as if that will make them feel any less heavy, and the other hand rests on your daughter’s back. “We’re having that salad I like tonight, remember?”
“Well, gonna have to find something else.” He raises a brow and juts a finger towards the shelf. “All out. Bloody hell, who’s buying cranberries this time o’ year besides you?”
You don’t even have it in you to remind him to watch his language. Sighing, you chew at your lip and offer a small, lazy smile. Having him here, not just to help but to keep you sane, is something you cherish. Even through your lack of your sleep, you savor the moment; grocery shopping with your family.
With Simon’s bare face on display.
In public.
Something you were surprisingly used to now.
It’s funny; you had sex with him, loved him, before you ever saw his face. And now it’s a face that you get to watch bury in your children’s tummies to blow raspberries in the mornings.
“What do you think, bug?” Simon asks the toddler in the cart, touching his little chin. “Maybe salad isn’t the right call for tonight, huh?”
“Don’t get him on your side,” you huff. “You never want my salad.”
“I’d just prefer to eat a real meal,” Simon shrugs, glancing over the shelves as you walk through the aisle. You should’ve known he had already been thinking about hijacking the dinner tonight.
And in this moment that Simon is distracted, looking for stuff to make a real meal, the toddler in the cart leans over to grab something.
It’s a glass jar.
Manages to get both little hands on it and bring it to his lap in the cart.
“What are ya-“
Simon frowns and looks down at him.
“What do you have there?” he says and your eyes widen when you see your son hold up the jar precariously with his chubby hands. “Nuh-uh, kid. Not gonna happen.”
Simon tuts at him and easily takes the jar away, but the action must feel like the end of the world to your two-year-old, because he immediately begins to cry.
Like screaming crying.
You should be used to it.
And you are.
How many nights had you dealt with your toddler’s tantrums all by yourself, his father miles away?
But today you’re tired, and your ears are ringing, and frankly you feel like crying yourself when your son starts flailing his arms around, trying to get the jar back.
“No, kid, you can’t have-“
“Simon,” you sigh and shift the baby against your chest, whose starting to wake up. “I’ll take them both outside. You finish getting everything.”
Shaking his head, Simon is already lifting the crying toddler from the cart and firmly telling you, “No, I’ve got it. You just… pick out whatever you want, yeah? Salad is fine.”
You don’t protest.
It’s much easier for Simon to restrain the boy, simply grabbing both of his wrists in one hand so he can’t hit. And holds him against his hip as he makes his way outside.
Seven years with Simon and he’s grown (emotionally) before your eyes. He had to learn how to safely express love, and it took time, but now he knows exactly how to love you, your kids. Shows it in patient words and gentle fingertips and constant acts of service.
Sure, there are moments where he gets frustrated (particularly when the boy tries to hit his little sister).
But Simon knows how to just be quiet and calm and let his son feel what he needs to feel. Because had anyone ever let him do that as a kid? Had anyone ever taken him outside during a tantrum, sit on a bench and hold him close, rubbing his back?
“It’s okay to feel angry,” Simon murmurs to his son. His cheeks red and puffy. “I’ve got ya. I’m here.”
The boy slurs out babble that Simon’s trained ears recognize as “want it”.
“Right,” his father sighs low. “I know what you mean, kid. Get proper mad when I don't get what I want," and he brushes a thumb to his cheek, "But we've got to find something that helps us stay calm, yeah?"
Simon doesn’t scold your son. Doesn’t tell him it’s okay, because he understands that it might not feel that way. Doesn’t even give a shit that the crying is drawing attention from people. Simon just sits on the bench with him and lets the tantrum happen.
And as your son’s tantrum fades into sniffles and little hands twisting around in his father’s shirt, Simon can’t help but think about his own memories. Most of them faded or blacked out now, he still manages to recall a time when he cried like this and his father had pushed his face in the dirt for it.
“I’ll give you something to fucking cry about.”
The words burn in his mind. Catch in his throat and force him to swallow. He used to shut those memories out, keep them buried somewhere underneath gunfire and blood and a mask. But now he welcomes them whenever they surface, learns from them. Reminds himself that he didn’t deserve that treatment and neither do his own kids.
Simon holds the toddler even closer.
Hands splaying over his back and a small kiss to his forehead.
“Look at ya,” Simon mutters out a piece of praise. “Feeling calm, bug? Wanna go back to your mum?”
But the toddler shakes his head no and instead, they sit out there until you’re done with the shopping. When you finally walk out, you see that Simon is smirking in amusement, watching your son sit in his lap and draw his little finger over the skulls inked on his arm. A relaxing activity, perhaps, and the sight of it makes your heart spill over.
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