#calling him lovely names and giving him pets when needed💕 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smileysuh · 3 months

Text

Love Plug

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”

tw/cw. weed/drug use, shotgunning (kissing after John's taken a hit from a joint), reader likes wine, alcohol, plug!Johnny, unprotected sex, oral (f/m receiving) face riding, big dick john, 69-ing, size kink, grinding, multiple reader orgasms, fingering, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, ass groping, hand job, creampie/filling kink, cumming together, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.9k

🍭 aus. plug/drug dealer!Johnny, semi-strangers to lovers, Valentine's Day, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know this is slightly late, as it's Valentine's Day themed, but I hope ya'll like it anyway! big thank you to @sehunniepotwrites, my beta reader, my fellow John lover, my bestie- Love you girlie, thank you for helping me edit this to get it posted on time 💕

Being alone on Valentine’s Day is never fun. It would be one thing if you were with your girlfriends, but today, you’ll truly be alone. Everyone is busy, people are working, or with significant others- you feel like you’re the only person without plans, and it’s driving you completely insane.

Your apartment is spotless, you’d gone on a cleaning bender to distract yourself from today’s date, but as three o'clock rolls in, you find yourself sitting on your couch and staring at the ceiling.

There’d been a time in your life when boredom would make way for addictive traits. Dopamine-filled hobbies that you’ve since done your best to squash. But as three becomes four and you have nothing to satiate yourself - not even the pink bottle of wine in your fridge has been able to drown your loneliness - you begin to consider more drastic measures.

You’d never been a stoner, per se, but you’d gone with your cousin a few times to pick up from her run-of-the-mill dealer. If anything can help you relax and watch a movie, you think it might be some Grade A Indica.

Unknown number: Hi John, are you out today?

John: define out. Who is this

Unknown number: shit

Unknown number: my cousin gave me your number, I’ve picked up from you a few times

Unknown number: You probably don’t remember me but my name is y/n

John: I remember you

John: how much do you need?

Unknown number: I’m thinking $100 worth?

John: I’ll bring my shit. Text me your address and I can be over within the hour

Usually, when your cousin has gotten in contact with John, he comes to her apartment and the two of you go outside, filing into his truck. He has a duffle with jars full of weed, shatter, and the like. You give him money and he helps you decide what your night is going to look like.

When John calls you half an hour after you’ve texted him, you’re already almost at your door. “I’ll be down in a sec,” you tell him, searching for your keys.

“How about you buzz me up instead?” he suggests. “I’m outside the front door.”

You freeze for a moment. As far as you know, John’s never come up to your cousin’s apartment, and the idea of inviting the sexy local plug up into your one bedroom is sketchy… but at the same time, you’re feeling kind of desperate.

“Okay, type my apartment number into the keypad and I’ll let you in. The elevator will take you to my floor.”

You hang up, and a moment later your phone rings again. You press the buzz-up key and hold your breath.

You’re not sure if you’re scared of being alone with John because he’s a drug dealer or if you’re frightened of your own lack of self-control. John’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen and this is Valentine’s Day. You’d been planning on maybe getting a little high, pulling out your vibrator, and having a good time with yourself… but if you could have a good time with him…

You give your head a shake, reaching for your bottle of wine. You pour the last bit of it into a cup, lifting it to your lips while you wait for the local plug to arrive at your door.

When he knocks, you practically jump, heart lurching in your chest. You scurry to your door, not wanting to make him wait- not wanting any of your neighbors to see the tall, sexy, tattooed man standing outside your home.

John greets you with a grin. “Special delivery,” he jokes, stepping past you and into the apartment and looking around. “You’ve got a nice place.”

“Thank you.”

You watch him head into the living space. He walks as if he’s been here before, as if he belongs here. The duffle makes a thumping sound when he nonchalantly sets it onto your small dining table, but John doesn’t immediately open it to show you the product like he does when you’ve bought from him before.

“Is it just me, or does it feel kind of sad in here?” John asks, turning to look at you.

“Hmm?”

“I just mean…” he gestures around, “spotless house, a pretty girl alone on Valentine’s Day… you haven’t bought from me in a while, sweet thing, I kind of thought you’d quit.”

“I did quit-” you stutter, “I mean… I was never a huge stoner or anything, so I wouldn’t say I quit-”

John grins while watching you search for an explanation. He leans back, palms flat on the dining table. The black v-neck he’s wearing shows off some of his chest piece and the tattoos on his neck are definitely a distraction as you try to formulate words.

“Look, all I’m saying is… I’d hate for you to lose your sobriety streak because you’re feeling lonely on Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m not exactly sober,” you scoff, reaching for your glass of wine.

“Is that a rosé?”

You look down at the liquid. “It’s a pink strawberry sparkling wine.”

“Sounds nice. Give me a taste.” He holds out a hand, and it’s clear that it’s more of a demand than a request, so with a sigh, you hand your cup to the local plug.

John swirls the glass, then he lifts it to his lips. He doesn’t sip, doesn’t take his time, he simply tilts his head back and downs the wine in two large gulps. When he’s done, he wipes his hand across his mouth, grinning mischievously. “Yummy.”

“That was the last of it,” you groan. “Now I have to hit the liquor store too.”

“Is it usual for you to get crossed, sweet thing? Weed and wine? You must really be feeling some type of way today.”

“So says the drug dealer working on Valentine’s Day.” You roll your eyes, annoyed that he’d downed your whole glass and isn’t cutting to the chase of your transaction.

“Ouch,” John laughs. “When did you get such a mouth on you?”

“Since you just drank an entire cup of wine in two seconds and started talking about my sobriety streak- are you going to sell me some weed or not?”

“For a girl with nowhere to be, you sound like you’re in a rush,” John muses. “You want to get me out of your home that badly, huh?”

“I mean, I would have preferred meeting you at your car,” you admit.

John simply shrugs. “And I wanted to see how dire your situation was. Clearly, it’s pretty fucked. Listen, we can still go down to my car if you want.”

“Will you sell me the weed if I go with you?”

“Nah, but I can take you out for a drink instead.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and your mind does mental gymnastics to make sense of the suggestion.

Is he asking you out?

Finally, you ask, “Aren’t you working?”

“The good thing about being your own boss is you can always say fuck it, I wanna go to a bar,” John points out. “So are you going to come with me and let me distract you better than weed would? Or are you going to mope around here with no wine, no weed, and no sexy plug to make you feel better?”

You definitely have a sexy plug or two hidden away under your bed that could make your day better- but you don’t tell John that. Instead, you let out a sigh. “I guess I have nothing better to do.”

“That’s the spirit, sweet thing, now let’s go on an adventure.”

The place he takes you to is a complete dive. It’s a dark ambiance, and as you settle onto a bar stool, you notice the stickiness of the counter in front of you. John, however, seems completely at home here. He doesn’t mind the alcohol-stained wood, leaning over it to speak to the bartender over the loud rock music that plays through the establishment. “Two shots of the regular,” he announces.

“You got it, Johnny,” she laughs, turning to grab a bottle of whiskey from one of the higher shelves.

“So I guess I don’t have to ask if you come here often,” you breathe.

“And I don’t have to ask if you’ve been here before. You stick out like a sore thumb, sweet thing. Relax a little.”

You let out a sigh. “Are we really going to do whiskey shooters?”

“I’m buying so I’m choosing,” John insists. “But if you want a cocktail or something, you can get that too, on me.”

So instead of taking your money today, he’s spending his money on you.

John is an enigma, and the confusion you feel has you more curious than ever.

“So how’d a guy like you get into your line of work?” you ask.

“He’s eighteen, gets stupid tattoos on his neck and hands, is rejected from other lines of work, and then discovers he has a talent for growing the best weed in town,” John responds. “Although, between you and me, I’m pretty good at growing orchids too.”

You had not pegged him as a plant guy. He’s always seemed so one-dimensional, and you realize now that your stereotype of him had been wrong. You’d never have thought John was the one actually growing the product he sells, and the idea of him nursing an orchid - a famously difficult flower - has your heart softening.

The bartender returns, setting two shots in front of you and John. “How’s your day going, Hyuna?” John asks, picking up a conversation with her.

“It’s going,” she sighs.

“Ouch, that doesn’t sound good,” John muses, pushing one of the shooters in front of you. “I thought you were seeing that new guy- the finance bro. Figured you’d be with him today.”

“I’m not sure he’s the commitment type.” Hyuna brushes her long dark hair over a shoulder, looking between you and John. “Besides, someone has to run this lonely hearts club here. You’re ruining the single vibe by bringing a date.”

“My bad for not introducing her, by the way,” John grins. His arm comes around the back of your chair, and he pulls you closer. “This is sweet thing, I’m saving her from making bad decisions today.”

“Yeah? And how are you doing that?” Hyuna laughs.

“By substituting one drug for another.” John picks up his shooter, turning to you. “To bad decisions.”

With a sigh, you grab your own shot, lifting it to clink against John’s. “To bad decisions,” you echo.

The whiskey is like fire as you shoot it, and you have to do your best not to sputter from how bad it tastes. You feel your face scrunch up involuntarily, and it earns laughs from Hyuna and John.

“I think we can all agree Johnny’s taste in alcohol is a bad decision,” Hyuna muses. “What can I get you, sweet thing?”

You order your drink of choice. John asks for three more shooters. When Hyuna sets them all down in front of you, John holds one out to her. “This one’s for you. I’m sorry it’s not working out with finance bro.”

Hyuna assesses the shot, then, with a groan, she grabs it. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“No one’s gonna care,” John insists. “And we both know your manager is in love with you. Just take the shot, babes.”

Hyuna rolls her eyes and downs the drink. She sets the glass down, her perfectly manicured black nails dragging along it momentarily. “You and your annoying tastes.”

“You’ll learn to love this,” John assures her. “You learned to love me, right?”

“After I got over how annoying you are.”

John only laughs. He downs another shot, bringing his total to three. Then he stands up abruptly. “Vape break,” he announces. “You girls better not have too much fun without me.”

You watch him leave, sipping on your cocktail.

“So how did you two meet?” Hyuna asks, half turning to remove some glasses from the washer so she can polish them while you chat.

You lean forward, whispering, “He’s literally my plug.”

“John’s everyone’s plug,” Hyuna laughs.

“How about you? He’s a regular?”

“Yeah, but I also dated his sister once upon a time,” Hyuna explains. “He was her annoying kid brother. I did my best to be nice to him but things didn’t end so well with her- then three years later he came in here, all tattooed and wreaking of weed- He recognized me right away, and he’s been coming in here ever since. Tips good too.”

You’d been wondering about the specificities of their relationship. Hyuna’s gorgeous, like- one of the prettiest bartenders you’ve ever seen. Her lean arms are covered in intricate tattoos, her nails are filed to points, her hair is perfect, her cheekbones are prominent and her lips are puffy like pillows-

Who wouldn’t have a crush on her?

“He’s an interesting guy,” you muse finally.

“Don’t let his tattoos fool you,” Hyuna says, meeting your eye. “He’s a sweetheart. He just likes to look all tough because of his job.”

You consider what she’s just said.

“So…” your throat feels a little dry. “Does he often come in here with girls?”

“Never. And especially not on Valentine’s Day.” Hyuna sets a cup down, leaning over the bar top to get a good look at you. “So tell me, sweet thing, what’s the end goal here?”

“Hmm?”

“Johnny might be an annoying plug, but like I said, he’s a good guy. I’m not dating his sister anymore, but he’s still like a kid brother to me. I don’t want to see him get hurt.” There’s a beat of silence. “He’s giving you heart eyes, and he let you choose your own drink. John doesn’t even let me choose my own drink once in a blue moon when we go out. He’s also never cared about what drugs I do, so why does he care so much about you? What makes you so special?”

“I…” you set your cocktail down. “I really can’t answer that.”

Hyuna cocks her head, pursing her lips. “Girl to girl, don’t be a bitch to him. I’m the one he’s going to come crying to if you reject him really hard. Let him down softly, if you have to.”

“Honestly, girl to girl, I don’t even know if he’s into me that way.”

“Sweet thing,” Hyun scoffs, “you must be blind as a bat. Don’t you see the way he’s looking at you?”

“I sort of thought he was just horny for Valentine’s Day.”

The bartender lets out a barking laugh. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”

Your lips part to respond, but the door to the bar opens and John comes back inside. He lumbers over with a grin, taking the seat next to you. His arm slides around the back of your chair and he leans forward, looking between you and Hyuna. “So what did I miss?”

“Nothing important,” Hyuna lies.

“In that case, I think I’m going to order a-”

“You’re aware that at some point I’ll have to take your keys away, right?” Hyuna raises a brow at John. “I just gave you three shots, you have one sitting in front of you still-”

“We both know I’m a heavyweight,” John insists.

“Sure you are,” Hyuna rolls her eyes, “and your skin is naturally pink.”

You assess John. Hyuna must have good vision, because in the shitty lighting of the bar, you can hardly tell that John has definitely flushed from the alcohol. His cheeks are a rosy hue, and he looks as boyish as ever, a stark contradiction to the neck tattoos that are also beginning to blossom with color.

“How about this… two more shots,” John bargains, holding up three fingers.

Hyuna scoffs loudly.

“How about… two more shots,” John continues to hold three fingers, “And I’ll buy dessert so my body doesn’t turn into a complete whiskey barrel.”

“Two desserts and you have a deal,” Hyuna sighs.

“Two desserts it is.” John sits back in his chair. “What are you thinking, sweet thing? This place has a really good brownie, although, there's no weed in it.”

“We’ve also got apple pie with ice cream, tiramisu from the Italian place next door-” Hyuna does her best to be helpful, and you’re beginning to appreciate the tough love elder sister act thing she has going on.

You order the dessert that sounds most to your liking, and as you wait, John begins to ask about your cousin. “She’s a trooper,” he muses. “I sold her this massive thing of mushrooms last week and she texted me like two days ago asking for more.”

“She’s a heavy hitter for sure,” you agree.

“She told me once that she only does things like weed and shrooms because they come from the Earth,” John continues. “Never asks for links to cocaine or MDMA or anything- just the Earthy shit. She told me it’s cuz she’s a Taurus.”

You laugh. “That’s my cousin.”

“It was interesting meeting you for the first time,” John continues. “Your cousin gets into the car, knows exactly what strains of weed she wanted- pretty sure she was buying shatter. And there you are, asking for a blunt. Didn’t know if you wanted indica or sativa or a hybrid…” John shakes his head, as if it was the most baffling experience in the world. “In the end, I gave you some indica. Could tell you had a lot of anxiety and shit. I was kind of happy when you stopped buying, I’d hoped you’d found some other outlets or something.”

“I picked up wine,” you say, only half joking.

“Look, on our way back to your place to drop you off, I’ll stop and pick up a bottle for you to make up for what I drank earlier, deal?”

“Deal.”

John grins, and then you see his hand dipping down into his pocket. “Vape break.”

You watch John lumber outside again, and you release a deep sigh, meeting Hyuna’s eye. “Boys and their vapes.”

Dessert had helped mellow John out somewhat, and he’d actually been pretty law abiding while driving to the liquor store after. The two of you are now walking around the aisles, with John asking you all sorts of questions about your preferences when it comes to booze.

It feels shockingly domestic, especially when people go to move past you and John’s hand finds the small of your back, gently prompting you in front of him to make way for others to go by.

“What if I get us two bottles, and you let me come up for a movie,” John suggests as you reach for a replacement wine from earlier.

“What sort of movie?” you ask.

“Anything you want.”

“Are you sure I’m the only lonely one today?” you tease. “You’re being pretty clingy, John.”

“Anxious girls love a man that clings,” the plug insists. “Here, I’ll sweeten the pot for my sweet thing. Three bottles of wine, on me, and I’ll hand roll a blunt that will blow your socks off.”

“What happened to not wanting me to lose my no-weed streak?”

“I never said I’d let you smoke it, I just said I’d hand roll it and you’d be super impressed by my skills.”

You let out a laugh. It’s shocking how much your opinion of him has changed in a few short hours. You can’t believe how comfortable he’s making you feel.

“Fine. Three bottles,” you agree.

John grabs two more to join the one in your hand, and you head to the checkout. As you’re waiting in line, his phone rings, and he brings it to his ear.

“Hey, Mark…” John’s eyes meet yours. “I mean, I’m kind of busy… You really need it huh? Okay, give me a sec.” The plug presses his phone to his chest. “I’ve got a buddy who wants to link up. He lives pretty close by. It would take like… ten or fifteen minutes max. You good with that?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Sounds okay.”

John lifts his phone back to his ear. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes. You better be waiting outside though, I told you I’m busy.”

A short while later, you’re sitting in the front passenger’s seat of John’s truck as he pulls up in front of an apartment building. A man in a hoodie and baseball cap is standing there, and he quickly gets into the back, giving you an odd look.

“Mark, this is sweet thing. Sweet thing, this is Mark,” John says smoothly.

“Dude. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

John ignores the comment. “How much are you spending today?”

“Five hundred.” Mark pulls a wad of bills out of his pocket.

“The usual?” John asks, reaching down for the duffle by your feet.

“Half shrooms, quarter indica flower, quarter butter or shatter, whatever you think is best today.”

“You got it.” John sets the duffle gently on your lap, rifling through it. He begins to pull things out, like a jar full of weed. As John sections it off into bags, Mark leans forward to get a better look at you.

“Sorry for interrupting your plans,” he says sheepishly.

“That’s okay,” you assure him.

“You guys up to anything fun?”

“Movie night,” John answers, tossing a baggie of weed back at his friend.

“Nice.” Mark nods to himself, waiting patiently.

Soon, John’s fulfilled the order. Mark hands the cash to the plug, and with one final nod and half smile, he gets out of the car.

“So…” John’s hand returns to the wheel. “Movie night?”

You’re two glasses of wine into the movie when John begins to roll a joint. He’s seated next to you on the couch, his thigh just touching yours as he bends over the coffee table. For a guy with such large hands, he’s more adept than you would have thought he’d be at the fine-tuned movements needed to make the perfect joint.

You’re more enthralled by him than the movie at this point, and you can’t help the way your body reacts when he lifts up his nearly finished product to swipe his tongue across the paper. He seals the joint masterfully before turning to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna pop onto your deck for a moment to smoke this.”

“I’ll join you,” you tell him immediately, pausing the movie to stand up.

You follow him outside, momentarily taken aback by how cold it’s gotten.

John pulls a lighter out of his pocket, and after one sharp flick, he begins to smoke the joint.

You like the way his jaw looks in the shadows of light from the deck lamp. He’s so handsome and regal-

The cloud of smoke he exhales is bigger than anything you’d ever be able to do yourself, and even that is sexy in some odd way.

“You’re really not going to give me a hit?” you ask.

“Nope.” John looks at you with a lazy expression and a half smile. “You’re the good girl, and I’m the bad guy, remember.”

“Bad guy,” you scoff.

“Why are you laughing, sweet thing? I’m a plug with tattoos. I’m bad.”

“You’re a softie.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Says who?”

“Says me,” you insist.

“Yeah? And how do you figure?”

You think about it for a moment before responding. “You’ve taken care of me today… even though you didn’t have to.”

“Well, I wanted to.” John takes another puff, blowing it in your face. “It was pretty self-serving actually.”

You roll your eyes, waving away the smoke. “Sure it was, John.”

“Johnny,” he says quietly. “Call me Johnny.”

You stare at him, taking in his pretty face, the way his perfect lips wrap around the joint when he takes a puff. “Johnny… be for real. Why are you here?”

He lets out a laugh, but there’s little humor in it. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You shake your head, holding your breath while you wait for him to elaborate.

Johnny sighs. “Look. I’ve always liked you. I liked having you come around, needing an explanation about weed, and joints versus blunts, and indica versus sativa- it was like… it was like having a little bit of sunshine every once in a while. Then you stopped buying, and I was happy about that, but I also wasn’t. Hadn’t heard from you in months, didn’t have your number, couldn’t ask your cousin about you- you texted, and it’s Valentine’s Day, and I came up and saw you were alone- and… I don’t know… I just hate missed opportunities, and I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”

You’re really not sure what to say. His demeanor is usually kind of joking, he’s the type to always have a smile- but right now, he’s not smiling, not joking- he’s being dead serious.

“I’m happy I messaged you.” You feel stupid as the words leave your lips, but they bring back Johnny’s boyish grin.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh,” you step closer, looking up at the tall plug. “Thanks for taking me out for drinks.”

“It would have been a crime to leave a sweet thing like you alone on Valentine’s Day, and trust me, I know all about crime.”

God, he’s such a goof. Why is he so endearing?

“Do you know about shotgunning?” you ask.

Johnny’s brows furrow for a second. “I’m shocked you know about shotgunning.”

“Do you wanna try it?”

The plug looks you up and down. “Is this a ploy to get at my joint?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head.

Johnny leans forward, meeting your eyes as his lips almost brush past your own. “Liar.”

He pulls away, slotting the joint in his mouth. He watches you while taking a long drag. Then he’s removing the joint and bending down again, meeting your gaze.

You lean forward, reaching to gently grab at his shoulders. Your heart is racing a million miles a minute in your chest, and you do your best to exhale, although it comes out shaky.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

Johnny doesn’t have to be told twice, he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours in an open-mouthed kiss. He exhales the smoke into your lungs and you do your best to breathe it in, but Johnny’s so much bigger than you, and you have to pull away before he’s completely finished his breath.

You sputter a little, feeling tears in your eyes. There’s a rush through your body, and you feel a little wobbly, but your grip on Johnny keeps you standing.

“John-” As soon as you’ve recovered, he’s kissing you again, but this time, it’s not for the purpose of shotgunning.

This time, he’s kissing you like he means it.

Like he needs it.

His large hand cups your cheek, and he releases a soft groan when you kiss him back, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders to pull him closer.

He tastes like weed and wine, and oddly enough it’s not a bad combination. As his tongue swipes past your lip and you open your mouth for him, you find yourself releasing a groan of pleasure.

Johnny returns the sound. In the periphery, you’re aware of him flicking the joint to the ground in favour of grabbing you with both hands. First, he cups your hips, pulling you flush against him, but after a moment, he reaches down to squeeze your ass too.

You go for a breather, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your throat, teasing his tongue against your skin and making you shiver in the cold evening air.

“You know…” you thread your fingers through his hair, “if you won’t give me drugs to use for happy chemicals, the least you could do is give me an orgasm.”

Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look at you with eyes that somehow sparkle. “I thought that was a given, sweet thing.”

“It better be,” you tease, cupping the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours again.

This time, when the kiss deepens and Johnny bends down to cup your ass, he lifts you off the ground, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. He pushes the door open behind you, taking you back inside.

You’re so lost in his lips you almost don’t realize he’s moved past your couch, and then he’s gently laying you onto your bed. “So how do you like it?” he asks, pulling away so he can tear his hoodie and shirt off, revealing a toned chest, and all the tattoos you’ve been itching to see.

“I like it any way you want to give it to me. Dealers choice.”

Johnny lets out a laugh. “You’re cute.”

“You’re cute,” you retort, hooking your fingers in his belt to draw him closer again.

Johnny presses a hand to the bed by your head, bending over you so he can kiss you. Your thighs wrap around him, pulling him fully on top of you while you’re locked in the hottest tongue battle of your life.

He’s just so big and sexy- the weight of him is enough to have you gasping, even though he’s still holding himself up with his elbow now propped into the bed.

His free hand finds your hip, slipping under your shirt to trace your skin. Each brush of his fingers builds the fire in the pit of your stomach, and as he slowly moves to grasp your breast, you find yourself almost dying with need for him.

You whimper lewdly against his lips, pushing your chest up toward his palm. With a bra in the way, you can’t get the proper stimulus against your nipple, and within moments of him massaging your tits, you begin to tear your shirt off, needing more.

Johnny helps you remove the fabric, tossing it to the side so his mouth can find your throat. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, reaching under you to undo the clasp of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

“Yeah, fuck- let's get naked.”

Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look down at you. “You sure you didn’t drink too much wine, sweet thing?”

“I’m mostly sober.”

“And that shotgunning didn’t make you needy?”

“You make me needy,” you insist, cupping his face. “You know how you said you were into me months ago? When we first met, I swear I thought you were the sexiest plug I’d ever seen.”

“Probably the only plug you’d ever seen,” Johnny points out with a grin.

“John,” you meet his gaze, “earlier, when you first got here, I wasn’t even sure if I should invite you up. I was worried I’d lose my self-control and jump you or something- trust me, the physical attraction has always been there, but… getting to know you today, I like who you are inside too… so, just fuck me, yeah?”

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to us lonely hearts, huh?”

Instead of answering, you kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair. Johnny groans when you tug gently, and he grinds his hips down against your own. You can feel the bulge of his cock as it drags against your core, and you’re pretty sure your panties are going to be ruined after this.

You can’t help yourself, you trace your hand down from his shoulders to his chest, then his abdomen- then you cup his cock, applying pressure that has him moaning again, thrusting against your hand for friction.

“I think I kind of want you in my mouth,” you admit breathlessly.

“That’s funny, I want you in mine.”

You think about it for a moment. “Sixty-nine?”

“Fuck, you’re a girl after my own heart, aren’t you, sweet thing?”

You can only grin, heart thundering in your chest as you push at Johnny’s shoulders, prompting him to roll onto his back.

“You take off your pants, and I’ll take off mine,” you suggest, getting off of him so you can work on your jeans.

Johnny doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch the way his muscles ripple under his skin as he hurries to get naked.

He’d never actually taken off your bra, so you do that yourself. In moments, you’re both completely nude.

You stare at Johnny, taking in his cock.

He’s rock-hard and huge. It makes you excited, but you’re also not sure how well you’ll be able to take him. He must be at least seven or eight inches, and thick too, with a pretty mushroom tip that’s already leaking precum.

He grins at your reaction. “Think you can handle this, sweet thing?”

“Something tells me you’ll make it fit.”

“You got that right,” he laughs. “Now come sit on my face, wanna taste that pretty pussy.”

There’s something so suave about half-baked Johnny. He speaks with an almost melodic tone, it’s deep and sensual, and your pussy throbs just from the words coming out of his mouth.

As you crawl onto the bed, getting into position, his hands are careful against your form, helping you settle as you swing a thigh over his head, hovering your core over his mouth. Instead of waiting for you to sit down, Johnny lifts himself up a little, burying his face in your pussy before you can even touch his cock.

“Fuck-” you whimper, grabbing the base of his length as he pushes his tongue deep inside of you, licking the length of your slit.

You would love nothing more than to enjoy his mouth on you for hours- but you have your own job to do, and you’re already drooling. You bring his mushroom tip to your lips, gently licking at him.

Johnny’s large hands find your ass, and he squeezes you gently. “No teasing,” he mumbles, and the vibration against your clit has you squirming down on his face.

You take him into your mouth, sucking on the tip and twirling your tongue. Johnny immediately releases a groan before diving back into your pussy. He grabs your hips pulling you down tighter against his face.

It’s hard to know what to focus on. He feels so good with his mouth worshiping your pussy, but at the same time, you’re kind of obsessed with sucking his cock. He’s so huge, and you want to see how much you can take. You sink further onto his length, feeling your lips stretch at the intrusion-

God, he’s going to absolutely wreck your pussy. You can’t even fit half of him in your mouth before he’s hitting the back of your throat, and as you constrict around him, he releases lewd sounds of pleasure that have your core practically throbbing with need.

You pull off of him, if only to collect your saliva as lube so you can stroke what your mouth can’t reach. Taking a breath and steadying yourself, you grind gently against his tongue, moaning loudly. Then you take him past your lips again, getting lost in the act of simultaneous giving and receiving.

You’re lost in him, so lost that you don’t even know how long you’ve been in this position- but you can feel an orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach every time Johnny focuses on your clit.

You find yourself grinding harder against his face, and as the feeling builds, you can’t help but pull off of his cock, gasping and moaning. “Fuck, Johnny, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me,” he groans, squeezing your ass as he kitten licks your clit. “Don’t hold back. Cum on my face, sweet thing, give me everything.”

You’re stroking his cock mindlessly, your muscles tensing as Johnny takes your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking-

“Oh my God-” you whimper, toes curling-

Your orgasm washes over you like a wave. It tingles through every inch of your being, throbbing out from your core. You and Johnny both release groans of satisfaction, and the knowledge that he’s enjoying having you cum on his face only makes your pussy clench tighter.

You’re practically riding his tongue now, chasing the last inklings of your high until you’re absolutely breathless.

Johnny presses one last kiss to your clit, and then he’s tapping your ass gently. “Gonna roll onto your back and let me fuck you like the good girl you are?”

“God, yes,” you groan. Your legs are shaky but you get off of Johnny’s face, collapsing next to him.

“Damn, sweet thing, that was a good one, huh?” Johnny laughs, sitting up and stroking your thigh.

“So good,” you whimper, still feeling the aftershocks.

Johnny gets between your legs, elbow pressing into the bed next to your head as he dips close to kiss your neck. “The way you were grinding against my face was so fucking hot.”

“Johnny-” You wrap your legs around him, feeling absolutely desperate for his cock.

“You’ll have to be a little patient for me, sweet thing,” Johnny sighs, one large hand cupping your breast and teasing past your nipple. “I’ve gotta stretch you out before you can take me.”

“What if I want you now?”

“Like I said,” his breath is hot against your throat, “you’ll have to be patient.”

“What if I want you to wreck me?”

Johnny laughs, pulling away to look at you. “You’re not as innocent as you look, are you, angel?”

You trace your fingers along the fine line, black and white, Japanese Oni mask tattoo that sits on his chest between his defined pectoral muscles. “Not when it comes to you.”

The plug simply grins at your words, his hand trailing down until it reaches your core. Two thick fingers prod at your opening, and you spread your legs even wider to accommodate him. He teasingly dips the first digit inside of you and you release a moan at how good it feels, but he’s quick to pull it out and circle your clit.

“You know what you said earlier?”

He lets out a humming sound.

“About not teasing?” you correct. “If you’re making me wait for you to prep me, you better not take your sweet time with it.”

“You’ll have to let me take my time with you next time then.”

“Next time?” You cock a brow.

“Yeah,” Johnny ghosts his lips over your own. “Next time.”

“Deal, now finger fuck me open then give me your cock.”

“Jesus, I love it when you talk dirty,” Johnny groans, dipping his finger into your core again. “Tell me more.”

“You just feel so fucking good,” you groan, swiveling your hips. “Even one finger- you’re just so big- Johnny, how are you so big?”

“You haven’t really experienced the Big yet,” John points out, adding a second digit that he scissors inside of you, stretching you out for him.

In response, you reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him gently. “I’m gonna feel you inside me for days after this.”

“Especially if you let me fuck you tomorrow, and the day after- you could feel me forever if you wanted to.”

“Forever, huh?” You let out a whimper as his digits work harder inside of you, crooking up to stroke your g spot with shocking precision.

“I’m still a little high, it’s making me… too honest.”

“I like honest,” you admit, cupping his face with your free hand, drawing his lips to yours. “I like you.”

“I like you too,” he whispers, kissing you deeper as he finger fucks you faster. “Okay, sweet thing, I think you’re just about ready for me- dripping all over my hand.”

“I’m ready,” you assure him, staring into those beautiful chocolate-brown eyes.

“Should I grab a condom?”

“Are you clean?”

“Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t fuck around that often. I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy.”

You giggle. “I’ve sort of noticed that.”

He kisses you again. “I can still grab a condom though.”

“No, I’m on birth control. I want you to fill me up with cock and cum until it’s all I can think about.”

“I can do that.” Johnny pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and before he can lick them clean, you grab his wrist and guide them to your own mouth. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, angel.”

You groan around his digits, sucking them clean. When you’re done, Johnny grabs your jaw, drawing your lips to his so he can taste you, his tongue gliding against your own.

You’ve still got his cock in your hand, and you pump him gently, adjusting against the blanket to get closer to him so you can guide his tip toward your core.

Johnny takes the hint, and he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His gaze dips to where your bodies meet, and he allows you most of the control as you drag his cock through your folds. “You really want this?”

“Just fuck me, John. Please don’t make me beg.”

He pushes forward, the tip of his cock sheathing in your tight core. “Holy shit,” Johnny groans.

“More.”

Johnny can only laugh, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he thrusts deeper into you. The two of you hold your breath as inch after inch stretches you open. You’re so wet, and it makes the process easier, but you can still feel Johnny everywhere.

You’re a wriggling, moaning mess by the time he’s fully inside of you.

Johnny’s breath is hot against your skin, and his chest is rising and falling with effort, his bicep bulging next to your head. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.

“Can I-”

“Rail me. Break my back. Murder my pussy.”

Johnny laughs, pressing his lips to yours to shut you up as he begins to move his hips, pulling out only to thrust back in. You can feel your insides practically quivering with each drag of his length against your walls. He’s so big, and you’re stretched to the brink- the vein along the underside of his cock is an added stimulus that has your toes curling already.

You’ll never be the same after this.

No one’s cock is ever going to compare and you just know it.

Johnny’s lips can’t muffle the sounds of pleasure still escaping you, and you grab at his broad shoulders, tracing your nails against his skin.

It’s so easy to get lost in Johnny. He makes you feel safe, and the pleasure he’s giving you has time flying by like nothing else. Johnny’s mouth goes to your throat, teasing the spot that has you moaning even louder.

“Can I flip you over? Wanna see that ass.”

“Do anything you want with me,” you tell him, and you mean it.

With one last kiss, Johnny pulls out of you. His large hands find your hips. He manhandles you over, pulling your ass back and up so he can push into you again.

“Fuck,” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets. “You’re even deeper like this-”

Each time his front meets your ass, the slapping sound turns you on even more. He’s practically rearranging your guts like this, and you don’t mind it one bit.

“Do you wanna rub your clit for me, sweet thing?” Johnny asks. “You’re so fucking tight around me, and I’m so sensitive when I smoke- not sure I’ll be able to last long, and I want you to cum with me. Wanna feel this pretty pussy all clenched and dripping-”

Every word has your body tingling, and you bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles.

“Johnny-” you whimper.

“That’s it, angel. You feel so fucking good- so fucking good for me.” He grabs fistfuls of your ass, squeezing in a way that has you crying out. “Who’s my good girl?”

“Me!”

“Who’s taking this cock so fucking good?”

“Me!”

“Fuck-” Johnny lets go of your ass, wrapping a hand around your throat. He helps lift you up until your back is curved, shoulders pressed to his chest. His lips find your neck, hand dipping down to grasp your breast roughly, pinching your nipple.

“I’m gonna-”

“I know, sweet thing, me too-” He’s fucking into you like a god damned fuck machine, and each circle of your fingers on your clit has you closer and closer to the edge- “Fuck, okay, I’m there- shit, yeah, I’m there- you’re gonna cum with me, right? Gonna cum on my cock and let me fill you up?”

All you can do is whimper, your body fulfilling his ask before your brain can even fully process it. Your core clamps down hard on his cock, and Johnny releases a deep groan in your ear. He holds you close, squeezing you as his thrusts get erratic.

You can feel him cumming deep inside of you, and you’ve never felt this cock drunk in your life.

Nothing matters except Johnny and his huge cock filling you up to the brink. His lips are hot on your throat, and he fucks you through your highs, your pussy fluttering around him as wave upon wave of pleasure rocks through you.

As you both finish, he pushes himself fully inside of you. You can feel his cock throbbing, and his groans are music to your ears.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispers, letting out a soft laugh as he nuzzles against your cheek.

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” you giggle, grabbing the hand on your breast and lifting it to your lips so you can kiss his palm.

He holds you for a few more moments, then he gently lowers you to the bed, cock still inside of you. “I’m gonna pull out,” he says, smoothing a hand over your ass. “You don’t mind if I watch it drip out of you for a second, right?”

“I’m just laying here,” you smile against the quilt.

Even so, it feels like a loss as he takes his cock out of your aching pussy. His hands are on your ass and he spreads your cheeks. “Fuck, sweet thing. This is the prettiest view in the whole fucking world.”

When you’d texted Johnny earlier for a link-up, you’d never expected this. Never expected to see this softer side of him.

You’re so fucking happy you reached out- he provided more than what you’d asked for.

“I busted a fat load in you, angel,” Johnny laughs, his thumb moving to rub your clit, causing you to whine and push back against him. “How about we go for a shower. I can wash you up, eat you out some more-”

“Damn, Johnny, are you pussy drunk?”

“Uh huh.” He leans over you, kissing up your spine and to your shoulder. “Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet, we should make the most out of it, right?”

You get the sneaking suspicion that you’re going to be making the most out of it with Johnny for many days to come, Valentine’s Day be damned. God. Your cousin is going to have a freak when she hears about this.

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know it's late by three days but this John still has me in the Valentine's Day spirit

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🔮 preview. “You’ll like this. You always like this. You love cumming on my cock. But you don’t get my cum unless I get yours, that’s the deal, right?”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, grinding on his thigh, hand job, oral (m receiving) blow job, he spits in y/n’s mouth, spit as lube, masturbation, y/n touches herself while blowing Johnny, fingering masturbation, y/n rides his cock, multiple reader orgasms, praise, gentle degradation, dirty talk, breast worship/tit sucking, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

You’ve gotten accustomed to your plug boyfriend. You’d only been dating for a month when he’d officially asked you to be his, but you know the two of you were exclusive to each other since that very first night you’d fucked.

Being with John is pretty easy- but his odd work schedule can be a bit of a pain. He never knows how busy he’s going to be, so you can plan date nights, but sometimes he has to push it back a few hours to do unexpected late-night deliveries.

If you’d been cock drunk for him after the first time he’d fucked you, you’re even more dependent on him now.

No drug in the world could fill you up and give you the pleasure that Johnny’s cock does, and you’ve become a little impatient when you have to wait for him to complete deliveries… although, you’d never bring it up with him

You know being a plug is his job. It’s what pays the bills and allows him to dote on you in ways you’d scarcely been able to imagine before meeting him.

Even so, you can feel your skin crawling, pussy practically aching with anticipation as he completes the last handful of orders for the night. He’d initially wanted to be over at your place by seven, but it’s nearly ten now, and you’re three hours behind on the fuck marathon you’d planned.

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strangersmunsons · 3 months

Text

Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 6 Prompt: Conversation Hearts 💕 ~ 2,300 words Eddie teases you because he thinks your crush on him is hilarious, but you don’t find it very funny.

A tiny, hard, unidentified object thwacks! against the back of your head.

“Ow!” You spin on your heel to confront the culprit, and…are actually not that surprised to see Eddie Munson standing there, smirking at you.

You rub the back of your head. “What was that?”

Wordlessly, Eddie holds up a small pink box. Conversation hearts. Of course.

You turn back around and keep walking, staring determinedly ahead, but he matches your pace. He strolls next to you down the hallway, nonchalant as can be, like he doesn’t have some trick up his sleeve to pester you with. When his arm brushes against yours, you shift subtly away, not wanting to touch him.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate, now is it?

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you mumble back instinctively, the need to mind your manners overpowering your need to avoid engaging with Eddie Munson at any cost.

“So? Who’s the lucky fella taking you out tonight?”

There isn’t one. “None of your business.”

“Aw, come on, Princess. You gotta tell me who my competition is.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks. “That’s not funny.”

He pouts at you.

You abruptly veer off to the left and duck into the restroom; you don’t want to hear what he has to say next.

“Hey! Where ya going?”

You shut yourself into a stall and lean with your back against the door, eyes squeezed shut. Why couldn’t he just leave you be? Was it not enough for him to simply not reciprocate your feelings? He had to go out of his way to tease you about the stupid crush you have on him, too?

Used to have, you think bitterly to yourself, as though there wasn’t any lingering affection embedded deep into your heartstrings.

But it’s not that easy.

Eddie Munson was different. He was rowdy, snarky, and absurdly eloquent for a guy in his third go-round as a senior; he liked to read, he played guitar in a band, and he protected his friends like an attack dog. He worked at a bar and dragged on Lucky Strikes as he walked through the school parking lot, practically stomping across the pavement in his heavy boots.

But still, there was a softness hiding underneath that hard shell. You were sure of it.

Smitten kitten. That was you. Reaching your own senior year, you were finally, finally able to share a class with him. Ms. O’Donnell’s fourth period English became your favorite part of the day, the perfect place to indulge in your silly romantic fantasies, because the leading hero who starred in them was conveniently seated just two desks away.

Which was all fine and dandy for you, until he knew.

You still don’t know how he found out. Did Nancy Wheeler let something slip in front of her brother, Mike, who ran and snitched to his fearless club leader? Or did Eddie somehow glean it from you by sheer intuition?

It was little things at first. Cocky, arrogant smirks aimed directly at you when he came into the room and plopped down in his seat. Cheeky tugs at your hair in the hallway. He hissed your name across the library and pulled goofy faces when you turned to look, wagged his tongue and threw wadded-up balls of paper at you. These actions left you confused, and automatically put you on guard. What did they mean, and why did they start occurring so suddenly?

You weren’t left guessing for long. He quickly got bolder. Eddie was already behaving like a general menace, but then it went beyond the rude gestures and peskiness. He did the unthinkable; he started teasing you mercilessly about your pathetic infatuation.

He chased you in the hallways, calling you mocking pet names and asking when you were going to finally give him a chance. He blew kisses at you when you made eye contact in the cafeteria, pouting at you when you didn’t return them, while his friends all watched the exchange and laughed uproariously.

It was so humiliating you could cry, and you had, many times over. And to think you had liked him because he was supposed to be nice underneath that tough exterior.

You’d rather be on the receiving end of Jason Carver’s poisonous words, or even worse — a repeat of Tommy Hagan’s routine torture from the year prior would be preferable to this.

Having Eddie poke fun at your unrequited love for him was far too much to bear.

You sniffle uncontrollably, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes. You wipe at them furiously with your sleeve, feeling hot with embarrassment. You wish you could hide in here forever, and you almost do — but the late bell rings, and — Goddamn it — you have a quiz. Heaving a shuddery sigh, you walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a sprint to Ms. O’Donnell’s room.

The ornery woman gives you a frown as you enter her class late; you keep your eyes glued to the floor as you scamper to your seat, pointedly ignoring the curious stares of your peers, who are no doubt wondering what’s got you in such a state. Certainly not meeting his gaze, which is trained on you. You can practically feel it.

Quiz papers are passed out, and you can scarcely focus on the questions. You skim and answer as quickly as you can, wanting nothing more than to put your head down and wait for class to end.

The period passes in a blur; you’ve spent most of it watching the clock, telepathically willing the red hand ticking the seconds by to move faster. As soon as the bell rings you’re out of your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder and all but running from the room.

“Hey! Wait up!”

You ignore him, weaving in and out of the crowd of students.

He catches up with you anyway. “What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, for once sounding completely serious as he talks to you. “Why were you crying?”

Tears threaten to well up again. You purse your lips and shake your head as your face starts to crumble. God, you’re so over this whole thing. The teasing and the crying followed by more teasing, and more crying, an endless cycle that left you emotional and on edge every time you had to see him.

“Hey.” He tries to place a ringed hand on your shoulder, a touch that would have had you swooning mere months ago, but you wrench yourself out of his grip, face streaming.

Later at home, your parents are off to dinner, celebrating their own love story. You revel in the luxury of an empty house, taking a long, hot shower, and slipping on your softest pajamas. Ordering your favorite takeout and putting on a comfort movie has you feeling almost okay again; you’re determined that today will be the last day you let Eddie Munson get under your skin, ever.

There’s a rapping at the door. You hop up from the couch and grab the cash your parents set aside for your dinner, pad to the front door, and swing it open with a polite smile plastered on your face.

Except the person standing there is decidedly not a delivery boy with an armful of food, but one Eddie Munson.

Immediately, you try to slam the door shut, but Eddie sticks his foot out before it can close all the way. He yelps in pain as the heavy door squashes his Reebok, but he doesn’t move.

“Oh my God! Is it not enough for you to bully me at school? Now you have to come to my house?! How do you even know where I live?!”

“Wheeler told me your address!” His eyes are wide, alarmed by the ferocity of your reaction. Wincing, he asks, “Can you just talk to me for a second, please? I’m trying to check on you.”

Reluctantly, you ease the pressure you’re putting on his foot. You keep the door half-shut, peering at him from around the jamb. You say nothing, waiting suspiciously.

When it seems to Eddie that you’re not going to deck him, he relaxes a little. “I just wanted to apologize,” he admits, sounding as bashful as Eddie probably ever could. “I guess I upset you earlier today, and I didn’t mean to.” He pauses. “That was because of me, right?”

You sigh. “The fact that you even have to ask…”

His cheeks turn pink, and shuffles his feet nervously. “Look, I’m really sorry. For buggin’ you all the time. I guess…it’s some kind of…wish fulfillment thing for me, or whatever — anyway, it’s stupid, and I’m sorry for doing that to you. I swear I didn’t realize that it upset you so much, otherwise I never would’ve kept doing it.”

Eddie’s grimacing in shame, eyes downcast. He does look awfully sorry, but you’re not quite ready to forgive.

“I just don’t understand why.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble. “You know, you spend so much time fighting the basketball team, or anybody that so much as looks the wrong way at your Hellfire friends. You know what it’s like to get picked on. How could you do that to me? Even for a second?”

Eddie opens his mouth to interject, but you press on.

“If you thought it was funny that I liked you, then fine. You don’t have to like me back. But you don’t need to laugh in my face about it, either.”

He blinks. “I — what?”

“That’s so fucking mean, Eddie, for you to taunt me every single day —”

“You liked me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” you snap back.

“Princess, if you liked me, this is the first I’m hearing about it. I was under the impression that you hated my guts.”

Both of you fall silent, staring at each other intensely. Eddie’s brow is deeply furrowed, full lips parted in wonder.

You falter uncertainly. “I’m…confused.”

His face is a mirror of your own bewilderment. “So am I. You thought I was teasing you…for having a crush on me?”

You suddenly feel very exposed, like someone just walked in on you naked. “Weren’t you?”

“No.”

The words hangs in the air between you for a moment.

“Well, I definitely don’t anymore,” you state defensively, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why did you think that?”

“Because you never looked twice at me and then all of a sudden you — you started calling me Princess and blew me kisses and talked about us going on dates like it was the funniest joke in the world!”

“Did it ever occur to you,” he replies, uncharacteristically quiet, “that I did all those things because I liked you?”

There’s an odd swooping sensation, like stepping for a missing stair.

A small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, though his big doe-eyes still have a tinge of sadness in them. “I — I thought,” he wavers, then tries again, “I kept asking when you would go out with me because I really want you to. Go out with me, I mean.”

“Wish fulfillment,” you mumble, echoing his phrasing from earlier.

“I thought we were playing some kind of game, I guess. I thought you knew the meaning behind it, when I would do all those things. I had no idea I was hurting your feelings. And believe me, I had no clue that you had a crush on me — you’re way out of my league, Princess. I thought I was fighting a losing battle, so I kept hamming it up.”

You’re completely dumbfounded. “You threw papers at me. And pencils. And dice.”

Eddie chuckles nervously, thoroughly embarrassed. “Forgive me. I’ve been held back twice; that’s not really an indicator of a mature brain, is it?” He shrugs. “I wanted you to pay attention to me.”

All the emotional turmoil of the day hits you like a tidal wave. Impossibly, you find yourself getting choked up yet again. “All this time, I thought you were laughing at me.”

“I wasn’t,” he says softly, taking a step towards you. “I swear on my life, I never meant to make you feel this way. God, sweetheart, if I’d have known…” His gaze lingers on your watery eyes, your trembling lips, the way you’re almost hiding from him behind the jamb. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I didn’t see it.”

You swallow harshly. “It’s my own fault, I think. I always jump to conclusions — everyone tells me all the time that I’m too sensitive.”

“You’re not too sensitive,” he reassures you. “You’re sweet, you know? Gentle. That’s all.”

Oh. Eddie Munson thinks you’re gentle.

He cocks his head to the side. “Did it ever even occur to you? That I might have a crush on you, too?”

You laugh in spite of yourself, wiping at a few stray tears. “No.”

“Well, it should have. ‘Cause I did then, and I do right now, too.”

Eddie slips something out of his pocket, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth. He holds out the same box he had earlier: small and pink, still full of pastel candies rattling against the cardboard. He pulls the flap open and shakes a few out into his palm; after looking over his options, he selects a lilac-colored heart and holds it out so you can see the small text. It simply reads: FOR YOU.

“A small token of my affection,” he whispers. “If you want it.”

Without thinking you reach out and grasp his leather-clad forearm, tugging on his sleeve. “Come inside,” you whisper back, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to have him close and warm. “Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

Eddie bows his head. “Whatever you want, Princess.”

He finally crosses the threshold and steps into your arms, swinging the door shut behind him.

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader

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bunny584 · 29 days

Note

Thinking about our boys this fine evening,,

What would their reactions be if you bought them a present?

TURNING TABLES

A/N: My love, I’ve been sitting on this ask for MONTHS. Just chomping at the bit to do it justice. I hope it’s everything you wanted. Enjoy this fluffy fluffy drabble with a lil sprinkle of angst 💕

C/W: Nada, the boys just being adorable. Established relationship. I hope this gives y’all as many delulus as it did me.

GETO

“You’re never going to guess what I got you for your birthday, dimples!”

Your pretty finger digs into the crater in his left cheek that you’re so fond of.

Suguru swallows a grin.

Two things.

One, you’re the only human in this lifetime and the next, who could call him that and wake up the next morning.

Two, he knows exactly what you got him.

Because you’re oblivious in a way that made him fall for you in the first place.

To you, birthdays are sacred. And must be treated like National holidays. All week you’ve been padding around the apartment, glee in your footsteps.

You’ve been staring at him. A whole galaxy in your eyes. Precious little giggles escape you at every turn. Because there’s a secret only you are privy to.

Or so you think.

Suguru has heard you badgering someone over the phone.

“No no, it can’t be purple. His favorite color isn’t purple. It’s indigo. The shade between royal blue and violet. Blue. Indigo. Violet. ROY-G-BIV. Rainbows. Indigo.”

You almost flung your laptop off the balcony two mornings ago.

Instead of just closing the browser displaying shipment confirmation for the silver analogue watch with the indigo face and chrome bezel. You tossed the entire laptop away and Suguru had to lunge to catch it from shattering.

You are clumsy.

And terrible at surprises.

And he adores you.

More than he knew possible.

Suguru shrugs out of his grey peacoat. Dinner was phenomenal, yes. But now he needs you on his tongue for dessert.

He watches you step out of your heels, somewhat upset you didn’t let him take them off for you.

“On the couch and close your eyes!!” You squeal before disappearing into your bedroom.

“Yes ma’am.” Low chuckle spilling from his lips.

You’ll be the one following orders in a second.

Suguru does as he is instructed. Back against the plush couch. Legs spread a little further than usual.

You’ve had him stiff as a board the whole night. Doting over him. Petting his thigh. Pretty lips full of quick kisses and “Happy Birthday baby” and “I love you.” He almost took you at the dinner table.

But he’s a gentleman.

At least, before you get behind closed doors.

“Are you ready for me, birthday boy?” You call out. And your voice alone strips him of manners.

“I’m ready to be inside you, gorgeous.” Suguru palms the length of his shaft.

“Suguru!!! Behave.”

In a matter of seconds, your full body weight lands on his lap. You straddle him and his hands fly to your rounded hips.

You are wearing significantly less clothes than you were 2 minutes ago.

Suguru eyes flare open. The zipper on his suit pants nearly breaks.

“Ohhh, my pretty girl.”

His eyes violate every inch of your negligée. Lacy. Delicate. Riding the gentle dips and curves of your beautiful frame. Saliva pools in his mouth. You have no idea what he’s going—

“Eyes closed!” Your tiny palm can barely span his face.

“Alright, alright.” Suguru hikes you further onto his hips. His rod thundering against his fabric.

“Before you start, baby. Reach into my jacket pocket for me?”

“What?” Suguru always loved how pretty you sound when you’re shocked.

“Do it.”

Your fingers scramble to follow his order. Always so compliant. His name, tangled with an airy little gasp escapes next.

“Suguru Geto, what is this?!”

Eyes still closed, Suguru flashes a mischievous grin. You’re so pretty when you’re stern with him. You punish (reward) him with a quick slap on his chest.

Suguru pulls his lids open. He finds you holding 2 nearly identical boxes. A bigger one in the right, a demure one in the left.

You’re flushed up to your ears and Suguru hasn’t ever seen a woman so beautiful.

“What is this?” You probe again, eyes glossed over.

Suguru gently works the smaller box out of your hand.

“A present,” he plants a chaste kiss on your pouty little lips.

“But it’s your birthday. And I wanted to surprise you. I saw this—“

“—silver analog watch with an indigo face and chrome bezel, I know baby.” Suguru’s lips find your flushed, warm cheeks.

“Suguru…”

“So I got one for you too.” He opens the smaller box, just as you reveal his surprise.

Yours is daintier. Scaled down to your small wrist. Both of your initials inscribed at the base of your watch.

“Baby.”

Mist coats your eyes the way it does. The way your love coats him. In all places. All at once. Gentle. Refreshing.

A blessing.

“You are the love of my life. In this lifetime and the next. Thank you for the birthday gift, sweet girl.”

——

GOJO

“Satoru, Jesus Chri—are you kidding me right now?”

“What’s the matter, baby?”

Your boyfriend was born with a silver spoon and a silver tongue.

An expert at rolling, whipping and twisting words until they’re saltwater taffy. Sweet on the mouth. Sticky in reality. And at its worst, kryptonite to the person consuming them.

As if he didn’t just steal the pink satin bow, from your head. And your hair falls in a slow cascade around your face.

Satoru slides into the seat across the dinner table. Candlelight kissing his high cheekbones. Tonight makes it three years from the day he asked you to be his.

Not that it matters, really. Because time crumbles to stardust around him.

Every minute, every second with Satoru feels like the first. Your heart can’t tell the difference, and you’ve stopped trying to.

A mischievous grin reaches his 10-carat diamond eyes. Razor sharp, and a reminder to everyone within a 1 mile radius that he’s not of this world.

“You’re gorgeous.” Satoru toys with your hair tie. Deftly knotting it into a bow on his wrist — an egregious accessory next to his cuff links.

“Save the pillow talk, Satoru!”

“What?” He retorts, slinging his elbow over the back of his chair. Dangling his newest prized possession in your face.

“Is it so bad that your boyfriend wants to feel close to you? You won’t let me sit next to you — I’m desperate.”

You feign a gasp and lean over. Hushed because what you’re about to say is sacrilegious.

“The Strongest Sorcerer in the modern era won’t survive sitting across from his girlfriend instead of next to her? Don’t let the bad guys hear that.”

Bellowing laughter erupts. His base low and clear as an alpine lake. Your soprano a feather light harmony.

Unbridled joy that is so unique to your relationship echoes throughout the dining room. Waiters and waitresses send fond smiles your way because the restaurant is dedicated to your celebration.

Satoru’s lips find the back of your hand. Embers from the candle catch the golden flecks of sunset in his Mediterranean Sea. Eyes with still waters, tonight.

He’s beautiful, your boy.

“Happy anniversary, princess.”

“Happy anniversary, my love. I have something for you.”

You glide your hand out of his grasp before he locks it in. Eyebrows already crawling to the center of his face.

“I told you not to get—“

“Hush!”

Always one to give, never one to receive, Satoru narrows his gaze. You know that look — he’s planning on tripling his retaliation gift.

Satoru reluctantly takes the box out of your hands, while you watch on bated breath.

His full lips hang open. Cotton candy dusting the tip of his nose, blooming to his ears. He’s never like this. Taken aback. Full of surprise.

Your full name tumbles out of his mouth. Almost foreign to your ears, but indulgent when coated in his rich, loving tone.

Satoru pulls the leather bracelet out of the box. An infinity symbol woven in the center with your initials and his initials flanking either side.

Before you get a chance to breathe again you’re standing in his arms. In the middle of the empty room. Face nearly eclipsed by his large hands.

“Baby,” Is all that escapes him before he crashes his lips onto yours.

His tongue immediately begs for entry. Faint taste of mint chocolate ghosting your taste buds.

It’s comforting. It’s dizzying. It’s Satoru.

“L-let me explain the gift.” Panting out of his embrace. A light sheen already coating his eyes. He’s statuesque except for his thumbs that strum the apples of your cheeks.

“Of course.”

“You’ll probably live forever, fighting demons and such—“

“Curses, baby. The demons are just personal.” He laughs.

Satoru flashes another smile, but this one is blue. Melancholy in a way that tugs on your heart strings. You draw him in for a quick kiss.

A mere bandaid on a lifetime of third degree burns.

“I know I’m not invincible like you and your friends. And you spend an inordinate amount of time dealing with the fact that I’m a Normie.”

Satoru’s nose crinkles. “It’s not a crime to not see curses.”

“I rather you not see them. I don’t want you subjected to that.” Grit in his voice and his eyes glaze over. You know that Satoru is watching gruesome memories on his mind’s big screen.

“I know, handsome.”Your hand cups his face and he subconsciously unravels in it. All but purring into your warmth.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that the world needs you for far greater things than it needs me.”

“Do not talk like—“

Your finger presses against his lips. Your boyfriend has a real habit of cutting you off and at this rate you two will never get to enjoy your dinner.

A small chuckle escapes him. He’s sorry. And you continue.

“I got you that bracelet…because..” Suddenly shy under his undivided attention, you drop your gaze. Thumbing his new gift instead.

You pause. He pauses. Everything around you halts.

Then it all tumbles out at once.

“You’re it for me, Satoru. The One. Forever and always. In every life we’re reborn in, even if I can’t stick around as long as you can in this one.”

Cheeks incinerated by your confession, you muster the courage to lock eyes with him once more. Nearly flat lined at what you see.

A crystal tear sliding down one side of his face. All of his sharp lines and angles, like melted butter. Mouth ajar. Moused. Imperfect. Like his heart is splayed open on his chest for the world to see.

“Satoru…?”

Hearing his name jumpstarts his engine. Satoru lifts you into his arms and strides toward the exit in milliseconds.

You toss your head back. Full of breathy giggles because this is the man you know and love. The modus operandi that made you fall so deeply for him in the first place.

“Dinner! Baby our dinner!” You squeal a little too late, given that he’s 4 more long strides away from the door.

“It’s taken care of. I’ll have them send it to the house.” Eyes straight ahead. A man on a special grade mission.

The two of you come to an abrupt stop just shy of the front door. Satoru rakes his glassy eyes over your flushed face.

“I would die for you. You know that, right?” His voice cracks. Actively staving off the flood threatening the rim of his eyes.

“You and me…you know that I…I lo—, I’ve…you’re the only…fuck.”

Satoru draws in a frustrated sigh. Tossing his head to the side. Hopeful that looking at anything else in the room would make this easier.

“You know why I cant.. I can’t say it baby I—“

“I know, Satoru. I know.”

‘Because love is the most twisted curse of all.’

And he believes that the moment it falls off his tongue, you’ll be taken from him.

Your lover’s presence is grandiose. Demanding. Loud. Noticed from miles away. Earth shifted on its axis when he was born.

A loan from Heaven’s stash. He’s a gift to mankind and your personal Moon.

But his love is the opposite.

Found only in quiet moments. Moments when his shield, breast plate and sword clamor against the hardwood floor after saving lives time and time again.

When you wake up to him staring at you, caressing your cheeks. A gentle wake up call because he needs a kiss. A temporary reprieve from his nightmares. The demons that haunt him day in and day out.

When he comes home early from every single mission. Just to get back to where his heart is.

His love is woven into your satin pillow cases, that hold his triumphs with students, his frustration from work, his regrets.

His love is painted on walls of your apartment. The walls that could barely contain his grief. Wails loud enough to shift earth’s tectonic plates. That heard him scream in your arms. For months. All because he lost his first love at his own hands.

His love glows under the moonlight. When he is buried deep inside you. Rambling about giving you a son first, then a daughter. Because he has to teach his boy to be strong. Strong enough to keep up with him. Strong enough to watch the world burn for his sister if it has to.

Satoru Gojo is not soft, but he loves you softly.

Another tear glides down his porcelain skin. Somewhat ashamed that he can’t swipe it way with his hands full of you, he flashes a lopsided smile. It makes his otherwise ethereal coalescence of features so boyish. Tangible.

Human.

Satoru presses a salty kiss against your lips. And it’s the sweetest he’s ever tasted. Pulling away briefly, to affirm you in a way that only he can.

“Infinity, baby?”

“Infinity, baby.”

520 notes · View notes

milla-frenchy · 4 months

Text

Wolf like me

2k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader Summary: you meet someone who finally fills the void in you Warnings: 18+ mdni. rough sex, oral (m/f), facial, self abandonment, toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, spitting, biting, manhandling, unprotected piv, rimming, ass play, anal, creampie, reader is looking for pain, Joel is not particularly nice and not caring either. No age specified. a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog thank you for beta-ing me, and hearing me whine 😭💕🫶 There are Joels that are particularly physically powerful, brutal, and sexually aggressive. I call them “beast!Joel” 😍🥵 Here they are: Carnal @pascalsbby | Daddy Joel & A day in the filth @toxicanonymity | Lost in the dark @iamasaddie. Thank you for these awesome fics 🙏❤️ Here’s mine :) The title is from Wolf like me by TV on the radio

ao3 | masterlist | part 2

Joel was pretty well known at the QZ. He had the reputation of a distant man, not meddling in other people's affairs and hating people meddling in his own. He carried out the worst tasks, those that paid the most. It was impossible to know what shenanigans he was getting into with Tess, the woman he was often seen with. Impossible to know why he sometimes met FEDRA soldiers on the sidelines, but without really hiding it, as if he knew that no one would dare bother him.

You worked for Robert and you knew that his relationship with Joel was tense. So for some time now, when Robert needed something from Joel, he went through you. Every time you met him, Joel lived up to his reputation. He grumbled more than spoke, he was not very verbose, he did not bother with manners and was barely polite. He used to roll his eyes an embarrassing number of times at you, like you were the stupidest person in the world. However, he didn't impress you, and one day, you caught a grin when you responded to him in a biting tone.

That’s probably how you ended up on your knees in front of him one evening, his cock in your mouth and his fist clenched in your hair. His massive hand on the back of your head holding you exactly how he wanted, while he was fucking your throat without worrying about the tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

He let go of you, and ordered you to get on the bed, “cheek against the pillow and ass in the air.”

You looked up at him, without immediately obeying, and he pointed to the bed with his chin. You got up and settled in, unable to resist his directive tone. When he knelt behind you, his fat cock in his hand, ready to push it into your core, you freed yourself from his hand, asking him to wait.

“Wait for what exactly, little girl?”

In someone else's mouth, this pet name might have been cute. Or kind. But in his, you felt like a helpless little thing in the hands of a man much more powerful than you.

“Wait until I’m prepared,” you whispered.

“Do you think I’m gonna make love to you, baby girl?”

He tilted his head to the side, waiting for your response which didn't come.

“Cause I don’t make love. I fuck hard. So either you take my fuckin’ cock the way I wanna give it to you, or you get the fuck outta here.”

You let him fuck you the way he wanted, your teeth digging into the flesh of your hand to keep you from screaming, while his fingers were firmly buried in the flesh of your hips. He pulled out just before he came, grabbing your arm for you to follow him to the side of the bed. His feet planted on the ground, he jerked himself into his clenched fist until spurts of cum covered your face.

Stunned by his animality, you didn't move before he pushed you down onto the floor, and he plunged into you, his tongue dipping into your aching pussy. He ate you as he had fucked you just before: like a hungry beast devouring its wounded prey. His fingers were everywhere, on your clit, in your pussy and in your ass. Yours were buried in his curls, clawing at his scalp, making him grunt against your folds until you came, exhausted, and finally relaxed your muscles that had been contracting until then, under the assaults he had inflicted on you.

Of course, he didn't walk you home. He didn’t even say a word to you, to be honest. He barely watched you wipe away the cum that was still on your cheeks.

You continued to meet Joel on Robert's behalf, and you returned to his apartment several times.

Every time he fucked you, you felt like you were being tossed around in dark waters, the movement of which seemed strangely familiar to you. And above all, the feeling gave you the confirmation that you were still alive.

Joel wanted to own, to take. And you wanted to be owned, creating a perfect balance between you. You were giving him everything he wanted. Your body was always adapting to his, whatever hole he thrusted into. He probably licked and smelled every inch of your skin. Left bite marks on your body, as if his cock deep inside you wasn't enough, as if he needed to sink his teeth into your skin. Needed to show everyone that you were his. That you had been claimed. “I want you to use my body whenever and however you want”, you told him once. And he did. Days after days.

As soon as you closed the door to his apartment behind you, you felt that the atmosphere was heavier than usual. He was sitting near the dining room table, facing the front door, and you.

“Who was it?”, he asked, in an annoyed voice, so low you barely heard him, while his fist was clenched on the table.

"Who are you talking about?"

“That boy, with you near the guardhouse this afternoon.” He spat out the sentence, his jaw clenched, the sound of his voice barely reaching your ears.

“He’s one of Robert’s guys, he’s not a boy,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. He stood up suddenly and slammed you against the wall with surprising agility for a man of his build. His hand pressed against your throat, his face lowered towards you, you only saw his dark eyes.

“You let him fuck you?” he growled, tightening his grip on your throat.

“No, damn, Joel…”, you whispered.

He released his grip slightly and breathed down your neck, then moved up to your ear, as if to make sure that he would only smell your scent on you.

“Mine,” he murmured, his nose in your hair, his hand sliding from your throat to one of your breasts which he grabbed.

“Yours”, you breathed in his ear, your hand clinging to his bicep.

“I’m gonna be brutal, baby doll.”

“I know.”

He unbuttoned his pants, pulling out his hard cock, before grabbing your thighs and lifting you off the ground. He pushed aside the panties under your dress, and positioned his tip at your entrance. He looked at you, daring you with his gaze to tell him to wait. But it’s been a long time now since you asked him to be prepared. You only wanted to feel him more. Always more. And the faster he plunged into you, the more intoxicating the sensation was.

He sank in, his gaze boring into yours as his cock split your pussy. In one push he bottomed out. He pulled back almost all the way and thrusted in again, after tilting his pelvis so that you impaled yourself as deep as possible on his shaft. Breathless, you grabbed his shoulders to try to ease the way you were taking his cock. But he placed his arm against your back and tightened his hand on the back of your neck, trapping you in his embrace. He pounded you against the wall, and you were whimpering at each stroke of his cock.

“You’re mine”, he said again, thrusting in. “You belong to me, only my cock can fuck this cunt. You hear me, little girl?”

“Fuck… Yes Joel! Just you.”

“Not only your cunt. Everything. I want only my smell on you.”

He grabbed your chin in his hand, looking at you questioningly. You nodded and said “only you.”

“Good girl. Come here.”

He released you and grabbed your arm, squeezing it way too tightly with his large hand, before throwing you onto the bed. He was standing in front of you, his pants just under his balls, still covering his thick thighs. His hand was tight on his cock, glistening with your wetness. You could see the vein in his neck pulsing.

He spat into his palm before jerking off harshly while watching you.

“Joel”, you whimpered. “Please I want-”

“You’ll have that cock when I’ll give it to you”, he cut you off.

“Please Joel, use me”, you whined again.

“Jesus, you need my cock that bad? Get on all fours, then. And take off your clothes.”

You undressed and watched him remove his clothes, before waiting for him on your hands and knees. The bed sank under his weight as he knelt behind you. He ran his hands from your neck to the small of your back. He reveled in your eagerness, seeing your ass pushed back towards him. You wanted him to use you, the way he wanted. He placed his cock at your entrance, and thrusted in slowly. So slowly that it was almost more painful than when he would suddenly stick it in you. Like a bandage that you gently remove instead of ripping it off all at once. You felt your pussy spread painfully to let his cock sink in. You felt his skin warming you up from the inside. He kept thrusting, and you realized that you had been holding your breath since he dove in you. You breathed deeply, keeping yourself from moving backwards and impaling yourself on his cock in one blow. You knew he wanted to control the pace, and you wanted him to act that way. You wanted to be in pain, to feel things as intensely as possible, and for as long as possible.

You felt so fragile and vulnerable, with his massive hands on you and his cock piercing you. And at the same time, you had never felt so safe. Nothing could happen to you, with him.

Finally his cock bottomed out and you gasped. He pulled back and thrusted in with a brutal move this time, as you reflexively leaned forward. He tightened his embrace, threatening “don’t you dare. You’re gonna take my cock, as I want you to take it.” You bit your lip and nodded.

You heard him spit and you shivered as you felt his saliva reach your ass, his thumb immediately coming up to push it into your ring. You heard him grunt behind your back, guessing his contemplation between keeping fucking your pussy or claiming your ass. With a snort, he pulled out, dipping his tongue against your ass, lapping flat. You heard him jerking off into his fist and part of you hoped to see him desperate to the point of cumming against the sheets without having time to fuck you. But his primal instinct for possession was the strongest, and he positioned himself against your ring once he felt you would be able to take it.

He pushed, and you waited quietly, controlling your breath, until the tip was fully in.

“Oh fuck, Joel…”

“Always ready to take it in your ass, right?”

“I…fuck. Yeah. I can always take it.”

“Good girl”, he praised, as he thrusted in suddenly, the brutality of his action clashing with the sound of his voice. You didn't have time to say a word, he was already pulling back before burying himself again, showing you once more that you were his, pinching your hips, and you knew that the morning after your skin there would be blue.

“Turn around, I want to see your face while I fuck your ass,” he said, pulling back and manhandling you to turn around.

You lay on your back, and he grabbed the back of your knees to bring them closer to your shoulders before thrusting in. The position made the penetration so deep that you thought he was actually going to tear you in half. His growls were more animalistic than human and you lost yourself in their sounds.

“Look”, he said. “Look at my cock, ruining your ass.”

He pulled his torso away from yours and you looked down, where your bodies were one.

“Fuck, baby doll. Look. You’re taking it so good.”

“Joel... Let off all your steam. Use me for that.”

“Shit you’re…you never get enough of that cock.”

He fucked you, probably harder than ever, and you couldn't feel your body anymore.

“Lose yourself in me”, he told you, looking at you as if he was reading you. “I’m here for it”, he added. You came, hearing him, your clit rubbing against his lower stomach.

Burying in your ass, he grabbed your wrists with one hand and held them above your head, placing his mouth against your armpit, licking away the beads of sweat hidden there and growling against your skin.

“Jo…fuck. Joel.”

“Mmmm?”, he growled.

“The sounds you make, when you fuck me. I…- fuck.. I feel so full - …I love these sounds.”

For the first time, you thought you saw a loss of control in him, and you tried to catch his gaze. When he froze inside you and shot the hot spurts of cum into your ass, all you could think about was the dark waves you were floating in, and you came a second time on his cock.

You got dressed and as you were leaving he grabbed you, holding you against him like no one had ever done before. He held you so tight that it was painful, but you would have let him crack one of your ribs if it would allow you to continue this embrace. When he released you, you tried to meet his gaze again, but he had already turned away from you.

When you got back to your apartment, you knew you were screwed. Fucking with him, letting him use you in any possible way, was no longer enough.

Part 2

********************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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nahoney22 · 3 months

Note

If you're able I would LOVE ❛ cum for me, pretty one. ❜ and/or ❛ i know, baby, you need me to fuck you, don't you? ❜ but with AFAB reader saying it to Crosshair? 👀Thank you in advance if you do!! Your writing is wonderful 💕

4000 Follower Prompt Celebration

Crosshair X AFAB!Reader

word count: 1.6k

prompts:

• “Cum for me, pretty one.”

• “I know baby, you need me to fuck you don’t you?”

You want to try something new. For the crosshair girlies 💋

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only! Minors will be blocked if I see you interact. You’ve been warned. Smut, Dom! Reader, Sub! Crosshair, porn without plot, p in v sex, neck kissing, making out, handjob, riding, explicit sexual content and language. AFAB reader, established relationship,brief cockwarming, creampie, no mention of contraception so up to you.

authors note: so sorry for the wait my beloved @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius . Enjoy this well needed crosshair smut ❤️‍🔥

In the quiet confines of the Marauder, where solitude was a rare luxury amidst the hustle of missions and the constant presence of the Batchers, an air of anticipation hung heavy between Crosshair and you.

It had been (or at least felt like) an eternity since you both had a little fun, a longing that was simmering beneath the surface met with secret lustful gazes and needy touches. Both of you just waiting for the right moment to ignite the fire.

However, one evening after you both managed to convince Hunter to stay behind for whatever reason, as soon as the door sealed shut to the Marauder, the tension crackled to life, and Crosshair wasted no time in bridging the gap between you.

With a fervent urgency, his hands found their place on your waist, drawing you closer until your breaths mingled in the space between your lips.

"Finally," he murmured against your lips with a husky grumble laced with longing, hooking your leg to pull you impossibly closer. But you, caught in the whirlwind of desire and anticipation, had a different notion in mind.

“Crosshair, mmm…” you whimper in pleasure agaisnt his lips, finding the right moment to set your desires in action. “I want to try something.”

He chuckles, low and guttural that made your body vibrate and cunt throb in anticipation, “And what may that be?”

As his lips move down to your neck, licking and sucking at your soft skin that almost breaks you and forgetting your idea, you take a step back from him. There’s a glimmer in your eyes and a look of intrigue in his as you slip the gloves away that dorned your hands. “Hands behind your back.”

“What are you up to?”

“No questions,” you input swiftly, “be a good boy and do as you're told.”

He stills, the pet name catching him off guard but you couldn’t act like you didn’t see the twitch in his pants. “Oh, you like that do you? Do you like being called a ‘good boy’?”

His tongue rolled between his teeth as his arousal became more than evident from the growl in his throat. He nods, and does as he is told. “Only if you call me it.”

When his hands find their way behind his back, you approach again and tease him. You move your mouth close to his lips, only brushing over him before pulling away, fingers dancing over the fabric of his clothes.

His eyes are trained on you, barely blinking as he watches your every move in anticipation. Your fingers graze the underside of his waistband and when he thinks you’re about to pull them down you pull back earning a dissatisfied whine from the Marksman.

“Such a tease,” he mutters but there’s a smirk on his lips. But, his hand comes from behind his back to reach out and touch you but you swat his hand back.

“Ah, ah! Hands. Back. Now.”

Begrudgingly, he obeys once more and as he’s about to give a snarky remark, your hands cup the bulge in his pants creating the most sinful sound to part his lips.

“It’s been a long time…” you sigh as you feel his cock twitch under his pants and in your hand, his abdominal muscles flexing and contracting under your touch, “…you need a release don’t you?”

“Yes,” he rasps, his eyes looking down as you fondle his cock that was in desperate need of touching your skin, “hurry.”

You giggle at his neediness and tut at him. “I think I’ll be the one giving orders this time, Crosshair.” Beginning to play with the waistband of his pants again, you give him the pleasure of dropping to your knees and allowing his cock to spring free as you pull them down. His tip swollen, bursting with precum already twitches in front of your eyes and you bite your lip to stop you from taking him right then and there. “Such a pretty cock, desperately needing to be kissed.”

“D-Do it,” he pants and you're pleasantly surprised to see how beautifully desperate he was.

Again, you tut and shake your head. “I don’t think you quite understand Crosshair. You will not tell me what to do,” you gaze up at him, hands sliding up his slender yet toned thighs, “I’ll do what I think you deserve.”

He cursed under his breath but his heartbeat quickens at the sight of you on your knees, hands wrapping around his cock and giving it a slow caress.

Usually by now his hands would be in your hair, clumped in his grasp and hips thrusting as his cock stuffs down your throat but instead, he has to hold back. And it was agonising.

His length is warm in your grasp and his gasps of pleasure echo around the ship like a song. He shivers involuntarily as you collect the slick from his tip and use it as lubricant, your hand keeping a steady pace as you start to release his tension. “That’s it, do you like that?”

All he could do was bite his lip and nod, submitting to you and then you go ahead and tease him some more, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out as if to welcome his cock or even to paint it in white ribbons. His breathing is ragged and his legs begin to shake. “Minx.”

Your momentum changes, starting off slow and limp now to quickly and firmly. Your curious eyes now focused on every last twitch and movement he’s making. Desperate moans spill from those pretty snarky lips as he starts to frantically thrust into your hand; head thrown back and arching gorgeously.

One hand slips from his cock and moves down to fondle with his balls. He reacts beautifully, gasping and then groaning but as soon as you squeeze gently down on them, right as you squeeze the head of his cock, he snaps.

“Fuck! I need- I need…”

“I know baby,” you smile innocently, “you need me to fuck you don’t you?”

“Yes, I need to be inside you.” You’re about to laugh, his desperation to cum like a song to your ears as you think of all the times he had denied you of an orgasm because he liked to see your eyes pleading. But, you had the power in your hands.

You say nothing, instead gesture for him to follow before pointing to a seat for him to take. He does, eagerly. He slides his shirt off even though you didn’t tell him too. Though there was something beautiful about seeing him sat there, nude as his cock rests and twitches against his abdomen. Needy. Fuckable.

Slowly, you pull yourself out of your own clothes this time. You let it all look at your feet and Crosshair looks like he’s ready to launch himself out of the chair and take you right then and there but he holds back, wanting to cum to your rules.

With ease, you manage to move on top of him, legs comfortably placing over each side of him as your pussy hits his stomach. “Fuck you’re soaked.” He mutters, squirming as he feels himself ready to burst at any second.

“I don’t think I’m going to last long..” he mutters once you feel your hand come down, caressing his aching length as you begin to line yourself up with his tip.

There’s a hint of embarrassment in his eyes but you didn’t mind. Not at all. In fact, you were flattered you had this effect on him so there’s no surprise that when you coo his name and sheathe yourself on his cock that he lurches forward and buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning almost violently in pleasure.

You tilt your head back, adjusting to him. It really had been a long time, never had you been stretched so good and felt so full again. “Mmm, do you want me to move?”

“Yes! Ride me, riding my fucking cock.” He begs, teeth grazing your neck as he sucks on the skin, bound to leave a bruise.

“Be a good boy and say ‘please’.” He whined in return but mustered out a quiet ‘please’ which was good enough for you. Finding your strength, you begin bouncing up and down on his cock. The aching length slides in and out of you so easily, bound to be from your increased arousal and how wet you are. Crosshair braces you, his arms wrapping around your back so that you can lean into him as you fuck yourself on him.

You take your own breath away as you slam down on him harder, mixing your rhythm with bouncing and grinding your hips as your pussy clenches around him. But as expected, he didn’t last long.

His breaths became staggered, his hips thrusting up to meet yours as his assault on your neck became sloppy. You cup his chin, forcing him to look at you as you place a longing kiss to his lips and whisper, “cum for me, pretty one.”

Everything in his mind goes blank, he can barely even remember his own name as you ride him through his orgasm. Your soaking walls clench around him so tightly as he cums, strings of dirty words erupting from his mouth as he coats your insides with his seed.

He goes limp, his arms that were wrapped around you tightly now loosening as he pulls back from you and kisses your cheek gently. “Thank you…” he pants, “I needed that.”

You giggle softly, essentially warming his cock as you remain sitting in his lap. “I know you did, you did so well for me.” You cooed and you noticed him become flustered at the praise.

Perhaps, this is something you had to do again.

Masterlist

Prompt Works

More Crosshair Works

Tags: @photogirl894 @whore4rex @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @cw80831 @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @imalovernotahater @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb

#crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #the bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair bad batch #nahoney22 writes #the bad batch #tbb #crosshair

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steviewashere · 2 months

Text

Rhetorics and Bad Days

Rating: General CW: None apply! Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Season 4, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Has a Bad Time, Steve Harrington is an Ugly Crier, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names, Forehead Kisses, Slight Love Confessions, Getting Together (Sorta Kinda/More Implied Afterwards)

Tripped and fell last night and wrote 3.2k words. Inspired by @scoops-aboy86 idea and my stupid little headcanon from this post!

💕—————💕

It seems like everyday was a bad day when you were somebody like Steve Harrington. Considering the good majority of his life the last four years, give or take, has been a cartwheel of nightmares and torture and blood and injuries—And, well. Obviously he has bad days.

Though, typically, it can be resolved and done over with a hot shower, maybe some stupid movie that he honk-laughs at, a warm blanket and a freshly dried pillowcase. Little things. Little good things that are able to calm him some, at least. Give him something else to think of, at most. He doesn’t have to do anything like cry or breakdown or yell until his voice is hoarse, that’s what he tells himself. Because, what’s been ingrained in his head, men don’t cry. Men don’t get hysterical. Men don’t break that emotional mold.

Though those words are definitely booming and deep and flat like his dad’s. That’s not his brain. Those aren’t his words. But it sure as hell is what he’s been exposed to for far too long.

And maybe that’s why, standing in the barren living room of his brand new (albeit worn down, caulked heavily, all too warm) apartment, he finds the rhetoric silenced. In a fresh space. With crooked blinds and awfully filled tack holes. A kitchen fit for a (former) king. Little breakfast nook that only allows for two dining chairs under the south facing windows. Barely any sunlight able to stream through. His bedroom cramped with just a queen sized mattress placed haphazardly on the floor, definitely crushing some well-loved Playboy magazines, crooked to the wall at his head because the movers carrying it were too tired from the recently odd mid-fall heat, and a decently sized freshly made spiderweb in the corner—he shivers at the thought of something alive and crawling watching him sleep at night. And the glorious bathroom—preemptively marked with darkened piss stains on the floor and a smell birthed from over-indulgence on alcohol.

It’s his, though. Well, his and Eddie’s.

Eddie has his own bedroom, similar size to Steve’s (think of a shoebox used to bury that poor hamster from your youth, dead from eating too many baseball cards), ceiling light stained with god worshipping moths, and a window that half-opens if he jiggles it the right way. They share that grimy bathroom. And he brought the living room couch, something that had been sitting on his and Wayne’s back porch for some time, definitely a little mud stained and mildew smelling from rain, but it’s not the worst. Not the best. Not even good. But it’s their space, freed from the confines of Hawkins, new and shiny for all of Indianapolis to see.

The rhetoric is gone in Steve’s brain. Like skin shed from his sunburned body. Peeling and crackling to every surface he finds himself on or leaning against or standing with. It evades him. Leaves him with something viciously young and terribly hungry.

Steve Harrington is prone to bad days. Bad weeks. Bad things.

The unfortunate luck begins anew an exact week from when they move in.

October 20th, 1986 is his first day back at Family Video. He’d been transferred, referred much to Keith’s dismay, but probably his pleasure, too. (Considering how immediate his response had been to Steve’s question.) But it was his first day back. Didn’t need to be trained. Just hooked like a fish to deceased worm bait, thrown out to the river that is their block’s neighbors and strangers and mere acquaintances that feel no better or worse about having new people take residency on their street, but he’s also not reeled back in at the end of his shift. If anything, he’s tangled in his own wire, flopping, gasping for water, drying to the gravel by the shallow give of the river’s flow. He is stranded behind the register. Returning customers telling him he should know what they like, or what discount they need, or how many movies they’ve checked out previously. That he should know that a particular customer is friends with the owner of the Family Video he so sorely resides in. But he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. So he makes do. He powers through it. Feigns mundane annoyance like gum flavorless between his teeth, though he’s biting his tongue to not sob.

That’s not where the bad ends. No. Of course not.

He’s within walking distance to their apartment. Which should be fine. In fact, it’s incredibly handy because even if he were running late to work, he could blame it on something stupid. (‘My key broke off in the lock, had to bother the landlord.’ ‘Yeah, had a leak in the bathroom this morning, have to report it just in case it tries to flood the downstairs neighbors.’ ‘It’s odd, seems like the lock loves to devour my keys.’ Nervous laughter.) But just because he’s within walking distance does not mean that life is plainly simple. No, what happens is he gets soaked with dirty road rain water. Was it mentioned that it’s been raining all day? No? Well, it has been. And it’s a downpour. Forecast said it would happen tonight, not midday, not while he’s trying to power walk home so he can make the peanut butter and jelly sandwich of his dreams. But it does. Because of course. And some asshole, screaming out their window to tell him that he should’ve worn a raincoat, speeds by. Coating him from collarbone to toe in the mucky rainwater of a city that’s too busy for a place like bumfuck Indiana. At least in Hawkins everybody knows your name; at least they have the common decency to let you stroll on by before they make a major move like that. But in a city bustling with busy, selfish, awful people—because aren’t all city inhabitants like this, should he have realized something like this was bound to happen? Well, he did. Just didn’t think it would take less than a month for it to occur.

Sopping wet. Exhausted and burnt out. Hungry like a rabid stray dog. He walks briskly. Skipping over the cracks and lines in the sidewalk, no matter how much disdain he tastes for his mother. Missing freshly spat out gum by mere centimeters. Shoulder checking a few too slow pedestrians, their sneering faces burning into his back. And the next awful thing comes in like a planned prank on some mocking little sitcom show. Dog shit. Pure dog shit, brown and putrid and soft on the sole of his right Adidas Superstar. His brand new shoes. The shoes he got himself less than a month ago. Shoes that he had been eyeing for years, but couldn’t muster the courage or the reason to buy them. And now there’s dog shit on the bottom of his shoe. He smears it on the concrete, squishing it further into the ridges of his sole, scraping it against the harsh ground. Tries his best. Checks the bottom of the shoe precariously. And without missing a beat…topples down onto his ass, thankfully away from the smeared shit, but down onto the ground nonetheless. He prickles, stands up on his shaky legs, dusts off his ass, and storms the rest of the way home.

Maybe he shouldn’t slam the door. But it’s barely anything in comparison to the rest of his day. He shouldn’t do it. He knows that it could get them a noise complaint. Though, the way it vibrates against his back, settling deep into the wood, stepping out of his sneakers to wash in the tub in a few—it’s all too good.

The anger begins to dissipate from him in just that small action.

Then, again like a well-mannered sitcom scene, in barrels Eddie from his bedroom. Arms crossed over his chest, hip popped to the side, harsh scowl to his face. “Man, are you fucking serious?” He spits.

“What?” Steve asks, panting, breathless, absolutely done with today. With tomorrow. With the rest of this week.

“I told you this morning that I was going to be studying in my room! All day! Told you that I wanted it to be quiet, and the first thing you do when you get home is slam the door shut?!” He growls. Snarling, he continues, “And what about the noise complaints?! We can’t afford any of those, we need this place! Could you not—“

Steve pushes past him, shoes in hand, work bag slung down like a bomb to the floor. Leaving its contents scattered. A copy of Airplane! on VHS, some stickers reading ‘Be kind, rewind’, measly three dollars, and his Family Video vest. All of it strewn about their place. Pooling murky water on the surface, just as Steve’s clothes were dripping everywhere else. He closes himself in the bathroom, but doesn’t lock the door. In fact, that stupid fucking lock doesn’t even work. Nothing works. He stays in there anyway. Really, they should clean in here. Clorox the hell out of every surface. Maybe see if the piss stains will come up with a harshly gripped mop. But instead of those important things, he tosses his sneakers into the bathtub, and sits with his head in his hands on the closed toilet lid. Mushy socks to the tiled floor. Pants uncomfortably drying and chafing on his legs. Underwear like a second skin to his balls. His polo tight across his back and terribly moist.

Shoves his palms harsh into his eyes and whistles through his nose. “Fuck,” he mutters, lip wobbling with the word.

A tentative knock to the door startles him. “Steve?” Eddie’s voice rings out. It’s murmured, careful, testing the syllables on his tongue. “Hey, can I come in? I’m—“ He sighs, the anger he had before blowing away from him. “I’m sorry,” he sincerely apologizes. “I’m sorry that my first instinct was to get mad. I—“

“Just come in,” he croaks. It’s not very loud, but it must be enough because Eddie pushes the door open mere seconds later.

He sighs, mouth downturning when he sees Steve on the toilet. Meekly holds up Steve’s also brand new messenger bag. Stained like the tiled flooring under their socked feet. It’s sodden and depressing. “Hey,” he mutters.

Steve just hums in return. Looking up to Eddie from the toilet, he must be a sorry sight. All soaking wet, spine hunched and scrunched in a horrifically twisted amalgamation, hair limp in his eyes. Something has to read on him for Eddie to be gazing at him the way he is. All big eyes and sorry mouth and his shoulders slouched like he’s admitting defeat. Part of Steve doesn’t want him to, wants him to keep getting riled, yelling about their lease and the slammed doors and the forgetfulness that seems to flow through Steve just as easily as blood. Wants to be called names. Wants to have a non-delicate conversation about how much of a screw-up he is, how he should’ve listened to his father and never moved away, why he’s a disaster of a person. Tell Steve all the ways in which he’s deserving of the bad days. Deserving of their frequency. Deserving of misery.

“Are you—No, you probably aren’t, but I’m asking anyway. Are you okay, Steve?”

That—Well, that breaks something in him. The final block on his wobbling tower of everything and too much. Under his skin, like weak twigs, his ribs are snapping. Crumbling beneath him to make room for the way his lungs expand with the need to gasp. The need to hiccup his way through a terrible explanation.

His mouth twitches, lips pursing. Looks away. “I—“ Steve rasps. “No,” he sobs.

Warmth crowds him, all too sudden and all too much. Hands gravitating to his magnetic pull. Squeezing his shoulder and pushing back his stringy hair. Though, immediately and dizzyingly, he is reminded of that stupid rhetoric. He shouldn’t follow it. Shouldn’t even allow it to have the vice grip it does on his brain.

But he shakes Eddie off, standing uneasily from the toilet, walking around him. He paces into the kitchen, hungry and shaking and needed to do something. Get his energy out one way or another. Fight off the tears, no matter how relieving they would be. Clatters through the cupboards. Finds the cheap, shitty, generic white bread. And an already half-eaten jar of peanut butter, odd peaks and valleys in it as if somebody’s been chowing down on it with a spoon. That doesn’t matter, though. At least there’s any peanut butter at all.

Eddie’s not too far behind him. Standing in the kitchen’s entryway, hands floating in front of him, reaching out for Steve. “Hey, Stevie, I can make you a sandwich. Y’know, if you want to change out of your clothes. Must be uncomfortable,” he’s placating.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Steve lies to himself. Because he needs this to be true. Just this one good thing. One thing he can do for himself. Make something he wants to eat. Something he’s been thinking about all day. Something that plasters an easy enough smile to his already half-puffy face, tears encroaching and sobs clawing their way up to his throat. But when he grabs for the jelly, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He slams the door of the fridge closed. No jar in sight. Not a single kind. No marmalade or strawberry jam or even the nasty grape jelly he bought for when Robin visits. There’s nothing. “Are you—“ He groans, huffs, and hiccups.

Attempting to cover himself, he shoves his hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes.

The one thing he can’t let Eddie see, because crying is going to happen whether Steve likes it or not, is that he’s an ugly crier. The ugliest, and he knows that. All bubbled snot and dripping its residue over his top lip. Lips bitten red raw from muffling the sobs. Spit burbled in the corners of his mouth. Choking on wet gasps, hiccuping with his whole body, trying to drink the air around him. Skin going splotchy red and hideously swollen, the swelling still apparent even two hours later.

With the first sob, he knows it won’t be possible to hide this breakdown. Eddie’s already inching closer, hands still out in front of him. Steve is a wounded animal, it seems like. He cries loud and shameful, mouth dropped open, his saliva bubbling between his teeth. Already choking on his first gasp.

“It’ll be alright, Stevie,” Eddie tries to soothe, “We can get more jelly, it’s alright.”

“No,” Steve cries, “No! It’s not—“ A series of short, hiccuping, wet gasps. Followed then by a snotty snort, bubbled and causing his breath to whistle. “Such a bad day,” he attempts to explain, voice keening, high pitched in the back of his throat. “Everybody was so mean—Clothes are—All wet and gross—“ Heavy swallow like trying to consume large shards of glass. He flaps his hands at his sides, scrunching them, trying to squeeze himself back to his ordinary box. But instead, more snorting sobs leave him.

Eddie places a warm hand on the back of Steve’s neck. Thumb digging into a knot that’s forming. He puts his other palm on his bare arm, coaxing him over to one of the dining chairs. Settles him down and crouches in front of his sob-riddled, hiccuping, contorting body. Holding Steve’s face with one hand, he reaches for the crumpled bandana in his back pocket, raising it between them. “Look at me, Stevie baby,” he murmurs, “Let me help you.” Steve drags his eyes away from where they’d been zeroed in on the floor. Locking with Eddie’s own sad and soft gaze. “There you are,” Eddie whispers. He gently strokes Steve’s cheek with the edge of his bandana. Gliding it over his skin, patting at the drying tear tracks. His other hand, thumb wedged near the corner of Steve’s mouth, wipes away at the spittle. “I’m sorry you had a bad day,” he mutters, “But we’ll get it back on track, alright? You’ll be okay, sweetheart. I promise you’ll be okay.”

Steve’s lips wobble. “I thought you were mad,” he nasally whispers. “Why are you being nice to me?”

Stopping his slow and careful work, Eddie stares in heartbreaking dismay. “You deserve nice things, Steve. It doesn’t matter that I was mad. I’m not mad anymore.” And then he runs his bandana over the snot trails under Steve’s nose. Looking on with an odd mix of sadness and reverence. Thumb not even wiping anything away anymore, simply caressing over Steve’s heated, swollen skin.

He swallows glass again. Blinks sluggishly. Calmed down, oddly. This is probably the quickest cry he’s ever had. He chuckles, “God, I’m such an ugly crier, man.” Sighs. “Can’t believe you’re willingly wiping at my snot right now. ’T’s nice.”

“Stop being so hard on yourself, sweetheart. I don’t even think you’re ugly.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, right.”

“What—I’m being honest!” Eddie quietly exclaims. He shifts the hand on Steve’s jaw, palm cupping his cheek, fingers splayed over his ear, holding him in a sweet yet fragile way. “Steve, you’re, like, gorgeous. I hate seeing you so upset, but you’re like an angel or something when you cry.” He draws his bandana away, but brings it back to cover the end of Steve’s nose. “Blow into this,” he instructs. And so Steve does, blowing out whatever didn’t already leave him in his crying episode. Eddie pulls it back again, not even grimacing at what is surely a squelching snot-covered mess in his hand. He massages his fingers into the hair around Steve’s ear. Gazing. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispers, reiterating. “And you deserve nice things, especially after what a clusterfuck of a day you must’ve had. And you deserve to breakdown every once in a while. Don’t have to hide just because you think you shouldn’t cry or because you’re ‘ugly’ or whatever.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Steve squeaks. Face flushing with heat, gratefully not from tears. He flashes a small smile, modest but there, for the first time today. “You really mean all that? Even when you called me sweetheart?”

Eddie is bashful, smile stretching, going red in the face, tilting his head as if assessing. But the lovesick sheen to his eyes says he’s already made up his mind. “Yeah,” he murmurs, careful and devoted, “yeah, baby. I do mean all that I said.”

“Can I have one more good thing?” Steve tentatively asks.

“What’s that?”

He touches between his eyebrows. “Forehead kiss?” (And sure, maybe he does pout a little, but can you blame him?)

Eddie, without missing a beat, leans forward, fiercely cupping Steve’s cheek, pressing a slightly damp kiss to Steve’s skin. Then under his eyes. The tip of his nose. Corner of his mouth. Pulls back, whispering, “You can have all the kisses you want, sweetheart.” Still caressing Steve, he offers, “How ‘bout I go get you some new jelly while you take a warm bath? And when you’re out, clean clothes and not shivering, we can curl up on the couch and watch that movie you got?”

“Okay,” Steve mutters.

“Okay,” Eddie murmurs back. He presses one more kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “Let’s make this a good day, baby.”

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington is an ugly crier #hurt/comfort

222 notes · View notes

burntheedges · 2 months

Text

Maintenance Request: Chapter 15

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 3.6k

chapter summary: you and Joel go on a second date 👀 a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, cursing, pet names (honey, baby, gorgeous, darlin’, sweetheart, cowboy), fondling, kissing, cuddling, comfort, food mention, drink mention, cursing, mention of reader's shitty ex (controlling behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, cheating) (shitty ex does not appear in this fic)

Chapter 15

Saturday, October 26 Ninth week of the semester

Joel (10:03 PM): Hey honey, you awake?

you (10:04 PM): sure am. even though someone tired me out last night 👀

Joel (10:06 PM): Think that was a joint effort, gorgeous. (10:06 PM): You up for a call?

** outgoing FaceTime call to Joel **

“Evenin’, honey,” Joel looked tired and warm and like something you wanted to sink into and never come back out of. Like what you wanted in bed with you, right next to you.

“Hey there,” you smiled. “How was the movie?”

He shrugged. “Not bad. Funny. One of those movies for teens that she loves and I find incomprehensible.” You laughed. You probably understood more of those than he did, given Ellie and your students, but you knew what he meant.

“Got plans tomorrow, honey?”

“You mean other than my hot date with some cowboy?”

He laughed. “Some cowboy, huh? Yeah, other than that.”

“Brunch with Ellie and Beth, since we didn’t go today.” You watched as he sat on his bed and leaned back into his familiar pillows. “You look comfortable over there.”

He shook his head. “Not nearly as comfortable as I’d be if you were here, baby.” You smiled and looked up at your ceiling.

“You’re such a flirt.”

“And you love it.” You looked back at the phone to find him raising his eyebrows at you. When you’d looked away you’d lowered the phone, so he could see your shirt. Which was his.

“You sleeping’ in my shirt, honey?”

You smiled. “Smells like you, Joel.”

His eyes were soft as he looked you over, even through the phone, and you pulled it back a bit to give him a better view of you lying against your pillows on the bed.

The grin that took over his face wasn’t soft anymore.

“Are my eyes deceiving me, honey, or are you wearing my shirt and nothing else?”

You grinned. “Sharp eyes you got there.”

He groaned. “Fuck, sweetheart. What do I do with you?”

You shrugged, grinning. “Anything you want, I guess.” He groaned again and wiped his hand over his face.

“You’re tempting me, honey, but I think we should hold that thought until tomorrow.” You sighed, but nodded. He may have blown your mind the night before, but you were only going on your second date. And you didn’t want this to only be about sex. As amazing as the sex was.

“You’re probably right, Joel. So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

You talked to Joel for about a half hour, until it was obvious to both of you that you were falling asleep.

“I can see your eyes closing from here, gorgeous. Go to sleep.”

“Joel–”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, honey. Get some rest. You might need it.” You smiled at his wink, and said goodnight.

...

Sunday, October 27 Ninth week of the semester

On Sunday evening, you were ready and waiting on your sofa for Joel to pick you up around 5:45 pm. You were in a comfortable outfit, as you’d agreed, and you’d gotten to choose the place for dinner this time. Joel would have to be home for Sarah later, anyway.

Your phone buzzed, and you checked it, wondering if Joel was running late, but you found a text from Beth.

bestie (5:39 PM): have an amazing date (5:39 PM): tell me everything later

you (5:40 PM) I will

bestie (5:40 PM): don’t be afraid to tell him, babe (5:41 PM): I have a good feeling about this one

you (5:41 PM): me too

bestie (5:42 PM): 🫂

Over brunch, you’d told Beth and Ellie that you were planning to tell Joel about Matt. At least, enough about him to give him an idea of what had happened. You figured if you and Joel were going to be together – and you hoped you would be – you’d have time for details later. They’d agreed it was a good idea, and helped you think about what you wanted to say.

You took a deep breath and sank back into your couch. You can do this.

A moment later, a knock at your door announced Joel’s arrival, and you smiled.

You opened your door to find him leaning against the frame on the other side, already grinning at you. He was dressed in one of his flannel shirts that showed off his shoulders, though you noticed it was still nicer than his typical work shirts. Before you could say anything he stepped forward, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you into a kiss.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he mumbled against your lips. “Missed you.” He teased along your bottom lip with his tongue, and for a moment you both slipped into a deeper kiss, before you gentled it and pulled away.

“Hi yourself, handsome.” You pressed one more gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth and you felt it when he smiled.

“You ready to go?” He stepped back from you and let his hand fall to tangle with yours. You nodded.

After locking your door you let him lead you to his truck. When he offered his hand to guide you into the passenger seat, you kept hold of it and pulled him in to kiss you again. You felt him smile against your lips as he stepped in between your knees. “If you keep this up, honey, we might not make it to dinner.”

You smiled and kissed his cheek. “Can’t help myself.” He hummed and slid his hands up the outside of your thighs, around your hips until he had a firm grip on your ass with each hand. He squeezed once and then pulled you forward suddenly, tugging your hips to meet his.

“Honey, if you wanted to stay in, I wouldn’t be hard to convince.” You could feel the evidence supporting his claim in his jeans and you bit your lip. He watched and then kissed you, softly.

You straightened your shoulders and shook the haze out of your mind. “I do actually want to go on this date with you, Joel.”

He smiled. “Me too, darlin’.” He leaned in for one more quick kiss before stepping back, gesturing for you to turn in the seat so he could close the door.

Soon you were on your way, and Joel’s hand found its home on your thigh once more.

“So where to?” You’d agreed last night that you would choose the restaurant tonight, since Joel had chosen for your first date. You gave him directions to your favorite local taco place. It was in a tiny old-house-turned-restaurant, and you figured he’d love the backyard that functioned as their outdoor eating area. You also knew you’d be able to have some privacy for what you wanted to talk about.

It wasn’t far from your apartment, and soon Joel was pulling into a parking space just around the corner from the restaurant. “I’m guessin’ it’s that colorful place on the corner?”

You nodded. “Yep! Come on, tacos await.” He laughed and followed you down the street.

Inside, the restaurant’s cheerful interior was as warm and welcoming as always. The walls were painted bright colors and all of the furniture was comfortable and well-used. The host recognized you (which was a little embarrassing, but fine) and quickly took you through the small indoor space to the backyard. You heard Joel’s surprised inhale behind you as you stepped outside, and you smiled.

The backyard was fenced off and the lot was bigger than it looked from the street. String lights decorated the fence and criss-crossed the yard overhead, along with other colorful decorations. There were a lot of tables, but the thing that had always made you love this space was how the tables were divided from each other – with plants. It was like sitting in little garden nooks where you’d normally find benches. There were bushes and tall plants everywhere that had been intentionally grown to provide privacy throughout the yard. Paths wound throughout, and the host led you down one of the winding paths to a small table in a back corner, surrounded by the fence on one side and a large hydrangea bush on the other. It was a gorgeous spot.

You turned to see Joel’s reaction as you sat, and you weren’t disappointed. He was looking around with a curious, interested look on his face, taking in the yard. You bit your lip, waiting for his reaction.

As he settled in his chair he reached his hand out to brush his fingers lightly against the hydrangea blossoms, and he smiled. When his eyes met yours, your breath caught in your throat.

“I had no idea this was back here,” he sounded stunned. “Darlin’, this is amazing. D’you know if they grew it like this?”

You grinned. “I hoped you’d like it. Yes, Beth and Ellie and I come here a lot, and we’ve met the owners a few times. There was a huge overgrown mess of a garden when they bought it – it took a lot of work, they said, but they kept as much of what was here as they could. They decided to let it guide their plan for the space, rather than the other way around.”

Joel was smiling, almost wistfully as he looked around the yard again. “They did a great job. I can tell someone really knows what they’re doing.” You nodded. He turned back to you and suddenly reached across the table to take your hands in his, tangling your fingers together and squeezing. “I do like it, honey. I–” he cleared his throat. “I love it. But I also,” he shook his head, and you squeezed his hands. He looked down at where your fingers were tangled together, and then met your eyes again. “It’s been– nevermind.”

“Joel, I–”

“No, baby, thank you. That’s all.” He smiled and squeezed your hands again. “I love it.”

You thought maybe he wanted to say something else, but then he changed the subject to the food. You told him what you liked, and soon your waiter arrived to take your order. After your drinks quickly arrived, you were alone again.

Joel still seemed to be thinking about something, and you weren’t sure what, so you decided to give him time to work it out. You could always ask about it later. Instead, you decided to go for a lighter topic – you weren’t quite ready to bring up the one you’d planned to talk about, not yet.

“So what show are Sarah and Tommy watching?”

Joel groaned, and the two of you discussed the reality TV show that had hooked the other two Millers until your food arrived.

“I just don’t care about the love lives of these people,” Joel said. “I can’t figure out why they find it so compelling.”

You laughed. “I watched a couple of seasons of that one with Beth. It’s entertaining, at least.”

Joel shook his head. “None of their relationships ever feel real, you know? I just get impatient with it. Knowin’ most of them won’t end up together, anyway.” You nodded. That made sense. You could already tell that he went after what he wanted, once he knew he wanted it.

You both took a moment to eat, and Joel told you how much he liked the food, too. “I’m glad you showed me this place, darlin’. Can’t believe I’ve never been here. Sarah’ll love it.”

When your tacos were done, you ordered another round of drinks, and Joel scooted a bit closer to the table so he could reach out to take your right hand in his left again. You were feeling comfortable, and as always, talking to Joel was easy. You took a deep breath and decided to go for it.

“Joel, I wanted to, um, talk to you about something.” You noticed that his brows furrowed immediately in response to that, and you squeezed his hand. “Nothing like that. I wanted to–” You sighed, and took a sip of your drink. “I want to tell you about that past relationship, the one I told you about a little bit the other day. In my office.”

Joel looked surprised – his eyebrows flew up, and he reached to take your other hand, capturing both in the middle of the table. “You don’t have to, honey. I–”

“No, um, I know.” You interrupted, but brushed your thumb over his knuckles in apology. “I want to. Not all of it. I figure we have time, you know? I think we both, well. It feels like we’re both thinking we'll have time.” His face was serious as he nodded in agreement. You nodded once, sharply. “But I want you to know a few things, just about what it was like. I think it’ll make it easier, for us. If I tell you now.”

Joel listened attentively as you explained. His hands were warm and you felt comforted by his touch, by the caress of his thumbs as they moved back and forth. He murmured your name softly. “I’ll listen to whatever you want to tell me. Thank you for trusting me.”

You closed your eyes, thinking about how different just this moment was from anything you’d ever had with Matt. It was a good place to start, maybe.

“Let’s start with that. Matt, that’s his name, he didn’t trust me at all. It’s easy for me to put names on all of the issues now, it’s been five years and a lot of therapy,” you smiled weakly, but Joel was watching you like nothing could tear his attention away from this moment. “I didn’t recognize it at the time. But he was pretty manipulative, emotionally. He withheld things like trust and–” You closed your eyes. “And love. I had to, um. Earn those things, he said.” Joel made a noise, and your eyes flew open. His expression was dark and angry and you blinked, surprised. He seemed to see your reaction and softened his brow.

“Sorry, honey. That – that wasn’t for you. I don’t like the sound of this guy, might look a bit mad as I listen.”

“I feel pretty angry about it sometimes, too. I did, for a while.” You shook your head.

“Um, but anyway. He didn’t… I’m not sure he actually liked me, you know? More that he liked having someone to control. But there wasn’t really any love in that relationship, not after he swept me off my feet at the beginning. He never did things for me, like nice things, and when I did things for him he would only tell me how I didn’t do them right. It was…” you looked away, trying to decide how much detail to give, how much you needed to say right now. You shook your head and looked back to meet his gaze. “I’ve had a lot of time to work through it, I guess. Not that I’d say I’m over it. But like the other day, sometimes I react based on my experiences with him, not based on what’s happening right now, in the moment. He cheated on me, a lot. He used to tell me things like that were my fault, because I wasn’t good enough.” You felt Joel’s grip tighten on your hands and looked down. “I was with him for almost two years. It wasn’t like that the whole time, but you know, it ended up there by the end. I just–”

You looked back up, but the look on Joel’s face made you lose your train of thought. He wasn’t angry anymore. Or he was, a bit, but he was also looking at you like you were breaking his heart. “Joel? Are you–”

“Don’t ask me if I’m ok,” the words rushed out of him and he stopped, taking a deep breath. “I– I am so sorry that happened to you. I don’t, shit,” he trailed off, eyes dancing over your face. “Thank you for telling me about it. I promise, sweetheart, I won’t–”

You cut him off. “I know, Joel, I–”

He whispered your name again and shook his head. “Let me say it, please. I promise I won’t ever treat you like that. If I ever do anything, anything at all that even hints at how he treated you, please tell me. But you should know Sarah would probably kill me herself. If Tess and Frank didn’t get to me first.”

You smiled. “Joel, Beth and Ellie agreed with me that I should tell you a little bit about it today, because we all think you’re a good man. And I want you to know me, you know? This might… well. It might come up again. It probably will. And I wanted to explain, more, after… yeah.” You felt shaky, suddenly, like telling him all of that had taken more out of you than you’d thought. He eyed you and tugged on your hands.

“Can you come over here, just for a minute, honey? Can I hold you?” You nodded quickly and stood, coming around the table to let him pull you into his lap. He slipped his left arm around your waist and his right up your back, cupping your neck and pressing your head down onto his shoulder. The chairs weren’t really meant for this, even if they were sturdy, but you figured a few minutes wouldn’t hurt anyone. Hopefully the waiter didn’t come back.

You felt Joel press a kiss to your hairline, and you sighed into his neck. He put his lips to your ear, and murmured, “I won’t lie, baby, I am so angry that man treated you that way. I don’t…” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I know it’s early, so I’ll just say I care about you. A lot. I’m so sorry, honey. And I want you to know how proud I am, to have your trust.”

You didn’t know how good it would feel to have someone say that to you until Joel said it.

“I know you could tell I was thinking about something when we got here, something I was having trouble telling you.” You nodded into his shoulder and felt his smile where his mouth was pressed against your cheek. “This year for my birthday, Sarah got my watch fixed.” He moved his wrist to show you the watch you’d seen him wear most days you’d known him. “I’d been meaning to do it, never got around to it.” He let out one rueful sounding laugh. “But it’s… You know that feeling, when someone does something for you or gives you a gift that really makes you feel, well. Seen, I guess? Appreciated. Like they really know you.”

You try to lift your head to look at him, but he presses your head down gently. “Sarah knew I’d never get this fixed. She snuck it out of the house to do it, all on her own. It, well. It meant a lot to me.” He cleared his throat. “Honey, you know I like you a lot. I think you like me, too. But when I saw this place, and when I saw you waiting to see my reaction to it, it— it felt like the watch.” He kissed your cheek again, and this time he let you lift your head so you could meet his gaze. He cupped your cheek in his right hand and the look on his face took your breath away.

“I know this is only our second date. I know we’ve barely gotten started. But this feels special, sweetheart. I didn’t want to scare you off by sayin’ too much. This feels like…” he trailed off, and smiled.

You smiled back. “I know, Joel.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours, and you leaned into it, eyes slipping closed. “I feel it, too.”

You sat there together for another moment, but too soon, you pulled back. “I should get back to my seat before the waiter gets back.” Joel nodded, but pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before he let you go.

Back in your seat, you and Joel just looked at each other for a moment. “Should we, um,” you started, but didn’t know how to finish your suggestion. He smiled.

“Want to get out of here, darlin’?” You smiled back, and nodded.

Once the waiter came back you took care of the bill, and Joel guided you out of the yard and through the house with his hand on your lower back the whole way. At the truck you reached to open the passenger door, but Joel reached out to put his right hand on the door, holding it closed.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, and turned you around. He crowded you against the side of the truck and cupped your face in his left hand. “Hey there, gorgeous.”

You smiled. “Hey, handsome.”

“I’ve got a couple more hours before I have to head home, you know.”

“That so?” You grinned. “Well then, I think you should take me home, hmm? Maybe come in, have a drink?”

Joel answered by leaning forward to kiss you, hard.

…

bestie (9:14 PM): how did it go???

you (9:32 PM): it went really well (9:33 PM): he liked the garden too

bestie (9:33 PM): well we know he’s into plants (9:34 PM): did he say anything about it

you (9:35 PM): about Matt? just that he was sorry I’d been through that and he promised not to treat me that way (9:36 PM): he said if he ever did anything like that Sarah would probably kill him

bestie (9:37 PM): as she should (9:37 PM): I’m calling you I need more details that can’t be all of it

you (9:37 PM): lol fine

...

a/n: the taco place is based on a real coffee shop and empanada place I used to frequent when I lived in Houston (Campesino, I miss you), with the addition of a garden I saw somewhere else.

I hope I tagged everyting write for their convo! Don't worry, shitty ex never actually appears in this fic. let me know if you think I should add any tags.

Also, time to share this genius meme from @gasolinerainbowpuddles:

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@secretelephanttattoo it's posted now lol

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fic #x reader #maintenance request fic

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silverbladexyz · 4 months

Note

Hi love! Can I request The Flags and Yukito with a fem s/o who demands princess treatment? I’ve been seeing it all over tiktok and you write all those characters so accurately so I thought I’d request💕

Of course :) I apologise if this wasn't what you wanted, as I tried to base it off of their theoretical love languages 🖤

The images used belong to their original owners.

TW: Mentions of injuries, and uh this ended up kinda long. Chuuya is now included in every request with the Flags. Female reader.

The Flags and Ayatsuji with a female S/O who demands princess treatment

Pianoman:

-You don't need to ask him; he already treats you like a princess. No wait- you ARE his princess :))

-He is the leader of the Flags, and being the leader he is means that he treats everyone with patience and respect, even if he doesn't know them. And it is no different for his beloved S/O; except he treats you with 100x the amount of love, patience, respect, and loyalty than those he deems as his acquaintances

-Pianoman wants to be the perfect boyfriend, and he'll make sure to reflect that in the way he acts towards you. He is a big fan of gentlemanly traditions such as kissing the back of your hand while greeting you or holding the door open for you to pass through, as he views them as the most romantic ways of giving you the love that you deserve- alongside catering to your needs when he can. He's a giver, and he will gladly give everything he can give to you

-He'll definitely call you his princess, and he uses it almost every time he addresses you. It's one of the only pet names that is even deserving of your beauty, and he'll never fail to remind you of it everyday. Sometimes, he'll even call you his queen when he's in a more intimate mood

-Always makes time for you. Even if the Boss ordered for his supernotes to be delivered as soon as possible, Pianoman will still drop everything he is holding and immediately be by your side, ready to listen to every precious word that falls from your beautiful lips. You're the most important person in the world to him; and what kind of boyfriend- no, what kind of man would he be to put his girlfriend after his needs and wants? Even though you do tell him that he doesn't need to be this attentive to you, he still wants to make sure that he's spending enough time with you for your happiness

-He will definitely spoil you! And he's smart about it too; oh, you can't decide whether you want this leather jacket or this silk gown? Why not get them both? Don't worry about the cost, because he's able to negotiate with the salesperson to get a more reasonable price. Don't feel bad about wasting his money, because you're worth every single cent that he spends on you 🖤

-Now he does have a teasing side to him as well... he'd love to fluster you with compliments at any chance he could get. The way you get flustered when he's only telling you the truth make him chuckle quite a bit. Would also be the type to engrave your initials onto his pen so that whenever he's doing his paperwork, the simple texture of the engraved letters brings him a sense of comfort in the dreary time of filling out reports

-Pianoman strikes me as the type to have acts of service as a love language. So he'll not only do all the chores for you, he'll also surprise you with an exquisite breakfast in bed or a lovely bouquet of flowers on your table. And tucked right amongst the flowers, is a small note saying how much he loves you and how lucky he was to be able to call you his <3

-SLOW DANCING IN THE KITCHEN WITH MUSIC PLAYING!! To be able to hold you close, stepping in sync together- it is a very private moment that is only shared between the two of you. He'll dance at whatever pace you're comfortable with, and at the end of it, he'll dip you and look deep into your eyes, leaning in for a slow, passionate kiss

-Surprises you with hugs when you're in the middle of working too. I headcanon that his arms are lean but strong, because pulling wires is no easy feat. Pianoman loves the feeling of you in his embrace, and he equally loves burying his head into the crook of your neck, because it allows him to relax from all the stress he has recently

-He is a craftsman that can make the most realistic supernotes in all of Yokohama, so I guarantee that he's really great at making artistic creations. Pianoman will always handmake your gifts; whether it's an expensive-looking necklace or a fancy bookmark for your everyday use. If you do the same for his gifts too, be prepared to receive affection x10 for the rest of your life :)

Albatross:

-Albatross has probably seen trends of the princess treatment; and when you ask him for him to treat you like that? He'll gladly do it!

-Okay, but he's lowkey adorable when he's giving you the princess treatment. Even though he's like a golden retriever that wants to shower you with hugs and kisses, Albatross is mindful of your boundaries and will only initiate skin-to-skin contact if you were comfortable with it

-But if you love physical affection, then he's over the moon. He'll plant kisses on your cheeks, your lips, your hands; just anywhere that you want him to, really. Albatross knows that he has an image to maintain in public, but he gets really handsy in private. Hugs and cuddles are something you will never be short of, and they're so full of love that you always melt inside when you receive them

-I feel like Albatross is also the type to like play-wrestling with you. He always does it gently, because he never wants to see you hurt; but he does love to tickle you until you're laughing all over. Is also the type of person to pick you up and spin you around sometimes, and place you back down lightly afterwards

-Ah, and don't forget; vehicles of any kind are his forte. Which means that you don't have to worry about transportation anymore, because he'll always arrange it for you (yes, including the way back). And he doesn't just use random cars, oh no. Albatross will make sure that those cars will be high-end and ✨PRISTINE✨. I'm talking about Porsches and Lamborghinis whom are clean and decorated to your very own liking, with interiors so fancy that it could make even celebrities jealous. But your beloved only does it for his princess that deserves the world, which is you 💓

-But if you don't like cars, then that's perfectly fine! This man has a variety of vehicles you can choose from. You want that hot pink motorbike? Just say the word and it's already yours. Oh, you want to work out by riding a bike? He'll make sure that it's custom made and tailored to your taste. Needless to say, he'll very gladly spoil you with any vehicle that you want

-Your lover will definitely throw pebbles at your window at nighttime... just because he missed you. And then, just like Flynn Rider scaling Rapunzel's tower to meet her, Albatross will literally climb in through the window and embrace you in his arms. Sometimes he'll even take you out for a lovely drive in Yokohama, letting you admire the beautiful sights of the city underneath the moon's glow

-But in the calmer moments, Albatross will definitely check up on you and ask you how you were doing. He wants to make sure that you're physically, mentally, and emotionally fine, and that you can tell him all of your troubles. Despite being the talkative and energetic type, he's surprisingly a very good listener; and will definitely comfort you if you were feeling down. Afterwards, he'll do something to lift your spirits up, whether it be cracking jokes and funny stories or bringing you out to places that you liked. He loves seeing you smile, and will do anything to keep you smiling that happy smile

-He'll definitely introduce you to his friends, because he believes that friendships are still important when you're in a relationship. Albatross puts complete trust in you, and he is glad if you get along with his friends too. However, you do notice that he pulls you closer to him when he talks with any of his female friends, clearly signalling that you are the only one he loves

-However, please please PLEASE don't ask him to cook. Now, he is a sweetheart and will gladly cook any meal you like, but it is easier said than done when his cooking skills are on par with my ability to sleep at night (which is bad). If you want, you can teach him how to cook, but you've gotta have a lot of patience for him. Don't worry though, because he can still make instant food taste like heaven for you

-Always is respectful of your interests and preferences. He even encourages you to pursue your hobbies, and never once judges you for what you do or say. Albatross can and will defend you from everyone who thinks otherwise, because to him, those things are what makes you you <3

Doc:

-Doc, upon hearing about this 'princess treatment', is slightly confused. Was he not treating you right in the relationship? But his insecurities quickly dispel when you just explain to him that his best was already enough for you

-He doesn't realise it, but it is noticeable how he is much more gentle, sweet, and affectionate with you than with anyone else. Despite not being as physically strong as the other members of the Flags, he still possesses more strength and knowledge than the average person- and it is due to the fear of hurting you with those attributes that he treats you like his queen

-Definitely has acts of service as one of his main love languages. Doc, ironically, does not about his own health that much. But when it comes to you? You'll find yourself being taken care of so thoroughly that you won't be getting sick or injured anytime soon. He makes sure that you eat nutritious meals three times a day, alongside hydrated and wearing enough clothing for the weather; as well as reminding you to take breaks and getting enough good-quality sleep. Needless to say, Doc always prioritises and puts your needs before his, even in urgent situations

-He loves spending time with you. Doc doesn't want you to feel lonely, and whenever he gets to be by your side, he'll listen to whatever you want to say or do. His full attention is on you, and he will engage in any conversation you initiate, with no sign of his mind wandering off elsewhere even if it was the most frivolous subject that the two of you were talking about

-Oh, but if you liked to be alone sometimes, he is perfectly happy to give you time to yourself. Even though he just wants to be with you at all times, Doc is 100% mindful of your boundaries and respects them. He himself has quite a few boundaries set too, so it is perfectly natural that he abides by yours too

-Now he isn't too physically affectionate, but he is perfectly happy to hold your hand when you take walks with him. He always walks by the curb. No questions asked. You're his queen, and it is only right that you shall be treated as such, even on the littlest and most common of things. Doc wouldn't want to risk even the slightest chance of you getting hurt

-But when you actually do get hurt, this is when he gives you the princess treatment of your life. Firstly, Doc will make sure that you're not in any sort of pain or discomfort while he treats your injuries- he'll even let you squeeze his shoulder as hard as you want if it meant that it relieves the pain. He will work quickly but efficiently; your wound would be cleaned and wrapped up in a bandage before you can say 'Open Sesame'. Afterwards, expect him to do EVERYTHING while you rest and recuperate. Even if your injuries weren't serious, Doc is still going to take over all of your chores while checking up on you whenever he could, because he just wants you to be fully healthy again

-I feel like Doc is the type to get you all sorts of gifts, ranging from books about medical science to different accessories that you could wear everyday. He wants the gifts to be meaningful- so whenever you saw them or used them, you would think of him. And he always manages to make it a surprise; you could never guess what he's going to gift you next. The delighted look on your face when you find another one of his small presents is enough to make him happy for the rest of his days

Iceman:

-Honestly, this man will treat you however you'd like him to treat you (only if it was reasonable). So if you wanted princess treatment from him, he'll happily comply. You deserve to be treated like a princess, anyways

-Iceman is a calm individual with few words to say, which means that he'll mostly listen to whatever you decide to talk about. Same as Doc, he is an excellent listener, and he will remember everything that you mention to him. You could tell him all of your friends' birthdays, and he'll remind you about it when you forget, because his full attention is always focused on you

-Gives you his coat when you feel cold. Even if it means that he'll be the one exposed to the freezing weather, he still gives it to you because he'd rather be the one affected instead of you. Also starts carrying around a spare coat the next time you go out with him, because you insisted that he shouldn't be the one suffering for you, even though he assures you that he doesn't mind it

-Iceman is so observant it's almost scary. If he sees your gaze lingering even a millisecond longer than usual on a particular object, he'll note it down and buy it for you as a gift, even if you've already forgotten about the item you saw. He's also attentive to the slightest sign of discomfort from you. It's too loud? He'll quickly move you to a quieter place. You want to ask for more water but you're too nervous to? He will consult the waiter for you. Someone is making you feel uneasy in public? Your partner will put his arm around your waist in a comforting manner, while keeping an eye on that person to see if they'd dare try anything brash

-He strikes me as the type to like taking pictures of you whenever the two of you do something together. It doesn't have to be a special moment- you could just be tending to a flower, and Iceman would take out a camera to snap a photo of you (with your consent of course). He wants to keep them so he could look back on the memories, and smile as he reminisces those times. Don't worry about him ruining any shot, because he is a pro at photographing, and would gladly take as many pictures of you as you want

-Brewing drinks for you is a must!!! Whether you are a coffee lover like him or not, Iceman will make your favourite drink for you everyday- and they taste even better than the ones you find in cafes. He makes them perfectly, and if you ask him to teach you? He'll be slow and precise, carefully guiding you through the steps of making the drink. But he actually just wants you to relax and leave all the work to him, because he loves showing his appreciation for you through his actions

-He knows that you can handle yourself in a fight; you're not utterly defenceless, afterall. But Iceman will never hesitate to protect you when you need it, and he doesn't care if he himself gets injured during the process. As long as you're safe, then he's content

-When he sees that you're stressed or tired, Iceman will encourage you to tell him about your worries, while giving you a warm and reassuring embrace. He loves the feeling of you in his arms, and sometimes he'll give you a kiss on the top of your head. Don't be afraid of crying in front of him, because he won't judge- instead, he'll hold you and rub your back comfortingly, and afterwards he will make you your favourite meal to cheer you up

-Princess treatment or not, this man definitely treats you right :)

Lippmann:

-Pretty boy is pretty enough to be a prince in fairy tale stories; and he will definitely be the prince to your princess!

-Lippmann has a silver tongue, and you cannot tell me that he wouldn't be complimenting you and showering you with praise at every single chance he could get. However, he doesn't simply tell you that you're beautiful, because that's boring. Instead, he says 'Your smile, your tears, your laugh; everything about you is as ethereal as the goddess Aphrodite, but not even Aphrodite herself can make me fall as deep in love as you.' And he's smooth about it too. So yeah, be prepared to be flustered quite a lot by this gorgeous gorgeous man

-He will also leave notes in places where you could easily find them. And on each note will be a short phrase about how much he loves you, as well as the words being so sweet and encouraging that it makes you melt as you read them. Lippmann will write new notes everyday, just so that you could constantly be reminded about your beauty and how much he loves you if you were starting to feel insecure about yourself

-It doesn't even stop there. When he's feeling more romantic and daring, he will full-on write a letter with several pages detailing everything about you that he finds to be lovely, and how lucky he was to be called yours. What makes it even better is that each and every word on the letter is genuine (he told me himself)

-We all know that he's rich, which means that he would also want to spend his money on you by buying you whatever you want. Whether it be expensive clothing, jewellery, books, anything really- Lippmann would always buy it for you. You are his lady afterall, and he shall treat you like absolute royalty

-Despite having a lot of money, he'll actually ask for your decision before spending it on you. You want to have dinner at the most expensive restaurant in the world? Sure thing! You just want to have a quiet date at home? That's fine with him too! As long as he gets to spend time with you and make you happy

-However, I feel like Lippmann prefers the calmer, softer moments with you. He's always busy with negotiations and acting and whatnot, which means that he can barely catch a break in his line of work. So even when he likes to spoil you, he loves it when he gets to cuddle you on the couch and make you fall asleep in his arms. He treasures every moment he could get with you

-Now since he is so pretty and famous, he has a lot of admirers and acquaintances vying to get his attention. Lots of women will come up and talk to him, some of them clearly with the intent to seduce him with their charms. But Lippmann will politely fend off their advances, while putting an arm around your waist and pulling you closer towards him. He isn't afraid of straight-up telling them that you're his girlfriend, and he will assure you that he only has eyes for you if you start to feel insecure because of those women

-Lippmann is a fan of gentle touches. Includes but not limited to caressing your hand, stroking your cheek, and rubbing your back. But if you don't like physical affection, he's understanding and respects your preferences. Afterall, your comfort is his number one priority

Chuuya:

-Girl, you got yourself the best man for this

-As we all know, Chuuya is a king, and who the king decides to settle for is often named as his queen. But he doesn't treat you like a queen, no. Royalty is simply too insulting of a word to describe how he treats you

-Instead, he treats you like a GODDESS. A divine deity that was simply too good for him- and was so kind that she let herself be tangled together with an ordinary, sinful man who didn't even deserve to cast his eyes upon such loveliness. Chuuya can and WILL give up everything just for you, because you're the only person that deserves all of him and much, much more

-Being a Mafia executive means that he's rolling in money, and no matter how much you protest that he doesn't have to get you gifts, he'll still spend thousands on high-quality items that he knows you'd like. If you don't know what you want, tell him and he'll choose something for you, and his taste is ✨ IMPECCABLE ✨. He'd love to get you matching couple rings and jewellery even though he thinks the precious stones could never compare to your beauty

-Chuuya is extremely loyal, so rest assured that he'll never leave you for someone else. He'll also introduce you to his friends as his lover, and will still treat you as a goddess in front of them with no shame whatsoever. Loves to show you off to his comrades, but he'll tone it down if you're shy or embarrassed about it

-Asagiri said himself that Chuuya respects women, and he will, without a doubt, respect your boundaries, your likings; everything about you, really. Making you feel heard is very important to him, and he would never judge you for anything you do or prefer. Always maintains eye contact whenever the two of you are talking to each other

-Acts of service king all the way around. When you wake up, breakfast is served on the table and your neatly-folded clothes are placed on the bed. Your lunch? Already packed up and placed carefully into your bag. And when you come home, Chuuya's still doing all the chores, no questions asked. However, if you beg hard enough to share some of the load, he'll be willing to compromise (he's still doing most of the chores though)

-But when he sees you tired after a long day of work? Get yourself ready, because this man will pamper you so much that you wouldn't have to lift a finger. Not only will he have finished all of the housework, he'll also prepare a warm rose bath full of candles and scents for you. Then, as he'll present to you an amazing gift that you’ve been wanting for a while, and as you're busy admiring the gift, Chuuya would pour some exquisite wine into a glass for you to savour while you’re in the bath. With enough persuasion, he'll join you in the bathtub, but he is perfectly happy to just massage your shoulders as you relax, while talking about your day. Sometimes, he'll even plant a few kisses on the top of your head, while murmuring how much he loves you

-Would take you flying with his ability. If you're afraid of heights, Chuuya will make sure that he doesn't take you too far off the ground, and you'll find yourself being held a protective embrace as you rise off the ground. Sometimes, if you're feeling up to it, he will twirl you around in a romantic waltz, with the pretty sights of Yokohama serving witness to the love you bore for each other

-Not only is he your king, he also is your protector. If he sees people spreading rumours about you behind your back, or straight-up creeping you out, he wouldn't hesitate to stand up for you and send them a friendly warning with a few words. Nobody gets to badmouth his lover and expect to get away with it

-Always remembers your birthday, and will make it a time that you'll never forget. Needless to say, you're going to be spoiled a lot because it's your special day! You could ask for whatever you want, and Chuuya would buy it for you- if it was reasonable. Takes you to do different things on every birthday, and will even rent out an entire private island for you. I'm not joking when I said that he'll buy you everything you ask for

-It'll be a bonus if you spoil him as well, but he's content with pampering you. If you're happy, then he's happy I love him so much owuajsjdhha

-Chuuya is surprisingly pretty touchy in private. He loves to put his arms around your waist, pulling you close and whispering sweet nothings with his deep, smooth voice. This man also is a fan of planting delicate kisses over your neck, collarbones, wrists- anywhere you like to be kissed, really. His kisses would be light, as he's afraid of hurting you, but he wouldn't mind indulging you if you liked it rough

-Will always return your texts and calls within a few minutes of you sending it. Even if he's busy, he's never too busy to make time for you, and he will apologise if he comes home later than usual. You assure him that it's fine, but he will try his best to finish his work on time so that he could be by your side for longer

-He keeps his promises to you without fail, since he would hate to let you down. At the end of the day, a queen reigns with her king, and Chuuya promises that he shall never stop treating you as his goddess

Ayatsuji:

-'Princess treatment', to this man, was confusing at first. Was it not common sense for him to treat you with respect and love? In his eyes, women should always be treated like queens in a relationship. The fact that this was outlined as 'princess treatment' honestly made him disappointed with most men in today's society

-But he will definitely treat you well! Despite his bluntness and tendency to mock/tease people, he's a lot more soft and kind-spoken with you; a side that he only shows to those he deems worthy of his trust

-Now Ayatsuji does things a bit differently. Sure, he can still hold open doors for you and give you his coat when you're feeling cold, but he tends to treat you like a princess in his own unique way. Such as letting you take the initiative in anything that you want to do with him, and always accompanying you whenever you were going out to do something. His main love language is quality time, and he will ensure that all time spent with you is made to be worth your while

-He definitely will handmake dolls for you. If you liked any particular character in a book or anime, Ayatsuji will model the doll off of that persona, and it ends up being so perfectly alike that it could be sold as official merch. If you want, he'll even teach you how to create beautiful dolls from scratch

-Your partner gives you gifts from time to time, but they aren't generic presents that guys buy for their girlfriends. Instead, he puts thought and careful consideration into each of your gifts, deducing if it could be used in your daily life. And now whenever you use the pen he gifted you, or wear the coat that was your birthday present, you think of him

-Ayatsuji is also the type to buy matching rings for the both of you. He hides his beneath his glove in the daytime, because he doesn't need anybody questioning him about it. But as soon as he returns home to you, he'll take his glove off with his mouth, bringing your hand up to his lips and planting a kiss on the ring that is a reflection of his love for you

-He holds you in very high regard, and this can be mostly seen in the way he speaks to you. While he is cold and emotionless towards others, Ayatsuji is considerate and attentive as he conversates with you, always listening to what you have to say first before adding in his own ideas and opinions. A queen commands respect, and there is no doubt that Ayatsuji gives all of his to you

-Surprisingly good at comforting you. Your lover has a kind heart within him, and he does not hesitate to use it when he sees that you're down in the dumps. He chooses his words carefully, and he actually has more empathy than he lets on. In just a few moments, he'd already have helped you express your emotions, and offered you advice that makes you feel better about the situation you were upset about. Also doesn't mind if you simply wanted him to hold you- he'll hold you for as long as you desire if it meant that you'd feel better afterwards

-Does not even look at the other females that come his way, but anybody would know at first glance that you're his partner because of how he treats you compared to everyone else. Tsujimura is just a colleague to him, and everyone else are mere acquaintances. None of them can even come close to replacing you

-Ayatsuji may have his oddities at times, but just know that you'll always be a princess in his eyes 💝

I feel like this kinda veered off to boyfriend headcanons... but I hope that you enjoyed it :D

@circinuus @riiwrites @sariel626 @chocsra @ruanais @yuugen-benni @angolicious

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daisyvisions · 1 year

Text

Return The Favor (Pt.2)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆ Pairing: Best Friend! Sangyeon x Fem! reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆ Synopsis: After fulfilling a favor for your best friend, you're both left to wonder if it was even a good idea to begin with...

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆ Word Count: 1.7K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆ Warnings: 18+ only (minors dni), mutual pining, neck kissing (again), clit rubbing, cum tasting, ass grabbing, allusions to sex, pet names (sweetheart)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆ A/N: Finally, it's out after 6 months 😭 sorry to everyone who was waiting for this part. I was caught up with requests at the time and scrapped maybe 3 versions of this because it just wasn't hitting right. Shoutout to @jasminexox5 for helping me choose the direction of the story! Love you loads babe 💕

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆ Read Part 1 here!

“This isn’t gonna get weird, right? I mean, nothing's gonna get weird between us?”

Those were the words that kept replaying in Sangyeon's mind the moment you left his apartment. He was too focused on staring at the marks you just left on him through the mirror that he didn't notice how much time had passed.

The tip of his fingers lightly grazed the sensitive skin of each mark, reminding him of your soft, warm lips on him just moments earlier. The thought was enough to get his cock twitching again.

He never should have asked you for this favor… because now all he wants is more.

But is it natural to feel this way about a friend, especially when you asked them to give you something like this? Who wouldn't be turned on?

And it was definitely normal to start thinking about what your lips would feel like pressed against his, or what else could've happened if only that damn alarm didn't interrupt the two of you.

The thought of his hands guiding your hips to roll your core against his erection, the small and cute whimpers you could've made for him. The way you might've called out his name so sweetly and asked for more.

And maybe he would've been able to give you everything you wanted then and there, to make you feel good the way you deserved it. The way you always deserved it.

No. He can't. Not when your friendship is on the line.

It was just a favor, right? No harm, no foul. All he needed was to take a nice shower and get a good night's rest, and maybe the thought of you in his arms would fade away like a passing thought.

Yeah, just a passing thought.

Lunch the next day couldn't have gotten any weirder for the both of you. It was already bad enough that you had to do that thing for Sangyeon yesterday, but now? It felt like you couldn't breathe around him.

Was it because you could see the fresh marks you'd given him on his neck in broad daylight? Or the fact he couldn't keep proper eye contact with you? Maybe you were just overthinking it.

Of course, it was natural for him to moan like that when you were sucking on his neck like a damn vampire or squeezing your hips because you decided to lick his skin too. Wouldn't you moan too if he did that to you? It's nothing special at all.

And if you thought you were feeling incredibly awkward, you wouldn't believe the shit that was going on in Sangyeon's mind right now. The whole time while you were talking, all he could do was stare at your lips.

The thought of your intimate moment together replaying in his mind was enough for him to be placed in a trance. All the things he thought that could've happened if it went further…

“Sangyeon?” He suddenly snapped out of his daze when he heard you.

“Did you hear what I just said?” you questioned him.

“Uh… no?” giving you a bashful smile. You let out a deep sigh before giggling softly.

Sangyeon's heart nearly leapt out of his chest from your sweet sound. Did you always sound this sweet when you laughed?

“I said, are we still on for tonight? Sunwoo's birthday celebration at the bar? Remember?” you repeated yourself.

“Oh, yeah yeah of course!” he replied.

“Great. Pick me up at 7?” you flashed him doe eyes that made his heart pound once more.

“Sounds good.” He smiled at you, trying his best to conceal the blush creeping up on his cheeks.

He quickly stood up and took your bag before you had time to reach for it.

“C'mon. I'll walk you to your next class.”

Sangyeon had arrived at your place earlier than expected. You were in the middle of putting on your makeup and fixing your hair when you heard the doorbell.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I know we're gonna be late. Just give me a moment.” You panicked as you quickly walked back to your room, not noticing how hot Sangyeon looked right now with his all-black attire.

His polo was buttoned enough that you could still see his chest, while his sleeves were rolled up, and he was wearing his signature chain and combed-back hair. He chuckled, seeing you in this frazzled state, and followed you back to your room.

Sangyeon had been sitting down at the edge of your bed while waiting for you to get changed in the bathroom. As soon as you stepped out, he felt like his eyes had fallen out of his skull.

The way the material of the dress accentuated your figure so perfectly. He had to hold back a groan the moment he laid eyes on you. The room suddenly felt hotter than it was moments ago.

Was it normal to feel this way about his best friend? Definitely not. Especially when all he wanted to do was to rip that dress apart and worship your body with his kisses. Oh, how he wished you could just sit on his face at this very mome-

“Sangyeon, can you help zip the back, please?” you asked him.

“O-oh yeah, sure.” he stuttered as he immediately got up from the bed to rush over to you.

As soon as he walked up behind you, you could feel the warmth of his body radiating. The manly spice of his cologne filling your lungs, making you slightly dizzy.

What's even worse was the fact you could feel his breath slightly fan against the exposed skin on your shoulder, making you feel like you were on fire. As soon as he zipped the dress up, he placed his hands on your waist and looked at you right through the mirror in front.

“You look really beautiful tonight. So beautiful….” he whispered slowly near your ear.

“Thank you…” you shyly reply.

One of his hands travelled up to your shoulder to brush the hair back from your neck, the pads of his fingers grazing the sensitive skin making your breath hitch.

He continued to stroke your neck with his fingers until he impulsively kissed the space near your earlobe, making you whimper from his touch. He lowered his head and started to leave a trail of kisses from your neck all the way to the edge of your shoulder, groaning in-between every kiss he planted on your skin.

“Sangyeon….” you moaned.

“Hmm?” He hummed as he worked his way back to kissing your neck. Your eyes slowly closing from the sensation. Is this what he felt when you kissed his neck like this?

“You know, I couldn't stop thinking about you since last night-”

Kiss.

“think I liked it a little-”

Kiss.

“too much.” he mumbled.

“M-me too. Wanted to give you m-more…” you responded.

“Yeah? Fuck, sweetheart, you don't know what you've done.” His hands started making their way down to your ass, giving them a good knead.

“Then show me…” you replied, looking at him with hooded eyes.

“Gladly.” He smirked at you.

Suddenly, his hands tugged the hem of your dress up to your waist in a flash and wasted no time bringing one hand to your front and diving it into your underwear. His two fingers slowly inserted between your folds before he found your sensitive bud and started to circle it around.

Your hips jerked as a reaction before your back started melting against Sangyeon's chest. You could feel yourself getting closer than expected, especially with the way his fingers magically worked on your clit. You felt your eyes closing every passing second he pleasures you.

“Eyes open, sweetheart. I want you to watch me touch you like this.” His other hand instantly cupped your jaw, making you look down at the silhouette of his fingers beneath the layer of your underwear. You could feel his hard bulge digging against your ass.

The sight itself was so erotic, not being able to see how his fingers moved in-between your folds made your cunt clench against nothing. Your wanton moans fueling Sangyeon's lustful desire to circle your clit faster.

“Oh fuck, Sangyeon. I'm gonna-” you moaned out.

“That's it, cum for me. I want you to cum all over my fingers…” he groaned against your ear.

And just like clockwork, you saw a hot flash of white as you came undone in his arms. Your knees turning into jelly from how hard your high had hit you as he tried to hold you upright.

Sangyeon removed the two fingers from your core and instantly sucked on them, moaning from your sweet taste as his other hand kept you close. The sight alone was enough to get you wet again.

You turned around to face him, his eyes looking at you with intense lust and desire. But before you even had the chance to give him any more ideas, you looked at the clock behind him and your eyes widened.

“Shit, we're gonna be late. Let's go!”

As Sangyeon drove you both to the bar, you felt your phone vibrating in your bag.

“Where the hell are you guys? I've been trying to call you both many times!” Sunwoo drunkenly shouted over the phone.

“We'll be right there, don't worry.” You replied.

“If you don't get here in thirty minutes, I'll-” Sangyeon grabbed the phone from you and ended the call.

“What was that for?” you questioned.

“He can wait….” Sangyeon said while placing his hand on your thigh.

“….You know, kinda owe me one for earlier. Not really fair that you're the only one who came tonight, don't you think?” he glanced at you quickly with a smirk on his face.

“Oh yeah? What else did you have in mind?” You teased him. His smile getting wider from the thought that entered his head as he swerved the car to the side of the road.

Looks like the both of you are going to be more than thirty minutes late….

#lee sangyeon #sangyeon #sangyeon smut #sangyeon scenarios #sangyeon fic #sangyeon x reader #tbz smut #the boyz smut #the boyz hard hours #tbz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz fanfic #tbz drabbles #kpop smut

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lavendertales · 1 year

Note

love your content sm!!! I've seen people request different heights but I'd THOROUGHLY enjoy joel/frankie/javi/dinxplus size reader if you're comfortable. it doesn't need to be one of those "reader hates their body and the man tells her she's pretty even though she's fat" but maybe just details of wide hips, bigger belly, thick thighs. I personally think joel, javi, and frankie would be all over a curvy girl...

HELL YES! I wholeheartedly agree with you, Joel/Javi/Frankie/even Din would be all up on that... but I'll try to paint a more vivid picture with Joel, just for funsies. I've had an idea for another Joel fic so this request comes in at just the right time😌

Mine || Joel Miller x plus size!f!reader**

summary: calling Joel Miller mine awakens something in him that turns out to be in both your favor.

word count: 1.5k

WARNINGS: established relationship; possessive!Joel, unprotected piv, cunnilingus, a dash of dirty talk, creampie.

A/N: Comments/reblogs are always very much appreciated! 💕

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!

gif: @manny-jacinto

When you first arrived to Jackson, you wouldn’t have thought things would turn out this way. Hell, this wasn’t even on the list of things you planned for yourself.

It began slow and simple, with lingering glares, followed by tentative touches over the arm and back, and then, desire was born. You didn’t think much of it at the time, but as time went by, there was no denying it.

Joel couldn’t get enough of you.

It surprised you a little, you couldn’t lie; you knew you didn’t fit the beauty standard, but to hell with those. Living in an apocalyptic world meant living from day to day, sometimes even moment to moment, so why worry about such ridiculous things like body image? Joel definitely didn’t care about that. Quite the opposite: he seemed to be far too immersed in the ways he could hold your body close to his. This could be either snuggling up to you at night when he couldn’t sleep, letting you be the big spoon, or causing you to shiver and moan his name on a broken loop when he made love to you and caused your orgasm to rip through your body.

You’ve developed the habit of addressing him by several pet names as your relationship developed—sweetheart, baby, honey, whatever rolled down your tongue in key moments. However, one slipped past your sharp tongue before you could think it through when you saw some woman at the bar trying to put her moves on Joel.

Mine.

You were never the jealous type, not to this degree, but when you marched to Joel’s side with a cocky smile and grabbed hold of his arm, telling the woman “I’m sorry, this one’s spoken for. He’s mine”, you were surprised by your own reaction.

It woke something in Joel, too.

The whole way home he stared at you, sizing you up and down, his heart thrumming in his ears. Mine. You called him yours. You were jealous and territorial, and something clicked inside of him.

Once the door closed behind you two and you could finally breathe into the chilly air, Joel stared suggestively at you, his hands on your hips, teasingly tugging at the hem of your shirt.

God, how he loved the way you felt under his touch. Soft in all of his favorite places, flesh spilling from in between his fingers when he kneaded it harshly, the smacking, wet noises when he buried himself to the hilt inside you and your skin turned red.

Fuck, it always gets him so hard just thinking about it.

“Before you ask, yes, that was me being jealous or… whatever,” you rolled your eyes.

“Why?”

You were half amused and half shook that he would feel the need to ask such a ridiculous question.

“What do you mean ‘why’? That woman was all over you,” you replied. “She was ready to give you a lap dance if you stared at her for an extra five seconds.”

Joel scoffed, sneaking a hand underneath your shirt and rubbing your back and your soft belly. He could instantly see the flush of your cheeks, the auburn reaction to a mere touch, and his breaths nearly stammer in his throat.

“Why would you be jealous?” he asked in the most ridiculously calm tone. “I’m yours. You said so.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed and already feeling a burning craving when his hands move to the front of your shirt to unbutton it.

“I did,” you admitted, gulping.

“Say it again.”

You flashed a faint smile as you remained topless before him and Joel’s mouth peppered kisses on your neck. “You’re mine.”

Joel hummed somewhere in the crook of your neck. He glued your flushed body closer to his, and you felt the outline of his cock poking against you. His lips found yours not long after, all the while his hands massaging your breasts, tweaking your nipples till they pebbled under his touch. Your hands roamed all over his broad shoulders and muscly back as you grew needier and more impatient.

You knew Joel could well be rough and harsh, and you expected him to bend you over and take whatever he wanted from you, but you’re once again surprised when he instructed you to remove the rest of your clothes and get on the bed. You did as you were bid, breathlessly staring at the rushed way Joel disposed of his own clothes and parted your legs, kissing his way up your thighs.

He had a bit of an oral fixation, as you liked to tease him sometimes. He spent a whole lot of time kissing and biting your thighs, and of course, he could’ve spent hours buried in between your legs, making you fall apart in his mouth over and over till you cried in overstimulation. He loved your full thighs, the way they felt when you crossed them around his waist. He loved your hips and your belly, the way the skin there bounced when he fucked you rough and fast from the front, and the way it jiggled when he held onto you from the back. You were ethereal, a gorgeous woman plump in all the perfect places.

Joel licked a wet stripe between your folds, earning the first moan from your side. He grabbed ahold of your thighs, keeping them in place, and began to eat you out like a man absolutely famished.

“Joel—fuck… oh my—“

You tugged on his hair once his tongue darted in and out of you, and you began to squirm. Joel hummed in your pussy, maybe even muttered something, but there was only so much you could focus on. And you didn’t even get the chance to warn him when you felt that familiar, much-needed burn in your stomach. You simply came on his tongue, soaking his mustache and beard, the sight causing you to blush as Joel came up for air.

He grinned in utter delight, bending over to kiss you roughly, giving you a taste of yourself.

“Joel,” you could barely breathe out. “Please—“

“Hm? D’you need me to fuck you?”

“Yes, please.”

He couldn’t deny you, or his own craving. He knew he probably wouldn’t last long, but fuck, he desperately needed to feel you, to watch mesmerized the way your tits bounce along with his thrusts.

Hand curled around his cock, Joel guided himself to your soaked entrance, entering you in one swift thrust. He started fucking into you without any time for adjustments, his hands secure on your sides. He was holding onto your hips so harshly you believed there’d be some bruises there tomorrow, but you couldn’t care less about that.

You felt him deeply, big and thick and borderline desperate, just the way you liked him.

“You like it this way, darlin’?” he teased, leaning down to bite your earlobe.

“Fuck, yes—“

“You like takin’—all of me in your—pretty cunt? Is that it?”

“Yes—“

Pleasure and pain alike prickled your skin, blossoming into a deep ache inside of you, but damn if it wasn’t blissful.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous—“Joel grunted. “Say it, again—say it—“

You knew what he wanted to hear. You couldn’t believe that a possessive pronoun could get him this hot and bothered, but if it did, you were all for it.

“Mine—you’re mine, Joel M-Miller—“

“That’s right, that’s—fuckin’ right—yours—”

“Mine, no one else’s—“

“Mhm—all yours, darling—you take me so fucking good, look at you—fuckin’ soaking me—“

He was pushing his cock so far deep inside you that it downright felt as if he pressed a button, that little button that made you see stars, and you instantly knew it wasn’t gonna be much longer.

“You gonna come for me, hm?” he smiled above you, delirious with ecstasy at this point. “Gonna soak my cock, hm?”

“Yes, yes—“

“You get so tight—when you come, shit—lemme feel it, darling, c’mon—“

You couldn’t handle it, all the sweet talk mixed with his filthy words. You felt tears in the corners of your eyes, stealing blurry glances at the fast way his cock was vanishing inside your cunt.

“Touch yourself,” Joel commanded, and your hand bolted in between your legs, frantically rubbing your clit. “Atta girl, there you g-go—“

His own orgasm hit much harder than he expected; suddenly you were rubbing circles around your clit while Joel stroked himself to completion partially inside you and all over your soaked folds and plush belly, painting the messiest canvas you’ve ever seen. When you do come, it’s blinding and ecstatic, and you moan a series of cuss words and his name. Always his name when he brings you to completion.

And now, the word mine as well.

Joel pecked your lips, smiling before adding, “You’re mine too. Don’t you forget that.”

You smiled back at him. “Never.”

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allinthemagicshop · 6 months

Text

Not How I Wanted to Meet Your Parents

Bangchan X Fem!Reader

wc: ~3000

Angst, fluff at the end

Again, this makes me cringe a little bit looking back at it but also I think I see some potential to grow from this so here's yet another from my vault

No warnings that I can think of, besides pet names maybe? Insecurity, crying also present. Some cursing.

I do not own the rights to Stray Kids or anything related to them, this is a work of pure fiction and just for fun

Channie💕: hey babygirl, I’m so sorry. I have to stay late at the studio again. I’ll just go back to the dorm instead of waking you up so don’t wait up. I’m sorry.

I crumpled into myself. Texts like these have been coming daily for the last three weeks straight. Every single date night was canceled, always for the same reason. I can’t bring myself to think of it as an excuse. That would be he is trying to find ways to avoid me. Unless he finally realized that I’m just holding him back from creating more, creating better. Maybe I am just a pawn to find inspiration in, like a learning experience more than a loving one. I lay my phone down on the nightstand and glance over at the sweatshirt Chan left the last time he stayed the night. It’s been nearly two months since then, his scent long gone. Instead of replying, knowing I wouldn’t get a response, I leaned over and shut my lamp off. Maybe in my dreams he would love me again.

●●●

The morning light shines through the small crack in my curtains. I sit up, rubbing my eyes as I lean over to grab my phone. No new messages. My heart sinks. This is the part I was dreading the most. Never had Chan canceled a date night and not immediately tried to reschedule. So this is it then. Taking a shaky breath, I shut down my phone. It’s no better than a paperweight right now when all I’ll be doing is waiting for him to reach out first. It’s childish of me, I know I could reach out first, but that brings more brewing of hope that it isn’t over if he responds. Or worse yet, if he does respond and confirms that it’s over.

Letting my despair guide me, I shuffle towards the bathroom. Turning on the shower, I peel myself out of the clothes I wore to sleep in and step under the cold water. I don’t want warmth, that’s what he was. I just want to hide in the rain and gloom as these thoughts take over my body. It’s not like I can pack up and move out, we don’t share an apartment. Changing the code to my apartment is a possibility, but then I have to let all my friends know the new code and explain why it had to be changed. The only other option I can come up with is going back home for a few days. I moved to Seoul for school, but my family was back in the States. It’d give me the distance I need, and maybe some home cooked meals would heal the hole in my heart. I know Dad would pay for it, he’s been asking me to come home for a couple months now.

Taking a deep breath, I shut the water off and wrap a towel around me as I step out. Sighing, I walk back towards my bed and sit down at the edge. Bracing myself as I start my phone back up, I immediately call Dad as soon as it allows me to. “Hey! I know I’ve been delaying coming back home but I really miss you guys. I have the next two weeks off and was wondering if that would work for you and Mom?”

“Darling, anything works for our little girl to be back in our arms. Give me a second to look at flights. How long would you need to pack? We still have plenty of your clothes here, you know.” Laughing a little as I struggle to keep my composure, I glance around the room. “I can be ready to go as early as tonight then.”

“Really? There’s a flight that leaves at 5pm, your time. You’d have a couple hours to pack. Is that enough time?” His giddiness is almost palpable through the crackling speaker. A genuine snort forces its way out. “Sure, Dad. Thank you, I love you and I’ll see you soon then.” I stand up as he replies, “I love you so much, honey. Your mom is going to be so happy to have her baby back home for a while.” I hang up a little after a little more farewells are exchanged, insisting that I need to start packing. I make the mistake of glancing down at the screen before I get changed.

Channie💕: good morning, sweets. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can attempt to reschedule. It’s so hectic here with the comeback so soon and the album not being near ready enough. We’ll talk soon

Dread coils my gut, nearly knocking me over. That’s two messages without the words I need most. With shaking fingers I finally respond back, Oh okay. I love you. I throw my phone on the bed and walk away towards the closet, changing quickly. I refuse to look at my phone again until I have a suitcase packed.

●●●

Almost two hours later, I finally find the courage to pick my phone back up. Checking the time, I notice two notifications: one text and one email. Unlocking the screen, my heart shatters. Both are from Dad. The email is the flight information, informing me that I have around an hour to get to the airport.

Father Dearest: y/n, I forwarded the email with all ur flight info. Oh, honey, I can’t explain how excited I am to have u home with us. If u haven’t finished packing yet, good luck. Love u!

Sighing as tears finally fall down my cheeks, I order an Uber to take me to the airport. I know I should text Chan, but I can’t bring myself to allow even the possibility of going unanswered again. I’ll let him know before the plane takes off, using the cushion of the flight to allow me the escape I’ll need.

An agonizing 20 minutes pass before I’m climbing into the Uber. I spare a glance up at my apartment as we pull away. A part of me hopes he’ll show up to find me gone before I can even text him. It’s selfish and petty, but I just want Chan to feel a part of the agony I’ve been feeling. A simple conversation might be able to solve all of this, but we haven’t been able to have a solid 5 minute conversation in the past month, let alone one long enough to require what needs to be said. He couldn’t even get time off for a quick phone call on our one-year anniversary last week. Tears are slipping down my face before I know it. I quickly rub my sleeves over my face, not wanting the driver to ask questions.

We finally pull up to the airport and I climb out, thanking him for the ride. I barely feel present in my body as I walk through the motions of the airport. Next thing I know, I’m sitting in my seat staring out the window. The announcement comes that phones need to be turned off soon. Taking a deep breath, I prepare the text for Chan.

Hi, Channie. I want to start off by saying I’m not mad, I completely understand. You’re an idol and I knew this was going to be difficult when I agreed to be your girlfriend. I guess I misjudged exactly how difficult it would actually be. I want to thank you for the last year. You were such a blessing in my life, crashing into me and claiming your spot in my heart. I don’t know if you feel the same, I can’t talk to you anymore to confirm or deny my suspicions. The distance between us recently has said more than we’ve been able to. I’ve decided to make it more physical for a little while. I’m headed back home for a couple weeks. I know the timezone difference is going to be hard to communicate, but we’ve gotten so used to it that it shouldn’t feel any different. If this is goodbye, all I ask is that you just remove your stuff from my apartment before I get back. I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger. I do love you, Chan. I just miss you too much to keep this up.

I hit send just as we begin our take-off. Shutting my phone and my feelings off, I lay my head back and drift to sleep, keen on waking up only when I can step off the flight into my parents’ arms.

●●●

I didn’t last the whole flight, but the last few hours were filled with reading the book I had packed just in case sleep evaded me. It was enough to not think about Chan, but never enough to dull the ache in my chest. We finally landed and shuffled off the plane, all heading towards baggage claim. Refusing to turn my phone back on, I felt like a robot on autopilot as I followed the crowd. I grabbed my suitcase and squared my shoulders as I prepared to face my family. They knew about Chan and I’s relationship, but I don’t want this trip to be about my broken heart. I walk out the doors and it takes me only a minute of scanning before I hear my name being shouted seconds before Dad barrels into me, lifting me off my feet in a hug. Mom wraps her arms around me as he sets me down, tears falling down all our faces.

“Oh my baby! You’re finally home! I’ve missed you so much.” Mom sobs into my shoulder, holding me tighter than should be humanly possible. I hug her back before tapping her shoulder, in need of oxygen. She pulls back with a relieved smile. “I have your favorite dinners planned for the whole time you're here. How’s Chan?”

My own smile falters for a split second before I straighten myself out. “Oh, you know, he’s just busy with his comeback. I had plenty of time to myself to make an impromptu trip,” partially the truth, just not the whole story. I can work with that easier than an outright lie. I smile at both my parents as they nod in understanding, Dad grabbing my suitcase to put in the car while Mom pulls my hand to get us going. The ride home is full of small talk about how work is going, how school was this last semester, how they are enjoying Dad’s new bonus from work. I fall into a comfortable silence as they keep the conversation flowing between them.

●●●

After dinner I finally find the courage to turn my phone back on, it’s been nearly six hours since I landed. It’s early morning back in Seoul, close enough to a full day since I sent the text to Chan. As my phone turns on, I’m bombarded with notifications. Missed calls and texts, nearly all from Chan.

Channie💕: Baby what?

Channie💕: You didn’t actually leave did you?

*two miss calls from Channie💕*

Channie💕: Y/N please answer me. I can’t stand this, don’t leave me. I love you so much

Channie💕: I know I haven’t seen you in a bit or been able to talk to you but I don’t want to lose you

Channie💕: Baby please be at home, please let this be some cruel prank

Channie💕: You’re really not at home. Oh my god, baby please come back to me. I can’t lose you please don’t do this I love you

*four missed calls from Channie💕*

Channie💕: I get it. Baby, I understand it’s hard. I should’ve tried harder for you. You mean so much to me. I fell into my typical work pattern and left you out, I’m so so fucking sorry. You’re a priority too and I neglected that. I need you

Channie💕: you went back home… for fuck’s sake I screwed up. I just saw the date. Oh my god y/n im the worst. I didnt even take off for our anniversary. You were waiting for me to even acknowledge it and i couldnt even do that. I fucked up so bad

Channie💕: Babygirl… i feel like i cant even breathe right now, my heart’s been ripped out and flew across the world with you

*eight missed calls from Channie💕*

Channie💕: okay okay, I know this is getting excessive and I get that you’re on the plane but you should’ve landed by now. Just let me know that you’re alive.

Channie💕: My sweet girl, I will fix this. Fix us. I can’t imagine going through life without you in it.

Channie💕: I hope what I’m about to do doesn’t further break us, I love you so much, to the moon and stars beyond

The last text sent my heart into a stuttering stop. What did he mean by that first part? A wave of relief followed by anxiety floods my system. The last text was sent almost four hours ago. Tears welled in my eyes as I listened to the multiple voicemails he left. All practically the same as his texts, only I could hear the voice breaks and sobs between words. My heart cracked open and pain seeped through me.

Chris what are you doing? I understand that you’re busy, you don’t need to apologize, I’m the one who couldn’t handle it. We can talk when I get back, just focus on the album. Maybe with a longer time to plan we can sit and have a proper conversation. I still love you.

I chewed on my lower lip nervously as I waited for his response. After staring at the screen for nearly 30 minutes with no reply, I sighed as I assumed he just had to go back to work, blocking out the relationship that was sinking underwater. I quietly changed and crawled into bed. One last glance at my phone showed no new notifications. Tears flooded my face as I turned over in my childhood bed, resigned to sleep until the pain subsided.

●●●

I woke up to my mom shaking my shoulder. Blinking, I turned over to her, my face swollen from crying until I passed out. “Oh honey, I’m sorry to wake you up but there’s someone here to see you,” Mom bit down on her lips, like she was trying not to smile. I sat up and grabbed my phone, realizing that I’d slept for nearly 14 hours. “Okay, who is it?”

Mom shook her head and finally let the smile break free. “I think you should check for yourself, they said they’ve been wanting to see you for a while.” I cocked my head, confusion etched across my face. She just smiled brighter as she backed out of the room. “Just get dressed and I’ll send them up in a couple minutes. They’re finishing some tea up with your dad.” Tea? Dad doesn’t even like tea, he’s a die-hard coffee lover. Confusion still clouding my mind, I walked to my closet, ignoring the suitcase on the ground and threw on a sundress I had left here. I didn’t know who was waiting or how formal I had to be. I quickly threw my hair into a braid before checking my face in the mirror. The puffiness wouldn’t be able to go away in time, as I already heard rushed steps up the stairs. It finally dawned on me that whoever it was was being sent up to my room. Who would my parents have me meet in my room instead of downstairs with them?

As soon as the thought finished, my door was practically kicked open. I had less than 2 seconds to process who it was before arms were around me and squeezing me almost as hard as Mom had at the airport. Instantly the familiar scent hit my nose and I reeled back, surprise taking over the confusion and tears welling up faster than ever before.

“My sweet babygirl, you think I could handle two weeks with you in another country across the world after what I did?” Chan smiled as tears streaked down his face, clearly wary of my reaction. “I- fuck. I’m so sorry for everything,” he fell to his knees in front of me. “I didn’t expect to meet your family like this. Hell, your dad’s first impression of me was with tears streaming down my face and blubbering out what I did before I was even invited in,” Chan laughed at himself a little. “Of course, then I was immediately brought to the kitchen where he had me sit down and explain everything. I felt like such an idiot saying it all out loud. I wouldn’t have forgiven me if I was him. But then he said it wasn’t up to him, it’s your decision on if I should get kicked to the curb.” I stood in silence, staring down at him. He wrapped his arms around my legs, shaking from the sobs he was clearly holding back. “Baby, my y/n. I don’t even know where to begin. I screwed up so tremendously. The company couldn’t even stop me before I had booked a flight and had Bin race me to the airport. Felix called me a moron before I left,” at that he leaned back and rubbed the back of his neck.

“He’s not wrong.” I sunk down to my knees to be level with him. His eyes widened and tears still silently slid down his cheeks. I shook my head as I pulled him to me, finally hugging him back. “You’re a moron for coming here when you should be working on the album. But I don’t think I’ve ever loved you more. We can get through this. I just- it sounds so selfish- but I needed to truly see if you still wanted this. This was more than I ever expected.” I pulled back to look him in the eyes, bringing my hands to his cheeks to wipe the tears away. I leaned forward and connected our foreheads, breathing in his presence.

His words were barely a whisper as he breathed them into our shared space. “I thought I lost you. I swear on my career that I will change for you. You mean too much to me to watch you slip away again. I love you more than words can express. To the moon and stars beyond, my angel. Always.” I closed my eyes at his confession, breathing in the love he was giving back to me.

“How about we go back downstairs and reintroduce you to my parents. Since, you know, you’re meeting them now.” I giggled softly as he stiffened.

“Can we hold each other a little longer first? I look like a mess and it’s been long overdue to have you in my arms again.” I fully laughed at that. “Of course, love. You’re mine, they can wait to see the best version of you while I piece it back together for a bit.” He pulled away and stared at me. Without another word, he launched into a tackle, hugging me like he would never let go.

#skz x reader #stray kids #skz imagines #skz #skz angst #bang chan #bangchan skz #bangchan x reader #bangchan imagines

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onetoomanyfandomfixations · 2 years

Note

i saw your post on mc that calls them by pet names, what about an mc that calls everyone babe, darling, hon, and stuff like that without thinking. if possible, could you include the dateables and platonic luke? thanks.

Thank you so much for requesting @witheringvex !! I hope you enjoy, as well as anyone else who reads this :))

Big love 💕

Obey Me Datables w MC Who Uses Pet Names Without Thinking

DIAVOLO

Just accepts it as a general human thing at first

Like Asmo, naturally bounces off you with pet names in return

Is particularly fond of using “my dear”

Unintentionally starts mirroring you and starts to do it out of habit as well

He once said “Lucifer, my dear, come have a look at this.”

This is all Your Fault

Lucifer was quite upset

Makes you explain that, yes, these are names of endearment in the human realm as well

And that they’re generally reserved for loved ones

Congrats, you’ve just made Diavolo’s year 🎉🎉

Wants you to know that you are also very dear to him

BARBATOS

Doesn’t really bother nor phase him

Understands that its just force of habit to you

So, win/lose situation

Win - he doesn’t get jealous (not that he often does)

Lose - assumes that it will Forever mean Nothing

Therefore, generally doesn’t use pet names in return

BUT WHEN HE DOES

OOOH BOY

lookit this suave bitch

Calling u beloved

Is very proud of himself when u inevitably swoon

SIMEON

DOES THE SAME THING

So doesn’t really think twice about it

U N L E S S

It’s one specific to him

“oh i’m pretty boy?”

YES U ARE

His go to’s are “sweetheart” n “darling”

Intensifies around animals and children

Also takes it one step further

Casual physical affection

A L L. T H E. T I M E.

“platonic” cheek kisses, holding hands etc.

Doesn’t mean to fluster anyone

Just wants the people he loves to feel loved

SOLOMON

This dramatic b i t c h

Goes Straight to his ego

U have to give him a personalised pet name

Bc he Will refuse to respond to anything else

And if you get flustered easy???

HOO BOY

Mans is having fun with this one

It’s a competition now, you see

How embarrassed can he make you today??

If your nicknames are Ever insulting

He is SO offended

You insult solomon???

JAIL. JAIL FOR MC FOR ONE T H O U S A N D YEARS

Plays dead

LUKE (platonic)

He’s not a little kid okay >:((

He doesn’t need your silly nicknames

You will call him by his name, and he will call you yours

“look at my baby go!! aw i’m so proud of him”

HES NOT A BABY >:((

But you’re proud of him 🥹?????

Okay, Maybe he can turn a blind eye to it

At least you don’t call him Chihuahua

But he better not catch ANYONE ELSE referring to him as a baby

Except maybe Simeon

Only if he’s proud of him as well

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me dateables #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #solomon x reader #platonic!luke x reader

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stararch4ngelqueen · 8 months

Text

A Helping Hand (18+)

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!reader

Warning: Smut. Fluff and smut. Shower sex, unprotected sex. Light foot injury. Use of pet name Bunny. Word count 2.8K

Summary: Kyle was the first friend you made, and still remained your closest friend to this day. You believed nothing could ever change that, no matter how many times you both found yourselves crossing barriers friends shouldn't cross. Maybe their was always something more hidden underneath the flirty jokes, especially after a single ‘incident' a week prior.

Thanks so much to @mutuallimbenclosure for helping me recover this!! As well as @glitterypirateduck 💕

And also @baufraus just cause 😅

~~~~~~~

"How're you feeling?" Kyle asks once he enters the rec room, seeing you lounging on the old, dark brown corduroy couch, a bland navy colored book in hand.

"Bored, bored and bored." You replied, closing the book after failing to register reading a sentence of the page you've been stuck on. Nothing else was really new for the past week.

Being stuck on base for your "minor" leg injury was the most ridiculous thing you've ever had to deal with during your time in the military.

It wasn't like you couldn't walk, but you were prevented from attending missions for a reasonably fair while.

"Brought you something to cheer you up, love." He extends his hand, offering you small wrapped bundles of pineapple candy.

"What kind is it?'

"Same flavor of sweet I offered you the first week you arrived here. Remember?"

Of course you remembered the first day you arrived, especially recalling the kindness Kyle Garrick offered you to feel comfortable in your new setting. That very day you learned that pineapple was his favorite flavor of candy, to which you made it a priority on a good behalf to always share that flavor with him when you had access.

"Aww, thanks." You smiled, moving aside to give him some space to sit. Taking a candy for yourself, you tossed your book to the table ahead of you, lounging back onto the couch, being mindful of your wounded leg as he stepped by.

You've been tackling that novel for three hours now, not that big of a story." He sat back on the couch, resting his arm back over the top of the cushions behind your shoulders. "Must be very interesting, yeah?"

"It's dreadful," you sigh, popping the candy into your mouth. Despite the captain's orders, as much as it warmed your heart that Price cared, you downright found it annoying just how much he did, preventing you from going out and doing what you actually signed up for.

"Oh believe me, must be tough going from a bloody fine sniper to simple couch bunny." Kyle commented, gazing on ahead after using his teeth to yank the candy from the wrapper into his mouth, chewing down after a few seconds.

Smiling at his comment, you get a little more comfortable, sinking further back against the cushions, aware of his sleeved forearm slowly settling along the back of your neck.

"Couch bunny? What happened to potato, huh?"

"Eh," he shrugged, "You don't look worthy of being called a spud. Too simple."

"Too simple??" You huffed in utter amusement. "You could do a million things with a potato."

"Yeah," Kyle smirked. "But they aren't as cute as you are Just trving to be honest here."

What a flirt he was.

"Calling me a bunny is just ironic, telling how I'm supposedly too injured to run out into the field." You rolled your eyes, chastising again at the fact that a sprained ankle was considered more than enough to hold you back from doing your job.

"Whatever you say, bunny." Gaz snarkly mutters, growing amused at your annoyance.

Instead of irritated by any means, you could only get yourself to smile bigger at his relentless teasing.

Is he in love with me?

You can't help but question this silly, innocent little thought you had. A quiet one, one he didn't need to know of just yet.

Despite the countless times the both of you shared throughout your friendship, via amused, not-so-subtle glances and snarky jokes tilting on the border of friendly and flirtatious, ranging from silly at first towards downright mischievous.

The stares drew a little longer, the accidental touches roamed a second further, the brush of his hand along the back of your shoulder now left your skin tingling.

His new pet name for you did much more than make you blush, but thinking things such as these...

Not to mention what had happened in the armory between you both merely a week ago.

You would've brushed it off as merely all in your imagination, purely out of boredom, but it even occurred when you weren't injured, long before that even, when it was just the both of you in the privacy of your friendship. The word alone being the most polite one you could think of to describe whatever occurred between you both.

Not only that, Kyle played along so willingly, no risky comment bothering him in the slightest, yet always remaining so respectful on your behalf making you wonder if it truly was all in your head.

"Why're you being sweet on me lately, Kyle?" You curiously question, watching a small smile stretch across his face as he peered at you.

"Because you're my fellow comrade, fellow Sargeant, an' my friend. There's no harm in helping you out when you're hurt."

You giggled again, finding your cheeks tingle with a comforting warmth.

"Keep talking like that, my heart's gonna melt."

"As long as it's in my hands, believe you'll be alright."

You meet his gaze, utter surprise stretched across your features. As quickly as so, your brows softened the longer you looked into his eyes, adoring the beauty of their rich, natural brown color, marveling in the lost message he shared to you without saying a word of it.

He is in love with me.

You proceed to sit up, making Kyle's brows raise in surprise, concerned that his comment may have taken things a little too far. "You alright?"

"Yeah," you nod, wincing slightly as you move your leg. "Yeah, just need to get out of this room already."

"Need to be carried somewhere, bunny?" He questioned with a hint of a tease, watching you immediately look back to him, an unsuspecting glimmer in your eyes.

All the plethora of not so innocent teasing, the brush of his hands along your hips as he helped you to your room, your hands lingering too long along his broad chest and biceps, led up to you gently being supported against your bathroom door the second it shut behind you, looking Kyle in the eye as he supported you in his arms, becoming the wall of security you needed.

He admired your body as he helped you wash it, His eyes following the curve of your natural physique; your arms, your plump hips, the curves of your ass. He truly believed he could spend hours in this tiny shower just taking you all in, if it weren't for the battle of arousal the two of you were quickly losing.

You found Kyle still, somehow, managing to be a gentleman, helping you wash along your chest, sudsy calloused fingers halting before the valley of your breasts. He would keep mindful while roaming along your waist, though his eyes weren't so hidden in their longing glare, convincing his hands to settle along your hips, encouraging you to press yourself against the Sergeant.

He hesitated for a moment before hooking his arms under your knees, lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

He carefully balanced you, leaning you back slightly against the tiled wall for leverage.

You let your hand explore his chest, stroking the muscles that decorated his chest. Broad, toned and well sculpted like a greek god, glistening with warm water and residual steam.

You feel his abs brush against your stomach, your hands taking in every curve of muscle along his back, feeling yourself tingle in delight from running your fingertips along his exposed, hot skin.

Your mouths were merely inches away from each other by now, a loving warmth flushing your cheeks, sprinkling heat against his face in utter excitement and nerve wracking love budding like a rose between you both.

"You could have just told me if you wanted to take a shower with me, Kyle. You teased softly, watching him smile and keep his gaze on you alone.

"Trust me, this doesn't even scratch the list of things I wished to do with you, love." Your lips hovered just slightly over his as you spoke. You waited to hear him suck in a sharp breath as you finally kissed him, reveling in adoration from the familiarity of his lips from last time.

His cock, throbbing impatiently against your thigh, was difficult to wrap your hand around, you noted as your fingers dipped lower passed the V-Line of his pelvis.

Brushing against the flushed, weeping tip with your thumb, your fingers curling against the almost velvet-like skin, reveling in the obvious fact that he was hard.

Really hard.

"Christ's sake." He murmured, kissing down the side of your cheek softly as his arms resecured their hold on you. The underside of his cock stroked deliciously through your folds, rubbing directly against your clit once he guided you properly against him, creating an uneven, eager dance between you both, fueling the urge you so desperately wanted to satisfy.

You kept your arms secured tight around him whilst moaning your sighs of delight in his ear, the man refusing to even allow the soles of your quivering feet to touch the tile ground.

"Fuck, You like that, yeah?" His lips stuck to your neck, sucking marbled bruises into your skin. What do you want from me? Want me to take what's mine, love?"

Saying this, he bucked himself hard against your core, restraining a grunt against your skin as you whined.

You cling to the back of his head, tangling your fingers through his coarse, wet hair.

"All you gotta do is ask." He states before waiting for your answer, providing gentle reassurance, proving he wouldn't once judge you for saying otherwise.

"Please, You exhale breathlessly in between hushed breaths of air.

His hands slipped lower, squeezing handfuls of your ass in his palms.

"Please What?" He carefully asks.

"Please Kyle," you look at him with the sweetest of pleading eyes, speaking his name like the richest of honeys dripping from your tongue. "I need you."

You sounded absolutely gorgeous, his heart aching his chest with every beat, still in awe that this was happening.

"Are you sure?" He asked with caution in breaking this daydream as his forehead pressed to yours, water dripping off his chin down to your chest as you cradled his face in your palms.

"Kyle, please. I need you.”

You needed him. He couldn't count how many times he imagined you saying such simple words in his head, genuine with their grand meaning.

At this point, you weren't sure if Kyle was playing dumb on purpose just to get a rise out of you, or if he was relying on that genuine reassurance as the final push.

He gave a soft grin, stealing your lips in yet another sweet, passionate kiss while guiding the tip of his cock against your slit, having you both wince at the contact.

Your walls were soft, hot and slick from pure arousal and utter need, encouraging him to slip inside with such ease.

Severe chills shot down your spine, despite the temperature of the shower remaining the usual lukewarm. Your mouth remained open as you tilt your head back, forcing yourself to relax as he willfully slips inside.

He resecured his hold on you while his cock stretched you open, encouraging your walls to invite him in until he slowly, but almost bottomed out inside, remaining as still as he could, battling against his own patience to fuck you agsinst the tile walls until each piece shattered.

You rolled your hips the best you could in this position with a needy little whine. You drew his earlobe into your mouth, suckiling softly there before whispering for him to not hold back, to fuck you like he always wanted.

To take those fantasies of him claiming you in the unlikeliest of places, to pretend it was the two of you alone in the privacy of a hushed corner in the armory, to imagine that the simple, innocent kiss you both shared there continued further than that, revealing to him how you wished he fucked your sanity out against the very table you had leaned against, recalling how he cradled your chin with such a featherlight, caring touch before squeezing your throat as your nails scratched down his back, raw lust threatening to cloud your heads both then and there.

"Please." Came your soft, guttural plea. The cherry on top of the filthy, sugary sundae.

There was something about your tone of voice, or maybe it was just feeling your warmth throb around him that made him buck his hips into you with a low groan before proceeding at a frantic pace, the fat beads of water clinging to your skin bursting upon impact as skin hit harsh against skin, nails digging through muscle as your cries drew even louder.

You squealed in response, digging your nails into his back as your head settled back against the wall. It didn't take long for both of you to fall into a steamy, eager rhythm, the air between you quickly being filled with soft little pants and moans, greatly mixed with sharp, nasally grunts and muffled moans against your neck. You pressed your face against his shoulder in a vain attempt to quiet yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist to hold him as close as possible, feeling your own release approach quicker than you would've wanted.

You raked your nails down his back as his thrusts began to slow, making up for the pace via bucking into you harder, hearing the hitch in your whines as his cock hit against your 9-spot, quickly adjusting his grip on your hips so you wouldn't slip.

"That feel good, love?" He purrs against your neck, feeling you frantically nod.

"Yeah-fuck. Please, don't stop." You reply through quick speech slurred in between multiple whines, scratching down his back as he thrusted repeatedly inside you.

"God, you feel-" his deep tone cuts off with a sharp, throaty groan, "-So fucking good."

He grunts against your neck, his nails digging into your hips as he bucks deeper into you, encouraging you to break through your self inflicted chains of restraint to moan louder.

"Christ, once you're better, you're gonna be bouncing in my lap like a true little bunny, y hear me?" He grunts low in your ear while guiding your hips along, feeling you clench with his words. "You're gonna take my cock real nice and deep, like a good girl, an' you're not stoppin' till you're well fucked an' full."

Never in your life would you have expected such unique speech from a soft speaking, well-mannered man, but you absolutely adored it. Everyone had a different, hidden side to them, one that he gladly revealed now, one you'd revel in and sink your claws into for as long as possible.

Your fingers find hold of his dog tag chain, drops of water rippling off the steel as you give a light tug. This alluded him into kissing you once more, tasting the remnants of sweet pineapple on his tongue.

"You gonna do that for me?" His hand reaches up to hold your face, guiding you to look him in the eye via caressing your cheek, leaving you to admire his handsome face contorted in pleasure, dripping with residual water.

"You gonna become my little fuck bunny, love? My little doe-eyed sweetheart? Fuck- you gonna take my cum like a good girl, yeah?"

Frantically, you nod to every single word, your end teaching you faster with the mix of his words and change of pace.

To guide you further, his hand went lower once abandoning your cheek, giving your breast a delightful squeeze.

To guide you further, his hand went lower once abandoning your cheek, giving your breast a delightful squeeze before pressing his thumb against your clit, rubbing light circles to feel your hips buck against his.

It didn't matter if this went too fast, you both had each other now. The time for longer sessions would come later, but for now, Kyle had to see you come. He had to see how your brow furrowed as your orgasm rattled your body, to feel your back arch against his palm, to experience the impossible squeeze of your cunt gripping him for dear life, providing him a sensation he'd work tirelessly to feel again and again.

Seeing you now, your furrowed brow releasing as your lips parted to exhale the most beautiful cries he's ever witnessed, made him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

"Oh-Goddamnnit. Shit." Kyle grunted lowly, his voice cracking towards the end of his tone from the feeling of your walls squeezing his throbbing cock, groaning the moment rich spurts of his hot, white cum splattered across the insides of your soft, gushy pussy.

His head settled against yours, groaning richly through his nose as his orgasm washed over his shoulders, clutching you close as you rode through yours, clinging to him for that security you craved.

Not once did he drop you, or show any signs of loosening his grip. Even in the love sick, honey sweet haze that fogged both your minds, he was sane enough to not set you down, not wishing to risk harm to your injury any further.

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz smut #Gaz smut #gaz x you #gaz x reader #gaz x female reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty gaz #modern warfare smut

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steviewashere · 3 months

Text

In Sickness and Health

Rating: General CW: Discussions of Medical Issues, Referenced/Past Seizures Tags: Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Future Fic, Older Steddie, Canon Divergent, Steve Harrington has Seizures, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Breakdowns, Hurt/Comfort, Angst & Fluff, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is giving them space when they need it."

💕—————💕

Eddie has learned to revel in quiet afternoons, even when he’s alone. The way the sunshine bathes the apartment’s living room carpet—his and Steve’s apartment. Their cat, Poncho, settled heavy and warm in his lap. A chilled glass of southern iced tea and a plate of crackers and sliced cheese. The television volume on low. Book open and set on the arm of the couch. It’s good, the quiet.

Yet, it breaks the moment the front door opens. He didn’t hear Steve stick his key in the lock. But he definitely hears his annoyed groans and huffs. The slam of the door, most likely shut with his hip. A muffled, “Damnit”, when he drops his keyring on the floor.

He peeks from the edge of the couch, eyes set and attentive at their front door. And Steve is there, wrestling with his puffer jacket, grumbling under his breath, kicking his legs and stepping on the backs of his sneakers—something he never does, he cares too much for those things. But here he is. One t-shirt stuck on a doorknob away from a breakdown.

Though, Eddie doesn’t chastise him for the way his emotions express. No matter how explosive they are. Steve just gets like this some days. Too angry to talk. Too begrudged to take care of his things.

What’s new, however, is Steve’s slightly splotchy, puffy face. Red and pink and white. The tears brimming in his eyes. Ever apparent even behind his glasses. A paper with professional scribbling on it—a doctor’s note. He had an appointment this morning. Made last night after an emergency room trip. A seizure is what put him there. Scared them both, Eddie too eager to make him take an appointment, to call in sick to work. He should’ve gone with, if this is how Steve’s coming home.

He plops Poncho on the couch, letting him stretch skywards and curl back into a little ball. Tea abandoned on the coffee table. And Eddie gently comes around the corner, hands hooked in front of himself, still dressed down in pajamas, eyes wide and expecting at Steve.

“St—“

Steve shakes his head. A hand held out in front of him. Jacket and shoes abandoned by the front door. And he sidesteps Eddie completely, barreling down the hallway, slamming the bedroom door behind him, and locking it.

Eddie lumbers after him, slowly, cautiously. Face to the wood of the door. And through it, what breaks his heart, he can hear Steve’s soft cries. He resigns himself to some time on the couch. Steve always needs his space after breakdowns like these.

Needed it after Max woke up in the hospital, half-blind, limbs mostly healed. Needed it after Eddie came out of surgery, pock-marked and head shaved, half a grimace on his face. Needed it when Robin moved out of state for college. After Dustin and Lucas and Mike and Will and Eleven and Max all graduated high school, when they went their separate ways across the country, when they called once or twice a month. When his dad died, the grief a heavy blanket on his shoulders, his chest lighter, his brain angry at being relieved.

Steve needed his space when Eddie brought home their cat (though he came out merely ten minutes later, an excited smile on his face, name on the tip of his tongue). Nightmares and dissociation episodes. At the grocery store, because he has to stick to a list, knowing that Eddie never does that. The first grey hair, which he then took in stride when Eddie called him a “Beautiful baby silver fox.”

Even after they moved to Massachusetts in 2008 and got married. His emotions were so strong, so palpable, so rapid—he just needed a moment to debrief, take a hot shower, and then cuddle into Eddie’s side on their honeymoon bed.

Point is, Eddie knows when Steve needs his space. Knows that he cherishes that time to himself, to break down in contemplative silence, to let himself digest new information or old information or just get himself restrung.

He wishes that Steve had been taught that it’s okay to breakdown in front of his loved ones. That it’s okay to ask for help and for comfort. But it doesn’t come easy. It makes him guilty. It makes him scattered like a headless chicken.

For the mean time, Eddie sets himself down on the couch, iced tea in his grip, volume turned up slightly on the television. Steve doesn’t like it when people hear him cry. Eddie doesn’t acknowledge it either, for the sake of saving Steve from another impending breakdown. He loves Steve with all his might, he just wishes things were slightly different. He’ll do this, ever reluctant he may be.

——— Around thirty minutes later, an average amount of time for Steve, the bedroom door creaks open. Eddie quickly turns down the TV and gently places his now empty glass on the coffee table.

Small, floating from the hallway, Steve calls out, “Eddie? Can you—“ He sniffles, voice still choked up. “Can you come in here, please?”

The sight that Eddie wanders in on breaks his heart a little further. Steve’s face is still a splotchy mess, his eyes downcast and teary, waterlines pink. His hair, grayer now, is askew. There’s a definite slump to his body, where it rests on the edge of the mattress. Hands intertwined between his legs, fingers locking and pulling one another, socked feet shuffling on the rug. He got out of his day clothes, now back in his pajamas from the night before—sleep shorts, grey t-shirt.

Eddie closes the bedroom door behind him. He scoots over and kneels down on the floor. Hesitantly, he sets his palms on Steve’s knees. He rubs the inner skin, warm and soft, with his thumbs. “Whatcha need from me, baby? Ask me to do anything, I’ll do it.”

Steve sighs, breath shuddering as it leaves him. His exhale ends on a little whimpered hiccup. Instead of answering, he grabs the paper he was holding earlier and passes it over. It’s edges are wrinkled, probably from being handled roughly, maybe even scrunched. And Eddie was right, it’s something from a doctor’s tablet. Signed off with a messy scrawl:

— Instructions for handling seizures. — What to do if a seizure lasts longer than five minutes. — Steps on how to start the process of getting a service animal. — Firm directions telling the patient to not drive. — Prescription for Tegretol CR 200mg

And the diagnosis in thick, blocky, bold black text:

Epilepsy

Eddie sighs through his nose. He swallows thickly and looks back up to Steve’s defeated face. He murmurs, “I should’ve gone with you. I’m sorry, love bug.”

Shrugging, Steve mutters, “Thought I was done with the after effects of the shit back in Hawkins. I’m so—Angry? Disappointed? I don’t know how to feel.”

The paper is set back on the mattress and Eddie pulls Steve into his chest. He rubs a hand down the length of his spine, the other squeezing around his waist. “You’re allowed to feel however you want. And it’s okay to take the time to figure that out, too. This is hard stuff, baby.” He sways them from side to side. Closing his eyes in relief as Steve’s arms wrap around his back. Something that, unfortunately, doesn’t happen enough when he’s in need of comfort. His hands grip tightly to the back of Eddie’s t-shirt. Eddie gently turns his head and kisses Steve’s cooling, still ruddy cheek. “We’ll start figuring this out. Like we always do. I’ll be right here for you, alright?”

Steve nods against his shoulder. Muffled into Eddie’s neck, he asks quietly, “Can I have some more space and alone time?” He shifts to slowly release Eddie. “Just for a little while. I promise I’ll hang out. I just needed to tell you, so that it’s not harder later.”

He pries them apart gently. Arms still encasing Steve, he holds soft eye contact. “You take all the time in the world. I won’t be offended, sweetheart.” He kisses Steve’s forehead now. When he sits back on his heels, Eddie brings up a hand and runs it through Steve’s hair, fingernails dully scratching at his scalp. His smile is lopsided, the youngest it’s been since the first confession. It comes easier now, “I love you, you know that? I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Steve murmurs, barely returning the smile, and yet it’s there. Eddie revels in that, too.

And when Eddie goes to exit the bedroom, door almost shut behind him, Steve calls out his name one more time. Looking back, Steve swamped in their comforter, glasses folded on the bedside table, wrapped up and warm, Eddie tilts his head in careful implore. He hums in question.

“Thank you for understanding,” Steve whispers.

“Thank you for telling me, I know it was hard. If you need anything, I’ll be in the living room, okay? I’ll keep the TV low, but tell me if it’s too loud.” Steve nods, shifting under the blanket further, fully supine on the mattress. He looks more relaxed. He looks a little easier. “Have a good nap, love bug. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 6 #heed the tags #I promise it'll be okay

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makeyoumine69 · 1 year

Text

All I Want for Christmas Is You

● Pairing: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

● Summary: You and Patrick need to get ready for the upcoming Christmas party, but suddenly your preparation turns out into something spicy.

● Warnings: 18+/ NSFW as always! │fluff (kinda), teasing, nipple play, body worship, finger sucking, sensual blowjob with titjob & handjob, fingering, biting and marking, sweet dirty talk, heavy daddy kink, praise kink, sassy reader vs sassy Patrick, cum play & swallowing (a lot of cum coz that's me lol), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pet names.

● Wordcount: 3.4k

● A/N: This is gonna be my final fic for this year, I hope you like it! 👉👈 P.S. When I came here 3 months ago I didn't expect my writing to get any attention! I want to thank everyone who supports me-it means a lot, and I love you all!💕

● Useful links: │Main Masterlist│ │My fav AP Christmas edit│

The Christmas frenzy was in full swing as there were only a few days left before the most magical day of the year. Pierce & Pierce was organizing its annual Christmas Party, and you were lucky to be a part of this “joyous occasion”. But to be honest–you were not happy about it at all, as you didn’t like to be surrounded by self-absorbed Wall Street yuppies for a long time. Unfortunately, you had no choice but to accept Patrick’s invite as you knew how important this event was for him–for his ego to be specific.

“(Y/N), how long are you going to sit out there?” Bateman’s irritated voice resounded through the bathroom door as you were sitting in the tub, trying to relax.

“Uh… Just a few minutes!”

Suddenly, you heard the door open as he came in, grumping even louder: “Few minutes was almost an hour ago!” “What?”

“Stop pretending, Sweetie,” Patrick nearly growled, frowning all the time as he was drilling your back with his angry gaze. “It’s almost 3 p.m. and you haven’t even tried on any of your new dresses! What are you even thinking?!”

Damn, he seemed to be furious–you thought, turning around to see him standing near the door, with a scowl on his face and his shirt sleeves rolled up. “Okay! I’m almost done.”

“Just so you know–we need to be at Paul Allen’s house in 4 hours.”

“I remember! You don’t have to repeat it all the time, better give me a towel please,” you asked him, extending your hand. “And who is Paul Allen, anyway?”

“Oh… You don’t need that information,” Patrick stated sternly, wrapping a white towel around your body. “Just trust me it’s a very important event.”

Smiling, you let him gently pull you out of the bath, enjoying each second of being trapped in his muscular arms. “But why?” pleased with yourself for being so bratty, you didn’t even touch the floor when you felt a harsh slap on your ass. That itching sensation made you flinch in his hands as you howled unhappily: “T-that was completely unnecessary..”

“I don’t agree,” he placed you on the ground in front of the sink, turning away from you as he was about to leave. “Sometimes, I think you may even like it. That’s why you behave like a brat, dont’cha?”

“Who knows?” You chuckled in return before you leaned on the sink, arching your back and slightly swaying your hips.

Hiding his hands into the pockets of his elegant pants, Patrick couldn't help but let out a gasp while his eyes were ravenously traveling around your pretty shape; the picture of you, standing so seductively in front of him, expelled all his current thoughts as he couldn't even make a move.

“(Y/N)...” He called out your name in a suddenly raspy voice.

“Mmmhm?” You rejoined and looked at him while rubbing a body lotion over your cleavage. “Patrick, what is it?”

“Relax, Princess,” he murmured softly, watching your hands sliding against your wet skin. “Just wanted to say–how beautiful you are.”

After these words, Bateman gave you his most cocky smile before he pushed off from the wall, disappearing into his bright bedroom.

For a moment, you stood still, feeling your heart flutter from his unexpected but sweet compliment. Not that he didn’t say such things at all, but Patrick was that type of man who liked to be praised rather than to praise someone else. Wrapped in your thoughts, you came back to your skin routine as the clock was ticking and you still had so many things to finish.

You eventually finished your routine and left the bathroom to collect the dresses you needed to try on, which were carefully sitting on racks in his bedroom.

“Oh Gosh…” you looked over them, gliding a hand across the expensive fabric of one dress. “How am I supposed to make a choice?”

You heard his sassy chuckle behind your back and then, his hot breath brushed against your neck as he was about to press a gentle kiss. Snorting discreetly, you allowed him to encircle your waist and press against his firm frame; this innocent physical contact coaxed a muffled moan to fall from your parted lips, especially when Patrick rolled his hips against your ass to make you feel his rock-like hardness.

“You’re not gonna make it easier, right?” you tried to laugh it off, sensing his kisses going lower by the second. “Damn, these dresses must cost a fortune.”

Suddenly, Patrick stopped his assault on your neck and after leaving a sensual hickey on your shoulder, he whispered: “You don’t need to think about it. How many times did I tell you?” he squeezed your buttocks, pulling you tighter to his chest. “Are you going to start trying them on?”

“Uh-huh,” you muttered, playing with the collar of his shirt to tease him. “But first, I need to take care of this big problem in your pants,” in confirmation of your words, you palmed his hard groin, not losing eye contact even for a second and watching his lips curl into a voiceless moan. “Don’t you think?”

“Princess…” Bateman growled, holding you closer as he pushed himself into your palm.

“That means ‘yes’, I suppose?”

Hot and bothered, Patrick gave you a stare full of lust before he snuggled into your neck to leave a tangible bite on your soft skin and whispered: “That can mean whatever you want, baby.”

“Mm-mh, Daddy….” You whined into his ear as you started to grind against his hard bulge, feeling the growing need inside your womb along with the slickness between your legs.

The way you called him, closing your eyes as you were about to lose yourself right here and right now–encouraged him to lift you like a feather and moved towards his bed, kissing your face, neck, and cleavage wherever he could, while his brawny hands were exploring your mouth-watering hips.

Thrilled, Patrick sat on the edge of his big bed, his hands still worshiping all your pretty curves as he couldn't get enough of your body–that was literally beyond his power. Gently, you pushed him to lean on his elbows as you were about to undo his belt and his pants. Burning with impatience, Bateman looked down at you with how your hands were working on freeing his painfully hard cock, and then, he let out a muffled groan when your wet tongue finally contacted his hot flesh.

“Arghhk-keep going, girl,” Patrick snarled in a low voice, throwing his head back from the way your lips were playing with his blushing tip, licking off all his pre-cum from it. “You look like a sexy little angel with your mouth wrapped around me like this…”

Each word he said–every single one, was awakening something crazy inside of your gut as he was the only one who could appeal to your primal instincts and free your mind completely.

“I love how you taste, Daddy…” you mewled, taking a quick break. “Do you want to cum on my boobies?”

Innocently, you looked at him from under your lashes whilst your hands were undoing a white robe you were wearing, and then Bateman had to bite his lower lip from the open sight of your exposed breasts as his mouth was uncontrollably watering.

“I wanna taste these little sweet peaks of yours,” Patrick stated as he sat up with no delay, pushing his heated face against your tits and latching his mouth around your tight nipple.”

“A-awww! Mmmp-please, take both of them,” whining, you tilted your head and arched your back to make him more comfortable before your loud moan echoed in your head as he did what you were asking for. “Y-you’re going to make me… Pass out with p-pleasure… aaa-aahhh.”

Shaking like a leaf, you were briskly stroking his dick and running your fingers through his now fluffy hair with your other hand; the feeling Patrick was giving to you, suckling both of your nipples with his large palms encircled around your sensitive boobs, made you see stars and your legs got weak, so you had to lean against him for support.

“Baby, we just started…” Batman exhaled lustfully, burying his face in the hollow between your breasts, and then he continued his ministrations by taking them into his mouth one by one. “Mmm-hm, can’t get enough of these delicious boobs.”

“Pat… Patty, I love your mouth so much…” Whimpering, you wrapped your both hands around his head, pushing your fingers through his messy brown hair.

“And that’s all?” he paused and looked up at you, as you were sitting on his lap, burning his skin with your body heat. “You only like my mouth?”

His unhappy expression almost made you laugh–so grumpy and cute at the same time; you couldn't help but pinch his right cheek before you kissed his lips to shush his upcoming outrage.

“Oh, Daddy… How silly sometimes you can be!” You murmured, tracing a finger against his soft lips.

“Don’t test my kindness, little one…”

“Believe me or not, but I want to test something else…”

With a light but demanding push on his chest, you compelled him to rest on his elbows again, while you got down on your knees. First, you let yourself enjoy the feeling of his tight muscles, gliding your hands all around his perfect torso and paying extra attention to the notable vein under his navel by pressing a wet kiss on it, and then you leaned over to his groin, leaving behind a trail of sloppy pecks. Huffing, Bateman leaned up a bit to see you playing with his fully erected cock; you were swirling your tongue around his tip before you placed his dick between your breasts, rubbing them against it–this scene forced a loud groan to erupt from his mouth as he fell back on the bed, sensing himself on the verge of self-control.

“Fuck… P-Princes…” he cursed and pressed a hand to his forehead, as the friction your boobs were making felt mind-blowing. “Don’t work too hard, doll… I still need to… To f-fuck you.”

“Whatever you say, Daddy.” You gave him a cunning smirk before you took his swollen tip into your mouth as you kept brushing your tits against his hard length, squeezing them to make the physical contact even more intense.

Consumed by passion, you were moaning around his hot flesh, bobbing your head up and down at a quick pace and leaving him no chance but to close his eyes from overwhelming bliss and then, Patrick had to cling to his knee as he was watching his thick cock sliding between your juicy boobies.

“Damn, I’mma cum if you don’t stop… A-aggh, b-baby…” He muffled through his gritted teeth as he was so close to reaching his high.

Swiping his swollen tip with your tongue, you looked at him to tease him even more: “We both know you don’t want me to stop, do you, Daddy?”

With that said, you suddenly change your strategy of making him lose his mind, as you let go of your breasts to palm his heavy sac and massage them while your swollen lips were slipping along his full length. Drooling like a fucking fountain, you allowed his disk to thrust deep inside your mouth–you could feel it with the back of your throat; that harsh stretching sensation caused your eyes to water and your hands to claw at his legs.

Meanwhile, Patrick was about to go into full feral mode, chasing his release as if his life depended on it. “What a bratty needy girl…” groaning, Bateman grabbed a handful of your hair as he was about to combust from the inflaming lust. “Ahh… Are you gonna drain every drop of cum out of me?”

“Mmm-hm, yes!” nearly sobbing, you sped up your actions and looked into his dark eyes, rubbing his cock and balls at the same time. “Cum for me, Daddy… Cover me with your cream!”

With a guttural loud sound, Patrick squeezed his hands into fists as the level of stimulation was at its peak, coaxing his thick shaft to throb into your grip and paint your boobs white. Tilting your head, you arched your back, letting his hot seed spread all over your clavicle and run down between your breasts.

Breathing heavily, Bateman removed his slightly wet traces from his face–little drops of sweat were flowing off his tense forehead. “Mmm-my sugar Princess… Made Daddy feel so good…” Patrick crooned as he smirked, patting your head and watching you licking his hot cum off your fingers.

“I enjoyed every second,” you nuzzled against his large palm when he stroked your face before you got up a bit to press your fingers to his lips which were coated with his warm liquid. “However, I didn’t expect you to let us spend our precious time on things like this...”

Without breaking eye contact, Bateman took your soaked digits into his mouth, sucking them and letting out a moan of pleasure that sent an avalanche of goosebumps down your spine. “Well, for such things–I can always find any time… But, baby, please don’t tell me you’re gonna spend another hour in the bathroom?”

Grinning, you caught his lips with yours and that was more than a kiss, as the taste of your different liquids mixed, induced you both to tremble and gasp. “Sorry, Daddy… But I need to have a shower, if only you have something interesting to offer instead…”

Humming to himself, Patrick nodded and pulled you closer to plant a painful hickey on your neck. “You think you’re bold enough to play with me like that, little one? Why do I even need to suggest something when I can simply have my way with you?”

The moment Bateman suddenly squashed your buttocks, a pitiful wail fell from your plump lips and that only spurred him to tighten his grip on you but then; Patrick turned you around, with your back pressed against his bare chest, your legs resting on his wide-open knees. When he touched the thin fabric of your underwear, a loud whimper resonated against the walls of his white bedroom as you couldn't control how your body was reacting to his every move.

“A-awww... Pat-mmmhm.” Wrapping your hand around his neck, you moaned into his ear when he moved your wet panties to the side and slipped a finger into your needy pussy.

Watching you quivering in his arms, Bateman sat more comfortably on the edge of his bed, opening you up even more whilst he was peppering small kisses along your cheekbone. “I don’t think you’ll need them anymore…”

With that said, he ripped off your underwear before he added one more finger, sending you almost over the edge with how he was stimulating your most sensitive spot.

“Your fingers… You have such l-long… Fingers,” resting your head on his broad shoulder you let him finger fuck you as deep as he wanted to. “Can I cum… P-please?”

“Please, who?”

“Please… D-Daddy…”

“Mmmhm,” he mumbled in a raspy voice, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head as you were about to burn out like a match right into his arms, because the pleasure became simply unbearable. “You just need a firm hand to know your place... Dont’cha, baby?”

Shivering, you nodded so vigorously in response as right now you were in desperate need of his “hand” as your inner muscles began to spasm around his skillful digits; your toes were curling erratically and your peaks became so tight you thought they would explode, not to mention when Patrick pinched one of them, rolling it between his fingers.

“Aa-aah, mm-my… G-god,” your miserable attempts to pronounce something ended up being cut off by his hot mouth as Bateman was kissing you hungrily, consuming your tongue whilst his fingers were twisting inside you, extending your vivid orgasm. “P-Patrick… Aww-www…”

Ruined and conquered, you gave him an innocently begging glance and he read it right away: “I know baby, I know…”

Encircling your waist, Patrick pressed his forehead against yours as he continued his sweet attack on your overstimulated cleft, stretching your inner channel as he would not let you rest even for a second.

It didn't take long for you to cum again–his experienced fingers knew their job too well; you had no chance from the very beginning. Fidgeting around his knees, you had to cling to one of them from how your body was shaking, your ravenous moans were all that Bateman could hear at that moment as he was gently kissing your neck, holding your waist to keep you in one place.

“Such a good girl for Daddy,” after you went limp into his powerful arms, he slipped his fingers out of your bruised pussy. Copying your previous move, he pushed his digits into your mouth to clean them up, and then he locked his lips on yours and it seemed like you were so far away from returning from your high. “This is the best gift for Christmas I could ever dream of…”

Lost, you were feeling yourself so light-headed that you couldn't even acknowledge what Bateman had just said–he could not know it, probably that’s why he chose exactly this moment to tell you such frank words–but that was another story.

Within hours, you were almost done with your look for the upcoming evening and the only thing you had left to do was clasp a golden necklace, which Patrick had gifted you specifically for this event. Finishing the last details of your makeup, you winked at your reflection in the mirror and left the bathroom after that.

When you entered his living room, you saw him, standing near his vast collection of musical tapes as he seemed to look for something. Mesmerized by his marvelous appearance, you stayed behind and admired how insanely beautiful this man was: starting with his perfect side profile and ending with his delicious ass, goddamn–you let out a sigh full of adoration when you heard his velvet voice: “Look who’s here,” he chuckled, looking over you from head to toe and grinning happily. “(Y/N), you look sensational.”

A bit embarrassed, you smiled with your eyes, coming closer to ask him for help: “Can you please assist me with this clasp?” You turned around beside him, exposing your neck for better access.

Gently, Patrick did what you asked, not forgetting to press a soft kiss against the mark on your skin he’d left some moments ago; it was barely visible, but not for him.

Heart-warmed, you turned around and nuzzled your nose against his before saying: “Much appreciated.”

“You’re welcome, Princess,” Patrick replied, strolling away to pick up his Rolex watch from the coffee table. “I hope that was the last thing you had to finish, cause we need to leave out right now, if we don’t want to be late… But it seems like we will be late, anyway.”

Amused, you were watching him going back and forth, fixing his elegant Valentino suit–only now, you noticed Bateman chose the tie to tone your dress, and that just finished you.

A bit later, when you were standing near the door to his apartment, Patrick helped you to put on your coat when you suddenly asked him a cocky question: “So, are you going to tell me more about the guy who’s hosting this party? Why him?”

First, you heard his tired sigh but then he responded: “It was a decision of my colleagues,” he wore his black leather gloves and continued. “Why are you even asking?”

“Just want to know more about the man who triggers you.” You expressed with no hidden meaning, opening the door and looking back at him.

“What did you just say?” He rejoined in a suddenly stern voice.

“What?” A bit confused, you look into his furious eyes, not understanding what was wrong with your words.

“Mmm, we'll leave that for later.” Patrick declared, wrapping his hand around your waist while he was locking the door.

“I said something I shouldn't have?”

“You’ll contemplate on all these matters after the party,” he said suspiciously with a hint of danger. “Well, if your brain will still have its ability to function after the things that I plan to do with you. And Merry Christmas, by the way.”

Swallowing hard, you looked at the reflection in an elevator door, spotting the devilish smirk on Bateman’s face. “M-Merry Christmas to you too,” you took a sharp breath, feeling the uprising thrill in your chest. “Patrick…”

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