#it’s such a weird feeling i always feel so empty when i finish a really long running show

[timetothirst]

Almost

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN reader

Inspired by this post that hasn’t left my head since I first saw it

Tags: Canon typical violence, you almost die, Ghost is soft in his own weird way, confessions, everyone needs therapy, i’m not British but i’m using British slang because it’s Simon’s POV, if i got any military stuff wrong no I didn’t, sad Ghost

Rating: M for violence and language

—————

You were dying when Ghost realized he loved you.

It started the same as it always did whenever he had to meet someone new, with a quick handshake and a short introduction before he inevitably found an excuse to walk away as soon as possible. He didn’t dislike you, not necessarily, but he was no social butterfly. You were just another face to him, that was all.

Until you weren’t.

He was having trouble sleeping. That was nothing unusual, though. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d got a full eight hours without some kind of interruption, whether it be an owl outside his window that wouldn’t shut up, an inability to get comfortable because of the countless aches in his body, his thoughts just being too damn loud, or something else entirely. Whenever this happened, he’d make his way to the common room and find some way to kill the time while he waited for everyone else, maybe even get breakfast started or put the kettle on if he was feeling nice.

It was on one of those nights, after he’d finished rummaging through the fridge looking for a decent snack, that he saw you. He went to sit on the couch, and there you were. He didn’t realize it was you at first and tensed up, instinctively reaching for his combat knife (which wasn’t there, of course, since he was in his sleep clothes). At first he was baffled. How did he not notice you coming in? He wasn’t losing his edge, was he? Letting his guard down?

But then he saw the half-eaten packet of crisps in front of you and realized you’d been there the entire time, sitting in the dark, in complete silence.

“Fuckin’ hell…say somethin’ next time, yeah?” He told you, finally allowing himself to exhale.

“Sorry, I didn’t know whether or not you were going back to your room, and I didn’t want to bug you, so-“

“S’fine.” He interrupted with a wave of his hand, sitting on the opposite end of the couch and grabbing the remote.

—————

“Am I missing something here? Why’s he acting so weird all of a sudden?” You asked, staring at the screen in confusion. This was the third question you’d asked in as many minutes, but Ghost didn’t seem to mind. At the very least, he wasn’t giving you death stares or walking away from you, so you figured it was okay.

“Pon farr.” He stated, not even glancing over.

“Am I supposed to know what that means? It sounds like a weird disease…” Ghost side-eyed you as you said this and scoffed quietly.

“No, it’s not a- look, just watch, will you? They’re about to explain it.”

You rolled your eyes, but did as he said anyway.

“Oh my god…so, he can only have sex once every seven years? And if he doesn’t, he’ll just…get really pissed off and fuckin’ die?” You laughed in disbelief, then ate the last of your crisps and tossed the empty packet into the trash.

“Nah, Vulcans can mate whenever they want. Pon farr’s just a biological thing that causes…well, s’ called plak-tow, but it translates to ‘blood fever.’ Means they’ll go mad if they don’t-“

You couldn’t help but snicker, slapping your hand over your mouth with a snort when Ghost’s head snapped toward you. He looked at you with an expression that could melt steel, which would have scared you shitless under any other circumstances.

“…Seen this one.” He grumbled as an explanation, looking away from you and back at the TV screen. He crossed his arms, his face hardening into its usual scowl.

“Yeah, I can tell.”

You spent the rest of the night asking Ghost increasingly complicated questions about the show, and despite his exasperated sighs and frequent eye rolls, he answered every single one.

—————

He just kept running into you, it seemed. Sparring, target practice, and of course, your late night binges of Star Trek, whenever the two of you happened to be up at the same ungodly hour. You sat on your designated couch cushions and laughed at the awful special effects as Ghost told you to ‘shut it and watch,’ though he was sure you could see him smiling through the fabric of his mask.

As much as he hated to admit it, as cliché as it sounded, his days really were a bit brighter with you around. You filled the silence when nothing else did, joked with him, spent time with him…he’d even noticed a few little things you had started doing, things that were specifically for him. Like the night he’d taken out a pack of smokes, only to realize that he’d lost his lighter. He groaned in annoyance and went to put them away, but then, there you were, holding out a lighter of your own, the small flame reflecting in your eyes.

“The lads and I must be a bad influence, eh? I swear I remember you tellin’ me that you don’t smoke.” He’d said to you after rolling up his mask just past his lips and taking a puff of his cigarette.

“I don’t. But you do.” You replied casually, shrugging as if you’d just said the most obvious thing in the world.

“And with the way you keep losing your lighters everywhere, you’re probably spending half your paycheck replacing them!” You added, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

Ghost rolled his eyes and told you to piss off, but he never bought another lighter after that.

—————

Price started pairing the two of you together on missions; citing the fact that you got along, as well as the way your combination of skills made you effective and deadly in the field. You were a good team, that was all. You got things done, and you got them done well, no matter the circumstances.

And then everything went to shit.

You had already suffered a dislocated shoulder and pretty bad slash wound, both to your dominant arm, so you were stuck clutching a pistol in one hand while the other dangled uselessly at your side. Almost all of the enemies had been taken care of at that point, but you were making a final sweep of the building in search of any stragglers.

Two seconds. Two goddamn seconds he looked away from you, but that was all it took. Five gunshots rang out in short succession, no doubt from an assault rifle of some kind. You screamed, shot a single round from your pistol, and two bodies thudded to the floor.

Ghost’s heart dropped. He charged into the room, looking around frantically. As badly as he wanted to rush to your side right that second, he knew he had to assess the situation first. He’d be of no use to you if he was dead, after all. The first thing he noticed was that you were breathing, and your attacker wasn’t, probably because they had a sizable hole in the side of their head. Ghost dropped to his knees next to you, trying to calm himself enough to properly check your wounds.

You looked so small lying there, curled up on your side with your face contorted in pain. A shudder wracked your body, blood beginning to pool as Ghost placed a hand on your shoulder. He gritted his teeth and turned you over. As expected, you screamed bloody murder, the movement causing your body to be jostled.

“Shit. Shitshitshitshit-” He muttered, his hands hovering over your body. Before he dared to do anything else, he reached for his radio.

“Bravo 0-7 calling for immediate medvac. Repeat, immediate medvac.” He spoke, unable to hide the tremor in his voice.

“Acknowledged. Requesting location.” A voice crackled over the speaker. He barked back your coordinates, along with an order to hurry the fuck up before disconnecting and turning his attention back to you.

“This is gonna hurt.” He warned.

He undid your vest, and his large hand immediately made contact with the most serious of your injuries, that being the bullet wound in your side. He pressed down hard in an attempt to staunch the bleeding as best he could, and your scream of pain was enough to make him feel as though he’d been shot himself. You seemed too shocked to speak, your breath coming out in short gasps, punctuated by anguished sobs.

“Shh. I know, I know…hey- look at me, yeah? Just keep lookin’ at me.”

Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he felt helpless. But here, now, as he stared down at you, it was the only thing he could feel. He wished he could be angry instead, but right now there was no one to direct that anger towards. Your attacker was lucky you’d managed to kill them before he got the chance to, or he’d have beaten them into a pulp with his bare hands and left them to rot where they fell as punishment for even fucking looking at you.

“Ghost-” You croaked out, your bleary eyes focusing on him momentarily. He shook his head.

“Simon.” He whispered, his own name feeling foreign on his tongue. You stared at him in confusion for a moment, but then your eyebrows raised and a look of realization appeared on your face.

“S…Simon?” You repeated. He nodded, tried to smile at you despite everything.

“Yeah…Simon.”

You smiled back through your tears and let out a laugh that quickly turned into a pained wheeze. “That bad, huh?”

Simon didn’t reply. He didn’t trust himself to. You’d see right through it if he lied, he was sure of it, but if he told the truth, he knew he’d break down on the spot. Instead, he gathered you into his arms and curled around you protectively, trying to keep your body warm to prevent shock.

With a start, he realized that this was the first time he’d ever held you.

“I think m’just gonna…rest for a few minutes, if that’s okay…” You breathed.

As he looked down at you, it was clear that you were struggling to keep your eyes open. He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, clutching you tighter and burying his face in your hair.

“No, no, no…not you. Anyone but you.”

Simon Riley had never been a religious man, but he prayed then. He didn’t know to whom he was speaking, but it didn’t matter. He only asked for one thing.

“Don’t let them die. Not here, not now. I’ll do anything. Give them more time. Take me instead if you want. I’ll go in their place, just let them live. Please.”

He knew he didn’t deserve you. He always had, really, but that didn’t mean you should be taken away so cruelly. You should have something so much better than this, better than a cold concrete floor slick with your blood and a man like him trying to hold you together while he himself was breaking from the inside out.

“H-Hey…”

Your voice broke through the haze, and he cursed under his breath, quickly wiping his eyes and lifting his head to look at you.

“Fuck. Sorry, I- i’m right here, love. I’ve gotcha. Nothin’ to worry about, yeah?”

You just nodded. Your eyes were barely open now, your chest still slowly rising and falling with your breaths. You felt around for his hand and grabbed it, the silence seeming to last forever as you considered your next words.

“…I’m really glad I met you.” You finally said.

“Don’t. Don’t start sayin’ shit like that. Makes it sound like you’re-“ He exhaled and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I can’t fuckin’ do this, alright? I know I can be an ass, and I know i’m not the best at sayin’ it, but…I need you.”

Simon looked down at you. You weren’t moving.

His time spent waiting for medvac to arrive was a blur. He held you tight, begged you not to leave him even though he wasn’t entirely sure whether or not you could hear. And when the medics did finally show up, they practically had to wrench your limp body out of his grip.

He had to take a separate transport back to base. he sat alone and stared at his hands, watching your blood slowly dry.

——————

Simon lurked outside the door to your hospital room like- well, a ghost. When the doctors finally deemed you well enough to take visitors, he was at your side, like a loyal dog lying at its master’s feet. He held your wrist in a loose grip the entire time he waited for you to wake up, his thumb pressed against your pulse point so that he could be sure your heart was still beating.

It felt like ages that he waited for you. He didn’t even know quite how long he did, actually. He only left your side once, and that was for a shower in freezing water where he scrubbed his skin raw because he was unable to stop seeing the red covering it.

When you finally stirred beneath him, Simon thought he was dreaming. He stared at you with a mixture of disbelief and blind hope, and then you finally opened your eyes. After days, he finally felt like he could exhale. He let himself fall forward, his head coming to rest on your shoulder as he shook ever so slightly.

“God…don’t you ever do that to me again, got it? Thought i’d lost you.”

You reached up and started to rub circles into his back, choosing not to mention the fact that your hospital gown was damp with tears.

“Simon, I-“

He shushed you, rolled up his mask and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple.

“You made it, that’s what matters. You made it back t’ me.”

“And I always will.”

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #angst #fluff #writing #swords’s stories

[luveline]

could I request a Remus fic where he’s known and liked reader for a while and she’s recently had a glow up and is skeptical about her newfound attention? you don’t have to tho thank you <3

ty for requesting !! fem

You’re a cloud of dainty perfume as you flop down beside him. “That’s so weird.” 

“What’s weird?” Remus asks, half-paying attention to you, his other half trying to finish the sentence he’d been reading. 

“There was a boy at the front of the cafe trying to open the door for me even though I was already opening it myself, and then he, like, stood there holding it for a bit after I’d already come in.” 

“Is it possible,” Sirius butts in, because of course he does, a cigarette between his fingers unlit, “that he was flummoxed by your beauty, lovely girl?” 

You drive your face into Remus’ arm. “Not this again.” 

“You’ve always been beautiful,” Sirius concedes, unaware or unaffected by your bashfulness, “but lately you’ve got quite the glow. I’ve been trying to hook you for weeks. Haven’t you noticed?” 

Remus smiles at his friend, digging in his jacket for a lighter to throw him. Sirius opens his hand and catches it gracefully. “She’s always been beautiful,” he says agreeably. 

“Be back in a minute.” 

You lift your head only after his footfall has faded away, gaze first at the window where Sirius has gone to smoke outside, and then the table where Remus is laying his book to rest. “I can’t stand him when he does that.” 

“Does what?” 

“Acts like I’m prettier than I am.” 

“When does he do that?” Remus asks, not quite monotone but getting there. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Do I? You’re lovely, and Sirius can’t not notice because he’s Sirius.” 

“Can’t not attribute every weird man’s behaviour to my change in appearance.” 

“You’ve changed,” Remus acquiesces. “And boys notice you more, but I think that’s more to do with your sudden propensity for smiling and walking around with your chin up than any haircut or lipgloss.” 

“Oh, quite right, professor.” 

He pinches your thigh, savouring the laugh that bubbles out of you and your little jump in your seat. “You’re a trollop, is that what you want to hear?” he asks. 

Your face falls to your chin, and yes, Remus has liked you almost since he met you, and yes, your recent change in appearance has made you more eye-catching, but he means it when he says the pull of your demeanour is your new confidence. You’re stunning, the smile you give him, that hint of brightness in your eyes as you start to squint, it yanks sorely between his lungs. He wants to kiss you now more than he ever has before. 

“You really think he held my door ‘cos he thought I was pretty?” you ask. 

“I didn’t say that, did I? Sirius did.” He stands and stretches, feeling bold but not brave. “I think he held your door because you’re the most beautiful girl in any room you walk into, but what do I know?” he asks, grabbing his empty coffee cup from the small table in front. “I’ll get you a coffee.” 

“You dick,” you mutter. Such a short sentence, and yet he can tell you’re flustered without turning around to see it for himself. 

It’s a good thing —if he were to see you now, your shy smile, he’d end up telling you exactly how he feels about you. 

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

[fir3ylolol]

smile! you're on camera

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: Staying at Johnny's house is really nice, except...something feels a little off. You find out the hard way when you decide to entertain yourself on the couch.

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, masturbation, accidental voyeurism, making out, face fucking, sex tape, dom/sub, switch!reader, switch!johnny cage, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, dom!johnny cage, sub!reader, sex in a theater, i physically cant write men who dont whine, he needs pussy!, afab!reader, he wants you so bad omg, smut, shameless smut, porn with light plot

a/n: hehehehehehe...this is inspired by the voice clip in the invasion mode of mk1 where he says he has cameras everywhere. ive been rly inspired lately, but im gna open up requests on here soon, so keep an eye outtt

word count: 2.63 k

Ao3

Something was really off about Cage’s house. After coming back from the tournament and training, you weren’t ready to get back to normal life. And Johnny had offered you a starring role in the movie he was planning to make about Outworld. You accepted quickly, after making sure you wouldn’t have to get naked or be a horrible person or anything like that. But rent is rough, and Johnny is so generous as to let you stay at his place.

His casual, gigantic mansion-y place.

But it was nice. You had your own space, a full fridge, and could still ignore things like work for a bit longer. Plus, Johnny was a surprisingly great host, hosting movie nights in his private theater. Everything was great, except…

You always felt like someone was watching you. As long as you weren’t in your room or the bathroom, it felt like there were eyes on you. Getting a drink of water? It’s there. Sitting on the couch? Being watched. Just wandering into a room? Oh yeah, you for sure feel it. But you brush it off and don’t bother to say anything to Johnny. You figure it’s just dumb paranoia.

After about 2 weeks without any work from Johnny, you’re getting bored. He’s never home, he has work to do and a movie to plan. So you sit around the mansion all day, waiting. Usually, you read, watch stuff, or even just take laps around the house for exercise. But today, you’re just scrolling through social media. Even that is boring to you today. You decide that, hey, you can think of a good way to pass the time. For a quick moment, you forget about feeling watched. Your fingers dip below your waistband, shivering at your touch. It’s been a long time, you’ve been training and then living in someone else’s house. When would you have the chance?

Slowly, you begin to tease yourself, fingers circling your clit. It’s quite embarrassing how much it affects you, but you’ve lost your ability to feel shame. You lose yourself in your actions, whimpers and moans echoing through the empty house. Unable to stop yourself, you finish with an almost violent snap, panting harshly. Pulling your hand out, you finally feel embarrassed, with how fast you were, and how hard you came. Shakily, you stand up and walk towards the bathroom to wash your hands.

You've forgotten what you did by the time Johnny gets home that evening. Smiling as he walks in, a grocery bag in one hand. “Here comes Mr. Celebrity to pass out treats to us poor folk,” you throw your hands out in a joking manner. But there’s a weird look in his eyes, not matching his characteristic smile. “It’s movie night, I had to make sure we had enough snacks,” he walks towards the kitchen, you shortly behind. “Oh yeah! What’s the movie tonight?” You lean against the counter, searching through the bag.

“The Thing. We haven’t done any horror movies yet.” He grabs a glass of water, drinking deeply. But that look is still there. It almost scares you away at how sharp it is. “Ah, ok. Well…I guess I’ll see you then.” You back out of the room, almost running when you’re out of his sight. Catching your breath in your room, confusion floods your mind. Did you do something wrong? Is he tired of having you here? All you can do is wait and wonder until tonight.

And tonight comes much too fast. You find yourself stumbling into the theater room, meeting Johnny’s eyes as you walk in. But he seems much happier. Maybe he was just tired after work. As you get settled, a bag of snacks next to your leg. As Johnny starts the movie and turns the lights down, you start to get nervous. What if he’s mad at you? He is pretty rich, if he wants you dead, it wouldn’t take long.

But Johnny sits next to you, settling down and looking towards you. You try not to look at him, fearing that you might meet a cold gaze. Unable to stop yourself though, your eyes meet his. The weird look is still there, no longer hidden under sunglasses and smiles. Ever the considerate movie-watcher, he leans in to whisper in your ear. “So, did you have a good day? It must get lonely here.” Trying to stay calm, you whisper back, “It was ok, I can’t complain. Was your day ok?”

“Yeah, more progress made on my movie. Studios are eating it up. But…” He pauses, looking at the screen shortly before looking back to you. “I did see a very interesting movie on break.” Turning fully, you look at him confusedly. What in the hell was he talking about? “Oh yeah? What was it?”

“Well, you know, I do have cameras set up like everywhere, right?”

Oh shit.

Your entire face drops, frozen in shock. You finally remember the fun you had earlier on the couch. The watched feeling finally makes sense. “O-oh…” You stumble over yourself trying to think of excuses. This is humiliating. But Johnny doesn’t falter like you. He pauses the movie, reaching his hand out and taking yours to pull your focus back to him.

“You put on quite a show for me, you know?” You finally recognize the look in his eyes. It’s intense curiosity and...lust? “Only wish I knew what you were thinking about. Care to enlighten me?” He leans slightly closer, hot breath fanning over you. Swallowing hard, you try to avoid his intense stare. “I-I wasn’t thinking. I was just…bored?” He laughs slightly, holding your other hand. “Really? I was sorta hoping you were thinking of me, but that’s a little selfish, huh?”

“H-huh? What? Do…do you think of me like that?” You fluster further at his words. “Maybe…does that bother you?” He falters slightly, realizing that he might be making you uncomfortable. But you can't stop yourself from blurting out, “No! It doesn't bother me. I-” Cutting you off, Johnny leans in closer, lips an inch apart. “Then what's the problem?” You swallow hard, eyes rapidly moving back and forth from his eyes to his mouth, and finally answer.

“I just don't know what to do when fantasy becomes reality.”

Luckily for you, Johnny knows.

He closes the distance between you two, kissing you like your life depended on it. You wrap your hands behind his neck and lean back, pulling him impossibly closer. Your tongues dance against each other, lips crashing. Suddenly, you get a surge of confidence, one that defies your previous apprehension. One of your hands slips down his chest slowly, inching along until you reach his growing bulge. He pulls back slightly, panting and staring directly into your eyes. “H-hey now, you’re not playing fair,” he manages to get out, slightly whining at your touch. 

“You started it, watching me like that,” you whisper in his ear, fingers slowly rubbing along his waistband. He gasps lightly, head turning away from you. “You liked it, right? Did you touch yourself watching it?” Your fingers move further past his waist, inching towards his cock. “C’mon, you can tell me,” your voice almost sing-songy and teasing. He manages to stutter out a shaky “y-yeah” as you continue down. But you suddenly stop, much to his disappointment.

Instead, you move to kneel in between his legs, looking up at him with sultry eyes. He looks slightly confused until you undo his pants button. Biting his lip, he watches you with intense, pleading eyes. You lean up, taking the zipper of his fly in your mouth and undoing it. He looks like he could honestly cum right now, but you won't let him. As you pull his pants and boxers down his thighs, his cock springs up, the tip angry and weeping. He blushes at the sight of himself like this and you, looking up at him with his hard dick right in front of you.

You slowly wrap your hand around him, stroking him a few times. You just want to watch him squirm and squirm he does. He is whining, head turning back and forth, with one hand on his thigh and the other over his mouth. You kiss the underside, looking up at him through your lashes. With a muffled moan, he looks away again, face scrunching up in concentration and pleasure. Slowly licking at the tip, watching as he continues unraveling, you finally take him in your mouth. You fit as much as you can at first, reveling in the loud gasp you earn from him. You continue a relentless pace, gently massaging his balls as well. 

This pleasure is intense for Johnny, so much so that he’s starting to tear up, eyes welling up as he holds back as many sounds as he can. But that only lasts so long as you lift your head off him, taking a deep breath and rasping out, “Do you wanna come, baby? Huh? Then come on, fuck my face like a good boy.” 

You go further down this time, causing him to jump at the feeling. Scurried hands grab at your head as he's bent forward, bucking at a frenzied pace. Loud, slutty moans roll from his lips as he loses himself in the feeling. And as you kneel there, trying to stay there for as long as possible, you feel yourself growing wetter. You did this to him, got him so riled up that he could barely control himself. Amongst his hurried moves, you manage to push past your gag reflex and fully take his entire cock down your throat. A loud, long breathy moan is all Johnny can get out as he almost immediately cums at the feeling. Focusing on holding your breath until you can no longer feel him pulsing in your throat, you savor his sounds, his whines, whimpers, moans.

As you move up, taking a deep breath, you admire him in the lowlights. His face flushed and sweaty, eyes rolled back in his head, usually perfect hair messed up. Beautiful. But he only stays like that for so long, because you move up to kiss him. As if his body is reacting without him thinking, he wraps one hand behind your back and uses one to tangle in your hair. After a short kiss, he pulls away. You manage to half-whisper “That was quite a show you put on,” chuckling afterward.

Johnny lazily motions for you to sit next to him, and you oblige. But before you’re even fully down, he's on you, kissing and pulling you closer. Now it's his turn to tease, fingers traveling under your shirt to play with your nipples. You let out light gasps at the feeling, as Johnny starts to bite and suck at your neck.

Mumbling against your skin, you can hear him say, “I'll give you a show.” He manages to pull your shirt off before you even realize what's happening, his eyes still desperate and wanting. He has no grace or subtlety as he pulls your pants and underwear off, he doesn't want to wait any longer than he has to. Shrugging his shirt and pants fully off, he stares at you intensely. He moves a finger to swipe across your wetness, knees buckling slightly as he feels you. He leans in against your chest, beginning to beg. “Please, please, I wanna be inside you, love. I wanna give you a real show, show how good I can be. Please?” God, he's kind of pathetic like this. It's hot.

With a quick nod, he springs up. He wastes no time as he practically lifts you and turns you around. Now, with your hands grasping the back of your seat and ass in the air, Johnny leans over you and presses against your back. Kissing between your shoulder blades, he slowly moves his hips to yours, cock gently rubbing against your wet pussy. Unable to control himself, his hips buck at the sensation, earning a groan from both of you. Face still against your back, you feel him lightly bite you, trying to ground himself. 

Finally, he manages to calm himself, standing up and taking a deep breath. After a pause, he lines himself up and pushes in slowly. With a long whine, he manages to bury himself inside you, pausing to adjust. With a strained voice, he quietly says, “Oh god, you feel so good, squeezing against my cock like that. I’m already sensitive, you know.” After a short pause, he starts to move, mesmerized by the way your ass bounces against him. “Shit, I should’ve fucked you earlier. I’ve been missing out,” he manages to get out as he speeds up, reveling in the way you mewl under him.

He’s moving at a breakneck pace now, gripping your hips desperately, and sputtering out praise. Without slowing, his hands shoot out, wrapping around your neck and grabbing your jaw. He’s using your head as leverage, but he manages to fuck you even deeper. He gently turns your head to the back corner of the theater, lightly slapping your cheek to get your attention. “See right there? That’s where the camera is. Go ahead, put on a show, baby.” Despite his confident words, his voice is higher than normal and breathy. His words shoot straight to your dripping pussy, clenching even tighter around him. His hips buck in as he laughs slightly. “You like that? You like being my own personal pornstar? Then come on, let me see it. Get louder, these mics only pick up so much. Don’t hold back, yeah?” 

You decide that he’s getting a little too cocky, and decide to shut him up a bit. Moaning out obscenities, you begin to bounce back against him. His hands shoot back to your hips, using you to stabilize himself. Gone are his confident words, replaced with the most gorgeous whimpers you’ve ever heard. His head dips lower, resting once again against your upper back. You can hear his quiet whispers of “Oh fuck” repeated over and over again like a prayer.

With scrambling fingers that dart under you, he starts to play with your clit, bouncing at the same rhythm of his thrusts. “What fun is it if I’m the only one cumming? Besides…” he lets out a breathy laugh, “I studied the game tape.” He begins moving in circles, and suddenly it’s like you’re fucking him for the 50th time. He knows exactly where and what feels good, what directions, and how much pressure to use. But you have no time to wonder how many times he watched you before his hips started snapping in shaky thrusts. You feel yourself getting closer and closer, and with the energy you have left, you decide to put on a major finale. Head tipped back, you begin pleading with him, crying out, “Please come for me, please, please. You’ve done such a good job, I need it, I need you, please please please…” Unable to hold back, he cums with a harsh final thrust. But even in the throws pleasure, he manages to continue to play with your clit. You cum shortly after him, he whines at the feeling of you spasming around his extremely sensitive cock. He slowly pulls out, taking a long second to admire the sight of you bent over and dripping arousal.

He guides you into the chair, helping you sit down and catch your breath. He sits next to you, snuggling into your side and planting his face against your neck. He breathes deep, inhaling your scent and kissing lightly against your sensitive skin. He manages to mumble into your neck, looking up with sweet, half-lidded eyes, “So...there’s about 56 cameras in the house. You mind sticking around for an extra few weeks?”

#johnny cage x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk x reader #johnny cage mk1 #mk1 smut

[bleedingoptimism]

𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚

part 1

“You look pale,” Jeff comments making Eddie snort loudly.

Of course he looks pale, he’s got vampirism, doesn't he? But then again, so does Jeff and he looks great.

“When was the last time you fed?” He asks.

Eddie sighs heavily trying to reign in his bad mood. He knows Jeff’s just worried and wants to help, and he’s grateful to have run into an old friend from high school as soon as he moved into the big city. 

Because he’d be utterly lost without him.

He doesn't know where anything is, he gets lost in the subway, and he has no idea when he’s being charged too much for a muffin or suspiciously too little for a hotdog, or where all the blood markets are.

“Like, two weeks ago,” Eddie finally answers.

Jeff looks surprised but it’s not actually that bad, people with vampirism can go up to 4 to 5 weeks without blood. 

It’s not the same as those vampires from movies and books, they still eat food and they can stand in the sun with just minor cases of sunburn. There’s also the light sensitivity, making them all look like assholes wearing sunglasses everywhere.

Also, they are not allergic to garlic. Which, thank the heavens because Eddie loves garlic, a lot.

There’re a couple of side effects that do come in handy sometimes, like augmented hearing and smell. And the healing spit is super weird but nifty. No super strength regrettably, that would’ve been awesome.

Anyways, it’s like they have super anemia or something.

“I went to a blood bar, hooked up with some dude but. I didn't have a good time, at all. I kind of don't want to go back to bars for a while,” He elaborates and when Jeff frowns worried, he shakes his head,

“No, not like that. It’s just… the dude was like way too into it, you know? It kinda freaked me out.”

“What do you mean? Don't you find it hot? When you feed?” Jeff asks him, curious. 

Eddie nods quickly, “Yes, of course I do! It can be really sexy with the right person, but this guy, he was like- like way too loud and like, he was faking it? I don’t for who, though. And halfway through it, I started getting worried I’d accidentally hired someone instead of just hooked up and I didn’t have any money, and then I started thinking about money and my dick-”

“Ok! Ok, I get it.” Jeff thankfully interrupts him. “Dude, why didn’t you say something, I know of a place. I didn’t mention it before because it’s kind of boujee and handles itself a little differently.” 

“Oh? Do tell” Eddie tells him excitedly, he loves going to new places, especially if they are weird.

“Well, it’s real private, like ‘can’t get in unless you are on the list’ private. And it’s run by this girl. Blonde little thing, super cute. Scary as fuck. Everyone calls her ‘The Boss’” he says doing air quotes.

“Dramatic, I like it.” Eddie smiles.

Jeff chuckles, “So the gist of it it’s you go there and just hang out normally, like any other kind of bar. The place is beautiful, the music is good, and the drinks are delicious. But what's interesting about this place is the hostesses,” he says and even does a little pause for effect before continuing, “Similar to a blood bar there’re people there willing to be fed on but what’s cool about it is they get to choose.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “That sounds kind of fun, actually.”

“Right? And it feels, safer somehow? For them?” Jeff agrees and Eddie nods and smiles at him, waiting for him to keep going.

“Anyway, the hostesses choose and then you get to go upstairs and talk through what you want to happen, just feeding, sex, talking, anything they agree to, it's on the table. I once ended up just playing a game of Uno with the girl I fed on and two other hostesses that hadn't picked anyone that night.” he finishes and Eddie laughs delightedly.

“Ok, this place sounds amazing, what’s the catch?” 

“Well, you have to pay an entry fee, the drinks are expensive and there’s always the possibility you’ll leave empty-handed. The first time is free though,” Jeff says.

“Like drugs,” Eddie replies and Jeff nods solemnly, 

“You know the hostesses can be kind of addicting.” 

…

That night, on the way there, Jeff tells him they have to sign a guest list at the entrance,

“No one uses their real name, not because the place is shady or anything! But because they want to leave that choice to us and the hostesses if you ever get too close with one. It's not like, frowned upon.”

Eddie nods listening intently, he feels kind of nervous in a way he hasn't in a while, but he’s not sure why.

“Also, secret nicknames are fun! I’m known as Jay there. So please don’t dox me. Or yourself.” Jeff tells him.

After careful consideration, Eddie smiles and says, “I’ll be… Strider”

“Nerd”

“Shut up, you are just jealous you didn't come up with it yourself”

Jeff laughs, “You got me there,” he says, and then, “We are here” and he opens a big glass windowed door and vows to Eddie, inviting him in.

Eddie chuckles and enters and immediately almost runs into someone—a tall, massive guy with short curly hair and the shadow of a beard.

“Hey freak,” Jeff greets calmly, “He’s with me,”

Eddie cringes at the nickname, bad memories from high school bullying. But the dude just nods and gives Jeff the tiniest of smiles, so he figures it’s the nickname the bouncer chose for himself.

They enter and sign their name in the guest book, a girl about their age with dirty blond hair and hundreds of freckles on her nose and cheeks is there and she asks Eddie a couple of questions. Not in a weird way, but in a ‘you are new and I’m curious’ kind of way.

Eddie feels comfortable and excited as they go in.

Jeff was right, the place is beautiful. The lobby leads to a big room with high ceilings and fake candle-lit lamps. The chairs and tables are antiques and all different but roughly the same time period so they look good together. There’re old signs and posters from all kinds of drinks and different products adorning the walls. And the music is instrumental and oldie too, sounds like probably 40s or 50s.

It is incredibly boujee. But in a fun way, cozy and warm.

They get a seat at a small round table in a corner and Jeff lets Eddie look around for a while before asking,

“So? Weird right? It’s like stepping into another time,”

Eddie snorts, “Yeah, one that has no idea which time period it wants to repre- who is that?”

Jeff looks at where Eddie is looking and sighs, “Of course you noticed Sunshine,”

“Sunshine?” Eddie sighs.

“That’s what they call him. Because apparently he smells like flowers and summer and tastes like orgasms or something,” Jeff says amused rolling his eyes.

The guy, Sunshine, is probably the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life, definitely the most beautiful man in this room. His face is a contradiction of sharp and round angles that is just absolutely perfect, and he’s wearing a black suit that clings to his body like a second skin, showing off his big shoulders and his tiny waist. He’s looking around the room with big, brown eyes that look bored as he leans against a wall like he’s above it all, he’s a fucking dream.

Eddie swallows audibly and looks smirking at Jeff for a second before his eyes drift back to the man, “Tastes like what, you said” he teases and Jeff snorts.

“Not that anyone would know, as far as I know, he’s never taken anyone upstairs,” he tells Eddie in a conspiratory tone.

That makes him incredibly curious, “Really? Why is he still here then?”

“I don’t know for sure, mostly rumors but he’s the boss’s favorite, that’s for sure. Oh!” Jeff exclaims and then nods his head to a girl sitting on the other side of the room, in a big fancy-looking chair that looks more like a throne than a simple piece of furniture.

She’s got blonde hair up in a ponytail and she’s wearing a flowery dress but there's something about the way she looks around the room, something about the way people walk around her and look at her, with respect or fear, or maybe both. She’s fucking intimidating.

While Eddie’s looking, the girl from the front desk, with the freckles, comes to sit on a small stool beside the “throne”, there’s another one on the other side that’s empty. The blonde girl moves her hand towards freckles and she kisses it and then her shoulder and smiles as she leans in closer and starts whispering to her.

It’s kind of surreal. 

“That’s The Boss, and the girl from the entrance, that’s Sparrow. She’s her girl.” Jeff explains.

“Respect for looking scary in a sundress,” Eddie comments.

And Jeff nods, “Anyways my theory is, Sunshine is actually just a bodyguard and not a hostess but the people that come here like to think they actually have a chance with him, so no one says anything to the contrary.”

Eddie snorts and nods, it makes sense. It's actually very good marketing, just like the ‘the first one is free’ thing. That boss girl is really smart with her business.

Jeff and he get a few drinks and they chat calmly, Jeff isn't looking to go upstairs tonight, he only came by to accompany Eddie and Eddie knows he should be looking around, trying to make eye contact with someone, but he can stop staring at Sunshine.

He even looked at their table at one point, and Eddie thought he was going to faint. He was scanning the room as he apparently does every couple of minutes when he caught Jeff’s eye and Jeff lifted his hand in greeting.

And Sunshine’s face completely transformed, his bored calculating expression changed into a beautiful smile that made his eyes shine. He wiggled his fingers at Jeff cutely before going back to looking like fucking Droopy Dog. If Droopy was the sexiest motherfucker alive. It was amazing to see.

Eddie’s jaw almost hit the table and he turned to look at Jeff stunned and he just shrugged,

“Sunshine was one of the hostesses I ended up playing Uno with. He’s fucking vicious,” he says smiling at the memory.

Eddie chuckles as his eyes follow Sunshine moving across the room, he just can't. Stop. Looking.

But the thing is, Sunshine is looking back now. Keeping eye contact with him obviously and unashamed. It’s thrilling and it makes shivers run down his spine.

He watches as Sunshine sits on the stool on the other side of The Boss’s throne and grabs her hand and holds it, intertwining their fingers. 

The Boss and her girl turn and look at him and the three of them start whispering, looking at him.

“Dude,” he says and turns to Jeff to see if he’s seeing what he’s seeing.

Jeff looks from him to the whispering party, “Un fucking believable, first time here and tonight is the night Sunshine is taking someone upstairs” he says looking fed up, but clearly in a joking manner.

“Is that what you think it’s happening? No way,” Eddie shakes his head as Sparrow says something that makes The Boss chuckle but Sunshine speaks up and she sobers up immediately. Curious.

“He’s looking right at you, he probably went to ask Sparrow about you,” Jeff insists.

“Maybe he’s looking at you”

“He’s seen me before,” Jeff scoffs.

He’s about to reply but their conversation gets interrupted by someone shily clearing their throat. A girl, a hostess, is looking at him with curious eyes, and shit… she’s cute and looks like a nice person but, Eddie can’t- he needs to know what those looks from Sunshine meant.

He needs him.

He looks back at the group quickly to see Sunshine and The Boss in deep conversation and Sparrow… is she glaring at him?

He rejects the girl, as nicely as possible and Jeff scoffs and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ under his breath again as Eddie turns to look back at Sunshine.

Who is walking toward them, holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Jeff says and then moves to stand. Eddie grabs his wrist and tries to pull him back.

“Wait what are you doing, dont-” But Jeff frees himself and starts walking away,

“Good luck!” He sings songs and then leaves him alone.

part 1: you are here

part 2: 👄

part 3: 🩸

bonus content: ☀️

ao3: 🌙

art: 🦇

coffee?☕🥐💕

#stranger things #steddie #vampire eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something

[starlightsearches]

Yes, absolutely! So. Eddie x FemReader. They are best friends and have this special bond but all of a sudden Eddie pushes her aside for another girl he's dating or is interested in, letting her sit in the reader's seat, canceling traditions of years like movie night, etc. But somehow he wakes up and realizes he has been an ass to her (maybe because he actually wanted to get over his own feelings for her) but the reader isn't so quick to let it all go - she wants him to prove how sorry he is!

Jealousy, Jealousy

📼✨ mixtape milestone ✨📼 requests are open!

thanks for the request, bestie! and an even bigger thanks for your patience 😬 i hope you enjoy!

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Comments likes and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think 💖

Warnings: mostly just language and a little drama and angst and then fluff I think but let me know if I missed anything. I've always wanted to play around with POV switches like this, which is probably why it's taken me so long to finish this one 🙄

You're fuming in the front seat.

Eddie keeps his eyes on the road—more than he probably ever has while driving—afraid that if he even glances in your direction all the smoke you're letting off will start to fog up the windshield. Like he's driving around with a forest fire in his van.

"Listen," he says, even though he's not sure what's going to come after, "it's not even a big deal."

They're the first words out of his mouth since he told you, and they're definitely the wrong ones. Your eyes flash, smoldering at the center like cigarette ends.

Your look may be fire, but your voice is all ice.

"To you."

"What?"

"It's not that big of a deal to you, Eddie," you tell him, shifting against the dirty leather seat like you can't even stand to be near him, "but it is a big deal to me."

Valerie fucking Reed—just thinking her name has you seeing blood. Everything about her puts the wrath of god in you, from the fake-ass pitch of her voice to the way she flips her hair over her shoulder whenever she thinks she's said something clever.

You'd hated her from the moment you'd met her, after the painfully cliche the freaks sit over there cafeteria routine she'd put on for you your very first day in Hawkins. You were more prepared for that shit now—had educated yourself in the art of biting comebacks and fought only with words even when you wanted nothing more than to bash her head into the linoleum tile.

But at a brand new school when you were desperate to make friends? Absolutely devastating.

If you were held at gunpoint and forced to say one honest, nice thing about her, there'd only be one you could offer up: it was her fault you'd met Eddie. With tears still stinging in your eyes, you'd carried your lunch tray in the direction of her pointed finger, falling into the nearest empty chair and tucking your chin into your chest so no one would see you cry.

That was when Eddie swooped in, big doe eyes and denim vest rattling with pins, and a thousand stupid jokes—not exactly a knight in shining armor but you'd never wanted one of those anyway.

Now Valerie wants to take him away from you, too.

Eddie drums his hands on the wheel, fidgeting with the volume on the tape he'd let you choose to soften the blow. He let's Fleetwood Mac fill the empty space between you, all the words he should say replaced with Stevie's soft vocals.

He's not used to fighting with you. Your friendship has always been as easy as breathing—except when it's not.

. . . But you really can't be blamed for that. It's not your fault he feels all weird inside every time you smile.

He wishes you'd smile at him now.

"You know," you say, feet planted on his dash and your chair pushed all the way back, "I didn't say shit when you started ditching me at lunch to deal to her and her friends, or when you skipped on movie nights for all those parties she threw because I get why you had to go, but a fucking date?"

"She just needs a place to smoke . . ." Eddie mumbles, skin hot at the word date.

You roll your eyes with enough bite he actually feels the sting.

"Right. She just needs to get high with you at your place, because she has nowhere else to go.”

Your lips drip with venomous sarcasm—absolutely soaked through with the belief that he couldn't possibly sit in the same room as Valerie and not touch her.

Do you really have so little faith in him? Eddie's got way more self-control than either of you would give him credit for. There's never been a moment he hasn't wanted his hands on you, and he's alone with you all the time.

“Come on,” he says, swallowing so his voice won't crack, “we do that.”

“It’s different," you snap back quickly.

Yeah it fucking is, he thinks, but Eddie doesn't say a word. Maybe the silence will speak for itself—or maybe it could, if you'd let it.

You carve a frustrated hand through your hair, staring him down. “Like, how do you think it would feel for you if I went out with fucking Jason Carver?"

He resists the urge to gag. "It's not like that."

It's really not like that. Just the thought of it has Eddie feeling both sick and violent, unsure if he was more likely to throw a punch or throw up.

He takes the turn into your driveway, watching you collect your stuff with a brutal speed.

"Yes it is, Eddie," you tell him as you slide from your seat before he's even fully hit the breaks, "actually, it's worse. Because Jason is a dick to everybody, and Valerie's got some fucking target on my back. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all part of some evil plan of hers to make me jealous because—"

You cut yourself off immediately, words stoppered by some invisible dam, eyes wide. Eddie's body goes cold when you slam the door without saying goodbye, stomping off to your doorstep.

He scrambles for his seat belt, practically falling out of the van in attempt to catch up to you before you get inside.

"Wait a second," Eddie says, holding the door open with his hand and trying to catch his breath, "why would that make you jealous?"

You scuff the toe of your boot against the step. "Nothing, it's stupid."

Eddie raises a brow, but you can’t look at his big, brown, beautiful eyes right now, tracing down along his leather sleeve to where his hand is planted against the door, black-painted nails splayed wide and already chipping, although you only did them a few nights ago.

Rude that the only time you get to hold him is when you're doing him a favor.

"Stupid how?" he asks.

You shrug. "I dunno . . . she just thinks I have a crush on you or something."

It's a surprise he hadn't already heard; about half of the girl's locker room were still stripping out of their gym clothes when Valerie had to bring everybody's attention to your black lace bra, before sharing a few theories on who you were wearing it for.

"Like I said, stupid." You ignore the heat in your cheeks, gripping the door again and trying to force it shut, but Eddie's not finished.

You wouldn’t notice, but his chest is heaving under his black t-shirt, palm sweating against the door. A crush? On him?

Is Valerie as delusional as he is?

"Wait," —his mouth is on a roll before his brain has caught up— "do- do you?"

Your eyes go wide with surprise, and then shrink into slits as you push him back from the door, one hot hand planted against his chest.

"Fuck you, Eddie," —he catches the words just before the slam— "fuck you for real."

It wasn't a no.

He repeats the words in his mind like he’s casting a protection spell. Like it’s some kind of ward against your anger as he scales the tree outside your window.

It’s harder than it looks, and he’s already making it look pretty difficult—but one hand’s busy clinging to the greasy paper bag packed full with burgers and those crispy tater tots you love. He manages to wiggle his way up to your window sill without losing his pants, even though the tears at his knees got caught on every twig and branch he passed.

Eddie steals a glance of you through the sheer curtains, holding back his fist from knocking. Just so he can look at you properly, without all the static of having you look back.

You're stretched out on your bed, feet in the air and headphones caught over your ears while you flip through the pages of a book. He hasn't seen these pajamas before—the little shorts that just cup the edge of your ass, and a sheer tank top. His nails are leaving little indents in his palm.

Eddie hasn't made a sound, but with the way his eyes are tracing over you, you gotta feel it. You find him at the window, and he panics, rapping his knuckles against the glass a second too late.

You roll you eyes at him, but at least you let him in.

There are honest-to-god butterflies in Eddie's stomach when he flops beside you on the bed. And he wouldn't lie—at least not to himself—but he'd tried to feel something like this before, when Valerie first started paying all that attention to him.

Her manicured hand would brush over the sleeve of his jacket while he'd be getting her product and he'd wait for this same feeling, hoping he had a weakness for all pretty girls, that any attention would him stumbling over his words and these feelings didn't have to be the end of the best friendship he'd ever had.

But it's you.

You cross your arms over your chest, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

Eddie's smile is sheepish, but not nearly apologetic enough for your taste. He holds up the paper bag in his hand, dotted with dark splotches where the grease leaked through. It lets out the heavenly scent of fried food.

"I brought dinner, you know, for movie night."

He slips a tray of tater tots from the bag, and you're resolve falters. You hold back your hand from reaching for one even though you already know how incredible it would taste, the little rivulets of salt and shining grease coating the golden skin.

"What about Valerie?" you ask, stealing your eyes away from the junk food. You hate how petulant your voice sounds.

He just shrugs, pouring out some ketchup onto the tray, licking the excess off of his pinky finger. "Told her I had other plans."

Eddie pops a tater tot into his mouth and bites down with a heavy crunch, but it feels like your heart's the thing being popped between his teeth.

And what more were you expecting? That he'd tell her to fuck off and take her money and friends with her? She's the queen of Hawkins, and you're . . . not.

Maybe you and Eddie are both delusional—or stubborn—enough to pretend like you don't care about the politics of high school, but people had abandoned their morals for less.

“So you blew both of us off, then?”

He pauses mid-bite, like a prey animal, like if he doesn’t move you can’t be mad at him.

“What?” he mumbles through a mouthful of chewed-up potatoes.

You snatch a tater tot from the tray, chewing and swallowing even though your stomach is starting to churn because something bad is going to happen and you can feel it coming like a storm in the air.

“Why are you here, Eddie?”

“I- uh, to say sorry,” he stutters.

The food's getting cold in his hands before you respond.

“What’re you sorry for?”

What’s he sorry for? Eddie has a whole list: sorry for making a fool of myself, sorry for hanging out with Valerie because I thought it might make you jealous, sorry sorry sorry for trying so hard to get over you and doing such a bad job at it.

“I, you know . . . I shouldn’t have made other plans on movie night.”

Those were the wrong words again. Crazy how easy it is for him to fuck this up—like it was something he was born with.

For a second, Eddie thinks you'll yell at him, and he's comforted by that. If you yell at him, you still care.

You take in a deep breath, and Eddie braces himself. He can take whatever you give him, will shoulder any insults you hurl and forgive you for it the second it's over.

But your shoulders slump. You let out a heavy sigh.

And he knows he can't take that.

"I'm really, really tired, Eddie," —you won't even look him in the eyes when you say it, sliding the window open again,—"see you tomorrow?"

But Eddie doesn't see you for two whole days.

That's a fucking record.

He thought you might need space, you know. So he gave you Saturday to cool off, kicked around at the trailer and gave Wayne vague answers about why you weren't around and ignoring the look in the old man's eyes. Listening to sad records and getting high and trying not to stare at your smile in all the photos plastered on his wall.

Sunday, Eddie drove by your house with the volume all the way up on your favorite Rolling Stones album, windows down while he idled at the curb. There was a twitch in the curtains, but you weren't there to shout at him for all the noise before climbing in on the passenger side.

Eddie knocked at your door this morning, hoping at least you’d want a ride to school. Your mom opened it with a sad little frown, telling him you’d already taken your bike.

And really, the two days have only ended on a technicality. Eddie sees you right now, reading a book with your head bent low, sitting at the far end of another table.

"Hey—" Eddie twitches when the flying french fry lands against his cheek with a wet slap— "are you gonna go talk to her, or did you just wanna stare?"

Mike laughs at his own joke, and the other guys giggles along.

Eddie's used to the ribbing. He's never minded it—when you're not around. Kind of enjoyed it a little. Even with his heated cheeks and stammered shut ups that completely gave him away, he needed somebody to acknowledge what he was feeling. It made it more real.

But Eddie's not in the mood for jokes today. And he doesn't need anybody to remind him that he's in way over his head with you.

He shoots the freshmen a look that works just as well as throwing a hand over their mouths—without the risk of being licked—and brushes the potato chunks from his hair while the rest of Hellfire pick timidly at their lunches.

And Eddie goes back to staring.

This time, though, you're staring back.

He meets your eyes. Just for a second, wide with surprise before you snap your head back in the direction of your book, tucking your nose between the pages. Doesn't matter how quick you were though. Eddie caught the look you were giving him.

And his heart is beating hard, like it did on the day he first met you. His limbs all staticky and weird, palms sweating because even from the first second he knew you existed he's wondered what kissing you would feel like and the question never left his head.

Eddie's on his feet before he can think about how bad of an idea this is.

"Hey," Dustin calls to him through a mouthful of square pizza, "what're you doing?"

Eddie just shrugs.

"Probably something stupid."

You can see Eddie's long legs moving in your direction from the corner of your eye, and your stomach drops out of your ass like a dip on a roller coaster in the dark and you can't see the end. He says something to the guys—his lips are moving—but you can't make it out over the sound of the cafeteria rumble, the chatter of the other girls sitting at the same table as you, talking animatedly about all the dates they went on over the weekend and completely ignoring your presence.

You dip your head closer to the pages of your book, so close all the words blur together, trying to hide from Eddie like you've been hiding the past few days. You shouldn't have even glanced in his direction, should have let the burn of his presence so close and still too far away swallow you up.

It’s getting hotter with every step he takes toward you, and you’re getting smaller, body tight and your lips caught between your teeth.

He slides quietly into the seat beside you, fingers drumming against the table, and the sound feels louder now that the girls have quieted down, not-so-sneakily listening in on whatever's about to go down between you and Eddie—hungry like sharks for any new gossip, ready to spread the nitty-gritty about why the freaks are fighting.

Eddie dips his head down, eyes big and already so sorry it feels like a punch to the gut.

"Hey," he whispers, trying to smile and failing miserably, "come here often?"

You try to smile back, but it's not much better. "Hey, Eds."

It's quiet, but not the comfortable kind of quiet you're used to around Eddie. It's a hot and sweaty quiet, a trapped-in-a-car kind of summer burn that makes your lungs go shallow.

Eddie perks up, the first words he can think of spilling out of his mouth.

"The guys were thinking about going to the record store after school. Would you wanna come?"

You wouldn't have thought for a second about refusing an invite like that a week ago. Heaven was nothing compared to wandering around a music store with Eddie.

"I don't know if I can today," you say instead, and then when you see the look of hurt on his face, you soften the blow with, "I gotta go to the library for some . . . stuff."

He hums. "Stuff?"

You shrug, playing with the pages of your book. If you're quiet enough, maybe he'll give up.

But he doesn't go anywhere. His hands stay planted on the table, silent and still for once. The black nail polish is almost completely chipped off his nails—probably picked off and littered all over the linoleum.

Eddie's voice is a whisper when he breaks the silence. "Are we gonna talk about it?"

"About what, Eds?"

"Why you're so mad at me . . ."

You've seen Eddie through a lot of shit, but you've never seen a look like this on him—eyes like saucers and brimming with shiny tears.

And you thought being in love with him was rough, but hurting him is a thousand times worse.

"I'm not mad at you, Eddie," you admit, hiding your eyes in the palms of your hands and pressing down until you see stars, "it's just . . ."

You don't get to finish your sentence.

Valerie's calling Eddie's name from across the whole fucking cafeteria. You watch her waving, standing on her tip-toes like she's not the only place in the room anybody can look, like every facet of her doesn't already scream give me attention!

Eddie sandwiches his lips together, pressing until they turn white. You're not going to like whatever he has to say next.

So you slip the dagger from his fingers, standing from the table. He can't hurt you if you hurt yourself first on his behalf.

"Actually, we can talk about this later," you tell him, slipping your bag on over your shoulder.

"Hey—"

There's sparks in your hand where he holds you, an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. It's just your hand in his, but that's all it takes for you to forget yourself, eyes caught on his soft mouth and pink tongue.

Valerie's approaching. You can see her stalking toward you over Eddie's shoulder. There's no room for vulnerability within a mile radius of her. You've got to get away before she sees all the softest parts of you exposed and decides to go for the jugular.

The door's within reach when the room goes quiet. Quiet enough Eddie doesn't even have to raise his voice when he says your name.

He's no stranger to standing on tables, but it's the first time you've seen him look so awkward, hands swinging at his sides in tight fists.

"I- I think I might be in love with you," Eddie says, "and I'm really, really sorry."

There's a chorus of ooooooooooohs from the audience, and maybe a few confused whispers from all the people who passively assumed you were already dating. Then all eyes are on you, waiting.

It's too fucking hot in this room, and your vision's starting to blur at the edges, feeling like you're on a stage and you can't remember the next line after Eddie's verbal punch to your gut.

You mumble a sound, falling backwards through the door and into the safety of the hallway.

Eddie's down off the table as soon as you disappear from the cafeteria, totally ignorant to the laughter and the jeers from all the dickheads watching.

Valerie's in his line of sight when he hits the ground.

"That was weird," she says, and Eddie can't tell if she's purposefully getting in his way, or if she's just got that aura of somebody who could tackle you to the ground but would never bother because she doesn't have to. "I mean I always knew she was a freak but—"

"Fuck off."

Eddie really would like to get into it more with her, maybe mention that he's been up-charging Valerie every time she mentioned your name, or that half the stuff he's been selling her was mixed with ten-year old spices from the cupboard above the oven.

There's more noise, but nobody else trying to get in his way, the path clear all the way to the door.

It's quiet in the hallway, and that alone leaves Eddie disoriented, swinging his head wildly, unsure which way you went.

"I'm down here."

You're on the floor a few feet away, head rested back against one of the lockers, and all of the bad shit goes away. It's that simple—like a light-switch—Eddie's panicked, and then he's not.

You're looking up at him with a soft kind of smile, despite the tight look in your eyes and sheen over your skin.

He slides down to the floor, long legs stretched out into the empty hall, shoes leaving little scuff marks across the linoleum.

"I'm sorry,"—you tell him as soon as he hits the ground, "about, you know. It was just, um, a lot."

"Don't be," he laughs, "that wasn't the smartest idea I've ever had."

The smartest idea he ever had was talking to you that first day, snatching you up before anybody else could.

Your tongue snakes out from between your lips, and Eddie has to physically hold himself back from tasting you. Your eyes dropped to his lap, your voice is small when you ask, "did you mean it?"

"Yeah, honey,"—probably should've kept the nickname to himself— "meant every word."

He's about to mumble something like, but if you don't feel the same it's totally fine, even though it definitely wouldn't be, when your head drops onto his shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know . . . just felt like a personal problem."

You laugh, and the sound shakes through him.

"I dunno, Eds. You being in love with me kinda sounds like something that I'd wanna know."

"I'll keep that in mind, for next time," he whispers. You're looking up at him with those big, soft eyes, breath pillowing against his face.

"It's the same for me," you tell him, "in case you were wondering."

In all the time Eddie's thought about kissing you, he never imagined it happening like this—on the floor with somebody's combination lock digging into his back. With your hands in his hair and the dull roar of the lunchroom somewhere nearby and his thumb tracing along your jaw and you smiling against his lips.

He was definitely missing out.

There's the metal clank of the door, and a chorus of footsteps somewhere down the hall. Eddie recognizes Dustin's voice.

"Oh my god, dude. Fucking finally."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #requests #my writing #eddie munson fluff

[matchascara]

STRESS RELIEF | KAZUHA

IN WHICH: you're a picture perfect student who does nothing but study. he's a slacker who never misses a smoke sesh, but this time, you're invited.

contents- usage of marijuana

(not proofread)

the white haired boy always came late to class with nothing but a joint tucked inbetween his ear, or, some days if he's feeling extra studious, he'd replace it with a pencil. his bandaged hands were always empty, and fiddled with his red lighter under his desk in order to keep himself entertained as lecture continued.

so it was a great shock to you when after various amounts of awkward eye contact, he finally spoke to you, making an unexpected request.

"will you help me study?"

you were a straight A student, always the first one to finish tests, constantly studying in lab, and you never missed a day of class. maybe you were too good of a student and it caused you to lack friends, as your attention was always in the dimly lit screen of your laptop, hurrying to finish up an essay way before it's due date.

however, after some convincing, well more like, constant pestering from kazuha, you finally agreed.

you'd help him study at his place tonight.

that's what you agreed to anyway.

but what you didn't agree to was the high amount of awkward tension that arose between the two of you as he sat close to you, almost hovering over you as he "read" from your textbook.

"it's really not that difficult to understand. maybe let's revise it once more." you suggested, as you slowly scooted away from him.

he slightly threw his head down and let out an amused smirk at your rejection. "god, you read shit like this 24/7 while sober? i commend you." kazuha said, leaning his arm against the table as he turned his body to face you.

"well in what state am i supposed to study in? because it's certainly not drunk nor high." you sighed as you erased his math work, handing him the paper in order to redo it. "you got number 5 & 8 wrong."

he ignored your attempt at changing the topic. "you're always so caught up with your study, do you ever let loose?"

you stayed silent for a bit. you really haven't ever "let loose", you've never had time for it. but to you, it was a little lame, so you decided to lie. "yeah."

"liar."

"i'm not lying."

kazuha let out a small chuckle at your persistence. "so, you wouldn't mind rolling up right now then?"

"rolling up? uh, like, a joint?" you questioned, slightly raising your brow in suspicion.

"yeah. a joint. believe it or not, it'll help us focus a bit more. maybe i'll finally get question 5 right."

you were a bit taken aback by how casually he suggested smoking. it's not like you had anything against it but it just wasn't...you.

so you had no idea how you ended up actually considering it. i mean, exams were approaching, so you've been doing nothing but slaving yourself in the library, and as much as you hated to admit it. you were stressed beyond belief, and somehow, kazuha noticed this as well.

--maybe that's why you both ended up taking long drags of the blunt he'd rolled. with you coughing almost every time you pulled.

kazuha was nothing but amused right now. he wasn't expecting you to actually agree, and it was almost weird to him to see you like this. "so, how are you feeling?" he asked, ashing the blunt on the table before he took another pull.

"i feel okay, i guess." you lied once again. you were definitely feeling the effects of the weed. your mind that was once only filled with anxiety and stress of the next due date of your assignments was now at peace, and you were definitely more aware of your surroundings.

and you couldn't help but notice just how attractive this slacker was.

the red streak on his bangs contrasted his platinum white hair that was tied into a messy half up half down updo, but enhanced his deep red eyes that looked down at the blunt placed inbetween his lips as he relit it.

he finally spoke again as he was able to relight the blunt, taking a long pull and blowing it almost directly in your face. "wanna feel even better?" his voice was low, as sultry as the corners of his mouth curved into a mischievous smirk.

"like, how?"

kazuha placed his free hand on your thigh, slowly running it further up to your inner thigh as he leaned himself close to you, his marijuana scented breath tickling your neck as he spoke.

"allow me to help you relieve some stress."

kazuha looked back at you, his usual softly hued red eyes now burnt with lust as he watched you, awaiting your response.

you were silent for a while, as the blunt burned slowly in his fingers, the smoke seemed to be the only thing that moved as everything else seemed perfectly still.

kazuha took another pull of the blunt that had significantly shortened in size. but this time, he didn't inhale it fully, he kept it in his mouth, moving the smoke side to side before he grabbed your chin, pulling your face only centimeters away from his.

he slightly opened his mouth, the smoke now more dense as it lingered within. you were slightly confused as you copied his movements, hesitantly opening yours as well.

kazuhas lips grazed against yours as he blew the smoke into your mouth, this caught you off guard, but you inhaled it nevertheless.

he didn't move his face away from yours as you inhaled the smoke. instead, his lips met yours, kissing you deeply. the taste of mint mixed with the marijuana that lingered on his tongue intoxicated you, causing you to return the kiss.

you slightly opened your mouth, allowing his soft tongue to enter, intertwining with yours as the kiss deepened and became more erotic. he pressed his body against yours further, pushing you down onto the couch.

kazuha was laying now on top of you, his hand still gripping your thigh as he slowly moved it up and down in a sensual manner. whilst his other hand still holding the blunt that was still lit.

your soft moan of pleasure and the way you interlocked your fingers into the back of his head, gripping a handful of his hair, pushing his lips deeper into yours seemed to be his turning point as he put out the blunt by pressing his against the table, refusing to break the kiss.

"you've ever been kissed like this?" his lips grazing against yours as he spoke.

"...no."

he seemed to have liked this answer as you felt his cold fingers tease your skin when he slipped his hand under your shirt and under your bra, kissing you once more, biting and sucking your tongue every time it entered his mouth.

the tension between you two was only rising as the kiss became more intimate. your body which rose in temperature was fully pressed against his, and you could feel him harden against you.

kazuha bit your bottom lip as he pulled away from the kiss, his hand still caressing your thigh in a suggestive manner.

you took a deep breath as you looked at him, and the awkwardness that was once there was now replaced by high sexual tension that pervaded throughout the room.

"i'll take you up on that offer." you finally answered.

#genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #kazuha #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact #kazuha smut #kazuha x reader #kazuha x y/n #kazuha genshin impact #genshin headcanons

[raccoonbatz]

INCHES IN BETWEEN US // Min Ho x F!Reader

Summary: Min Ho saves tipsy y/n from the party and sobers her up at his dorm.

Warnings?: Spicy, Enemies to Lovers!!, alcohol.

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so sorry if some sentences came out weird lol

—

“Y/n, come on!” Min Ho says as he grabbed your hand and tries to rush through the crowd.

“Why are you helppping me?” U said, slurring on your words trying to keep up to him.

Someone told the teachers about Min Ho’s party and now everyone was trying to leave the building to get back to the dorms.

Min Ho ignored your question as he pulled you through the crowd. You sighed and just let it happen. At this moment you didn’t really care anyways to be honest and you were lowkey glad the party was over. Everyone was involved in some kind of drama and left you alone. You haven’t seen kitty or Q anywhere the whole night.

After some time running u guys got back at the dorms

“Uh Min Ho my dorm is that way-“ You said kind of confused.

“Iknow.” He says as he pulled you into his dorm. He gently placed you down at the kitchen island on the chair.

“Wh-“ You tried to say something, but he placed a glass of water into your hand.

“Drink up.” He says as he leaned on the kitchen island in front of you.

“Why? Did you spike it or something?” You asked and chuckled

Min Ho sighed and placed his hands in his hair.

“No, y/n, as much as I find you annoying I can’t leave you alone when ur-“ he stopped for a bit and looked up.

“This much of a mess.” He finished his sentence and took the glass from your hands, taking a sip.

“See? It’s safe.” He said annoyed and gave u the glass back. U chuckled and took a sip of the glass.

“Is that why you’re helping me?” U asked and he nodded.

“Oh- so minnie isn’t a complete asshole?” You joked again, and he sighed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m always so nice to you!” He says sarcastically and u laughed.

“Yea yea.. Where is maddison?” U asked and he looked at u confused.

“Maddison?” He asked and u nodded

“Ur girlfriend?” U said, still a bit tipsy

“She isn’t my girlfriend-“ Min Ho said but u interrupted him.

“Do you want her to be your girlfriend?” You asked, leaving a confused look on Min Ho’s face. U stood up to place the empty glass on the counter.

“N-no-“ He said while you were coming closer to where he was standing. U placed the glass onto the counter, now standing infront of him. U smelled his cologne, which smelled quite nice.

“U smell good-“ u said and he chuckled.

“And you’re still tipsy-“ He said and u chuckled. U looked up and met his dark eyes. You hated the way your heart beats when ur this close to him.

“Why do you hate me?” You asked, tracing you finger across his shirt.

He swallowed, grabbing your wrist.

“I-I don’t hate you-“ he stutters, which made u giggle.

“Well I don’t hate you either, so what’s all that tension between us then?” You said, leaving Min Ho speechless.

“You’re nervous?” You asked, slowly placing your hand on his shoulder. His reaction made you giggle.

“Y/n, w-what are you doing?” He stuttered once again, slowly letting go of your wrist.

“Something we should’ve done a long time ago-“ You said as you placed your other hand on his other shoulder.

You weren’t lying, this is something you guys should’ve done a long time ago. Everyone saw that you guys actually liked eachother, except for yourselves.

A small smirk appeared on Min Ho’s face, leaving you blush a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to do something you will regret tomorrow-“ He said softly. You nodded

“I’m sure-“ You said and before you could finish your sentence he picked you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he turned around, placing you on the kitchen island. You giggled a bit.

You looked into his eyes, feeling a weird feeling build up in your body, something that never happend before.

“Who thought, y/n being this submissive to me-“ he smirked.

“That’s the Min Ho I know-“ You said as you leaned closer towards his face. He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer towards him. His strong grasp leaving goosebumps all over your body. You grabbed the back of his neck and crashed your lips onto his, getting rougher and sloppier with the seconds. His other hand traveled from your lower back up. You break away the kiss, grasping for air. Min Ho started to nibble on your jawline, slowly going down to your neck.

“Min Ho-“ you whined, wanting more.

He softly started to suck on your neck, making you squirm in pleasure and leaving you hickeys. You soflty grabbed his chin, making him look up. While both breathing heavily u started to kiss him again, hungrier then the kiss before.

Without even noticing someone coming in, you heard a ‘Well, there they are.”

You and Min Ho shot up, breaking up the kiss. Your eyes met with those from Q, who was standing next to Kitty and Dae. You quickly jumped off the counter and stood next to Minho. Both feeling embarrassed.

“I told you so-“ kitty says to Q and chuckled.

“Sorry for the cockblock by the way-“ Q says

“No worries.” Min Ho says akwardly.

“Well, we’re going to bed, be safe!” Q says as they all walked towards their rooms. Min Ho turned back to you, chuckling a bit.

“That was akward-“ you try to say but Min ho placed a soft kiss onto your lips which leaves u offguard.

“I liked it tho.” He says as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You blushed.

“Me too.” You say as you place your hand onto the back of his neck.

“Wanna stay over? Maybe we can finish what we started.” Min Ho says and smirked.

“Only if this isn’t going to be a one night thing.” U say, looking in his eyes.

“I swear I want nobody else but you.” He says and smiles.

“Alright, Min Ho- lets go.” You say and chuckle.

Min Ho smiled as he started to kiss you again.

#minho x reader #minho xo kitty #minho xo kitty x reader #min ho x reader #xo kitty #xo kitty imagine #x reader

[jeongheart]

touch

summary: 'physical touch refers to expressing and receiving affection through touch, physical closeness, and other forms of physical connection'.

w.c: 1.4k.

tags: strangers to friends to lovers (kinda?), mutual pining, fluff.

a.n: i'm soft, this was inspired by that video of jeongin bumping into jisung lol. my first innie work aaa i'm so happy that i finished it, i'm so proud of this one too.

as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes, leave your thoughts if you like! it means a lot.

Jeongin doesn't like to be touched.

He strongly believes that his personal space is sacred, and he can't understand the people who require physical contact 24/7.

It's no secret to anyone that he dislikes (physical) displays of affection, not that he doesn't have them with the people he loves, he prefers to let them know that he loves them with a special gift on their birthday or by buying them something that reminds him of that person.

He especially hates hugs. He feels trapped by the other person, and despite the fact that in the 22 years of his life he repeated it a thousand times, his family and friends don't seem to get the hint.

He doesn't want to be surly, really. It's something that has been like that since he can remember.

Jeongin doesn't like to be touched.

Except if that someone is you.

It's funny actually, you'd met casually, the way people met before: in real life. The first day of college was tough, everything and everyone was new and having to get used to a "grown-up" routine all of a sudden was something that took time.

He remembers the time exactly: 07:20 am. It was the first of the day, he was sitting in front of the class, he had a bad habit of being easily distracted, so he had to force himself to overcome his shame and desire to sleep to be in front of the blackboard.

The class started at 07:30, and the room was almost full. The professor arrived less than a minute ago and Jeongin was glad to be alone and in peace. His notebook lay open in front of him, the pages white and spotless.

Until you arrived, late.

You came running, it was obvious that you'd fallen asleep. Your hair was somewhat messy, probably due to the wind and the run you made through the building, your face was red (from embarrassment and exertion), but a smile was present on your face.

The professor looked at you funny and with a gesture of her hand she asked you to come in and take a seat somewhere free.

The only one was next to Jeongin.

Your eyes lit up at the sight of the empty chair, and even though you couldn't see it, Jeongin rolled his eyes as he saw you approaching the table.

With the woman summarizing her presentation, you arranged your things on the table (everything was in pastel colors, the blonde noticed) and you looked at him expectantly with that smile still on your face.

He could tell you were alone, actually, you were the only two who were. All your other classmates knew each other. So your attempt to start a conversation with him was logical, you also realized that he was alone.

"It looks like we'll be buddies" You smiled again and then told him your name while you extended your hand in an attempt to shake his, a very old gesture and not funny at all according to Jeongin.

He played dumb, but he told you his name. And then he said nothing more, watching out of the corner of his eye as you slowly lower your hand to rest it on your lap.

The weeks passed like this, you had a clear love language and unfortunately it was the one that Jeongin hated the most. You were always trying to touch him, not in a wicked or weird way, just friendly since that's how you showed affection. You were friends, but he couldn't tell you 'stop doing that' every time you reached out to touch his shoulder to get his attention.

You annoyed him every time you did that, but he couldn't deny that when you weren't getting clingy he appreciated your company. You were a comfortable presence in his life most of the time, and he liked not being alone in an unfamiliar environment where everyone greeted each other and ate together every day.

The first part of the academic year ended in the blink of an eye and the relationship between the two of you was only growing.

Jeongin didn't know when he let you touch his arm for the first time, he thinks it was in the library when you were studying for an exam.

He was nervous as he couldn't memorize anything and you, ever so nice, reached out your hand in an attempt to comfort him to rest it on Jeongin's left arm which was sprawled on top of the book he was trying to read.

Jeongin hadn't noticed that he hadn't tensed like the other times and he just kept reading and rereading the same sentences while the heat rose to your cheeks.

You didn't know what changed, but the fact that the boy who moved away every time you got at least 5 cm closer than normal had finally relaxed around you had butterflies flying in your stomach.

The months unfolded normal after that, and Jeongin would let you into his bubble of personal space more and more often.

He definitely hadn't realized how much he liked to feel your warm hands on his when he needed to calm down before a presentation or how his heart would jump in his chest when he saw you smile after you hugged him goodbye when he dropped you at your house after college.

"I like you a lot, Innie" You told him after the second exam.

Another final exam ended, and with it, the end of the year was drawing near. Jeongin was going to a vacation with his family in Busan and you definitely couldn't go weeks and weeks without seeing him, or his dimples or hearing his laugh and you would never forgive yourself if you didn't tell him everything that was on your mind every time you were together.

Jeongin looked like a statue, his mouth was opening and closing in an attempt to find the right words. His mind had short-circuited and it seemed that he had lost all ability to form a coherent sentence.

The snow was falling around the two of you, the heartless winter wrapped you from head to toe and as the minutes passed without an answer, your heart raced more and more and if Jeongin paid enough attention he could see how your eyes began to water as you overthought your sudden confession.

Maybe he didn't feel the same way, and you were making a fool of yourself. You began to prepare the speech of 'sorry, I shouldn't have said anything' to save your heart from the impending rejection and to be able to escape from that situation as quickly as possible.

Until Jeongin moved, he took two short steps until he was face to face to you. He was a head taller than you and your eyes searched his urgently, trying to decipher the answer he hadn't put into words.

The blond placed his big hands on your cheeks, reddened by the cold and now by shame, and caressed your skin with his thumbs.

You swore that if it wasn't for his soft grip on your face, you might have passed out from how fast your heart was beating, your legs felt like jelly, and the suspense felt eternal. You wanted to yell at him to answer or for him to do something, anything to finally stop your heart racing with feelings.

You opened your mouth to talk, but Jeongin closed the distance between you by placing his lips on yours.

You froze at first, arms still on either side of your body but then, as if awakened from a trance, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to lose yourself in the heat of the kiss, everything around you felt cold except for this moment, the soft feeling of his plush lips on yours and the warmth spreading from the tip of your fingertoes to every strand of hair on your head.

He moved only a few inches from you, enough to be able to whisper over your lips "I like you too".

You laughed slowly, so softly that it almost felt like a whisper, so only he could hear it "Yes, I think I realized that" And tangling your hands behind his neck you brought him closer to you to kiss him again.

Jeongin doesn't like to be touched, but you were the only exception.

#stray kids fluff #yang jeongin fluff #i.n fluff #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz soft thoughts #stray kids soft thoughts #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #bri writes

[blue-jisungs]

ONE SHOT

author's note. first of all thank u @kyrjnie for helping me out w the idea fot this one!!! its kinda ironic how it was one of the fics i had a plan for but it ended up being the last one lmaooo and also @eternalgyuuu w the banner<3 BUT my dudes its the last fic of the 2 year event!! thank u for sticking around - both around me and the event hehe - i'm very grateful <3 i hope you more or less enjoyed it!!!

summary. when a stranger keeps you company

warnings. its said that there was a creepy man following yn:(

word count. 1339

seungcheol has a good heart. 

no matter how scary may he look or how tough may he act, deep down he always has and will have a pure heart. 

he never considered it a flaw. not even now, that he is way too far from the stop where he was supposed to get off. in the middle of the week, at almost 1am. 

but he can’t leave you alone, can he? 

it’s not like he knows you… but on his way home at this late hour, he listened to music and just drifted away. the subway was gradually emptying, not many people going as far as him. 

but there was this one girl, who must have entered before him – you were already here, dozed off, when he took the subway. 

he glanced at you, subconsciously smiling at how cute you are. that was another thing about seungcheol – he was so pure. upon seeing an adorable thing, person or anything else, he’d always smile and adore it. 

and today it just happened to be you. he liked to think about others – one would call it being nosy but he genuinely cared about people, even strangers. 

so when he was about to approach his stop and leave, he furrowed his brows. there was this one man at the end of the subway car, eyeing you from time to time. 

and seungcheol despite glaring at him and having an overall intimidating aura (especially with the freshly dyed red hair) didn’t manage to scare him off. he just had a bad feeling and decided to wait for you to wake up. 

the creep must have been either stupid or stupidly stubborn since he just shrugged and relaxed in his seat. 

which is why now seungcheol is 13 stops away from his house and at the end of the line. 

the subway halted, announcing it’s the last stop. 

he sighed and stood up, observing with a corner of his eye how the stranger left the car. 

seungcheol stretched and sat next to you, hearing a muffled sound of a studio ghibli soundtrack playing in your earphones. he tapped your shoulder gently, observing your reaction.

you seemed to gradually wake up – scrunching your nose, stretching, opening an eye open, fighting a yawn and then finally, a sleepy gaze meeting his. 

your eyes widened upon seeing an unfamiliar man this close to you and he immediately moved a bit further.

“sorry to wake you up, it’s just… it’s the last stop” he smiled and you noticed his cute dimples. nodding, you grabbed your purse and blinked slowly. 

“um, thank you. i get off here either way but i really appreciate it” you sent him a warm smile and you two left the subway. 

the weather was a bit stuffy but it was nice to catch some fresh air. you saw the stranger looking at something behind your back. 

“do you get off here too?” you asked hesitantly. 

you take this route everyday at this hour, after work. you should’ve recognized his face if he was a regular too – especially with his handsome face and bright red hair. he shook his head softly. 

“i don’t” he smiled tenderly and his cute, brown eyes moved to need yours “i… there was a weird guy, he’s over there. i couldn’t bring myself to leave you alone. sorry if that made you uncomfortable”

you felt your stomach twist at the thought of some weirdo following you but then… the man in front of you willingly missed his stop to prevent anything from happening.

“what’s, uhm, your name? if i can…” you didn’t finish, shyness taking over you. but the redhead grinned, the cute dimples poking out again. 

“seungcheol. and yours?” he asked, hiding his hands in the pocket of his jean jacket. 

“y/n” you introduced yourself, unable to stop your own lips from forming into a smile – the gesture was too infectious not to do so. “seungcheol, thank you so much. you’re a real gentleman, i thought… there’s no good left in the world. but you proved me wrong

he scoffed, shaking his head. 

“no problem” he grinned and hesitated for a moment, biting down on his plump bottom lip. then he whipped out his phone in a cherry case and checked the time “i still have like…  half an hour before the next ride. and i would sleep way more peacefully if i knew you arrived home safe. can i walk you back?” 

normally, you’d decline. but upon slightly turning around you noticed a weird man glancing at you two. besides, you had a good feeling about seungcheol. maybe you shouldn’t… but there was just something so warm and genuine about him that you agreed. 

with a small nod, you grabbed his arm. turning around, you passed the man. 

“i know we’re strangers but sleeping on the subway doesn’t seem like a safe idea” seungcheol said softly. 

the night was peaceful, stars shining beautifully on the navy sky. a soft gust of wind blew in your face, running through your hair. 

“i don’t usually do this, don’t worry” you scoffed and fixed the bag on your arm. “today was just exhausting and i made the mistake of putting some calm songs” 

he smiled and took a glance over his shoulder. the man was nowhere to be seen. good. 

you had a small talk with him since your walk home usually takes up to 10 minutes. upon arriving at the entrance to the staircase, you slowly let go of his arm. stepping at the stair so you’d be on his eye level, he grinned cutely at the gesture. 

“i really appreciate your gesture, seungcheol. i know i said it like, five times already but… you know” you said shyly, fidgeting with a strap of your bag.

“and as i said: no problem. seriously, y/n” the man nodded and your eyes suddenly widened. 

“wait here a second!” you gasped and entered the code. seungcheol only saw a glimpse of you disappearing in the hallway. 

seungcheol let out a scoff and hid his hands in the pockets of his jacket, suddenly taking a deep breath.

you’re so adorable. 

just when he was about to check the time, the door swung open and you appeared in them again. there was a silver package in your hand, your chest moving up and down irregularly.

“the… stairs…” you breathed out and he laughed, noticing your messy hair. “i almost… tripped…”

shaking your head, you put the item in his calloused hand.

“i made you a quick sandwich. i figured you’re hungry and to even slightly return the favour, you know?” you smiled and tucked your hands in the pocket of your jeans. he smiled sweetly, his heart melting on the spot “it’s, um, lettuce, ham and cheese. nothing crazy, sorry”

“thank you so much. i bet it’ll be delicious” he hummed and silence fell between you two. 

seungcheol bit his bottom lip. 

he had only one shot. he had to be casual.

“um, i was wondering–”

“hey, if you ever–” 

you exchanged surprised looks when your voices merged upon speaking up at the same time. you both laughed, cute wrinkles forming around his eyes. 

“you go first” you insisted.

“if you ever need like… a scary dog privilege or some help, i can give you my number” he said with a boyish smile. the words were said and now… 

“even help with ordering a coffee?” you asked. seungcheol caught the hidden meaning and just nodded. 

“of course” he said and you exchanged numbers, moonlight shining on his handsome face. 

“and um, text me when you get home. i wanna know if my guard arrived safely too” you hummed, wrapping your arms around your torso. seungcheol saluted and slowly began to walk away back to the station. 

you stood there until he disappeared from your sight and he turned around like, 3 times. 

with heart thumping in your chest and a foolish smile on his face, cheol was glad he took that one shot.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

#seventeen x you #svt reactions #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen carat #seventeen kpop #svt fluff #scoups #seventeen seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #seungcheol x y/n #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol fanfic #svt #cheol #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reaction #scoups fluff

[l0v3tast3]

do you think we could get the 141 bois with a military!reader who had a guard/attack dog with them, and went out on missions with reader, and the dog got KIA’d, and reader is taking it harshly, because they grew attached to said dog?

My dog recently passed away and I kinda just.. need some 141 bois.

🥃-

✎ i'm so sorry to hear that honey :( losing an animal is a horrible pain and i hope you're doing okay!!

✎ tags : gender neutral!reader, angst but i tried to keep it vague, otherwise pretty much just platonic fluff, not proofread

♡ to put it mildly, the 141 guys thought you were a bit weird when you first joined, along with your dog. you spent more time with the animal than you did with humans, training, doting, just generally being in the same space.

♡ eventually the team came to understand your bond together, and who doesn't love dogs? while it was always yours, it also kind of became the team's dog.

♡ so when price had to haul you over his shoulder while you screamed at him to let you go, to let you back in that ruined building, they all felt it. they felt it the entire way back to base, the absence of the waging tail and you cooing at it on the entire helicopter ride back.

♡ you try to pretend like you're doing okay for a couple of days afterward. brief smiles that didn't fit right on your sunken face, exchanging polite greetings that sounded so dull. they walk on eggshells, always unsure of what to say to help you.

♡ they wait for you to break, and when you finally do, they send kyle in first. they figure he has the best shot of conveying their empathy to you (he's just as awkward as the rest of them, he just volunteered himself to try to help you first because they were all just staring at each other when soap brought it up).

♡ he brings you a case of bottles of your favorite drink and snacks, dropping them on your desk before sitting next to you on your bed. he asks you faintly if you want to talk about it.

♡ he lets you get it out, lets you cry and rant and whatever you need in that moment while he sits with you. when your tears finally run dry and the weight in your chest doesn't feel as empty, kyle gives you a hug and rubs your back for a few moments.

♡ the other three men are waiting when he comes out, and kyle shrugs and says he thinks he helped. soap snorted and asked him "what's that mean?" and kyle explains briefly what happened.

♡ they manage to coax you out of your room the next day. ghost and price were somewhere else on the base, and kyle had taken over soap's attempt at cooking eggs (i sincerely believe soap can only cook well enough to keep himself alive while kyle is actually pretty good). they sit you down and make you eat. soap takes the credit for the eggs even though you obviously saw kyle finishing them, and it makes you laugh a bit.

♡ they drag you to sparring practice, despite your many, many protests. you find that that's where ghost and price have been. they put you up against ghost first, and you're convinced that they're trying to make you more depressed now.

♡ as soon as he's coming at you, you're in "soldier mode" again and just focus on trying not to land on your ass too hard when he throws you down. usually you're a good sport and always shake hands after the rounds, but frustration was bubbling up quick today with every time you got pinned. you found yourself putting more and more into it, until you were actually fighting, clawing, biting, doing whatever you could. ghost let you and he took it easily. it was exactly what he would have needed if he were in your position; he still didn't just let you win, though.

♡ soap doesn't really know how to help you in a big way, so he just makes sure the little things are taken care of. he helps you clean your weapons and makes sure kyle buys the right drinks for you when he sends him out even though kyle knows what to get. he sticks around you but doesn't make it seem like you're on suicide watch or anything, just that you don't have to be alone for too long. he makes sure you eat, and you always answer "yes" because you don't even want him to offer to cook for you.

♡ it takes a couple of months before you're almost back to your normal self. there's always something missing, and you still reach down to your side on instinct, but the pit in your stomach stops opening quite as wide. you learn how to remember the happy memories again.

♡ when you're ready and if you feel like it, price is the one that takes you to start looking for a new furry friend. you know everything there is to know about dogs, and he knows you know it all, but you still get lectured about what to look for and what to avoid and not to get too close in case they try to bite. basically, he just becomes your father.

♡ "not that one, 's lookin' at me funny," he'll say once you start looking at them. "that one won't even make it through the heli ride!" basically, he thinks none of the dogs here are good enough for you, even though they're all wonderful in their own ways. he almost walks away when you kneel down and start giving scratches to a pomeranian that hadn't stopped yipping since you'd walked in.

♡ while they may all be emotionally-stunted men, they know what loss is like. they'll be there for you in the ways that matter.

#call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #drabble #headcanons #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price #john price x reader #fanfiction #— lilly writes! ♡

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Ring of Fire*

————————————————————————-

Summary: The night after getting engaged in Portofino, Italy on Valentine’s Day turns into one of the best nights you and Joe have ever had.

(Part two to - Part 1)

Warnings: Smut

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

————————————————————————-

February 14th, 2023

Joe had gotten dinner delivered to the Airbnb, and soon after we were done he couldn't wait much longer to get down to business.

He had just taken the empty take-out boxes into the kitchen fully clothed but by the time he walked back into the bedroom he was just in his boxers.

“Lose a few things on the way there?” - you giggled

“I’m a good multitasker.” - Joe shrugged

“C’mere goofball.” - you

Joe didn't waste any time crawling on top of me to fiercely press his lips to mine.

He shifted around till more of his body was on top of mine so he had something to grind himself on.

I could already feel his familiar erection through his thin cotton boxers, and the more he ground against me the deeper the ache of wanting him grew.

“Joey.” - you whimpered into his mouth

“What is it, baby?” - Joe

“Wanna touch you.” - you

Joe groaned as my hand wandered down his torso, making a beeline straight for his crotch to run my fingers over his bulge.

“Okay before we do anything, I need to admit something.” - Joe

“What’s that Joe?” - you

“I have fantasies about this night for years, and I kinda uhm… I don't know…” - Joe

“You already have a plan for how you want to have sex tonight.” - you finished his sentence

“Exactly. You don't have to, but I really want this to play out a certain way.” - Joe

“After everything you've done for me the past two days, I think sex your way might just be the perfect repayment. Just tell me what you need, and I'll do it.” - you

Joe nodded and stood up from the bed. I watched him grab the full-length mirror from one side of the room and set it up against the wall in front of the bed.

He quickly discarded his boxers and flopped onto the bed where he was sitting directly across from the mirror.

“Come here.” - Joe

I was about to stand up from the bed thinking Joe wanted me on my knees for him, but he stopped me and told me to sit behind him.

“Take your clothes off first… please.” - Joe

Giggling at his remembrance of manners, I discarded my clothes and scooted to sit behind him. My legs were on either side of his and my chest was to his back.

“So… no head today?” - you

“Nope.” - Joe

“What do you need, baby?” - you

“Your hand.” - Joe

“Oh okay… uhm should I take my ring off?” - you

“Hell no! Oh and… please use your left.” - Joe

I was slightly taken aback by Joe’s request because I couldn't remember the last time he asked for a handjob.

“Please, baby.” - Joe

He seemed whiny as if he wasn't able to wait any longer, and when my gaze flicked down to his fully erect cock… I understood why.

Joe’s shaft was fully red and throbbing, precum dripping out of his tip and onto his stomach practically begging for attention.

Now I needed to touch him.

After spitting into my left hand, I immediately wrapped it around his cock.

He groaned as I gave one slow pump but as soon as my pace got quicker, his head fell back onto my shoulder.

“Fuck, y/n…” - Joe grunted

It felt weird in this position with him. Joe was always dominant in bed… but right now it felt like the roles had reversed.

The mirror was such a hot move. Just watching myself stroke his dick as he looked completely blissed out.

Joe’s eyes were clenched closed, his glistening chest was progressively heaving, and his top teeth were sunk into his bottom lip.

He knew that if he opened his eyes and saw your hand, and that engagement ring, around his dick, that he'd immediately cum.

And a few minutes later, that's exactly what happened. Joe opened his eyes and immediately moaned when that ring he put on your finger sparkled in the light. You felt him harden even more and he immediately warned you of his upcoming climax.

“Shit! Fuck, I'm cumming!” - Joe

I let go of his slowly softening erection and rubbed over his chest. His breathing was irregular and I just wanted to get him calmed down before the next round.

“You good, baby?” - you

“Mhm. Just… gimme a minute.” - Joe

I took this time to get up and grab a washcloth to wipe off my hand and clean Joe up.

A few minutes later Joe was ready and he quickly crawled on top of me after laying me down.

“You drive me crazy…” - Joe whispered in your ear before he slowly kissed the side of your neck

“You drive me crazy.” - you laced your fingers into his hair

Joe slowly kissed my neck before he started moving his lips down my body.

Once he was close to his prize, Joe gently grasped my thighs and spread them.

“You are gorgeous.” - Joe groaned

Not long after that, he dropped his head and connected his lips to my dripping core. He gave a thorough suck to my clit before thrusting his tongue between my folds.

“Joe! Fuck!” - you moaned

Despite eating dinner just ten minutes ago, he ate me out like a starved man.

“You taste so good..” - Joe moaned

He was working me so well, continuing his assault with that fucking magic-like mouth. God, calling plays isn't the only thing it's good for.

“I’m close!” - you

I whined out of protest when he pulled away from me but just a second later he easily sunk two thick fingers into me.

“Oh god!” - you moaned

Joe leaned up to where his face was just inches from mine, and I could feel his breath on my lips.

“Can you take another one of my fingers?” - Joe

“I-” - you moaned

“Words, baby.” - Joe

“Yes!” - you

He slipped in a third finger and started rubbing me with his thumb.

“Joe…” - you whined

“Come for me. Come on my fingers.” - Joe

Not long after that I felt the built-up feeling in my stomach snap like a rubber band and I came hard.

Joe softly kissed my cheeks and lips to calm me down, and gently pulled his fingers out.

The sight of Joe sucking my essence off of his fingers was so fucking hot.

“God… you taste like candy.” - Joe leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours

Tasting myself on his lips caused me to moan and arch up into him, feeling his hard cock on my thigh.

“Come here. I need to get inside you.” - Joe

He gently pulled me down to the edge of the bed where we were earlier and sat me on his thighs.

“I want you to ride me reverse cowgirl and watch how hot you look while doing it in the mirror. Sound good?” - Joe

There's the dominant Joe I know and love.

“Yes…” - you

Joe sat me on the ground and turned me to where I was facing the mirror before picking me up and setting me back on his lap, this time my back was to him.

He had me to where I was just barely hovering over his cock, Joe would tell me when to take him.

“You look so pretty, baby.” - Joe looked at you in the mirror

I watched him move his hands from my thighs to my stomach, then he moved them even higher till he was eventually cupping my breasts.

“Ride me.” - Joe

Sinking onto him, both Joe and I moaned when I was fully seated.

“You're so tight.. and so fucking wet for me.” - Joe

My eyes met Joe’s in the mirror and I watched his flick down to my engagement ring. When it did his cock twitched inside of me and I knew we both weren't going to last long.

“Who’s making you feel good?” - Joe

“Y-you.” - you

“Who?” - Joe

He reached down and pinched my clit, making me see stars and clamp down onto him hard while getting closer to my climax.

“Joey!” - you

At some point, Joe and I were both watching his thick-length move in and out, in and out, in and out.

“You like that? Watching my cock?” - Joe

“Joey... please.” - you

“Please what?” - Joe

“Make me come.” - you moaned

Without telling him what I specifically wanted, he nodded and started thrusting up inside me as I bounced on his lap.

“Fuck.” - Joe groaned into your shoulder

I slid my hands up my own body to cover Joe’s wanting to have even more contact with him.

“Who’s are you?” - Joe grunted

“Yo-your’s.” - you

“Exactly. You're all mine.” - Joe

My head fell back onto Joe’s shoulder as he continued pounding into me, I knew I was going to have an orgasm soon.

“Joey I'm so close!” - you

“Me too, baby. Almost there.” - Joe groaned

He laced his fingers with mine and grunted loudly as his thrusts started getting more sporadic.

A moment later, Joe dropped one of his hands to use his thumb on my clit, and after one certainly planned hard thrust my walls clamped down onto him hard.

“Joe, I'm cumming!” - you

“Fuck, y/n!” - Joe

We practically came in sync and I wasn't at all surprised when Joe collapsed backward and I tumbled on top of him.

Joe gently rubbed over my stomach for a few minutes, letting both of us catch our breath before he pulled out and laid down next to me. He pulled me into his chest and softly kissed my forehead while whispering words of praise.

“You did so well, my love.” - Joe gently stroked your cheek

“I love you.” - you nuzzled yourself into his neck

“I love you too.” - Joe wrapped an arm around your back

Minutes later Joe ushered me into the shower. I protested even getting up but he told me he'd do everything for me while we were in the shower… and he did.

Joe had an arm around my waist just in case I fell asleep standing up and washed my remaining makeup off before shampooing and conditioning my hair. He had to let go of me to wash my body, but the feeling of his hands softly rubbing over my body made up for the loss of contact.

Soon we would be leaving the warmth of the shower. The feel of the cold tiles on my feet made me shiver so Joe immediately wrapped a towel around me that had been on the warmer. I was so grateful to have such a great boyfriend fiance.

Joe slipped one of his large T-shirts over my head and put on a pair of boxers before ushering me into the bed.

As soon as he was under the covers I snuggled up to him, wanting to be close enough to him to feel the warmth his body emitted.

“Pretty girl.” - Joe moved a hair out of your face to kiss your forehead

“Handsome boy.” - you buried your face in his chest

“I love you.” - Joe

“I love you too, sheisty.” - you

“Goodnight.” - Joe chuckled

“Wait can I ask you something?” - you sleepily mumbled

“Of course.” - Joe

“Does my engagement ring… turn you on?” - you

It was a serious genuine question, so when Joe chuckled loudly I cut him a look that had him giving me a sheepish smile.

“No, the ring itself does not turn me on. Seeing it on you, knowing that I put that rock on your finger that physically shows that you're taken… turns me on.” - Joe

“Really?” - you giggled

“Yes. Guys will see that ring and be like… ‘damn she's got a nice fiance better not mess with her’ and I think that's so goddamn hot.” - Joe

“Sounds like insecure possessiveness.” - you

“Wait I didn't mean it like that… its hard to explain but…” - Joe

“Babe, I'm kidding. I just can't believe that I made you come that hard from a handjob earlier.” - you

“For real. I think I understand what Johnny Cash meant when he sang about a Ring of Fire.” - Joe

“Joseph Lee!” - you giggled

A few jokes and giggles later, I fell asleep in Joe’s arms. We fell asleep not as boyfriend and girlfriend, but for the first time, a couple engaged to be married.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: on the 8th day of Christmas I gave y’all some smutty smut smut ❤️

Hope you enjoyed!! 🤍

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐒𝐮𝐢 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 6.1k

chapter summary: you and joel take your relationship to the next level.

warnings: themes of grief and loneliness, hurt/comfort, fluff, body painting, joel being a very lousy nude model, oral (male receiving), heavy petting, fingering, shower sex, edging, dirty talking

a/n: aaaaand we're BACK-- the hiatus is officially over and I am so ready to focus on this series. I've missed them so much and I hope you guys all did too 💗 also special thanks to @undercoverpena for cheering me on while I was writing this, love you to the moon and back bby xx

Chapter Eleven || Chapter Thirteen

Loneliness had never been a stranger to you. You had your own brand of it, like a homemade fig preserve. Being so close with it, you’ve added something from yourself, and in return, it has branded your personality in such a way that it has become hard to think there was anything but. 

For the longest time that special brand of loneliness had been your closest friend. During adulthood, you noticed how tired you were of asking for people to be emotionally aware of your needs, your wants. You were tired of spelling it out for them. Your parents weren’t like you, neither was Auggie. No one around you was emotional like you were, so you learned to keep it locked tight in your heart. You cried at night. You smiled during the day. You felt off and weird when family members hugged you and wept on your shoulder, you dissociated. You’ve noticed this, especially at your grandfather’s funeral. He was gone and you hadn’t shed a tear among the dark black fabrics. 

Auggie knew you did this, but alas, it didn’t really matter. 

So when you found a family emotionally rich despite not having much, it came as a mild shock to you. Sarah didn’t have these issues. She didn’t care if she was emotional or not, or if what she said came off as needy. The only emotional constipation you noticed was between brothers, but even that didn’t stop them from addressing what they felt during an argument. 

You were no stranger to emotional outbursts. Reading a book and eyes welling before you could finish a sentence. 

Now, you feel less lonely thanks to Joel, Tommy, and Sarah, each filling a different gap in your withered soul. But even that doesn’t stop the old habit of sewing your mouth shut. 

You wake with a heavy weight on your chest. It’s still dark, the sky a dark shade of royal blue. It’s actually a beautiful night. However, your eyes are blind to it. Your skin is damp with sweat. If you saw a nightmare, you don’t remember what it was. You remember going to bed uncomfortable, Tommy’s sad eyes branded into your lids like tattoos you both want to and don’t want to get rid of. 

You gradually rise from the bed, the thin summer quilt sliding off your now cold body. You shudder. It had been a long time since you last felt this way. Empty and lonely. It always feels like you have to suffer through these emotions on your own, your need to smile through it more prominent than anything else. 

You smack your lips together, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You need water. Ice cold water. 

Going down the stairs you don’t think how dark it is, or how some particular shadows remind you of your childhood when you would wake up thanks to the jarring sound of mosquitos, looking for comfort downstairs where your grandparents were usually up. Fuck, your chest is even heavier now. The muscle in your chest more like a cannonball than heart. You’re hyper-aware of the way your chest rises and falls with every breath and quickly, you make your way to the kitchen. 

The light of the fridge momentarily blinds you but despite your burning irises you manage to wrap your fingers around the familiar handle of the old jug. You pour yourself a big glass and take small swallows.

A soft wind caresses the outer skeleton of the house. The shadows of leaves dance over the walls, again, a familiar sight that drags you back and makes you sick simultaneously. 

“You a’right there, sweetheart?” 

You jump at the sound of a voice deepened with sleep. Tommy is staring at you from the entrance, brows furrowed, the crease between them so much like his brother. Taking another small sip of water, you swallow and place the cold glass on the counter. 

“I’m fine,” you grit out, your voice leveled. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.” 

Before you know it, Tommy’s warm hands are on your face, cradling your cheeks. His thumbs move over your cheekbones, pressing and applying pressure over the bone. Your heart skips a beat. It takes you everything not to lean into his touch, to seek out that comfort only he could give. But you think of Joel, you think of him, and you stop yourself. If Tommy knew about you and Joel, if you were completely honest with him—an open book, you would’ve taken that comfort to yourself, not a worry in your heart but he doesn’t know and that alone makes your stomach clench with guilt. 

“You don’t look fine,” his hands slide down to your shoulders. “Was it a nightmare?” 

You blink heavily, your eyes locked on one another. Two broken people in a dark kitchen. It pains you that a nightmare is Tommy’s first guess. You wonder how many times he’d woken up to the faux scent of gunpowder and screams only to be comforted by the darkness of the ceiling. 

“Something like that. I. . sometimes forget that they’re gone,” your eyes drop to his chest. “And then I remember that no matter what, in the end, I’ll be lonely.” 

“Lonely?” he spits out the word, shocked, hurt and baffled. “What are you talkin’ about? You have Joel—You have me.” 

You know you do. You really do. But after years of going through it all alone, to see your friends have their own support systems and people to protect them, care for them, it’s hard to believe you’ve found your people. It’s hard to believe that years of solitude where you had to take care of yourself was over. Old habits die hard. Your heart shatters piece by piece. Your heart nothing but a heavy weight in your chest. You want to collapse, to scream, shout and cry. Salty tears sting the corner of your eyes. Suddenly you’re drowning in your past like it’s still your present, the thickness of it goes all the way up to your neck and you can’t breathe— 

“Hey—hey,” Tommy cups your cheeks, thumbs running down where tears would be but your skin is dry. “Come back to me, it’s a’right. I’ll always be with you, you know? Even if you move far away, I’ll always be a thorn in your ass.” 

You crack a smile and manage to nod, placing a hand over his own. You think a tear finally falls, maybe even two. You hate feeling like this. Hate it. Tommy doesn’t look convinced by your expression. 

“Do. . .do you want me to call Joel?” 

His words freeze you to the bone. Of course, he would ask that—Tommy Miller, always thoughtful, always putting others first. They both do. You even think to some extent Sarah does the same thing. All of them throwing themselves in front of a moving train in different ways. 

You don’t know if he’s noticed something. Or if he just thinks that Joel’s presence would be more soothing, since he’s used to relying on his older brother. 

Either way, you want him to know that he’s enough. 

And he’ll always be enough. 

You shake your head, “No,” he furrows his brows when you part your arms. “But I wouldn’t say no to a hug.” 

Strong arms sneak under your armpits and broad palms press against your back. Tommy pulls you incredibly close. Holds you indescribably tight. His scent fills your lungs. A bit of sweat mixed with a day-old deodorant. He smells nice. He always had. His skin is warm against your cheek and you smile widely this time but he doesn’t see. 

“Thank you, Tommy,” you whisper into the darkness. “I would be lost without you.” 

“Are you sure you’re a’right?” 

“Yes, Joel.” 

“Hundred percent sure?” 

“Yes, sir,” you declare, your gaze fixed on Joel as you peer from the side of the canvas for a better look. “Now stand still.” 

Joel grumbles something inaudible and straightens his neck, attempting to keep his limbs as still as possible. Your eyes rove across his broad shoulders, the expanse of his chest, you take in the shadows that appear between every sinewy muscle and think about how to convey it into your painting. You still haven’t dared to look further down. Looking down means that you’ll definitely be distracted. 

You sketch a couple of lines that vaguely resemble his shape. You’ve missed painting nudes and when you mentioned it to Joel, he was eager to accept without actually realizing he had to stay still for a generous amount of time. 

“You should’ve called,” he grumbles. “I would’ve come straight over.” 

“I know,” you sigh. “But it was late, and Tommy was there.” 

He doesn’t say anything but you can sense his displease. 

“He’s my friend, Joel,” you answer, observing the thick contour of his neck. “And your brother.” 

“I know that. I just don’t like the idea of not being there for you.” 

“Tell him then,” you say a bit harshly. He doesn’t seem affected by your shift in tone. Another line joins the others. “If it was anything serious I would’ve called, hell, I would’ve come to you but it wasn’t that serious. I was just in a. . . mood.” 

“Tommy sure don’t think so.” 

You don’t say anything and focus on drawing the rest of his torso, he clicks his tongue in frustration, “I hate when you do this, you know.” 

You raise your eyebrows, “Do what?” 

“Downgrade your problems. It’s okay if you’re still grievin’. It’s okay if there are some things you’re still workin’ out. I just don’t want you to think you’re alone, I can be your rock, sweetheart. I’d be happy to.” 

“You are my rock, Joel—and keep still.” He huffs and straightens again, your lips twitching into a smile. “I’ll try to open up more. Promise. I do feel really lucky I have you. And Sarah—and Tommy. Some nights I just wake up feeling bad. Yesterday was just a bit more intense.” Joel grunts in approval and you add. “Also hasn’t Tommy heard of the phrase ‘snitches get stitches’?” 

“He wasn’t snitchin’,” he pouts, you want to take his bottom lip between your fingers and kiss him. “I actually asked how he was doin’ but he quickly brushed it off and told me about you instead.” 

“Of course, he did.” 

He nods but still seems wound up like a toy. His head drops a bit, the click of your tongue reminding him to keep still. 

Your eyes trace the contours of Joel’s body. He’s an excellent specimen, everything about him so human, so raw. Every freckle, every crinkle you want to eternalize onto your canvas. He’s not looking at you anymore. Eyes glued to the legs of the easel. You still haven’t fully taken in the sight of him. Sometimes you’re truly afraid of how strongly you feel for him, how much you’d be willing to lay down just to be with him. 

Honestly, a pocket of time would be ideal. That way you could spend eternity in this peaceful moment, living in bliss. 

You place the pencil down and walk up to him. His gaze is drawn to your once more, “Sorry, sweet tea, did I move again?” 

“Maybe a bit,” you lie, standing an inch away from his naked body. You press your thumbs against his cheekbones then slide them down, feeling the roughness of hair tickling your skin. His eyes flutter shut momentarily, before opening again. 

You don’t say a word. Time is still around you and you believe if you try hard enough this can be your forever. You trace the outer lines of his lips, then trace the seam. His lips part, a bit of tongue showing in between—you touch that too, shallowly dipping one finger before moving on to his neck, “To draw is to feel,” you muster, the ball of your thumb grazing firmly over his Adam’s apple. “Will you let me feel you?” 

“‘Course,” he chokes out. “Whatever you need.” 

His words make your chest swell with affection. Joel’s words make you feel brave enough to allow your gaze to venture down. You press the flat of your palms over the swell of his stomach, something trembles within—life, you think, he’s so full of it. Your one hand dares to go lower, playing with the dark curls that lead to his soft cock. 

However, he doesn’t remain soft for long, it twitches and grows, the head gaining a reddish hue. 

Joel tilts his head, gradually leaning in to claim your lips with his own. He stops when your fingers bite into his bare hips, lodging into that delicate spot between bone and muscle, he swallows thickly, cock raising with attention. 

“Stay still,” you whisper. “And maybe I’ll reward you.” 

“Oh, we’re playing that game now?” he says with a crooked smile that makes your stomach twist delightfully. You only smile as your hand slides lower and lower, until you cup his semi-hard cock. His breath hitches. 

I love you like this, you want to say but remain silent. You stroke him slowly until he’s fully hard, the warm muscle throbbing in your palm, you press your lips against his neck, sucking on his skin until his hips jerk. 

“I’m not playing any games,” you mouth into his skin. “If you let me paint you, I’ll let you fuck my mouth. Does that sound like a fair deal?” 

Joel thrusts into your hand once more, groaning as you lick the vein that throbs under his skin, “I won’t lie, sweetheart, that might be hard if you keep your hand where it is.” He exhales a shaky breath, the warmth of it fanning your skin. “But sounds fair enough, I’ll try.” 

You press a quick kiss to the small patch within his beard and pull away before he can follow the heat of your lips. He’s as still as a statue when you get behind the canvas, but instead of resuming sketching the rough outline of his body, you grab two tubes of paint and a brush; though you have your doubts you’ll be using the tool, you’d much prefer to feel the heat of his skin softening the paint between your fingers. 

When you come back to him, confusion crosses his face. 

“I thought you were gonna be paintin’?” 

Your lips twitch into a sinister smile, “I am.” 

As cliche as it might sound, Joel has always reminded you of a deep, rich shade of red—the color of blood—but he also reminds you of an earthy purple, the type of shade that makes you want to bury your fingers in it as if you might actually feel the earth itself.  

You shake two tubes of paint in front of his eyes. He’s still confused, yet remains still. You pop the red paint open first, squeezing a generous amount over his shoulder. You watch it trickle down, drops of crimson staining his torso, the color so deep that it looks too real. Your heart jumping, you quickly smear it down his chest and all the way to his stomach. Just like you predicted, the brush is forgotten, slipping from your fingers and onto the carpeted floor. Joel shudders, his breath caught in his throat, you see him clench his jaw. 

“Darlin’. . .” he rasps, voice full of gravel, and your hand stops where it follows the V of his lower abdomen.

“Do you want me to stop?” 

“No,” he answers quickly, breathily. “Don’t ever stop touching me. Don’t ever stop looking at me like that—like I’m the most valuable thing you have. Like I’m worth a damn.” 

“You are.” 

Slowly, your fingertip traces an invisible path upward, leaving a trail of red paint in its wake. Joel shudders and gulps loudly. You draw meaningless shapes, circle where his tattoo is, and draw shapes of ancient alphabets you vaguely remember from when you read a book about the Late Bronze Age. Joel shudders, twitches, and tenses under your touch but never actually moves, keeping his stance. 

After the red pigment is nothing more but a fading shade of pink, you pour some purple paint into your palm and apply it directly. You press your hand directly above his heart, leaving your handprint over it before moving to his back, “Fuck,” he groans. 

Looking down, you notice him clenching his buttocks and slightly swaying forward, you smile, his cock must be dripping. You can’t wait to take him in your mouth, for him to use you however he pleases. You need him to be desperate when he takes you, sliding his length down your throat as he berates you for taunting him with sinful touches in the guise of making art. 

You press your hands together and smear the remnants of red with the purple, the fresh paint overwhelming the other. When both hands are fully coated, your cup both his ass cheeks, sliding your hands up, you kiss the taut skin between his shoulder blades. You leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses all the way to his neck and lick the sensitive spot behind his earlobe. 

“I’d wrap my hand around your cock but I’m afraid the paint isn’t edible so you wouldn’t be able to fuck my mouth,” you tease. “Tell me what you want to do to me, Joel?” 

He groans, “Keep this up and you’ll find out, sweetheart. I’m not a patient man, you should know.” 

“But isn’t the wait fun?” you challenge, your hands sliding up to his front, right above his pelvis. “The taste of sex on your tongue, the way your cock throbs with the thought of my warm cunt tight around it? Don’t you feel that tingle. . .” you gradually lower yourself, dragging your tongue down his spine, a choked out sound rips from his throat, “going down your spine, reminding you of how good it’s finally going to feel when you push down my throat, cutting my airflow and taking me however you want?” 

Joel breathes heavily, his stomach clenching with every whispered word, “Darlin’, please.” 

“Turn around.” 

You look up as he does, you gently take his hand and place it on your cheek, your heart dissolving into something thick and sweet like honey when his thumb strokes your skin. His gaze grows soft, the arousal in them dimming, splitting away like waves to show the emotion. 

“Your knees are gonna hurt,” he says, voice dropping. 

He’s right, they are going to hurt. “I don’t care.” 

You lower both hands to your lap, obediently parting your lips, sticking your tongue out. Joel wraps a hand around his cock and jerks himself until he’s fully hard, he holds you by the hair and drags you closer. 

“You want me to fuck that pretty mouth?” 

“Please,” you repeat his own plea from earlier. 

The heft of his cock on your tongue almost feels like a blessing from above. Your eyes flutter shut. Joel slides himself torturously slow, inch by inch, as he fills your mouth, your lips stretching wide to accommodate his width. He moves down your throat, awakening your gag reflex, you hold it down, choking around his cock. 

“Fuuuuuck, that feels good,” he groans, throwing his head back. With shallow thrusts, he works your throat open. Your one hand slides between your thighs as the other braces against Joel’s thick thigh. Right now, you’re relieved you’re wearing your favorite flannel pajama shorts instead of something uncomfortable like jeans. “That’s it, touch yourself, sweetheart. I want you to come while I’m fuckin’ your throat.” You whine filthily at his words, pressing your fingers between your clothed folds, you stroke your aching clit. Joel doesn’t stop running his mouth. “You must be soaked down there, poor thing.” 

Tears sting the corner of your eyes and you manage to slip your fingers down your shorts. His thrusts become rougher, sliding all the way out before fucking himself even deeper into your mouth, down your throat. You swallow helplessly around him and the groan that slips from between his lips forces the clench of your cunt, you breathe heavily through your nose and draw vicious circles around your clit. 

“Look at you—you like me fuckin’ your mouth, honey?” You nod, his lips curling in the most devastating way. “You gonna come while rubbing that pretty pussy of yours?” 

You nod again, this time accompanied by a moan. The reverberations of the sound trembles against his sensitive cock and he rocks into your mouth harder—this time tears do slip past your fluttering lashes. You can’t breathe, your vision is blurry, yet this is everything you’ve ever wanted. Your heart feels so full, so content. He fucks every thought out of your head, overwhelming your senses.  

“Shit, shit, shit—Don’t look like that, sweetheart, don’t cry, if you do I—I’ll—” Spit trickles down the corner of your lips, everything a wet, sopping mess. With every thrust, he manages to go down your throat, his mouth constantly muttering words you can barely hear. More tears flow freely down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva and precome going down your neck. His hips move in a constant stammering motion, balls heavy on your chin as he snaps shallowly into your throat without pulling back. 

You look up to him. Your eyes shining and glimmering, Joel meets your gaze, his eyes going wide, hips stilling—

He spills down your throat, hard. 

You swallow, swallow, and swallow, gulping everything that he gives. But it’s still not enough, there’s too much, some of it spilling from the sides from where his cock stretches your lips. Your body jerks, your fingers move slowly around your clit and you press harder, your feel the warm slick dripping down your fingers, making a mess of the rug underneath. 

“Sorry, sorry—” Joel mutters over and over again almost like a chant. His voice hoarse as his chest raises with quick shallow breaths. He then lets out a deep exhale, his cock throbbing in your mouth as he pulls out. “I wanted to last longer.” 

You kiss the tip of his spent cock, “Come here,” you mumble and he quickly drops down, you take his hand, pulling it between your legs. His eyes snap to yours, pupils eating away the color as he presses two fingers into your soaked cunt. Your eyes roll and your hips immediately grind down. “I came too. I came from you fucking my mouth, Joel. That’s how good it felt. You don’t need to apologize.” 

“Fuck, you’re really makin’ it hard to stay soft darlin’.” You smile as you cup his flaccid cock, feeling the weight of it in your palm, he hisses. “You’re gonna pay for teasin’ me, neighbor. ‘Should take you on my fuckin’ knee as punishment.” 

A fresh gush of wetness spreads around his fingers, “I think I would like that,” you say, kissing his neck. “But now I think I should actually finish sketching you for my painting.” 

“I don’t think I have much strength left in my legs,” he says with a chuckle. 

“Who said anything about standing?” you stand up, taking him with you. “I’m going to paint something else and for that, I want you on the bed.” 

You hadn't realized how much paint you managed to cover yourself in when you were pouring purple and red down Joel's shoulders.

He actually managed quite well when you asked him to lay on the bed instead of standing, and you’re fairly certain he dozed off for a moment or two. You didn’t mind. You loved how the painting had ended up, a sensual silhouette of a working man sleeping with sun cascading down his skin. 

“Surprise surprise, pourin’ paint on me got you dirty too,” Joel coos playfully, following you into the dimly lit bathroom. He stuffs your bedsheets into the washing machine, your eyes catch the smear of red and purple paint. “Want us to take a shower beautiful? We still have time until Sarah comes back from school.” 

“Someone’s cheerful now that they’ve taken their nap.” Joel holds you by the waist and pulls you close, unlike him, you’re still fully clothed—dirty, but clothed. His cock presses against the swell of your stomach. 

“I’m mighty tired of bein’ the only one bearin’ my naked ass,” he tugs off your shirt, the motion so quick that your protest dissolves on your tongue before it can materialize. “Also you owe me a nice back scrub with all those fancy soaps you have.” 

“I thought I paid my depth when you came down my throat.” 

“I don’t recall sayin’ exactly how much you owed me for this.” 

Your lips split into a grin. Without moving away, you bend over and slip out of your shorts, throwing them towards the washing machine. The flickering lustful specks in his eyes make your heart jump, they look like gold. Despite coming down your throat about forty minutes ago, he still wants you. He’s not tired of spending time with you, talking to you, humoring you in your endeavors— he’s not even mildly annoyed, which is something you thought everyone would feel eventually if they spent enough time with you. It was only a matter of when. 

You suddenly slap your palms softly against his cheeks, cradling his scruffy cheeks. His eyes rip away from your naked body to meet your gaze. You take in a slow breath. And out. Your heart rams painfully within your chest. Joel’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in your expression, observing you slowly as if he’s tasting what you’re feeling like aged wine. His fingers slither around your wrist and sliver down your forearms. 

“Darlin’?” 

“I love you, Joel.” 

His lips part, not with surprise, but with relief. You’re smiling giddily now, not a feeling of worry in your bones, just happiness, eagerness. You don’t care if it’s too early. Too late. It’s what you feel. And all you feel is love love love. 

“I love you too, Tea.” 

Joel brings your palm to his lips and kisses the curve of it slowly, he moves up to the middle, his mustache tickling you when he lays another kiss, “I love you so fuckin’ much.” 

You close the distance, slanting your lips together, you drink him. His lips move to the beat of the moment, tickling down tenderly and smoothly like molasses. Joel’s tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open up for him. He tastes you quickly before pulling back. He exhales deeply, his breath fanning your swollen lips. 

“Let’s get cleaned up.” 

You grin, raising an eyebrow, “So you can get me dirty again?” 

“Somethin’ like that,” he huffs. 

Joel leads you to the tub, acting as if you’re his guest and not the other way around. He turns on the shower, allows the water to run down his fingers until the temperature is just right, and then carefully helps you step in. You moan happily at the way warm water moves down your skin, softening your body and chipping away at the paint. Joel stands right behind you. You want to turn around, clean him of the colorful mess, but he doesn’t budge. His hands touch your shoulders, then skims down. 

“You first,” he murmurs, fingers washing away the paint. You lean back. His hands follow a trail to your front, kneading your breasts. 

“I don’t have any paint there,” you hum. 

“My bad, these eyes aren’t what they used to be.” 

He gives them another squeeze before going lower and lower. . .  until he’s pushing his hand between your pressed tighs. You laugh, “I definitely don’t have any paint there.” 

His teeth suddenly sink into your shoulder. The blossoming pain makes you gasp and your body reacts by bending over, rolling your hips towards him. With a soft growl, Joel grips your hips and pushes you up against the glass panel. You moan with your breasts pressing firmly against the glass, the constant shower of water making you slip. 

Joel’s lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck you with my fingers,” he rasps. “Want you to come all around them, sweetheart.” 

Your body flushes from the inside out, “What if I can’t?” 

“You don’t have a choice,” he pushes forward, notching his cock between your folds, you whimper. “If you want me to fuck you with this cock, you better show me how desperate you are for it by makin’ a mess, honey.” 

When you don’t answer he grips your neck and forces your head back, he kisses your forehead, “Are you gonna be good for me?” 

Your stomach bottoms out, “Y—Yes, I’ll be good.” 

He kisses your forehead once more before releasing you. You fall forward with a whimper, bracing your hands against the slippery panels. Joel slides two fingers inside of you with embarrassing ease, “You like it when I’m rough,” he states, thrusting the digits in and out. You nod. “I love you,” he then says, catching you but surprise. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles darkly. “God, you’re gonna make me go insane—I love you—” 

You clench again, a loud moan dropping from your lips. The sounds you make are drowned by the water, yet he can hear you crystal clear. Your body reacts viscerally to his words, a flame that won’t ever go out burning wild in your gut—between your legs. He whispered the words into your skin, into your mouth, against your tongue. You push against his fingers, urging him to go deeper. He does. He holds you by the neck while fucking you with thick fingers, you cry out his name, whimpering those three little words that make him go inside just as much as it does to you. 

“Come for me,” he grunts. “Come for me so I can fuck you for real.” 

“J–Joel, fuck—” 

Your back arches, your orgasm rips from you, he takes it. It’s violent, earth shattering. 

Your jaw drops as he squeezes your throat lightly, the pressure adding to the intensity. You can vaguely hear him muttering ‘That’s it’ over and over, but you can barely hear the rasp of his voice. 

Joel kisses your cheek, drags his lips down your neck, “How’re you feelin’?” 

“Good. . . great actually.” 

Pulling out his fingers, he pushes them between your lips, you lap at them hungrily. While you’re busy devouring your own taste, Joel buries himself deep in your cunt. You whimper around his fingers, brows furrowing with pleasure. He pulls the digits out and grips your chin. His chest heaves as he pulls almost all the way out before snapping forward again, burying himself into the tight warmth of your pussy. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles, rocking back and forth. With every thrust, your lungs convulse. You desperately grip his forearm, but your fingers slip thanks to the water droplets that surround his skin, him letting out a sudden chuckle before pulling you towards his mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t think I’m gonna last long now either. You make me feel like a teenager again.” 

Throwing your arm back, you tug the damp locks and force your lips together. You lick hungrily into his mouth. Joel moans loudly and you swallow every little sound he makes, your cunt fluttering and clamping around his length. He pounds into you sloppily, no coordination, no calculation—just need. 

To be wanted. To be devoured. What a wonderful feeling it was.  

Joel pulls out with a grunt, you hear the slick sounds of his fist as he jerks himself over the curve of your spine. You shudder when you feel it. Warm spend trickling down your skin, mixing with the water. He spreads your ass cheeks and pushes them together with his cock between them, he grinds once—twice, before heaving and dropping his head between your shoulder blades. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but you hear no regret behind the apology. It makes you glad. 

“Don’t be,” you turn and pick up the shower head, holding it right over his shoulders, you wipe the remaining paint away. Your stomach growls in protest, your lips twitch into a crooked smile. “God, all that worked an appetite. I’m starving.” 

“Want me to cook you somethin’?” 

Spraying the water over his other shoulder, you meet his gaze. He’s so sweet like this. His hair wet, curling at the ends. His body finally relaxed. You can’t help yourself and quickly press your lips into the corner of his jaw. 

“I have a watermelon in the fridge, you can cut that up for me.” 

“‘Course, darlin’. Anythin’ for you.” 

Crickets chirp loudly. The wind pleasant, yet a bit too warm for your liking. You fan yourself with a hand as you lean back into the chair. Despite just taking a shower, you’re nearly dry. Summer is definitely not a good season for you. 

“Should I be offended you look so miserable right now?” Joel asks, sitting next to you. He bites into one of the watermelon slices and when a drop of sweet nectar escapes, he makes quick work of licking himself clean. You swallow, your insides pulsing. 

“No,” you sigh. “I just don’t like the heat very much.” 

“Well. . that might be a problem considering summer is basically here.” 

You groan and throw your head back, “Don’t remind me.” 

“Here,” he says, extending you a slice. “Eat.” 

You take the slice without objection, biting into the fleshy fruit. The cold juice of the watermelon feels good as it goes down your throat. You look over to the lawn, thanks to the heat most things have dried out. 

“I helped him a lot you know,” Joel says, his voice soft, as if afraid to spook you. “With the garden that is. He talked a lot about you.” 

“Did he now?” you muse, you chew the watermelon thoughtfully. Your eyes are glued to one of the butterflies in search of a flower. “I miss him.” 

“I know you do, sweetheart. I know. I wish I could ease your paint, but truthfully I have no idea how to do that.” 

“You do enough,” smiling, you turn to him and find that he’s already looking at you. “The silver lining is that I met you.” 

He parts his lips, eyes glossed over with emotion but before he can, both of you hear small steps approaching at the same time. 

“Oh, watermelon,” Sarah chirps, throwing her backpack to the floor. “Don’t mind if I do.” 

She takes a slice and sits down, eyes flitting between you and Joel. You try not to look at Joel then, your heart beating a bit too loudly for your liking. Sarah raises an eyebrow and locks her eyes with Joel, their expressions are similar when they’re about to wreak havoc. 

“What?” Joel snaps, angrily sinking his teeth into his watermelon, finishing it off. Both you and Sarah laugh, your heart feeling a bit lighter now. 

“Oh, nothin’,” Sarah rolls her tongue, mimicking her dad. “What have you two been up to?” 

“Your dad was helping me with the kitchen sink,” you answer quickly. “It’s been leaking all morning.” 

“If my dad is good at anything, it’s fixing stuff.” 

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Joel grumbles. 

“How was school?” you ask. 

Sarah’s shoulders fall a bit, but she quickly shakes it off and smiles, “It was good, nothing interesting happened.” 

You raise an eyebrow but don’t pry. Joel doesn’t seem to notice Sarah’s mood change. “We should better head off,” he says.

“But I’m still eating,” Sarah whines. “Can’t we stay a bit longer?” 

“We don’t wanna overstay our welcome.” 

You almost laugh at such an absurd thing. Him, overstaying his welcome? Never. But you also understand why he does it. Sarah is smart and by the looks she was giving you and him, she’s probably already suspicious. 

“You guys should take half of it,” you say, standing up. “I’m only one person anyway. If I eat this much watermelon I’ll end up growing one inside of me.” 

Both of them look at you deadpanned, you laugh, “You both have no humor!” 

Sarah turns to Joel, “Dad, I think you might wanna check if her water is laced with something.” 

“I think you’re right, baby girl,” Joel nods seriously. “There’s no other reason she would find that funny.” 

“If you guys keep that up I’m not giving you squat.” 

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” they say at the same time. 

You shake your head, snorting at the father and daughter duo. Both of them were ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. 

However, you can’t seem to stop smiling as you head inside to get them a container to put the slices into. 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller smut #stay in bed series #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #scheduled

[crazyunsexycool]

My little love

Happy Birthday Bucky!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fluff, HENRY BARNES!!!! he's the sweetest, Lottie being Lottie, a fake out, implied smut at the end

A/N: Alright here is another birthday for Bucky. Number 1 dad deserves all of the celebration!!!

For the first time since being freed from hydra’s hold, Bucky was looking forward to celebrating his birthday. He had a reason, well three to be exact, to want to celebrate. Bucky was truly happy for the first time in a long time. He had his dream girl and two of the sweetest kids anyone could have ever hoped for. 

On his birthday, Bucky woke up a bit later than usual. It didn’t matter because at least he would have a few minutes to cuddle with you but when he turned in bed you weren’t there. Still Bucky smiled as he thought that maybe Lottie and Henry would run in and spend some time hanging out with him but no. He sighs and gets up to get ready for the day. Out in the living room Bucky is met with you and Lottie but no Henry. Lottie hopped up and ran to her father and wished him a good morning. 

“Morning, Baby.” You look up at him from the book you were reading. 

“Morning, Sugar.” He leans down and gives you a quick kiss. 

“Do you have any plans today?” 

Bucky gave you a bit of a confused look but then shook his head. “Not really, only going to the gym for my normal workout and finishing some mission reports.” 

“Oh cool. I was thinking maybe we could go out to dinner with the kids.” 

“Yeah that sounds nice. Where’s Henry?” 

“He’s hanging out with Wanda. She was going to show him how to make some Sokovian dish.”

“Oh, ok.” Bucky says and looks around, slightly disappointed. Still he smiles and heads out the door to the gym.

Down at the gym Bucky is sparring with Sam since Steve is nowhere to be found. He was starting to feel a bit down since he was looking forward to celebrating. Part of him thought it would be weird if he mentioned the fact that it was his birthday considering that you knew and always went out of your way to do something special for him. Bucky pushed those thoughts out of his mind and focused on getting some work done. He couldn’t exactly be upset because he always said he didn’t like celebrating his birthday and maybe now everyone was finally doing as he asked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Bucky finally dragged himself back to the apartment he was surprised to see you all dressed up. You smiled up at him as you were entering the living room. 

“Hey babe, I laid out some clothes for you.” You say before giving Bucky a quick kiss. 

“Thanks, where are the kids?” 

“Well Henry is still with Wanda and Lottie insisted on having a ‘moobie night’ with Steve. I thought we could have a date night. What do you say?” 

Bucky was feeling more dejected as the day went on and not having his kids on his birthday was just the last straw. But he also didn’t want to force them to be with him if they didn’t want to.

“I was kind of looking forward to spending time with all four of us.” He says quietly. 

“Oh babe, I know but come on it’ll be fun.” 

He looks at your pout and big doe eyes and he smiles. “Ok, I’ll go get ready.” 

~~~~~~~~~

In the car Bucky was a bit distant. He had gone from being excited about his birthday to wishing the day would end already. You turned your head and smiled at him. To Bucky you seemed oblivious to his foul mood and somehow that hurt him more than you not even wishing him a happy birthday. 

When you finally got to what ended up being a diner Bucky was ready to just turn the car around and go home. You got out of the car and waited for him so reluctantly Bucky got out and took your hand. He was confused when you walked up to the diner and it was completely empty. 

“Is this the diner we brought the kids to?” He asks as he looks at the empty diner through the windows.

“Yeah, their first ever diner experience.” You smile.

“I think it’s closed. There’s no one here.”

“Well let’s just check, if it is we can go somewhere else.” 

You walk in and sure enough the only people there are the cooks and a few servers milling about. Bucky walks in right after you. He throws a suspicious glance around the place before he hears the door lock. He turns around but doesn’t see anyone by the door. When Bucky turns around the room is filled with the team and your family. 

“Surprise!” Everyone yells and Bucky is standing in stunned silence. 

“Happy biwthday dada.” Lottie runs up to him with her arms stretched out. She latches on to one of his legs. 

“Happy birthday daddy.” Henry says as he hugs Bucky around his midsection. 

Bucky was completely shocked and confused but he hugged his kids anyway. When you walked up to him he could see the guilt on your face. 

“I’m so sorry. The kids wanted to surprise you and swore me to secrecy.” 

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, the disappointment he was feeling slid off him like water off a duck’s back. He pulled you in by your waist and you leaned up to kiss him.

“Happy birthday baby.” You said against his lips before kissing him again. 

“Get a room.” 

“Eewwww.” 

“Gross.” 

The team teased the two of you before they all started to wish him a happy birthday. Your family was also there to congratulate him before everyone settled down at the long table the diner staff had rearranged. The servers begin to take down everyone’s orders and the group is left to talk amongst themselves. 

“How long have you been planning this?” Bucky turned to look at you. You had your arm draped across the back of his chair and the other tucked under your chin while it rested against his shoulder. 

“The party I wanted to plan? About three weeks. Then two weeks ago the kids came to me while you were on a mission and told me their plan. They were so cute, they even drew what they wanted the decorations to look like. I saved the drawing for you to keep.” 

Bucky smiled, he really did have the best kids ever. 

“The whole not acknowledging your birthday was Henry’s idea. He thought you’d be even more surprised if you thought we all forgot.” 

“Oh so he’s who I have to put in timeout.” 

“What?” Henry’s head whipped around so fast. His eyebrows shot up in surprise but he wanted to giggle.

“No gibe bubba timeout dada. Is not nice.” 

“You can glare at me all you want but I’ll put you in time out too, little lady.” Bucky quipped and Lottie grinned before she giggled. 

“Dada no gibe you timeout bubba.” She announced as if the matter had been decided. 

“I’m just kidding bubs. You did something really nice for me and it means so much, so thank you, both of you.” 

The outing went on as planned. The group ate and talked and laughed. A jukebox in the corner played some of Bucky’s favorites. 

When it came time for dessert Steve helped Henry bring in the cake from the kitchen. Everyone stood around the smaller table with Bucky at the center. The cake was large and it was obviously homemade. It had a few layers to it so it was tall. The buttercream frosting was a deep blue. The other decorations on it were gold, including the Happy Birthday in a childlike scribble at the top of the cake. There was even a small goat figurine perched at the top. 

While Bucky held Lottie, Henry pulled up a chair and stood on it so that he could see everyone better. 

“Um before we sing happy birthday, I’d like to say something.” Henry speaks up. When everyone’s attention is on him, he clears his throat. “Well um, thank you everybody that could come and celebrate daddy’s birthday.” Henry says and turns to look at Bucky. “You are the best daddy in the world.” 

“The bestest one.” Lottie adds. 

 There’s a few chuckles from the group. 

“You are always nice and read us bedtime stories.”

“Gibe kisses when I habe an owie.” 

Bucky, although he tried his hardest, let a few tears slip. 

“You love us, and we love you.” Henry smiles at his father. Bucky hugs him with one arm while he keeps Lottie in his other arm. 

“Thank you, I love both of you so much.” 

Once he pulls back everyone begins to sing happy birthday. Bucky blushes a bit at the attention but can’t help but beam while he holds his kids and feels your hand on his back. When he turns his head to look at you he finds that your eyes are already on him. Pure love, admiration and happiness shine in them. When the singing was done and everyone wished him a happy birthday the cake was cut. 

“This is really good.” Bucky says around a fork full of cake and the fresh fruit filling. “Where did you get this?” He asks you.

“Oh I didn’t buy it.” 

“No?” 

“Nope. Henry made it with Wanda’s help.”

“I only really helped with the prep work and the oven. He even made the frosting.” Wanda adds. “Henry’s a natural in the kitchen.” 

“Baby added the goat though.” 

“Yeah, goat is so cute.” 

“What I don’t understand is Steve being completely absent all day.” 

You look at bucky and giggle. “Charlotte saw him telling you about the party so she took it into her own hands to keep him occupied until it was time to leave for the diner.”

“He was always the worst at lying.”

You all share a laugh as you continue to enjoy the dessert made by Henry. A few presents are opened before everyone calls it a night. 

~~~~~~~~~

When you finally make it back to the tower, the kids beg Bucky to read them a bedtime story which he does happily. While he does that you get ready for bed. When Bucky walks into your shared room he stops in his tracks. 

“Happy birthday Bucky.” You smile as Bucky’s eyes rake over your lingerie clad body. 

“You have one more present to unwrap.” 

Bucky licks his lips before moving towards you. He hovers over you and you can’t help but laugh at how giddy he looked. You love seeing him happy. 

“Best birthday ever.” He murmurs before he connects his lips with yours. 

Permanent taglist:

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10 

@nalny5 

@Sturchling 

@angywritesstuff 

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions 

@almosttoopizza 

@littleseasiren 

@pono-pura-vida

@talesofadragon

@midnightramyeoncravings

@bunnygirlwriter876

@pandaxnieenke

@kandis-mom

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@braveclementine

Series taglist

@buckystevelove

 @vicmc624 

@just-someone11

@sjsmith56 

@emily-roberts 

@spencerriedisagorgman

@superduckmilkshake 

@samfreakingwinchester

@lofaewrites

@enchantedbarnes

@callsign-athena

@broadwaybabe18

@saranghaey 

@viperchick47

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

@da-pimp-river-niall

@ozwriterchick

@jenn-f

@rebel-soldat

@therealwritersblog

@alyroseking

@samlworld

@witchybabel

@capswife

@oceaniamadness

@queenie32

@buckybarnessimpp

@multifandom-girlie

@joliver1328

@noonespecial90

@mega-kittyglitter-1

@pumpkin-babydoll

@imaginexred

@olipiaa

#my little love extra #Bucky Barnes x reader #dad!bucky barnes x mom!reader #dad!Bucky Barnes #girl dad!Bucky Barnes #boy dad!Bucky Barnes #Henry Barnes #Charlotte Barnes #happy birthday Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes #bucky x reader

[allysunny]

hiii! first of all, congratulations for 200 followers! im so proud heheee! and second, i just read your nanami's fic (patching up wounds) AND IT'S SO GOOD 😭😭🤍🤍 WE LOVE FLUFFY FLUFF NANAMI

and third! i wanna make a request hehee

15+28 with a make up prompt with nanami 🤍

"Is it someone else?" + "Do you trust me?" / "Always" + Make up x Nanami Kento

Words: 4.3k words

Warnings: Angst, mentions of infidelity, arguments, some angst? Some suggestive themes, but nothing downright explicit, I would say? I'm so bad at tagging omg if I missed anything!

A/N: Hey everyone! Here's another one of the entries for my 200 Follower Event!!! I missed writing for my man Nanami sm, I love this man so bad... <3<3<3

Anyway, I would ALSO like to say that my Event is now CLOSED!!!! I'll of course finish the requests I have in my inbox, but regarding this event in particular, I won't be taking any more! I feel like if they keep on coming, I'm going to panic and not be able to finish any of them.

Thank you for everyone that participated and sent in their great ideas; they're all genius and I am having a blast writing them. Thank you so much!

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this little piece!!!

You'd long stopped waiting for Nanami to come home

Asking him to please come at a more decent hour, and letting you know whether he was going to make it to dinner or not proved to be useless, as he often did not check his phone, and even when he did, he'd give you one-worded replies that did nothing to soothe your nerves. You loved your husband; knew him inside out and loved everything about it. But sometimes, these little quirks managed to annoy you.

Were you being selfish? All you wanted was for your husband to come home to you, have some dinner, ask how your day was, maybe make love to you once or twice. But as days turned into weeks, it seemed like none of those were a possibility.

Dinnertime together became "Sorry. Won't be able to make it in time. Don't wait for me." texts, casual conversations about your jobs became "I had an exhausting day. Can we not talk about it?", asking your husband for a bit of affection became "I'm really tired. Some other day." It was starting to become unbearable.

You knew Nanami to be a hard worker. He was a very thorough man, efficient and determined, and he always gave 101% of himself in whatever he did. But lately, it seemed that he was lacking in terms of your own life. It hurt to eat by yourself, it hurt to read or watch TV on an empty couch, it hurt to go to sleep in cold sheets.

You'd tried to talk to him once, ask what was happening. Not only did he brush it off as him simply being busy, but he also failed to provide you with information as what to what kept him busy. He was never a man of many words. You knew this. But it was one thing for him to be quiet and reserved. It was another to simply refuse to tell you certain information about what he did for a living.

All he'd told you was that he worked at a high school, as a teacher. Taught something about finance. On one hand it made sense. All the books and certificates inside his study were clearly not for show, and he'd always been extremely intelligent. But on the other hand, it was weird. Nanami never expressed much interest in teaching. Hell, you didn't even know he had the qualifications for teaching. But apparently, he did, and that's what he wanted to do from now on.

He'd told you it was a high paying job. He wouldn't be as miserable as he was as a salaryman, and you two would be able to take that lovely vacation in Malaysia, the one you'd been envisioning for years now. But how did a high-school teacher earn so much? And why did he have to spend so much time at his school?

The sound of the door broke you out of your thoughts, and you looked behind you from your place in the couch. Your husband walked home, hair slightly dishevelled and jacket hung on his arm.

"I'm home," he said softly, before taking off his shoes and hanging his coat.

"Hey," Your feet instantly carried you from the couch to him, as if second nature. Your feet would carry you anywhere Nanami Kento was, that is how deep your love for him run. Because where was home, if not by his side?

"I stopped by the bakery on my way home," he mumbled, placing a white paper bag on top of the couch. "Brought you those croissants you like."

There he was, your sweet husband, remembering you even when you worried and worried. Here you were, chewing the inside of your cheek out of sheer preoccupation, and he was out there buying you croissants. You felt a little bit guilty.

"Thank you," you smiled, returning to his side, and continuing to speak, "How was work?" It was when he flexed visibly in front of you when you moved to undo the knot of his tie that you had realised, you'd asked the wrong question.

"Tiring. I don't want to talk about it," he answered, moving past you towards the kitchen.

The guilt you'd briefly felt earlier washed away, if only a little bit.

Dinner was uneventful, as usual. It was nice having his company, but it was almost as if it didn't even make any difference. He was quiet, more so than usual. You tried getting a few conversations going, talking about your day, gossiping about your coworkers, but only received one-syllabic words, or soft hums of acknowledgement. You tried to get him to talk about his work, but he wouldn't budge. You asked about his students, and he shut you down. It seemed as if there was a barrier coming up between you and your husband, and you didn't like it one bit.

He offered to do the dishes for you while you decided to go take a quick shower, and when you came back, you found him sitting on top of your bed, quietly reading a book.

"Aren't you heading to bed?" you asked.

"I came home late enough the other days. I'd like to enjoy a book for a while before I go to sleep. Is that so wrong?" There was a slight harshness to his voice that you didn't like, and you became defensive.

"I'm sorry – it's just, you've been so tired every other day, I thought you'd maybe like to get some actual sleep."

Nanami must've realised the tone he'd taken with you and took a deep breath to calm himself.

"I appreciate your concern, honey, I really do. But I'd like to relax for a bit. I promise to get enough sleep."

You nodded and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV in front of you to zap through a few channels. When you couldn't find anything that amused you, you picked up your phone and scrolled through social media, internally sighing at the photos of your friends and their respective partners on their own private vacations. It reminded you of Malaysia, and it made you frown just a bit. You had half a mind to ask your husband, but there was no way you wanted him to think you were annoying, so just kept quiet.

After a while, he put down his book and walked towards the bathroom to get ready for bed. You would've done the same, but he closed the door behind you, causing you to wait for him. When you were able to brush your teeth and go through your whole skin care routine, you returned to bed.

Nanami was already lying down, facing away from you.

It hurt. A lot. You used to sleep pressed close against each other. He would hug you close to him, and you'd fall asleep to the beating of his heart. It nearly made you cry, until you realised you were made of tougher things, and would do your best not to let it get to you.

You laid down, pulled the covers over your body, and looked at your husband's back, admiring the broad planes of his shoulders and the pale skin you so adored to touch and kiss. It had been a while since you'd done both.

You don't know what made you do this. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe you just missed your husband too much and seeing him like this before you awakened memories in you that had your cheeks heat up and your thighs clench instinctively. But something made you press against Nanami's back and snake your arms around his chest.

He all but whispered your name, and you couldn't tell if in exasperation, or desire.

"I miss you so much," you mumbled, pulling your body up to sit beside him, and leaning down to press kisses against his neck and jaw. You felt him tense, and something inside you churned. Why was he tensing before you? Before your touch? He was your husband. Were you so unfamiliar that he would flinch away from you?

"I'm tired," he sighed, rolling so his body would stay even more out of reach.

"We don't have to do much;" you mumbled, scooting closer to him. Your hands carded through his hair. "I just miss you. Miss your touch, miss your body," each word was punctuated with a kiss on his jaw, and you heard Nanami sight. "Please, Kento. Don't you miss me?"

Why you kept going, you had no idea. He had arrived home extremely tired and had not given you any signal that he wanted this. In fact, the only thing he'd demonstrated was wanting distance, peace, and quiet.

But still, you kept going, kissing his soft skin, and playing with his golden hair.

"I have to get up early in the morning," he said, but you could tell his voice was breathy, husky. You gloated internally, happy over the fact you still had this effect over him.

"We can be quick. Can't we?" He could. You could. Nanami liked to take his time with you – and lord knew how much you liked it when he did. But you also knew he was efficient. You'd been pressed against several walls inside bathrooms or broom closets, mouth against the column of his neck to stifle your broken moans to know it. "Please? You know I'll make you feel good."

Nanami remained quiet for a few seconds, and for a while you thought he might say yes. Then, he promptly moved away from you, his voice cold as ice.

"I'm tired. I need to get up early tomorrow, I don't have the time for this."

"But Kento – "

"Can't you listen to a word I say? You've been going against my wishes all night." This time, he turned to face you, a hint of cruelty in his eyes, something that made you tear up immediately. "All I want is to get some rest. I can't do that with you all over me."

You said nothing, staring at the man before you. Is this how he felt? That you were all over him? That you'd been going against all his wishes? It's not your fault you wanted to talk to your husband, to be worthy of some of his time.

"I just wanted to spend some time with you," you replied, brows furrowing in confusion. "What's so wrong with that?"

"I've told you before, I'm tired. I got home late today; all I want to do is just get some sleep – "

"You're always getting home late now!" You raised your voice, sitting up completely and crossing your arms over your chest. "And you're always tired. What am I supposed to do?"

"Not disturb me, when I'm working so hard for us."

"At a high school? I love you, Kento, and I love how dedicated you are to your work, but what's a high school got that makes you get home at nearly 11PM?"

"It's complicated," he muttered, looking away.

"Is it now?"

"Yes! It is! And I wish you would just let it go and let me sleep. God knows I need it."

That's when you ask the question that's been plaguing your mind for a while, the one you'd never been brave enough to ask, the one you never wanted to ask, afraid of what the answer could be.

"Is it someone else?"

You could've asked anything, and yet Nanami would've never guessed what you'd just said. Why would you ever think such a thing? Did he ever give you reasons to think he loved anyone else other than you?

It seemed almost silly to ask, because as soon as he thought the question over in his head, he realised just how much he'd been neglecting you.

"It's not," he reassured you, sitting up and turning to face you, now sitting up as well. He hadn't realised you had started to cry, only noticing it when he saw small tears running down your lovely face. He'd made you cry. He had been an asshole and now you were crying because of him. Just great.

"I'm just working hard. For you. For us."

"Don't give me any of that bullshit. No high school teacher has to stay inside the school until close to 11PM. You can't even make it do dinner most nights. Just what the hell are you doing in there? Is it someone else, Kento? Fuck – just tell me if it is because I can't take this any longer! If you’re just staying with me because you can’t be bothered to get a divorce, then I don't want it!" You said, crossing your arms over your chest. You couldn't control the tears that had escaped, and once they started to fall, you feared they wouldn't stop.

"It's not someone else!" He said, running a hand through his blonde locks. "Look, darling, I only love you – "

"Then tell me why the hell you stay in there until so late."

Nanami was stunned into silence.

You'd never really asked about his job. He had told you he was a teacher and made up some believable enough financial-like class. You'd believed it, and he thought it would be the end of it. But Nanami should've known better. You were curious, and worried about him a lot. It was very endearing, and he loved you even more for it, but sometimes – like now – it could be a tad impractical.

"I'm working," he whispered.

"Bullshit. Again, with that stupid excuse – I don't believe you, Kento." It was the first time in 6 years together that you had ever doubted your husband. And it tasted foul. Doubt tasted foul, taster bitter in your mouth, and you hated how quickly its taste spread over everything you said. "Just tell me the truth already!"

"I'm telling you the truth, I'm a teacher, and I'm working!"

"I know high school teachers, Kento!" you yelled, "And they might bring some work home, but they're usually there in time for dinner. Hell, every teacher I've spoken to gets home much earlier than you, and everyone has said that your working hours are unusual. And there's of course, the matter of the bruises."

Some big, some small, but it has become more and more usual for your husband to arrive home injured. At first it was nothing. A paper cut. An accident while cutting bread. He slipped. He tripped. He fell. The excuses started getting weirder and weirder, and you’d become suspicious as hell.

"They're just accidents honey, I told you – " Nanami's words do little to soothe you, instead enraging you even further.

"No, they're not! You've never been clumsy Kento. You've never tripped, never fallen, never had accidents with knives! Just tell me what's going on? Have you gotten yourself into something dangerous, Ken? What is it?"

Nanami looked at you, at your eyes wide with worry and heartbreak, at your pouting lips and cheeks wet from the small pearly tears. And as much as the sight broke him inside, this wasn't the time nor the place to try and talk sense into you. He couldn't tell you about what he did, couldn't introduce you to the world of Sorcery and Curses. He'd only endanger you, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Nanami sighed.

"I think you should need some sleep. We should both get some sleep and continue this conversation in the morning."

That was the last straw. How dare he dismiss this conversation, as if it weren't something important and worthy of your attention? As if your whole relationship, your trust, your life wasn't on the line?

It was too much.

"Out." You uttered, pointing at the door.

"What?"

"Out." You repeated. "How am I supposed to share a bed, let alone a life with a man I don't trust, with a man who insists on lying to my face like this? I can't sleep on the same bed as you."

"Honey, you can't be serious – " Nanami pleaded, but you were intent on interrupting him.

"Out! I won't share a bed with you until I trust the man sleeping beside me!"

With this, Nanami nodded silently. He got up and promptly left the room, leaving his pillow where it was on the bed next to you. He knew you – you might be upset, but you still loved him, and you couldn't fall asleep with some sort of presence from him next to you. He'd found you once or twice hugging his pillow as you slept, and it made him smile. Ever since, he’d sprayed it once or twice with his cologne or aftershave, to see which scents made you relax more. It was corny and lame as hell, yes. But it helped you a lot, and he was glad for it.

Once the door of your bedroom was closed, you simply let go.

Loud sobs erupted from you, and you hid below the blankets, hoping the small fortress of cloudy fluffiness would save you from all the anguish you were feeling, and wishing sleep would take you soon.

With Nanami's pillow hugged close to your body, you found that it did, and you were out in just a matter of minutes.

The following morning, you woke up to the smell of pancakes and orange juice.

Weird, you thought, who the hell is making pancakes?

You got up and ready, going through with your usual morning routine before putting on some clothes and walking downstairs. You’re not used to having company on your day off, let alone wake up to some delicious as hell smells.

When you walk into the kitchen, you spot your husband in front of the stove, a spatula in his hands, whistling some tune he seems to be hearing from the radio.

It was as if last night hadn’t happened at all, as if instead of refusing your touch and walking away, he’d turned to you and reciprocated everything.

Nanami turned to you, having heard the soft thud of your fuzzy slippers against the floor. He was wearing his “Kiss the Cook” apron, the one you’d jokingly gifted to him a few years ago and hadn’t seen him wear in a long time. If you weren’t so upset at him, it’d have made you smile.

“Good morning,” he said, placing a plate of pancakes and a glass of orange juice on your usual spot at the table.

“What’s all of this?” you asked, hesitant to sit down. Was he going to pretend it was all okay?

“An apology.”

You stopped in your tracks. An apology. Huh.

“I behaved terribly last night,” Nanami sighed and placed the rest of the pancakes on a separate plate, also putting it on top of the table. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded and sat down, taking a sip from the orange juice. It was great, and it took you every bone in your body not to jump on your husband and shower him with kisses. It’d been a good while ever since he prepared you breakfast like this.

Well, since he’d gone out of his way to do something nice and apologise, you wouldn’t play games. You and Nanami had long gone past that stage.

“Surely, you understand everything I said came from a place of worry,” you told him, grabbing your favourite jam (that Nanami had so attentively put in your reach) and smearing it all over a pancake. Your voice was calm. Not too sweet; firm, but still somewhat soft. “You’re barely home nowadays, Kento. And I miss you. You come home with scratches on your face and bruises on your arms. What am I supposed to think?”

Your husband sat before you and grabbed a glass of orange juice himself, before starting to speak.

“I understand. And I can guarantee that everything I have told you is the truth.”

You stopped your arm, fork up in the air.

“The truth? Please, Kento, I’m tired of that.”

“I’m serious.”

He shifted in his seat and sighed.

“Look – I didn’t lie to you when I told you about my new job.”

“Hm. But?” you asked, taking the forkful of pancake to your lips.

“But – “ he sighed again, “I wasn’t entirely honest either.”

“I see.”

“The truth is, I can’t tell you all about my job.”

You raised an eyebrow. Is this how he was planning to get on your good graces again?

“I’m a teacher, yes. But my job, it’s… It’s hard to explain. It’s dangerous. And I don’t want you tangled up in that world.”

Your stomach twisted in an unpleasant knot. Dangerous?

“Kento, did you get involved with the wrong people?” you whispered. Surely, that couldn’t be true. The sweet man before you would never dabble in those nasty, sketchy business you always saw out there, the kind that would have him trapped for life and made a slave to their every whim.

“No! No – Christ, no,” he was quick to reassure you, reaching out to hold your free hand. You decided not to move it, allowing the warmth of his palm to spread through yours. “It’s not like that. I did not get involved with any kind of bad people. I promise you that. But my job is dangerous, and I would be putting you in danger if I told you all about it. But I can’t stand keeping you in the dark like this – it hurts to see you suffer.”

Now you were getting scared. What the hell had your husband gotten himself into? A dangerous job? That would put you in danger? What was he talking about?

“Fuck, it’s,” he released your hand, and you immediately missed his touch. Nanami rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and shook his head. “It’s so complicated. I don’t even know where to start. I don’t even know if you’ll believe me. I just… I just need some time. Please. If you’ll have me, if you love me. I just need some time, and I’ll explain everything to you.”

“Is this what you want to do?” You asked

“Yes.”

“And you’re saying it’s dangerous.”

“It is.”

“Is that why you’re injured sometimes?”

“Yes. But I promise you – everything is okay. Everything is fine. I promise you darling – it’s okay.”

You looked at him, and he looked at you.

And there was something in his eyes that made you understand.

Not what he did, or how he did it or when.

But that he was having a tough time explaining it to you. You could see his internal dilemma clearly, and it made you ache a bit, because you saw just how conflicted he was. You loved reading. Books of all kinds. Long, short. Fun or emotional. But even after all these years of reading page after page after page, it wasn’t books you’d learned to read best.

It was your husband.

He reached out to hold your hand again. It was warm and it provided comfort. So much comfort – something you needed more than anything right now.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, speaking to you in that barely-a-whisper voice of his, the one he uses to murmur soft words against the skin of your shoulder, the one he used to say his vows to you on your wedding night, away from prying eyes, the one he’d used when he first told you he loved you.

You knew all of Nanami’s voices. Knew his monotone one, directed at coworkers and bosses; knew his warmer one, the one he used when thanking shop clerks, baristas, waiters, workers; knew his joyful one, the one you got to hear every once in a while, deep and rich and warm, accompanied by one or two chuckles if you were lucky; knew his husky one, saved especially for late-night lovemaking or mind-blowing quickies; knew his sugary sweet one, saved only for you.

And of all the voices you knew your husband to have, this was the one you trusted the most. It meant he was serious. It meant he wasn’t lying, it meant he was offering you the whole truth; he’d offer you the whole world with this voice, and you would take it.

“Always,” you found yourself replying, turning your palm, and giving his a soft squeeze.

Because it was true. You’d follow Nanami Kento to the ends of the earth. You trusted him, more than anything. And if he told you he had a hard time telling you, then you would believe him. If he told you everything was going to be fine, you would believe him. You trusted him to tell you what this dangerous job of his was and were ready to support him until the end.

You'd long stopped waiting for Nanami to come home.

But you’d start doing it. Again, and again, and again.

You would wait for him until he came home.

Whether he came home early or late, it didn’t matter. You would know he had been working. You’d know he hadn’t broken the promise he made to you the day you got married and would not lie with someone else. You’d patch up his wounds and kiss his injuries and shower him with love – so, so much love.

All that would matter, is that he would come home to you, and you wouldn’t worry.

Because you loved him, and he loved you.

And as long as you held on to that promise, you knew everything would be okay.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys enjoyed this little piece! I love Nanami so much, he'd be the most understanding husband, and a great communicator okay.

Once again, I ask for your patience, as uni is kicking my ass real bad, and it's taking me longer to write stuff. I fear it's only going to get worse, and I may have to take a break.

But I'll keep trying until then!

I hope you're all doing well, and have an amazing day!!! <3

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #nanami drabbles #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami headcanons #nanami kento fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfiction #nanami kento #kento nanami

[ereardon]

The Backup || Jake Seresin x Reader [teaser]

“That can’t happen again.”  

“It will.” 

You sighed loudly, flinging yourself backward onto the mound of pillows, knowing that he was right. Jake rolled off the bed, tugging on his boxers. 

He grinned. “Any more bad dates planned for this week?” 

“A blind date on Friday,” you replied, rolling onto your side to face him as Jake got dressed. “Someone that a secretary from my work knows.” 

“A blind date, really?” 

Ignoring his comment, you replied, “What about you?” 

“No plans.” 

“Which means that you’ll have a date lined up by Thursday.” 

“And it’ll be a flop and we’ll be right back here on Friday night.” 

“I’m serious Jake, this can’t keep happening.” You stepped out of bed, slipping on a silk robe and tying it tightly around your middle. “We can’t be each other’s fallback every time a date goes sideways.” 

“So end it,” he said. “You’re the one that called me tonight, remember?” 

“I’m weak,” you replied and Jake chuckled. 

“You’re a lot of things, sweetheart, but weak isn’t one of them. Except when it comes to those mall pretzels.” 

“Well those are objectively the best.” 

“True.” 

You watched as Jake finished getting dressed, tying his shoelaces, slipping on his jacket. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Always.” 

“Are we fucking each other up by doing this? Like are we the reason that every single date goes bad? Because I feel like lately they all end up sucking.” 

“The dates are bad because our options are bad,” Jake replied. “We’re not cursed, Stinky. That’s just how these things go. You date and date and just when you think you want to fling yourself over the Golden Gate you find one person who suddenly makes things work. And then you live your weird Hallmark lives together forever.” 

“You, Jake Seresin, believe that?” You raised your eyebrows. “What happened to the guy I met three years ago who didn’t realize that girls don’t want to come over to your fucking Tenderloin apartment and see a bed without a bed frame?” 

“I loved that apartment and it was dirt cheap,” Jake argued. “Besides, you’re not much better. Remember when you thought guys actually liked girls who wore Birkenstocks?” 

“They’re comfortable!” 

“You looked like you were going to yell at me for not using a reusable jar to grind my own peanut butter at Whole Foods for twenty dollars an ounce. It was heinous. Also they smelled like ass.” Hence, the nickname that you hoped would die but never did. 

“You’re just saying that because your type is girls who stomp around in size five Aquazzura heels on Market Street and have their daddy’s Amex card numbers memorized.” 

“Better than your type. Mr. Couch potato, looks practically homeless and asks you to split the check at dinner because he’s too cheap to pay for your baked potato.” 

“That happened twice, that’s not a pattern.” 

“More than once is concerning.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky you’re good in bed because I can’t fucking stand you.” 

“Stop stroking my ego.” 

“Goodnight, Seresin,” you said, walking toward the kitchen, your back to him. “Slam the door on your face on your way out, won’t you?” 

“Night Stinky,” he said and you could hear his footsteps trailing down the hallway. “See you next weekend!” 

You grabbed a half-empty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge door and slammed it, a little too hard, the sound of bottles inside rattling as you unscrewed the cap and chugged directly from the bottle. It was acidic, probably too old, but it would do the trick. Anything to block out Jake’s words that haunted the quiet air of your apartment even after he was gone.

He was right. Somehow the two of you always fell into bed together. The dates always went belly up. Hinge, Raya, Bumble, League. No app worked. No blind set up. It was like clockwork: you’d spend an hour getting ready for a date, and within five minutes you’d know that at the end you’d call an Uber to take you to Jake’s. Or vice versa: he’d show up at your door with a pocketful of condoms and a smirk. It always ended the same way. For almost a year, you and Jake had been filling the gaps of your dating life with each other. Friends with benefits. No strings. 

And, of course, you made a point to keep it from the friend group. Coyote would throw an absolute fit if he found out. 

[Note: Special shoutout to @clancycucumber230 for the idea!]

#jake hangman fic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun imagine #jake hangman x you #jake seresin au #jake hangman imagine #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x reader #top gun x you #top gun x reader

[christinebloodwrittings]

I ran into this little darling who wanted this as a request, and I just couldn't help myself hehe, my Hobie Brown brainrot is huge xD

So I hope you enjoy it, I suck at writing his accent so, I'm sorry in advance hehe, and also Y/n is always the victim so let's shake things up a bit.

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, unwanted drug, p in v, oral, cursing, a very drugged Hobie.

Words: 2530

Summary: Everything was going great at the concert until he went against a very dangerous perfume.

You've never felt comfortable or safe among so many people, especially in a space as small as the bars where he usually plays. But there you were, supporting him as always.

At some point in the evening, thirst had invaded you, so you asked the bartender for some water or soda, who gladly served it to you and so far so good.

"Hey beautiful, how was it?" Hobie had pushed his way through the crowd and groupies to the chair where you'd cornered to watch him play. "Loud and protestant, perfect" with emotion he hugged you, pressing your whole body against his chest, his chin resting on your head.

"I'm goin' to go to the back, store some things with the band, I'll be back to pick you up in a bit, 'kay?" Despite the fact that nothing between you and Hobie was formalized, there was a lot of affection and consideration towards the other, however he always presented you as his friend.

And how much it hurt

He always came to your rescue when some jerk made a move on you, but after that you were just his friend, and he did it because he had your back, but nothing more.

That was really getting old.

Hobie made his way through the fans again, when a girl dressed in leather and a mini stopped him, one of her hands took his face, the other grabbed the back of his neck to force him to bend him down to kiss him, but he resisted, separated from the girl's hands with a push, and he moved away fast.

After managing to get past the stage, he tripped on his feet, his mind was all over the place and his spider-sense told him something was awfully wrong. A cold feeling caught on his neck, panic crawled up his spine, he put his fingers to the back of his neck, scooping up some of a watery, clear liquid, it had a nice smell so he just assumed it was the girl's cologne.

He was in denial, so he just wanted to think there was a raid outside and he´ll have to take you round the back so you wouldn't be hurt by mistake. He didn't exactly convinced himself but it was enough to get him a bit calmed through the whole packing the band stuff up.

Right at the end, when he was picking his makeup supplies off, his sense froze him up and made him look up, in the mirror he caught on the sight of the girl that had tried to make a move on him.

The fans were leaving, soon the place was empty, Hobie was taking a lot of time more than usual, thus why you began to worry and why you went to the dressing room to find him.

That was the moment when you saw his panic eyes and the girl attempting to get her tongue down her throat. "Get the fuck away from him, bitch!" you pulled her hair and punched her on the gut to get her out of movements.

"You're my savior" he put his arm around you, being that the only way he could make a decent step, "Get out of the way whore, it will last long after I'm finished with him, then you can get your way with him" she stood up hardly, but didn't approached further, since you got out a taser, "You know, I bet no one will miss you if I just shock your senses into oblivion and toss your bitch body into the garbage" she opened her eyes to your lashing and stood there.

With a few extra help from members of the band, they managed to get him to your place in one piece, you weren't going to let him go off alone in that state.

That's when you understood, she drugged him somehow. "It's okay, Hobs, let's get you in the shower" cold water seemed to be the less weird way to handle his condition.

His hand found yours, pulling by it you hit his chest, looking up you found his face all blushed and sweaty, "It's okay, it will wear itself off, just stay" you cupped his face with your free hand, he leaned over your touch with his eyes closed, "Please?" His voice was so smooth and whiny, never in your life have you seen him like that.

"I'll stay, let's get you into something more comfortable ok?" He nodded, lazily getting out of his leather jacket and vest, leaving you to slip away his shirt, "Woah baby, if ya' wanted to get me naked, you should've asked" he had a shit eating grin, ear to ear, "Shut up, you're out of your senses" you folded the shirt lazily and left it on a chair he has discarded on a corner, so did his pants and socks, it seemed to you that removing his underwear was going a little too far, so you ignored them.

You tried to guide him to the bathroom, but he just wouldn't move from the bed, "C'mon Hobs, let's go" he refused with a whine, so you leave him there to go fill up the tub in the meantime.

You figured he would be in a different disposition when you returned to the room. A couple of minutes went by, *he probably passed out asleep* you hoped, but as soon as you opened the door of the bathroom, the sound of his moans filled your ears.

"Ah~ Y/N~♡" you couldn't believe what was happening. Taking a quick peek at him you noticed his boxers were discarded somewhere in the room, and he was stroking himself, his rather large self.

And moaning your name, *Oh God, please tell me this is a test! * heat was crawling up from your legs to your face, his moans were incredibly sexy and erotic, that was going to be well fit material for a lot of nights in the future.

"Y/n please, I need you, pretty please darling~♡" He sounded so desperate. You stepped outside the bathroom, and as soon as his eyes caught sight of you, a loving smile was painted on his face.

"I'm in a tight conundrum" he fought with his own tongue to word that out coherently, but you understood, "I feel like I'm taking advantage of you" He shook his head, making grab gestures with his hands.

As soon as you were in within his reach, he pulled you into his lap, emitting a hiss when your pelvis brushed his hard dick. "Please, I need you" He peppered kisses under your jaw and cheek, every contact on his lips and his piercing made you shiver.

His hands found the hem of your shirt, toyed with it for a second before looking up into your eyes for permission, after your embarrassed nod, he pulled it off, carelessly taking your bra as well and throwing both items away.

He started by nibbling at your collarbone, leaving small red marks along his way up to your neck. "I've wanted to do this for a long time" He panted, biting softly at your earlobe making you shift on his lap.

"You're so beautiful, so sweet, so lovely, you're always there for me" he said before kissing you, taking full control of your mouth. His hand circled your waist and the other held your neck in place, making you melt into the kiss. He then tilted his head back a bit, taking in the way you looked.

The he pulled up your shirt, he was clumsy while at it, so you finished for him, the bra following it into the darkness of a corner. The festival of kisses and bites started from your neck to every inch of your collarbone, working his way down to capture a nipple in between his lips.

His hands rocked your hips against his bulge, making his voice sing with moans and sighs, calling your name.

"I need you to say it"

"What?"

"I love you too much, say I can do this"

"Do it Hobie"

He released you, reluctantly. You tried to put yourself in a comfortable position, so you got rid of your jeans, his eyes followed each of your movements, even more so when you stood next to him.

"Where do you want me?" He didn't think twice, he pulled you by the waist to accommodate you, with his muscular body on top of yours. It was kind of silly, saying that, but with the few sexual experiences you'd had, none of them 100 percent complete, you really didn't know what to say or do. He, even in his drugged and frenzied state, noticed your shivering hands and how much you avoided looking into his eyes.

"I wish I could make it slow and special for you, but I don't feel like myself" you agreed, it's what you could do, the truth, you were uncomfortable because of the situation, the heat, not that any of those factors made you forget to have a condom nearby.

As he sensually kissed your neck, his fingers worked to open you up, slow and steady movements, his thumb brushing against your clit from time to time. Your senses were being attacked simultaneously, his teeth and his mouth sucking at the skin of your neck, and his fingers caressing your G-spot with the dexterity of a guitar player. Your back arched against his torso, an opportunity he took to hold your waist with his arm and lead you to sit on his lap, his hand still pleasing.

"Hobs, I need you" you whined, he smiled, mouth still latching down your neck, leaving several red spots along the way. Your legs were straddling his hips as he helped you get down on his dick, the length and thickness made you squirm and stop midways, he always reassured you, “You’re doing it very good, my love, just a little bit more, I’ll let you accommodate to it” speaking sweetly, brushing your hair away from your face and caressing your cheek.

When it was all the way in, very painfully so, he didn’t made any single attempt to move or you on it, he wanted to wait for you to be ready. As soon as you were, giving that you were rocking your hips slightly, he started pulling you up and down at a slow pace.

Moans and whines were filling the room, “Fuck, you feel so good” he bit gently into your shoulder, “I’m gonna lay you down princess, I need a-“, you pointed to your night stand, “Prepared are we?” he purred as he softly put you down on the covers, grabbed the condom and put it on.

“You can be more aggressive if you need” your voice came out almost as a whisper, but he caught it anyways, “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just want it to be decent” he was holding back, “Hobie, we need to get the drug out, please” Bad way for you to find out, but he had a creative thought, without thinking twice, he put your hands on your head and used his webs to tie your wrists together. Obviously your thoughts were snatched away when he propped inside again, soon the fact that he was Spider-Punk was long forgotten.

His pace accelerated, your whole body tensed up and you just wanted to be connected to him, you just wanted to keep kissing him, hugging him, if it ended and you were never like that with him again, you wouldn't know what to do. You just wanted to be like this with him, hitting every place that mattered, sending electric shocks through your body.

At some point you seemed to have passed out, but the change of position woke you straight up. On your fours, his hands pushed his shaft right into you by your hips, then he pulled you up, his arm working like an anchor across your chest, which by the way, was covered in saliva, red spots and bite marks, and so will your back as soon as he is over with it.

He wasn’t behind with the hickeys, you subconsciously left him lots of open mouth kisses, bites, he was fairly happy with each and every one.

“I know you’re tired, my love, but I’m almost there” your moans didn’t even sounded as such, they were grunts, sloppy non sexy at all choked grunts. You guys started around eleven, by the time he was almost there the clock marked three in the morning.

He finally came inside the condom, the one that by some miracle stayed on and unbroken though all the abuse the thick shaft made in your insides. Speaking of which, he was considerate enough to come out of you carefully and lovingly accommodate your body into his.

“Thank you, love” he slurred the words, his body was so big next to yours, so he easily surrounded you, arms around you, legs intertwined, he wanted all you to be with all of him.  

“How do you feel?” your voice was hoarse, “Better, tired, you?” you made a sound, it confirmed to him that you were the same as him.

"I'm still very on, I wanna eat you out" he hugged you tightly, "Maybe let me sleep a bit and then you wake me up with your face in between my legs" he laughed at you, "I'll take you up on that, love".

Around seven pinches on the insides of your thighs woke you up, turns up he really was in between your legs, hickeys adorning both inner thighs, "Good mornin' luv" he wasn't drugged anymore, just horny and hungry, giving on how he was licking and grinning.

Your back arched as soon as your brain connected with the rest of your senses, "Hobie, jeez fuck! Too damn early" you whined, getting hold of his hair, "I just obliged to your wishes" the vibrations made the assault even more intense.

"Don't talk with your mouth full" he was kind of liking the slight yanking you were taking on his hair, furthermore the tremble down your legs as you came.

"I love your sounds" he crawled up your body, gently laying down on top of you, his weight never fully on you though, he was careful, and his head fell down on the crook of your neck.

"Thank you for last night" he laced his voice with kisses behind your ear, "No problem, now please for fucks sake, sleep" he chuckled at your groggy voice, "I meant it, by the way" given your lack of response he pulled his body off of you for a bit, just to get a fair look at you face when he spoke those words that died already to come off his lips again.

"I love you" and then he smiled.

"And I love you" somehow, him being all bare for you, your case as well, made the confession deeper.

"Just so you know, you're trapped now, I'm not letting you go now" his smirk made you giggle a little, "Good, there's just nowhere I rather be than here...with you".

The end.

#hobie brown #hobie x y/n #hobie x you #hobie x reader #hobie brown smut #atsv hobie #hobie smut #spiderpunk #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown x you #hobie brainrot #hobie brown x reader #aphrodisiac