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libraryofgage · 9 months

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I realized Steve is absolutely that kid whose parents put him through piano lessons solely so they could have another way to show off at parties and shit. And then that thought morphed into a little Steddie plot bunny and here we are lol:

Steve doesn't know it's the last time he'll sit at the grand piano, the last time he'll press down its keys and let music fill the empty room before bleeding out into the empty house.

He doesn't know that when his parents next come home, his mother will notice how horribly out of tune the instrument is. He doesn't know that it will be sent off somewhere for repair (his parents won't tell him where, no matter how he asks, and he'll never quite understand why) and lost to him. He doesn't know his parents won't bother buying another one; it was only ever there to impress party guests when Steve sat down and played some Bach. Without those parties, company or otherwise, there's no point in getting another one: both the piano and Steve will have outlived their usefulness.

He doesn't know that he'll be storing away his sheet music, carefully placed into folders and in a waterproof box for safekeeping. He doesn't know that he'll soon become too consumed by high school and dating and monsters to idly write down notes on a staff. He doesn't know that when he's swinging a nail-ridden bat in the future (to destroy monsters, sure, but destruction is destruction, right?) he'll ache with the pain of missing the act of creation as a means of stress relief.

He doesn't know any of that, so Steve sits down at the grand piano with a soft smile, gently trailing his fingers over the keys before lining them up in the Middle C-position. He runs through a few warm-ups, letting muscle memory take him away, so he doesn't have to think. Without another thought, he seamlessly transitions into idly playing, bits and pieces of everything he remembers and songs he's heard blending together.

Mozart's Air morphs into Beethoven's Fur Elise into Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. It doesn't all sound good together, but that's not the point when Steve plays by himself. All that matters is letting his brain shut off for a bit, letting the notes and echoes mingle together to create something new and joyful.

After two hours on the piano, his wrists are aching; he always forgets to hold them in the proper position when he plays alone. But it's a good ache, one that reminds him of the music still dancing around in his brain.

Steve takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, feeling the last of his tension dissipate. He lets his hands linger on the piano for a little longer before standing and leaving the room, tragically unaware of his imminent and unavoidable loss.

--------

Steve is sprawled across an old couch in Gareth's garage, reading Eddie's well-loved copy of Lord of the Rings. He'd promised to at least give it a go, and he had to admit he was looking forward to finally understanding some of the references Hellfire Club and the kids make. His progress is slow, but he's almost halfway through after two weeks of work. Reading while Corroded Coffin practices helps; the background noise of their music is perfect, letting him ignore all other sounds and focus.

Of course, that's provided they actually play continuously instead of starting the same song over and over only for Eddie to stop them halfway through. When it happens for the sixth time, Eddie growls in frustration, tugging harshly at a lock of hair. "It still sounds wrong!" he cries, dropping into a crouch while cradling his guitar close.

"Stopping us halfway through isn't helping," Gareth points out, idly twirling a drumstick as he watches Eddie's lament.

"Do you know what's wrong yet?" Asher asks.

Steve can longer focus on Lord of the Rings. Instead, he places the book on his chest and looks at the band to watch how this plays out. Eddie scowls and looks up at Asher. "Unfortunately, Ashy Baby, no."

Jeff, meanwhile, has locked eyes with Steve. And because Jeff knows the perfect way to get Eddie off their asses is to get him on Steve's instead, he says, "Why don't you ask Harrington what he thinks?"

Eddie whips around to look at Steve, eyes wide and hopeful. He doesn't even bother standing from his crouch, instead waddling his way over to Steve and testing his ability to hold back laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight. "Stevie, baby, sweetheart, lover boy, please tell me that wonderful brain of yours has an idea so your favorite boyfriend can finish this rocking song."

"You're my only boyfriend."

"Which automatically makes me your favorite," Eddie points out, grinning as he leans closer. With Steve still laying down, Eddie's the perfect height in his crouch to kiss him. He lingers for a few seconds before pulling away, and Steve knows his own smile matches the dopiness of Eddie's.

"Have you considered adding a piano?" Steve asks.

"None of us know how to play," Asher says, and Steve would look at him if Eddie's face and hair and shoulders and everything weren't filling his entire line of sight.

Without thinking, Steve hums and says, "I do."

"Do what?" Eddie asks.

"Know how to play piano."

There's a silence that follows his sentence, one that makes Steve's stomach lurch as he wonders if he's maybe fucked up the shaky peace and friendship he's finally managed to build with the other members of Corroded Coffin. He doesn't know how his words might have done it, but he's scrambling to somehow take them back when Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth, the bands of his rings pressing against Steve's lips.

"Gareth, you still got that keyboard?" he asks, keeping his eyes locked on Steve. There's a light dancing in them like he's just discovered magic is real, like Steve has amazed him beyond imagination.

With a grunt, Gareth gets up from his drums and steps into his house. The rest of them stay in silence while waiting, Eddie refusing to remove his hand no matter how much Steve licks his palm. When he finally gives up and just glares at Eddie, his boyfriend grins brightly back.

"It's a little dusty, but it'll work fine," Gareth says when he comes back, and Eddie finally moves his hand and body, allowing Steve to see Gareth setting up a keyboard a few feet away from his drums.

"Okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, taking the book from Steve and carefully setting it aside before pulling him off the couch, "you've heard the song enough. Play what's missing."

Steve hesitates before walking over to the keyboard. Eddie sticks to him like a shadow, sliding his arms around Steve from behind once he's standing in front of the white and black keys. An odd nervousness churns in Steve, tugging at his spine and making his palms clammy, but he knows it would be much worse without Eddie there. If he had to play in front of the band without feeling like anyone was on his side, he'd probably just throw up instead.

"It, uh, it's been a while," he says quietly, easily falling into the muscle memory of tracing the keys and finding Middle C and dancing his fingers through warm-ups despite his words.

Eddie squeezes him tighter as Jeff asks, "Since you've played? Why?"

Memories of his grand piano rise in Steve unbidden, overwhelming him in a rush of longing for the instrument itself and the relaxation of playing. "My parents paid for lessons and had me play at company parties. They, uh, sent it off to be tuned, but it got damaged, and they didn't get another one."

"That sucks, Stevie," Eddie murmurs, soft and reassuring and Steve suddenly feels far more confident.

He looks up at Jeff. "Can you start playing again?" he asks, flashing a grateful smile when Jeff nods and starts strumming the song's opening notes.

Steve listens closely, breathing in the tune he's heard so many times and letting it take hold. He doesn't allow himself to actually think, letting Jeff's guitar and Eddie's arms and hair and scent drown out everything else. Before he knows it, he's playing a hesitant tune that grows with confidence as he follows the song laid out before him. He's always a measure behind, chasing the guitar's echoing notes as they fade.

He and Jeff make it through the whole song without Eddie telling them to stop. When the final notes of guitar and piano echo together, the latter still chasing the former even at the end, Steve is shaking with excitement and anxiety and grief and joy.

He lets out a slow breath, feeling tension he didn't even realize had lingered for so long finally draining from his shoulders and dissipating. Steve can also feel Eddie's face pressed against his neck, a smile searing into his skin as Eddie squeezes him even tighter.

"I love you so fucking much, Stevie, that's exactly what was missing," Eddie says, his words the only warning he gives before pulling Steve away from the keyboard and off his feet and spinning him around. His surprised yelp quickly morphs into laughter that still lingers even after Eddie has set him down again.

Gareth and Jeff and Asher have already started discussing how the other parts of the song might change with the addition of a keyboard, but Steve is too busy turning in Eddie's arms and kissing his smile away to pay them any mind. He can worry about inevitably being roped into the band's practices later, after he and Eddie are breathless and flushed and smiling bright.

#steddie fic #Steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Corroded Coffin #Stranger Things #My writing #I got this plot bunny and fucking ran with it

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gimmeurtmi · 3 months

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stamina — seungmin

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, oral (m receiving), deep throating, use of “bubs”, “baby”, “puppy”, face fucking pretty much, cum play, lmk if i missed one!

inspo: my hopes and ambitions

notes: wrote this for day 8 of kinktober so it’s a little late but i loved this too much to leave it behind <3

{ wc: 2706 }

As soon as Seungmin came home you could tell he was frustrated. It was obvious from the way he’d rolled his eyes at seemingly nothing, clearly thinking about something that annoyed him. It was obvious from the way he was completely zoned out during the movie, and the way he simply shrugged when you asked him if he wanted popcorn. Ever since he got his braces off he never said no to popcorn.

Something was clearly bothering him. And considering he was still incredibly sweet to you and hugged your knees during the movie—you knew it had to be something that happened at work.

“Seung, did everything go okay during your lesson?”

“Fine,” he said, entirely too quickly.

You brought your hand to his shoulder, rubbing your thumb against his skin lightly. He exhaled sharply, knowing you caught him in his lie. He was thankful you weren’t pushing him to speak though, and kissed your temple to show his gratitude for you.

“It’s this comeback,” he sighed after a few moments, letting his head fall onto the back of the couch. “It’s kicking my ass.”

“You always say that,” you hum softly, “and it always turns out fine. In fact, you get better with every comeb–”

“--yeah, yeah,” he dismisses quickly, “I know.”

“Then what is it, baby?”

He sighed deeply, letting his eyes scan around the room as he let his thoughts gather in his brain before he could voice them. Then he licked his lips and sighed one more time.

“I’m frustrated,” he started, “hyung keeps saying I’m gonna need a lot of stamina for this song. It’s apparently a really complicated dance and it’s already hard vocally.”

“Then you just need to work on your stamina,” you offered softly.

“Yeah, I know that,” he rolled his eyes, “but I don’t know what the dance is gonna be like so all I can do is practise my vocals while running like some idiot.”

“If that’s what you need to do–”

“--I wish they’d just let me see the dance, but they’re being weirdly secretive about it and I can’t work like this.”

You squeezed his shoulder lightly, trying to distract him from the frustration he was so visibly still feeling. “I can come run with you? Practise the song and we can run around th–”

“--I can’t run anymore,” he shakes his head, “it’s stupid and it’s not even gonna help that much. The stamina you need for dancing isn’t the same as running.”

“Then try and figure out what you need to build your stamina and we can do that if you want,” you try, “or if it’s something you need to do alone. I’m here to help when you need it, Seung.”

“I know,” he turned to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “I just need to figure it out until hyung finally teaches us the choreo.”

You didn’t want to wait for Seungmin to figure it out by himself, you wanted to help him even if it was just a suggestion you could offer him, so instead you decided to confer with the only other vocalist you knew.

Jeongin was helpful, you think, as he offered things like weight lifting and dancing to a choreo Seungmin already knew. Seungmin declined both those suggestions however. He hated weights, and dancing to a different choreo was too confusing for him.

When you asked Chan for his suggestions, swearing him to secrecy because you knew Seungmin didn’t want him to worry–he suggested something quite different.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a proven fact. None of my vocal teachers have ever said this to me, which is probably why the other two haven’t thought about it–but sex is known to build your stamina.”

“Chan, if this is your weird way of saying he just needs to get laid–”

“--have fun!”

And then he ended the call.

You thought it over for a few days, thinking surely Chan was just trying to be a little shit. You knew he was protective of his band members and always wanted to help him, but you also knew he loved stressing you out–so surely that wasn’t sound advice.

Besides, you were almost certain Seungmin wouldn’t be able to focus on his vocals if he was fucking you. Sex was surely not the answer you were looking for.

Even so, the next time Seungmin came home from a vocal lesson with frustration deep on his brows, you decided you wanted his opinion on the matter, too. If it helped him you’d do anything and honestly, when Seungmin started working towards a new comeback he was usually too tired to do anything physical with you when he came home. You wanted to convince yourself you were definitely doing this to help him, and not because it was you that needed to get laid. You weren’t being selfish about this, really. Chan said it could help!

Seungmin shared your opinion that he surely wouldn’t be able to focus on singing at all if you were naked and moaning on top of him, so it would be completely pointless.

“What if I sucked you off, then?” You try, as neutrally as possible.

“How will that help?” He chuckled.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, throwing your hands in the air.

“If you want my dick in your mouth just ask, you don’t need an excuse,” he smirked.

“I promise I do genuinely think this could help,” you pouted at him, “and if it doesn’t you still get your dick wet so it’s a win-win, really.”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes to fully sell it as he unbuckled his belt. “I guess you can suck my dick, then.”

You giggled at him, carefully lowering yourself onto the floor.

You watch as Seungmin pulls down his pants, letting them pool onto the floor right in front of your knees. You grab onto his thighs, slowly pulling them apart as you rack your nails across his smooth skin.

You kiss his knee slowly, planting another kiss higher and then higher before nuzzling your face by his stomach. You let your lips ghost near his hip bone, kissing it softly before slowly sucking on the taut skin.

He sucks in a breath, his big hands going to your neck and pushing you closer.

“I can’t hear any singing, Seung,” you say against his skin before making sure to suck a mark into his stomach.

He lets out a small moan, shutting his eyes tightly before he licks his lips.

“Okay, okay,” he lets out, taking in a deep breath, “this might actually work.”

You chuckle to yourself before splaying your hands across his thighs, kneading at the muscles as your lips trail from one hip bone to the other.

Seungmin starts singing, his voice even and strong.

It almost bothers you, how controlled his voice is, and so you run your hand from his inner thigh to his crotch. He isn’t fully hard yet, and you’re sure he’s trying to bring all his focus on the right notes and words.

You’re gonna have to help him, then.

You kiss along his tip, soft and slow. Open mouthed kisses, trailing from the head all the way to the base while you use your other hand to softly run your nails across his inner thigh.

You can feel his cock growing harder, warmer against your lips.

His voice is still too even for your liking.

You spit in your hand, licking the wetness around to make sure it’s fully wet–and it’s then you notice the singing has stopped. You look up questioningly.

“What is it?”

“That was so fucking hot,” he lets out. His eyes are clouded, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth.

“Don’t stop singing,” you order him instead, trying your best to ignore the way your walls flutter at his intense stare.

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles, nodding slowly before he tries to remember what part of the song he got to. He can’t really recall, having been too turned on by your actions so he simply starts again from the beginning.

You spit in your hand one more time, Seungmin shutting his eyes tightly at the sight, before you start stroking his cock. You keep going until he’s fully hard, when he starts singing what you think is the chorus–and then you take him in your mouth.

You push him inside your throat until you start choking slightly and then you hollow out your cheeks. You start bobbing your head right away, up and down as fast as you can take it without gagging.

The singing stops again.

You look up at him, blinking a few tears away, waiting for him to keep singing.

He doesn’t.

Instead he brings his thumb to the corner of your eye, wiping the wetness away and moaning.

“Your mouth is so warm,” he sighs, as if in a dream. “You take my cock so good, bubs.”

You pull away. Seungmin brings a hand to the back of your head, trying to push you back down but you push his wrist away.

“That’s not the deal, puppy,” you remind him, “I stop when you stop.”

“I can’t focus on the song when you gag like that,” he whines.

You push up on your knees to kiss him softly on the lips. “Try.”

He groans in response, lulling his head from one side to the other before he opens his eyes with a new found determination in them.

“Alright,” he says, “let’s go.”

Seungmin is known for his dutifulness, is known for his strong mind and level-headedness. You can’t ignore just how wet it makes you to know you have the power to make him lose his focus, but you can’t think about that too much. If you do, you won’t care about helping him anymore and you’d start begging him to fuck you.

No, you can’t do that. You both need to focus on his stamina right now.

You wait for Seungmin to sing again, starting from the very beginning of the song one more time, before you let his dick slide all the way down your throat again.

You make sure to breathe through your nose, swallowing around him every few seconds.

Once you start moving slowly, making sure to tuck your teeth behind your lips as much as you can, you see his stomach clenching tightly as he keeps singing. He’s still hitting all the notes, you think, but he takes deeper breaths between each line.

He doesn’t sound as controlled anymore.

The knowledge of that spurs you on, and you start moving your tongue up and down against the underside of his cock. You can trace the vein there with your tongue, can feel it pulsing heavily inside your mouth.

You move your head up and down, as fast as you can possibly go, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.

Seungmin’s panting above you, his fingers buried in your hair as he pushes you further down his cock. He’s still singing, but only barely, and at this point you aren’t too sure if you care anymore.

You feel spit sliding down the corner of your mouth and you try to suck it all back in, but it’s too late. It’s messy, dribbling all the way down your chin and onto Seungmin’s smooth thigh. You don’t care about the mess, either.

You barely care about the aching wetness between your legs, too busy with the salty taste hitting the back of your throat in small intervals with each time Seungmin messes up and moans mid-note.

You hear him repeating the same line three times, trying to get the notes just right but failing as you gag around his tip after a particularly deep thrust from his part.

You aren’t sure when he started fucking into your mouth but you let him, relaxing your jaw as much as you can and breathing deeply every time his cock hits your throat like that.

He brings his other hand, the one that isn’t pushing and pulling your hair, around your throat.

He doesn’t apply any pressure, but you know he’s trying to feel just how deep he is inside you–and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You aren’t sure when he started moving and how you didn’t notice, but he buries his hand in your underwear, moaning at your wetness.

“Look how wet you get when I fuck your mouth,” he moans deeply, “bet you actually did make this up just so you could suck my dick.”

You can’t answer him, but you try your best to nod as he pushes his cock in and out of your mouth. It isn’t even true, you did actually want to help, but when Seungmin uses that tone with you you’d agree with anything he says.

“My little baby loves sucking cock so much,” he chuckles at you, sliding two fingers inside you with ease, “gonna get me addicted to your mouth like this.”

You moan, your throat closing in around his dick as you feel the vibrations from your vocal cords around Seungmin’s hand. He grabs your chin, pulling it down further as he pulls your bottom lip down.

“Gonna cum down your throat, yeah?” He asks, just to make sure you can take it–and your wide eyes tell him there’s nothing more you want in that moment.

He slumps back into the couch, both hands on each of your cheeks to keep you in place as he starts fully fucking into your mouth–shameless as he lets his moans spill out into the air.

You aren’t sure what was prettier, this or his singing, but you want to hear either and both for the rest of your life.

You grab onto his knees for some sort of support as his thrusts move quickly and ungracefully–until he’s grabbing onto your hair and spilling inside your mouth.

You welcome the salty taste happily, letting your tongue touch the roof of your mouth as the bitterness takes over your senses. Before you can swallow, Seungmin grabs your chin and opens your mouth.

“Let me see, bubs,” he pants, chest heaving in the aftermath of his orgasm, “show me how dirty I made you.”

You stick your tongue out, trying your best to keep his cum on it and not let it spill, but Seungmin clearly has other plans.

He presses his finger into your tongue, watching as the thick whiteness coating your tongue slips down your lips and onto your chest.

“So fucking dirty,” he mumbles, gathering the cum that hasn’t spilled and pushing it back into your mouth.

As if in a trance, he pushes it in deeper, gathering everything with his fingers before nodding at you slightly–silently telling you to swallow it now. When you stick your tongue back out there’s nothing but spit around your mouth, and Seungmin pushes your chin down to let it spill onto your shirt, too.

“Did it help?” You ask after a few moments, the spaced out look in Seungmin’s eyes still very much present. You can’t ignore just how rough your voice sounds, and it sends another wave of arousal into your pussy.

“Did what help?” He blinks at you.

“The stamina,” your voice is almost gone, “did fucking my face help your stamina?”

Seungmin chuckles, leaning back into the couch and pulling you with him. You ignore the slight ache in your knees–you’re gonna have to treat some rug burns later–and joining him on the couch as he pulls you into his arms.

“I think so,” he sighs, wiping your chin with the back of his hand, “but now I know for a fact every time I sing that song I’m gonna want to fuck your face again.”

You suppress the moan building up in your chest. “Maybe this time you should take me on tour, then.”

“So I can fuck your face every night?” He challenges, eyebrows high on his face.

You nod quickly.

“You got a fucking deal, bubs,” he laughs, leaning his head back on the pillows and letting out the most content sigh you’ve heard from him all week.

#seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x you #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin x y/n #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids smut #kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #all.works #kinktober23

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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months

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Alfred's Boy Part 5

@donesodone said: I just wanted to know. Is there a continuation of Alfred's Boy in the Works? If not, that's fine. I just love it and want to see it continue.

Bruce didn't realize how quiet Danny indeed was until Wes appeared. He suspected, of course, that no child was removed from their home by a super secret ex-spy if it wasn't a terrible, horrible reason, but still, he was shocked to see the difference.

Alfred's foster son had a weight around him, wearing his sadness like a depressing cloak. It was apparent that Danny was just tired. As if though he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in a long time, even when he was moving about and doing his chores like nothing was amiss.

Bruce will admit that he hadn't realized that Danny was so sad. He had no previous reference to compare him to, so he assumed that the boy was naturally reserved.

If he's honest, he also thought it was impressive how Danny could take anything in stride without so much as a blink.

Finding out his boss was Batman? Another Tuesday.

Tim's photo album of him? Danny appreciates the art behind photography.

Damian burst into his room, covered in bleeding wounds, he just had to have Danny bind? He took lessons from Alfred and appreciated the change to practice.

What he failed to realize was through all those events, Danny had had a lukewarm reaction, as if he had forgotten how to enjoy things.

Now, however, watching him with Wes, he realizes that Danny is naturally bubbly. He smiled wide, talked a lot with his hands, and while the same sass he had seen before was still there, there was more ease in him wielding it.

"Fun Fact: Tango was initially invented to be done between two men, " He hears Wes say, as Bruce walks by the viewing room the two boys were in.

Unable to help himself, Bruce peeks into the room, fighting the urge to lecture Danny. The reason for the lecture is that Danny is currently sitting in Wes's lap, his back to Wes' chest, and both are staring at the book "Useless Information" in Wes' hands.

Not dating his ass.

"So what you're saying is: Tango is gay," Danny affirms, cuddling into the blankets tucked around him, and leaning further into Wes. "The dance of our people."

Wes hums, "If only we could dance."

"Boys." He calls because he really wants to step between them, but Bruce is already doing that against his kids, and he is done being the civilian in Jason's novels. "Would either of you like to go to an opera tonight? I have some box seat tickets a close friend gave me, but I had other plans and didn't want them to go to waste."

Bruce didn't, but a little white lie wouldn't hurt anyone. He could easily buy them before the kids got to the opera house.

Wes's eyes practically sparkled. Bruce knew they would; he heard Wes play some songs from three famous operas the other day while Danny was showering. "Opera with box seats!? I love to go!"

Danny grimaces, clearly not that big of a fan. "Now look what you did, Master Bruce."

"Please, can we go, Danny?" Wes whines, "I'll let you haunt me if we go."

Danny cracks a smile, and Bruce is stunned by its softness. Had he not noticed how empty Danny's smiles have been until now? "Okay, Okay, we can go. But if I fall asleep you can't complain."

"How could anyone fall asleep at the Opra?"

"Easy. It's boring." Steph snips, leaning on the door frame. Bruce hadn't realized she was there. He frowned in her direction, not missing how Wes rolled his eyes.

"Hello, green-eyed monster. How are you this evening?" He said, making Steph eyes narrow. Danny was swinging his head between them, looking confused, but before he could ask, Wes continued, "Want to go with us? Danny needs more people to cuddle, and my visit has an expiration date."

Steph looks taken back, but her whole face breaks into the largest smile Bruce has ever seen on her face in a while when Danny nods, seemingly embarrassed. "It would be nice to have more cuddles. I, ugh, realized I was going too long without them."

Hmm, that's the fifth time the two have mentioned cuddling since yesterday. Bruce knows he ignored Wes's entrance when he got here yesterday, but maybe he should look into it.

If Alfred allowed, of course.

"I'll go get ready!" Steph shouts, racing down the hall. There is a brief pause before a loud "Hey, watch it!" and quick, distant "Sorry, Jason!"

His second oldest stridden into the room, grumbling at the giant front stain on his shirt. A half-empty cup in his hand lets Bruce know Steph bumped into him, making him spill his precious soda.

"Can't get any peace around here," Jason mumbles.

"I can clean that for you, Master Jason." Danny is quick to say, standing up from his seat. Wes lifts his arm to let Danny wiggle out of his grasp, but Jason only shakes his head.

"Nah, it's fine, kid." With one hand, Jason yanks the shirt over his head. Wes drops his book, and Danny's face goes very red. Bruce has a moment of utter horror, but Jason doesn't seem to notice, throwing the ruined shirt over his shoulder. "I was going to shower after some reading anyway. What are you crazy kids up to?"

"O-Oprea," Danny shutters, staring up at Jason with strange emotion in his eyes. Wes looks like a deer caught in headlights beside him.

Jason's face brightens. "No way! I love the opera."

"You do?" We gasped.

"Yeah, though, I'm more of a play guy myself. I love the theater. Once a drama kid always a drama kid." Jason winks and, oh no, Wes looks to be swooning. What's worse, Danny seems to be swooning too.

"Want to come with?" Wes blurts, and Jason considers the invitation carefully before shrugging.

"You know what? Yeah, I love to. Let me go take my shower then get ready. It's at what time?"

"Seven," Bruce answers, stepping in when both boys seem unable to get their tongues to work. Jason nods, and then a wicked smirk grows on his face.

Bruce is instantly weary.

"Let's make this a family event. You guys don't mind, right?" Jason turns back to the boys, shaking their heads like bobble figures.

"The more, the merrier, Master Jason."

"Perfect" Quick as a whip, Jason pulls out his phone and sends a quick message. He leaves the room, but not before calling over his shoulder "I'll meet you in the main doorway at six-thirty."

Bruce's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, reading the message: Hey losers, Danny wants to see the Oprea. The really romantic one. Do any of you want to join us?

He feels a headache coming on. Especially with Wes and Danny looking at each other with shocked open mouths, looking like they were wordlessly expressing how attractive they thought Jason was.

Tim comes sprinting down the hall. Bruce is unsure what he is doing, seeing as his hair is wrapped in a towel, but he is wearing half of a chicken costume as he runs by. "I want to go, I want to go, I want to go! Don't leave without me!"

Wes squints at the open door hallway before laughing that strange, impish laugh of his. "This place is a riot."

Danny pauses before that same soft smile blooms on his face, and Bruce's heart melts. "Yeah, I like Wayne Manor too."

Maybe Danny isn't as happy as before, but maybe one day he will be. Bruce would be content with that.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Alfred's boy #Part 5 #Danny has a medical condition where he needs cuddles #Wes has been in Wayne manor for fourteen hours and is tearing them apart #Jason is HOT and the Amity people know it #Bruce isn't sure if Wes and Danny are a thing #Nothing makes sense at Wayne manor #You bet all of Danny's wanna be sutiors are getting dressed to the nines for opra

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leah-lover · 11 days

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Alone. Leah Williamson x reader.

Smut 18+

Motherhood was no easy job. Kids, they take all that you have. From privacy to time, all your day would revolve around them.

You and Leah have been mothers to your twins for four years. In those years all you two did was work as professional soccer players and mothers. You both wanted to create the best childhood for your children so you would spend all your waking hours with them. From swimming lessons, to dance lessons, to soccer practice and play time at home you were swamped.

Another problem with your kids was that they were attached to you, they wouldn't sleep anywhere over near anyone but you two.

You missed your wife very much. You missed her touch, her dominance, and her feeling inside you. Luckily, Leah was very close to her mother. So she and the rest of her family have been bribing and manipulating your twins into staying at their house for a sleepover. The idea wasn't easy at first but after trial, error, and time they successfully confused them to go to their house.

—------

“ Goodbye my loves, have a great night.” You say as you wave goodby to your twins and slam the door shut.

As soon as the door was closed you were hit with a wave of silence that you have been craving for a long time. There wasn't anyone asking for anything or screaming loudly, there was only silence and an embrace from your wife.

“ I am gonna run the bath, you bring the champagne.”she whispers in your ear before giving you a kiss on the cheek.

After a little while you go to the bathroom with a bottle of rosé only to find Leah lighting candles, and blasting relaxing music.

You both strip off your clothes and go to the bathtub. You lay on Leah’s chest leaving only the bubbles between your naked bodies.

“ I have missed you so fucking much “ says Leah while placing small shallow pecks across your shoulder to which you reward her with a small soft moan.

“I missed you too baby. I missed your lips on my skin and your hands inside me.” You whisper in her ears before starting to kiss her slowly and properly. Your kiss was needy and filled with months’ worth of longing.

You stayed in the tub for a little while talking, kissing, and in each other's arms.

You reminisced about your time before children. The times when you would have multiple rounds a day anywhere in the house. You also remembered all the times you got caught in the middle of sex, and when you were loud and scared your sleeping babies.

“Baby I need to feel you inside me “ you say to her squeezing her thigh.

“So needy baby.” She exclaimed.

She then picked you up after you got out of the tub and took you over to the bed. She placed you down, your body still damp from the tub, parted your legs and slid between them. She then kissed you but this kiss was rough and demanding. You always liked that there were two sides tho Leah, the one in the tub and the one kissing you now.

“Leah please please fuck me “ you beg.

“are you that fucking needy for me baby? Is your clit craving my touch this hard?”

“ Yes daddy please fuck me I will be your good girl please daddy.” You beg her.

She then rolls down your body kissing every inch of those skin until she stops at your core.

“Is all of this for me? Did I make you this fucking wet baby?“

You respond by releasing the filthiest moan of the night. She then starts to kiss your inner thighs, then she places shallow kisses on your clit followed by real kisses, then she starts to slowly rubbing circles on your swollen, puffy clit. It didn't take much for you to start begging for her to let you come ,which she agrees to.

“ One more time baby “ she demandes as she gets out the strap and puts it on her core. The strap she chose was double ended so both of you could feel each and every thrust. She started out slowly putting the length of the whole strap in and out of you fucking herself on the process.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”she whispers when she leans down to kiss you. After a while she starts to pick up the pace and fucks you harder and faster. The room was filled with moans and whimpers coming from the both of you.

“ Want us to come together “she says before leaning down again to kiss you. She then puts her head on your shoulder and fucks you harder and deeper which sets you both over the edge.

After you both calmed down and Leah has disposed of her toy, you lay in bed, you on her chest.

“ I love you so fucking much “ she whispers, kissing you temple, dizzy with love.

“I love you too. We should do this more often.” you joked before falling asleep.

Let me know if you want part 2.

#leah williamson #leah williamson smut #leah williamson imagine #leah × reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #woso x reader #woso request #woso smut

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shiny-holographic-star · 2 months

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Sirene asteroid (1009) observations

Sagittarius Sirene people appeal to others when they're fulfilling their purpose or having a clear direction in their lives. For example, my cousin has this placement, and she's able to appeal to others when she's so sure about being a dancer, believing that she was made for that, following the direction set by her heart/intuition without questioning it.

I have this placement too, and I think people come to me a lot in search for answers, to understand themselves better since Sagittarius is all about expanding ourselves.

Sirene in the 5th house is about mesmerizing people when you're in the spotlight, being confident and letting yourself shine. Also when performing, so this is a good placement for celebrities. My cousin has this, and she grabs everyone's attention when dancing, plus her personality (5H) is very charismatic.

I also have Sirene in the 5th House, and I'm not so comfortable in the spotlight which to me comes from the Capricorn degree (10°, 22°). This brings delays and challenges when it comes to you expressing or getting used to this alluring energy. You have lessons to learn before you're able to own this energy.

A Leo degree shows that you're confident to use this energy, you were born to be seen and to shine under the spotlight! Guess who has this. Yes, my cousin 💃🏻⭐️ It's worth noting though, that she has insecurities and suffers from anxiety, but she still loves the spotlight and wants to shine.

Libra Sirene attracts people when they show a chill attitude, by wanting to make everyone feel comfortable or included, by using a soft voice and having a great sense of aesthetics. My dad, for example, uses a soft voice when he wants to be polite or liked by others, and shows a super chill attitude with my sister and I's friends. A couple of my girl friends simped for him 😷

My sister has this placement too and she's the type to try and include everyone in the conversation, plus she too softens her voice when being polite or wanting to be liked? She also has a great eye for fashion. And with her friends she appears more chill than how she really is (she's crazy, your honor - in a good way).

Jungkook from BTS has Libra Sirene and his singing voice is very soft compared to what I thought it would sound like at first.

He also has Sirene in the 9th House so he might drawn in more foreign fans than korean. This placement could indicate being alluring when you're open to learn from other cultures or expand your understanding of things. Think about ambiences like college, school, foreing countries.

Scorpio Siren could be appealing when they're intense, reserved, observant, alert. Also, when they're being toxic (controlling or uninterested) or give off that aura of bad boy. For example, one of my exes has this, and he pulled me in with little to no effort, he used to take his time replying to my messages and I waited for him, thinking about what he could be doing and wishing for his attention. 🤢

A high school friend has this placement too, and he had this air or mystery when he actually was doing nothing? He has Scorpio Sun conjunct Sirene, and he wasn't easy to get close to at first. It's like he gave off an air of "I'm on my own, don't bother me", and some girls pinned after him.

Virgo Sirene people are alluring when they keep a humble attitude, lending their attention to you and recognizing they can learn something from anyone. My grandma and two friends (a guy and a girl) sometimes would ask me for advice, to explain something to them or to give them my opinion about something, and as I reply they'd look at me with the utmost attention, not wanting to miss any detail. They look at you recognizing the value of your words and that's so wholesome, it makes you feel heard and appreciated.

Sirene in the 1st House might give a great first impression considering it's the house of beginnings. They might be the person people notice or get curious about first in a group, and nobody knows why; it's unconscious. They also might atract people when they take initiative, which movilizes or motivates others. They seem like they would do good in a leadership position, people would be drawn to listening to them (especially when they're in the energy of the sign their Sirene asteroid falls under).

For example, a Virgo Sirene in the 1st House person might drawn people in by taking iniciative and assuming the role of a leader in a humble way, paying attention to everyone's input and striving to reach their ideal.

#astrology #astro placements #astro community #astro posts #astrology observations #aesthetic #birth chart #natal chart #astro chart #sirene asteroid #sirene #anime

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lavendermunson · 8 months

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dancing with our hands tied — eddie munson

୨ৎ ˙ ˖

summary Eddie seems to live in constant hell except when he is with you.

tags +18. eventual smut. friends to best friends to lovers. angst. pining. no upside down. slight chrissy x eddie and jealous reader. fingering. p in v without protection; be smart irl. no use of y/n, eddie calls reader peach. lose of virginity.

tw eddie has an older brother who punches him. slight mentions of blood and violence. alcohol. mention of drugs. if i forgot anything lmk!

w.c 7.6 k

a/n hey people! it’s the first time i write something like this. the fic is divided in tiny chapters that are titled by the lines of taylor’s song (see title) i hope it’s easy to understand and let me know if you like the format ♡ enjoy!

I. First sight, we love without reason.

It came to you as a surprise, really. The moment he sat down on the nearest seat to start the tutoring lesson. The secret is Eddie has always been good at English, it’s a thing among others that he kept as a secret. You weren’t sure why he would hide it, even lie about it.

You and Eddie became friends easily. But you wish the relationship had more meaning, you weren’t friends just school friends. The worst kind of friend you could be with someone as cool and pretty as Eddie.

One day, in the early morning of a cloudy Thursday Eddie attended school with a black eye. He rushed past you mumbling a kind Hey and going his way. You said hi back but it was too late, he was gone.

You missed him the rest of the day, he didn’t show up to class. His friends were alone at lunch. There was no sign of Eddie until later, tutoring sessions.

He slumps on the chair next to you, taking a deep breath and scratching his scalp nervously. His hands were shaking as he started to scribble on your textbook.

Your mind wasn’t focused on the textbook once, you looked longingly at the maroon-tinted bruise on his eye. A cut, maybe 12 hours old, rested on the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting” you whispered “I can’t keep my eyes off…your… are you okay, Eddie?” you pointed your finger at his eye, and he turned his head to look at you.

“Yeah, no don’t worry” he sighs, shifting uncomfortably in the wooden chair and taking a deep look at your face.

Your mouth has formed a pout and your brows are furrowed, Eddie tried to read your mind and he succeeded. You were worried.

“My stupid older brother, he comes in unexpectedly, and when I tried to kick him out of the trailer he punched me”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Eddie” You lean your head to the side, his face looks better from this angle.

He looks tired, the punch looks like it hurts a lot, more if it came from a person of his own bloodline.

“You know what, we can study another time and you can go rest” Your hands are quick to close the textbook, gathering all your stuff as Eddie’s body comes closer to you.

He takes your wrist on his hand, with a little more pressure than intended. When your mouth leans to the side he realizes he is hurting you (not too much, but still he didn’t mean it).

“No, I'm sorry” he drops your hand on your lap, delicately “We can study, I'm fine. Please I need the money”

“I know, I will pay you. But I can’t sit here and I can't focus knowing you are in pain or your mind is somewhere else” You smile at him, and he nods.

“Thanks…I'm having a really bad day. I cannot thank you enough, tomorrow we can study double I promise”

“Don’t worry, I got you” You head out of the library beside him “Take care of that, it looks like it’s going to stay there for a while”

He giggles at your comment, you are not sure why. You pay him for today and he smiles at you.

“Thank you, Peach”

He didn’t talk about his family much, he wasn’t entirely sure if there was something interesting to talk about. His mom left a few years ago, along with his older brother, leaving little Eddie and Uncle Wayne alone.

You knew Wayne from one of Eddie’s stories he told you about. He loves the man like he is his own father, but he is in a lot of debt with him.

Wayne takes care of Eddie as if he’s his own child. He surely loves Eddie like that. He works most of the day and night leaving his nephew alone in the trailer park.

One of those cold and lonely nights Eddie’s brother came to visit him at the trailer park only seeking some money. He was out of luck, and so was Eddie, when his furious brother came in and punched him in the face. Not once, but twice.

Eddie’s head and face hurt the rest of the night. He unfortunately overslept and didn’t get a chance to start school properly so he chose to show up just to the tutoring sessions. He needed the cash, you needed help.

II. Picture of your face in an invisible locket.

A week has passed since Eddie’s brother came to town. You’ve grown closer to Eddie than before.

You hang out after school now that tutoring lessons are over, he invites you to Hellfire Club to watch the campaigns and you sit there watching the whole thing unravel. He had a great imagination, and a wonderful mind full of creative stories and riddles. The kids enjoy his company as much as you do.

He talked about his problems at home with you, trying to get the ugly feeling out of his chest. You listened to him buying him a cup of ice cream and enjoying the wonderful summer breeze.

“I enjoy being with you,” he said “You are a great friend, Peach”

You smiled at him. He smiled at you. His dimples showed up for the first time since you’ve known him, a simple gesture that knocked some sense on you, you had a crush on him.

“Me too, Eds”

Your relationship with Eddie has evolved, not only do you have pet names for each other but it seems like you are best friends. It’s been some weeks since the first time he offered to tutor you and you accepted immediately.

You’ve always liked Eddie, he is his true self every time and he is proud of it.

You admire it.

People at school used to call him awful names, it was always like that until he met Chrissy. The popular kids are the ones that make more fun of him as if it wasn’t exhausting for them to be assholes and jerks nine hours a day. They have toned their jokes down knowing that the queen of Hawkins has a soft place for Eddie and he is more than happy hanging out with her sometimes.

That made your heart ache, it was a dreadful feeling.

After spending some time with Eddie you went home. Still under that lavender haze of accepting that you had a crush on him for a while. It was embarrassing to you only because you were so, so obsessed with him.

His face. His hands. His scent. His hair. Realizing everything about him made you crazy was scary, he only had eyes for one person who was the most perfect cheerleader in the history of high school.

To distract your mind from all the lousy thoughts you took a shower, it was quick, you needed to brush off the sweat and release some tension with a thorough massage on your scalp. The lavender shampoo lingered in the air, relaxing every inch of your body.

After the shower, it was time to eat some dinner. Instead of making a complicated meal you decided to heat some leftovers from yesterday and enjoy your evening eating and dancing in the kitchen with some of your old records playing upbeat songs to cheer you up.

A knock on your door makes you jump after finishing dinner. No one used to come by at this hour, not when your dad was out of town.

You get close to the door and look through the peephole to see who’s interrupting your godly moment. It was Eddie.

A gasp falls out of your mouth and you open the door as quickly as possible. You meet Eddie’s trembling body standing in front of you, his lip is bleeding and his eyes are watering.

“God, Eds…” you whisper, he leans closer to you, wrapping his hands around your neck and hugging you.

You didn’t say anything else, just mirrored his movements and wrapped his waist with your arms. Taking a few steps back and leading him in, you close the door with your foot and he stands there, still not letting you go.

You rub his back as he tries to ease his breath.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know where else to go so I-” he takes a step back breaking contact with you, his head falls as his eyes look at his feet.

“He, he did this to you again?” he broke contact so fast you decided to stay in your place, careful not to overwhelm him with unwanted touches.

“Yeah, shit shit, sorry I should've called. My mind sort of blacked out and the only thing I could remember was your street and the color of your house, the one with the weird birdhouse…”

“Eds, it’s okay” you interrupt “Let me help you, alright? let me clean your wound and make you some hot chocolate”

He nods, walking with you to the bathroom and past your bedroom. You are quick to find the first aid kit, taking some rubbing alcohol and gauze to clean Eddie’s cut. He hisses at the stingy feeling in his mouth, you apologize and he encourages you to continue.

And there you are, with the boy that you like so much. He leans on the counter closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel at peace with you around him.

You stand between his legs, his inner thighs rubbing the exposed skin of your thighs. The ungodly thoughts need to go away so you blink pretty fast, focusing, it’s not the moment nor the place nor the person.

You finish up cleaning his wound and placing a band aid over it to avoid any sort of discomfort while it heals.

“It’s ready” Eddie opens his eyes, finding you in front of him. So close. The white light in the bathroom makes you look like an angel.

“Thank you, peach” he squeezes your cheek slightly. Neither of you move from where you stand, so close to each other but so far at the same time.

“It’s nothing, let’s make you some chocolate”

“Wait, I'm not really hungry. I need to clear my mind and feel at peace for a bit, ‘m just gonna go back to my place to rest but again… thank you” he stands up straight and you step back, missing the heat of his body.

“No! you can’t go back, it's dangerous. My dad is out of town, you can stay here”

His head leans down to one side, he looks at you concerned.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. Anything for my best friend” you say. It’s the first time you call him like that. It’s the first time anybody has called him like that.

“Thank you, again, thank you”

“No problem, let me get you some fresh clothes”

You get Eddie some of your oversized clothes that only get out of your closet on rainy days. You give him some space to change and freshen up in the bathroom, getting him a new toothbrush and a towel so he can wash his face.

When he gets out you offer him the guest room, he immediately denies it and asks if he can sleep with you. You shake your head and show him a gentle smile.

“Is this okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or bother you” he asks while you get the bed ready to sleep.

“It’s okay, Eds. I get that you don’t want to be alone, do not worry”

You get in bed, he drops his body beside you. Both of you rest your head on the pillows while looking at the ceiling.

“You can stay here in the morning if you don’t want to go to school, I do have to go and hand in this paper I’ve been working on”

“Thank you, I owe you one,” he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest and letting out a sigh.

“You don’t, I’m happy to help you” You look at him, but he doesn’t look back. “Goodnight, Eds”

“Goodnight, sweetheart”

The pet name falls from his lips so beautifully.

You close your eyes with a smile plastered on your face, aware that the heat of your cheeks is present leaving a pink tint.

You are thankful it’s dark and Eddie is about to fall asleep so he won’t notice.

When you fall asleep Eddie does too. It takes him a couple of seconds to get into a deep sleep, he hasn’t slept like this in weeks, all thanks to the torture of his stupid brother and the constant thought of him coming back to punch him.

He feels safe around you and he is more than grateful to be your friend.

III. ‘Cause it’s gravity, keeping you with me.

Eddie has been staying over at your house multiple times, Your dad is out of town and you appreciate the company, his company. Sometimes he comes with you right after school, other times after he hangs out with Chrissy. You are not sure of what kind of relationship they have but it still hurts your heart every time he laughs at something she says.

You are thankful for having him over. The nights consist of movies, old tv shows, watching the commercials on the tv, and listing in your head what to buy next for these reunions.

The last slice of pizza remains in the box, it should be cold and washy but

Eddie is fine with it. He watches you from the corner of his eye, your gaze glued to him.

“Sorry, did you want the last slice?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts into reality.

“Huh? No, no you have it”

“Sure?”

“I hate it when the pizza is cold” Your mouth falls to the side, and you look at the slice with disgust.

“Bummer, I’ll have this baby for myself”

He raises his hand with the slice between his fingers, his head falls to the back and he takes a bite of the tip of the slice. You watch him in awe, not really thinking about how weird it is to watch Eddie eat, but your eyes can never leave his face. His mouth opens and his jaw tightens when he takes a bite, and another, and another until he finishes it.

“Don’t know why you pushed this aside, it was so good”

The corner of his mouth is full of tomato sauce and cheese grease, you laugh at him shaking your head.

“You have something… there” you point with your finger, Eddie furrows his brows and leans his head to the side looking like a confused puppy.

“Where? Here?” He wipes his mouth and smiles victorious, although it is the opposite side.

“No, here”

You get closer to him. His body is fully turned to the left so you sit in front of him kneeling.

He watches you getting close, he takes a deep breath as his Adam’s apple bobs as a result of his own nerves. You are too close, you’ve never been this close –just once when he hugged you – not even when you two are sleeping in your bed.

As you take the napkin to clean his face you get the opportunity to get closer, you wipe his mouth slowly and pinch his chin between your fingers. You breathe and he is mixing up, the room feels suddenly too hot.

Eddie wants to give in, he gets his head closer. He doesn't care about anything, just you. The only source of light is the TV which gives a shadow of multiple colors on your face, it’s adorable. Your body, your naked thighs, your pretty face so close. He is about to kiss you until you speak.

Shit.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot”

“How do you punch someone?” you ask, he shakes his head confused shaking off the thoughts he had earlier. He was so close to kissing you, but he couldn’t. You are his best friend.

“Wow,” Eddie laughs, grinning “Who do you want to punch, exactly?”

“I met someone”

Your news hit Eddie in the chest. He shouldn’t be feeling like this but he is… jealous?

“He told me to go to this party with him… and a friend told me I should be prepared for everything”

“Everything? Like if he wants to get in your pants you’d punch him?”

“Only if he is a real jerk and thinks he is too smart”

Eddie nods, he takes your hands in his standing up from the couch. You follow him.

“Alright, pay attention”

He drops one of your hands and takes your dominant hand in his, the cold rings on his fingers keep you from falling apart from his touch.

“The secret is in your hips and shoulders, that’s where the power comes from okay?”

“Yeah, but please don’t teach me how to kill someone. I just want to throw a little punch if needed”

“I know, peach” he laughs “Stand up like this” His stance looks professional, maybe he has done this before. Maybe to protect himself from his older brother.

“First things first, your stance gives you balance so you don’t fall to the floor and break your nose too y’know?”

“Am I going to break his nose?” you ask, a little scared of what you are getting yourself into.

“No! ‘M just saying. You don’t have a lot of strength to do that, don’t worry”

“Like this?” You mimic his stance, feeling a little awkward.

"Exactly. Now, focus on your fist” He hasn’t dropped your hand yet “Curl your fingers in, and tuck your thumb under them. This way, you won't hurt your hand when you punch”

“Why do I feel like I shouldn't be learning this?”

“You are fine, watch” Your hands form a perfect fist, Eddie holds it in his hands and tries to set you up on the perfect stance. Your knuckles turn a bit white as you focus on the lesson “See? Perfect”

“I got it”

"Now punch me,” he says, he is serious.

“What?”

“C’mon I’ve taken the worst punches, bet yours will feel light as a feather” he grins. Inside he feels dumb for aching your touch so much even if it means taking a hit “Twist your body and extend your arm in a straight line, then go straight to my cheek” his fingertip touches his cheek “Not my nose! Please” he remarks, but at the same time he is encouraging you.

“Alright,” you do as he says, swinging your arm back and forth. Your fist comes into contact with his cheek and he groans in pain, his head falls to one side.

“Jesus H. Christ!” he caresses his cheek with the palm of his hand “I underestimated you” A chuckle falls from his lips, and you are covering your mouth with your hands surprised. Your eyes are glassy.

“No, no don’t cry I’m fine”

“I’m so sorry Eddie. I thought- fuck, I didn’t see that coming! I am so fucking-sorry, sorry” you cry, your cheeks glow red as embarrassment washes over you.

“No, don’t” he is still laughing “Oh god, come here”

Eddie opens his arms and wraps them around your shoulders. This is the second time you hug him, and this time it feels different. One of his hands rubs your back to calm you down as you keep murmuring sorry. He keeps thinking you are the most adorable thing on the planet.

“Do we count this as tutoring? Am I getting cash for getting punched in the face?” he chuckles.

You bury your face in his chest, hugging his body tightly. He feels you trying to get closer.

“Yeah, yeah if you want”

“I'm joking, peach, you did good!”

You smile at the praise, although he can’t see it.

“Thank you for teaching me”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It was a pleasure” he breaks the hug, and his hands come to rest on your arms. He is not giving up touching you “I hope whoever you punch… you do it harder than this one” he smiles.

As you watch his face, hypnotized, you smile back.

“I will, only if he is a jerk…”

“Or thinks he is too smart, gotcha” he interrupts, filling up the rest of the sentence “But you know if someone bothers you, you can call me and I will kick his ass right?”

“I’m a big girl, Eds. I can take care of myself”

“That I see! ‘M just offering, You did good honey” He pinches your cheek, and the new pet name hits right above your stomach where your anxiety rests. He has never called you that before, you feel the heat on your cheeks.

“We- uhm, we should sleep is getting late” You watch the clock, it is 3 am already.

“Oh shit, yeah. Let’s go”

IV. I’m a mess but i’m the mess that you wanted.

Watching Eddie kissing Chrissy was a punch on the tits. His hands are on her waist, she grabs his jacket getting closer. Their mouths were glued to each other. You were sure this was the night, this was the night you would tell Eddie your feelings, but instead, you decided to meet up with the guy you told him about. Ignoring your feelings for Eddie.

Nothing ever comes out as you wish, after punching the guy for trying to touch your ass after he didn’t even know you were in his math class, you punched him. Your hand hurts, but it was worth it.

You try to find Eddie but he isn’t around. Ignoring the feeling in your chest, you decide to fill the guilt and the secrets with alcohol.

After a lot of refills, the living room’s bottles are empty so you make your way around the house to find more. That’s when you find Eddie, you take your sixth? seventh? Cup of the night and walk to him.

“Eds!”

Your voice is like honey to him, he didn’t want to be here but as soon as Chrissy mentioned you were coming with “the guy” he wanted to be there. She was nowhere to be seen after spending some time with him.

“I did it! I punched him!” you mumble, proud of your achievement and so, so drunk.

“Fuck, I missed it?”

“Yeah, I have been looking for you everywhere to tell you” You lie, you’ve seen him multiple times and ignored him. It was a decision that sober you took. Drunk you is a little more insistent “I didn't think you were coming”

“Chrissy wanted to be here, I'm just keeping her company… was, she left” he looks around, but she is still somewhere else.

Her name rings in your ears, your stomach crumbles.

“Well, let’s get drunk!”

Deep down Eddie is grateful that the guy you were meeting up with fucked up everything and now you are with him. Chrissy is nowhere to be seen and you seem like you need someone to watch you. Take care of yourself.

You are so drunk, your whole body feels light and your head is in the clouds. Maybe you are a little bit high too.

“Can we find somewhere more quiet? I wanna smoke” Eddie finds himself screaming, the music getting louder with the minutes.

“Sure, let’s go”

You hold a red solo cup with something in it, enough to make you more tipsy. You follow Eddie outside, to the porch. The night is hot and Eddie realizes your dress is too short. He takes a deep breath, looking at your thighs as you take a sip from the cup.

Eddie lights a cigarette and takes a peek at the party from outside, The window leaves a space so the warm light of the house hits your face. The night at your house, the one when he almost kisses you comes back to his head. A side of your face lit up by the chaos inside, yet you look so peaceful, so beautiful.

“I need more of this. I- shit I forgot the n-name” you slur your words again, taking a step forward. Eddie takes your wrist in his hand, stopping you.

“What the fuuuuck?” you say.

“I think that’s enough for today, let’s go home”

Your whole body is on fire, all of your insides begging for more alcohol.

“Home? What? I didn’t know we lived together!”

“C’mon, peach. You know what I mean” Eddie’s cigarette bounces on his mouth, his voice is firm and his free hand comes to cup your waist.

“No, no. Let’s go dance here” You take his hand, the alcohol makes you bold. He follows you to the living room after dropping his cigarette.

The music is too loud, you empty the cup you had and throw it away.

“I’ll be right back, need to take a piss'” Eddie says, disappearing. You don’t hear him.

His “girlfriend” is still ignoring him, but he remembers what she said. She got mad because he was looking for you, and she got jealous too. Chrissy wanted all the attention but Eddie was giving it to you.

He stopped eating lunch with her, he was with you instead. Talking about random tv commercials that you thought were clever, it was some of an inside joke.

As he comes back from the bathroom he hears a crowd cheering, he is so done with this party, tired of the happy sappy music playing over and over, and the smell of sweat and alcohol makes him sick. He makes an effort to find you and he does.

There you are, standing on the table dancing. You were dancing, making some sexual moves that all the guys were screaming. Your hips move as the music gets to your ears, the whole room electrified by this little show.

Eddie’s face goes beet red, he can’t take this. He isn’t enjoying this.

Jealousy takes over him and he grabs your hand, yanking you down and letting you fall on his shoulder.

He carries you away from the table, a hand comes behind your back and he places his palm on your ass in an attempt to stop your dress from going up. You feel the cold of his rings again, your whole body lights up in anger as he carries you outside.

“Let me down! Eddie, I'm not joking!”

“Whine for as long as you want, I’m taking you home”

“Eddie please, I'm going to throw up”

He gives up, he lets you down and you pick up your breath. You place a hand on your belly trying to steady yourself and make the nausea go away.

“I need a moment… just give me a–”

“No! I know you will go back inside. You can’t even walk by yourself”

“Yes, I can! Don’t- don’t try to babysit me” you bicker.

He lets out a deep sigh, he is not letting you go back and you know it.

He wants to protect you, but more, he wants you to be with him and not dancing and showing off for anybody else. Yes, he was jealous and it was time to admit it. His feelings for Chrissy were never as intense as what he feels when he is with you.

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t call me that!” you scream, his eyes open wide.

“Please just-”

He tries to hug you but you don’t let him.

“I'm not your sweetheart! The other day you called me like that too and I- what are you doing to me?”

“I don’t- fuck, what are you talking about?” Eddie is confused, you are acting like you don’t want him around, and that hurts him.

“I- I like you, Eddie! I fucking like you so bad but you… You don’t and I know it!” you have no time to breathe, the alcohol encourages you to confess your feelings.

“Peach-”

“No! No, I- I like you since that first day of tutoring… I’ve liked you since then and you don’t know how fucking hard it is to oh- sleep with you and you- almost fucking kissed me and I panicked. This, you, her- it’s too much ah- go away!” you cry out, your head is spinning and you can feel your temples aching.

This wasn’t planned, future you will kill you for this. But right now in the heat of the moment, you let Eddie know how you feel. Your whole body aches and your heart is shattered.

“I know you like her! Just- I don't want to talk to you right now!”

A salty taste lingers in your mouth, your tears. Your arms ache from the sudden cold breeze as the night gets darker. It’s maybe two or three in the morning. You are drunk and high. Eddie’s brain seems to stop working.

He is quiet, looking at the grass under his feet. It hurts seeing you like this.

“Fuck!” you turn around and start walking, thinking you can walk home from here knowing it’s impossible.

“Hey! Let me take you home”

You stop.

“Please, I won't stay. I’ll drop you off and go to my trailer- you can’t get home by yourself” he is right.

You don’t move. Too heartbroken to say everything else or even turn around to see him. You are ashamed, he can’t even look you in the eyes.

He sees you waiting for him and he asks you to follow him to his van.

The ride home is long and torturous. He didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but you don’t blame him. Who could fall for a mess like you?

You fall asleep in the passenger seat of his van, he opens the door carefully and carries you to your bed. He wants to change your clothes but he knows it is not okay, he does peek at your naked thighs before covering your body with the sheets.

His calloused fingers move the hair off your face “I like you too, peach” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead before leaving. You can’t hear him of course, he knows it damn well.

V. Deep fears that the world would divide us.

The last time you talked to Eddie was two weeks ago. He didn’t know how to talk to you since that night, he didn’t know what to tell you. It is now summer break, you are in your bed facing the ceiling and letting the air from your window hit your sweaty body.

You were so bored. Without Eddie it feels like the world just turned gray, you regret everything you said that night. He never should’ve known.

He is now in his trailer, maybe with Chrissy. Your brain starts to think of a hundred scenarios. They could be spending time at the local pool, going to starcourt and eating ice cream, trying on some new clothes, or playing at the arcade.

You miss him. Your whole body aches without him by your side. Your bed feels so empty.

Tears start rolling down your cheeks, you are all alone in this gigantic house. It doesn’t feel like home, not without him.

You can’t pick a book and read it to kill time because every book you own is about romance.

You can’t watch movies without Eddie’s sudden comments.

You can’t even watch fucking commercials without him.

So you just let yourself on your bed, waiting for the sheets to swallow you whole.

Night came by after a nap, it was time to close the windows to stop the mosquitoes. It was time to eat so you headed down to the kitchen, the leftovers seem to always keep you company.

You wish he came back. Knocking at your door and getting in. Kissing you.

It doesn’t happen. To you. But it can happen to him.

You take your keys in your hands and head down to the trailer park, it isn’t that late so you go by yourself. With your clammy hands tapping on the steering wheel and a feeling of uncertainty.

It takes you from ten to fifteen minutes to get there and you park your car close to Eddie’s trailer. You’ve given him a ride home before, you know where he lives.

As you get closer to his trailer you hear screams. The door of his trailer opens suddenly and makes you jump. A tall and slightly old man comes out of the trailer, his white tank top is covered with some blood.

No, no, no. You mumble under your breath and run to the trailer. You find Eddie with a cut on his lip, his eye is purple already and his nose is bleeding.

“Eddie?” you whisper, he panics.

“No, no you can’t be here” he gets up from the floor and places his hands on your arms, pushing you out.

“Why? Please I just want to talk”

“You can’t be here! He- if he does something to you I’m never going to forgive myself Please just leave” his breath quickens, and his chest rises up and down. He is nervous, he is scared. The feelings are contagious.

“Come with me, please. Eds-”

“Just fucking leave! please please please, leave right now”

Nothing you do is going to convince him you should stay, as much as you want to. You hear screams of an angry man getting close to the trailer.

Running out back to your car and driving home, the radio becomes an annoying background noise screeching. Your heart is beating so fast out of fear, and your hands are trembling.

You set yourself down on your bed once you get home. You are scared of what could happen to Eddie. You know he is in danger and you also know he doesn’t want to see you.

The tears come back, your eyes are blurry and the walls feel like they are closing in and are about to crush you. You cover yourself with the sheets, as some type of protection, just like when you were little and scared. Yes, you are scared now, so fucking scared. But there is nothing you can do now so you sleep, and you fall asleep crying, again.

VI. I'd kiss you as the lights went out.

The next day goes by quickly, it’s currently midnight and you are sitting in front of the tv watching a random documentary about dolphins. You’ve slept all day so sleep is not an option. A huge bucket of ice cream in your hands gives you a cold feeling of serenity.

A knock on the door makes you jump, the thing you’ve been waiting for.

You open it quickly, and Eddie is there. You look at him with sadness in your eyes, some of his wounds have healed since yesterday.

“Before you say anything… I am sorry, sweetheart” You don’t let him in, and he doesn’t take a step forward “I like you too. I like you so much. I tried to date Chrissy because I thought I could get my mind distracted by the fact that I'm crazy for you. "He licks his lips, he moves his hands in the air as he always does when he explains something or rambles about a thing he loves.

“I was scared to tell you, that night at the party I swear all I could think about was- fuck, I wanted to rip those clothes off of you and kiss every part of your body but I was fucking terrified” his chest rises up and down, his heart is bumping in his ribcage. “I didn’t want to say anything because

I didn’t want to lose you, You are too good to me and I didn’t want you to be with someone like me-”

“You don’t get to make that choice for me” you interrupt, your own heart is beating so fast it could burst.

“I know, I know. That’s why I'm here… is it too late to hang out? Look, I slept all day and some little bird named Steve told me the sunrise at Lovers Lake looks awesome and I really just want to be with you”

You look at him, he is standing at your door confessing his love to you and, weirdly, it doesn’t feel like a dream. It all feels too real, too peaceful.

“A date at midnight? Did you plan this because you look like you even showered”

He lets out a big laugh. You see those dimples you love so much.

“I- I wouldn’t see it as a date because I think we’ve had tons of them” he shakes his head, and his curls bounce with the movement. “Pretty please? Join me on this adventure”

“We must be connected by some kind of thread because I slept all day too” you chuckle, he laughs with you “Sure, I want to be with you. Let me change and I’ll be right back”

You head upstairs quickly as Eddie goes back to his van for something.

With the quickest movements in the world, you manage to get yourself some pretty clothes, a tiny bit of makeup and fix your hair.

Running to the first floor to meet Eddie, your legs stop working as he stands up in your living room with a bouquet.

“You did have this prepared” You are smiling so wide your cheeks start to hurt, but you can stop it. After days of missing him, he is now here and everything feels right.

“I did. You look- you look beautiful” he looks at you from the bottom to the top, taking every detail of your figure. “I mean, you always look so beautiful I just-”

You come closer to him, he hands you the bouquet and you take it.

“You are beautiful too, Eds”

Your fingers touch his cheeks, he feels the warmth and breathes in to take everything in. Your scent, your touch, the closeness. Your cheeks have a pink tint from blushing and it makes you look so pretty. He leans in and in a second, his lips are touching yours.

You gasp at the sudden feeling, your whole body electrifies. His hands come to rest on your lower back, keeping you close to him. Your hands travel to his shoulders as you stand on your tippy toes.

His lips trap your bottom lip, sucking in your taste. Your whole heart flutters as your head goes back to catch some air.

“I wanted to do that for so long”

Goosebumps travel from your arms to your lips, missing him already.

“Me too” you bite your lip.

“C’mon, let’s go watch the sunrise sweetheart”

VII. Deep blue but you painted me golden.

The trip to Lovers Lake in the middle of the night resulted in love confessions and a heavy make out session, Eddie packed the back of his van with christmas lights, sheets, and blankets along with some pillows.

You and Eddie sitting in front of each other, his lips crashing into yours as sweet as honey.

“So yeah- that time when you sat down and started tutoring me I fought so hard to pay attention but I just loved the sound of your voice” You take a sip of beer.

“It was hard to teach you when your confused face is just so adorable.

Every pout you gave me was a kiss I wanted to give you” Eddie laughs.

“You can give me all the kisses you want now, I'm all yours”

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, his face glows pink and you let out a chuckle.

“Honey, I will” he takes a sip from his own beer, finishing it.

Alcohol makes both of you giddy, dozy, and dumb. Or maybe it’s just the love you have for each other.

“What time is it?” you murmur against his lips, his hands travel from your waist to the back of your head.

“I have- no idea” he stops, with his head leaned slightly back he watches you. Your lips are puffy and pink, his too. Both of you have a maroon tint on your cheeks. “It’s almost six, we have time” he peeks at the clock on his left hand.

“Alright, c’mere” With your hands placed on his shoulders, you try to get closer to him.

You kiss him. He is addicted to your taste already.

This time the kiss is messy and uncoordinated. His teeth collide with yours, saliva drops from the corner of your mouth.

With a firm hand caressing your back, Eddie helps you fall back with your body pressed against the sheets. Your head rests on a pillow as he gets comfortable on top of you.

You can feel the van getting hotter, a cloud of passion and love around you. Eddie makes a quick move with his knee as it presses against your hot core.

Absent-mindedly you start to grind against his knee, feeling the combination of friction with his sloppy kisses sending chills through your spine.

His lips now travel all the way to your neck, he presses sweet wet kisses against your skin.

“Eddie-” you whisper, letting the air out of your lungs. “I want you”

You have been dreaming about this, he has been dreaming about this.

This moment. This very golden moment is going to live in your head forever.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your collarbone, his lips tingling your skin.

“I’m sure, please”

He takes a break from the kisses, looking at your sweet face.

“Have you ever…?” he asks.

“No,” you bite your lip nervously.

“I’ll take care of you, I promise”

You nod, and he returns to kissing your neck. One of his hands travels to your thighs, he gives a slight massage on them making his way closer to the heat between your legs.

His cock gets hard against his pants as he feels the wet spot between your legs.

“You are so soaking wet, peach-”

With both hands, he takes off your panties, gently. He is so gentle with you.

“And so, so pretty”

Eddie starts to rub your clit with his thumb, his circular motions make your toes curl. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before. With his mouth pressed against your jaw two of his fingers get inside you slowly, the pain of it quickly goes away and turns into lust. His fingers move in and out, making sure not to hurt you and make you feel good.

Your back curls and your thigh touches the bulge on his pants.

“Eds, please”

“What do you want, princess? Say it”

“I want you to fuck me”

Your voice makes his heart flutter. He leans in to kiss you more as he curls your fingers inside you.

“Oh god, Ed-Eddie” you mewl, your head too giddy to make up words.

“Good girl” his voice is now deeper, and his pupils dilate as his body perks up with electricity.

His fingers leave your pussy, you whine and he tells you not to worry.

He is gentle on taking your clothes off, smiling after admiring every inch of you. He wets his lips with his tongue admiring your figure.

“You are so fucking beautiful, princess”

“You too, baby”

The mood has clearly changed, you are still so horny and whining for each other. But Eddie has decided to take his time to make you feel like the princess you are.

Your hands help him take his clothes off, you admire his bare chest and your eyes focus on his tattoos. When he takes his pants and boxers off it is inevitable for you to take a look.

Your mouth waters at the sight. Eddie caresses your cheek and leaves small kisses on your lips as he goes inside you. You feel his hot cock

inside you, it twitches as you stretch and leave out a louder moan.

A grin shows up on Eddie’s face as he thrusts into you. Your nails scratch his back slightly. He feels his skin burn.

“Feeling good?”

“Yes, god yes”

He groans at the same time he increases the speed. Your moans get louder and he kisses your neck again, his bare chest meets yours and you whimper. He is moving on top of you, his cock inside you, and his chest rubs your nipples.

The tiny knot in your stomach untangles as chills go down your spine. You moan as your orgasm comes to you.

“You are such a good girl, go on cum for me”

His words are sweet, he keeps praising you as you finally come.

“So so good baby, I’m going to-”

He moves back but your hands are quick to tangle around his neck, not letting him leave.

“Do it, baby. Cum all over me”

Your encouraging words get into Eddie’s head, his thrust becomes sloppier as he relaxes and he comes into you as requested.

The hot sticky combination of cum slides down your legs as Eddie hugs you and pulls you to him to the side. His back is now pressed against the dirty sheets, your head falls in his chest.

He kisses your forehead and runs his hand through your back.

The sun starts to show up.

Eddie leans forward to open the back doors of his van, he comes back to his place next to you as quickly as possible and hugs you harder.

The lake glows with a yellow tint, the water now shows a baby blue color.

“I love you, sweetheart”

Surprised you turn your head to look at him, you give him a big smile.

“I love you too”

You stay there a couple of minutes, touching each other and loving each other.

there it is! my little baby. feedback is appreciated REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! and DON’T throw a punch like it has been described!!!

tagging everyone who interacted, tysm 💕

@ali-r3n @witchwolflea @ghostlyfleur @littlegingerbat @live-love-be-unique @expiredcum21 @emma77645 @silent-stories @hellfirenacht @eddiemunson95 @tenthmoon

#leia writes ⊹ ꒱#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female oc #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x f!oc #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x best friend

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theemporium · 8 months

Text

[2.9k] when your boyfriend is giving his piano more attention than you, you set out to remind him just where his hands should be instead. (smut)

based off this request

It was torture.

Pure fucking torture.

That was the only way to describe his current predicament, and yet, a sadistic part of him enjoyed it. He enjoyed it far more than he should have. He enjoyed it more than he ever thought he would. He didn’t even know if he wanted it to stop, even if his body was begging for it too.

The situation leading up to this moment was stupid, honestly.

Charles loved the piano and it was a fact known to everyone. Despite the love and passion he had for racing, it had become a source of frustration in more recent months—something the people close to him knew all too well. And even if he kept loving it, there was times where he needed to step away from the sheets of data and the SIM car set up in the spare room of his apartment.

There were times he just needed a release.

And, it came in the form of the piano.

At first, it was just a simple skill he decided to pick up in hopes that it would be a nice distraction from the endless hours he spent worrying about racing. Then, it became a hobby, a genuine interest to further the skill he had and become better. He was competitive after all.

Then, it became a way of expression.

The notes flowing as his fingers danced across the keyboard felt freeing. The way the instrument did exactly what he wanted when he wanted it was something he lacked in other aspects of his life in recent years. The compositions were something to be proud of, a mark he could leave on the world beyond his career in motorsports.

The piano became an outlet for Charles, something he became more reliant on in the last few weeks than he even realised.

And it left you as a very sexually frustrated girlfriend.

You loved Charles. There was never a doubt in your mind that you loved Charles. You loved and supported what he did, you encouraged him to express himself whether it be in words or notes played on the piano. But, something bitter and resentful bubbled inside you at the fact you were fighting for your boyfriend’s attention, and your competition was a fucking musical instrument.

It just became easier for him to vent out his frustrations in a wordless hobby, and you understood that. But you missed him.

You missed his touch and the way his fingers would glide over every inch of your body. You missed his kisses and the way they would leave you panting and breathless. You missed the way that when you were with him, you were his whole fucking world.

You missed your boyfriend’s attention just being on you, so you decided to teach him a lesson.

Maybe it was cruel. Maybe it wasn’t cruel enough. Maybe it was exactly what your boyfriend needed to remember the pretty girl he got to call his.

“I didn’t say you could stop playing, Charles.”

He let out a shaky breath, a shiver running down his spine as his eyes snapped down to the keyboard beneath him. His hands were hovering over the white keys, his fingers itching to move but his brain was blank. Every single coherent thought was lost and he couldn’t fucking remember how to play a chord, let along a song.

But you asked him to keep playing, and who was he to deny his girl?

Even if said girl was currently lying on top of the grand piano he bought a few months back, clad in some lacy number he swore he had never seen before as her hands glided over the body he should have been touching, kissing, loving.

“Play, Charles. Show me what you’ve spent the last few weeks composing instead of touching me.”

He cleared his throat, his brain scrambling to remember the song that flowed so easily for him mere hours ago. But now, all he could think about was the noises that you were making, that you sounded better than any song he could ever compose. He was thinking about how he could listen to your pretty moans for the rest of his life.

His fingers were moving, slower and less confident that he would usually play, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he watched you closely.

The slick, black wood beneath you was cold. It was cold and refreshing against your heated skin as you ran your hands down your stomach, your touch feather-light and teasing as you heard your boyfriend let out a strangled moan.

Your eyes were closed but you could imagine it so clearly. You could imagine the flush on his cheeks, the colour sweet and pink and a colour you wanted to pain the world. You could imagine the dazed look in his watercolour eyes, the same look he got when his head was between your thighs and he had no expiration on when he had to pull away. You could imagine the way his broad shoulders tensed, the stiff movements as he tried to grasp onto whatever self-restraint he had left.

“Cherie, please,” he whispered, almost too low for you to hear.

Your lips twitched upwards. “Play me your pretty song, baby.”

He was distracted, and his playing told you as much. He was distracted with the way your fingers glided over your nipples, the way they hardened beneath the lacy material you wore that barely covered them. He was distracted when your other hand slid lower down your body, as your fingers slipped past the waistband of your panties.

He was distracted by the small gasp that left your lips when your fingers pressed down on your swollen clit. He was distracted by the needy whine you let out as your fingers glided along your soaking cunt, collecting your arousal before you finally slid one finger inside yourself. He was distracted by the way your body squirmed and arched as you touched yourself, as you moaned his name with his broken playing in the background.

Charles was completely enraptured by you. He couldn’t fucking get enough of you. He didn’t care about the piano or his song, he didn’t care about anything other than the pretty girl fucking herself in front of him and the fact his cock was straining in the confinements of his boxers and sweatpants right now.

He needed you. He needed you so fucking bad.

“Let me,” he croaked out, his eyes locked on the way your back arched off the piano. “Let me make you feel so good, baby. I can make you feel so good.”

Your head turned to the side, your eyes fixated on his glassy eyes and pouty lips.

“Charles,” you moaned, your face contorting as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten.

“Please, baby, please,” he continued to beg, one hand dropping away from the keyboard to palm the length of his cock over his sweatpants. “Anything you want, let me give you it.”

You tucked your lip between your teeth. “Anything?”

“Anything,” he repeated breathlessly.

“Make me come, Charlie,” you whispered. “Show me what a good boy you are.”

The words had barely left your lips before his hands were on you. His fingers were digging into the fat of your thighs as he turned your body to face him, as he pulled you towards the edge of the piano until your panty-clad cunt was inches away from his face.

His fingers ran over the lacy material of the nightgown you were wearing before he pushed it further up your stomach, until it pooled just above your belly button. He looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours as he leaned down to lick a strip over your clothed cunt.

“Fuck,” you groaned as your head fell back against the piano, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue pushed against the material of your panties. “Charles—”

“I know, cherie,” he murmured, his words hot and breathy against you as his nose nudged against your clit. “I know, I know what my baby needs.”

“Thought you were my good boy,” you goaded, your hands fisting the material of your nightgown as his arms wound around your thighs to lock you in place.

“I am,” he mumbled, his eyes falling shut as he placed kisses along your inner thighs, the slight stubble on his cheeks scratching against your skin in a way that made you arch closer to him. “Gonna show you how good I am.”

The sound of fabric ripping was the least of your concerns as he tossed them away, the cool air hitting your exposed cunt for less than a few seconds before his mouth was on you. Charles loved being between your thighs, he could have spent his whole life between them if he got the chance.

And now, with your thighs squeezing his ears and the sounds of your pretty whines echoing through the room, he realised just how long it had been since he had found himself in this position. That between the countless meetings, back-on-back race weekends and constant travelling, that he hadn’t been giving his princess the love she deserved.

That he had been depriving himself of his favourite meal.

“Charles!” You cried out as his tongue sloppily lapped at your cunt, appreciating groans vibrating against you as your legs squeezed around him. You tried to clench your thighs together, only for him to pin your legs open again.

Charles was a starved man, and he was fucking devouring you.

The words leaving his lips were better off being incoherent to you. Phrases mixed between French and Italian that you didn’t quite understand, but it was hot as he lapped and licked and sucked and kissed every inch of your needy cunt until your thighs were soaked and you were certain that you were dripping down onto the keyboard.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whined, your hands darting down to entangle themselves in his thick curls he had grown out. He let out a needy noise from the back of his throat, one that had his fingers digging into your skin so tight that you were sure it would bruise in the morning, but you didn’t care. “Right there, baby, fuck! Feel so fucking good, Charles, so good—oh!”

Your nails scratched against his scalp as his eyes fluttered shut, as he groaned against your cunt until you were coming. Your body tensed and shook, your moans pathetic and loud and just the way he liked it. His name was like a mantra on your lips, repeated over and over like a prayer.

But Charles didn’t stop.

The swipes of his tongue were slow and lazy, but he didn’t stop even after you came. He licked up the mess he had made, he pressed your hips into the piano as you wiggled and squirmed under his hold. He enjoyed the dull pain as you pulled on his hair as he licked your wet thighs and needy cunt until you said the single phrase that could make him pull away from between your legs.

“Please, Charlie,” you whispered, breathless and whiny and greedy for more of him. “Need your cock.”

The noise that left his lips was some pathetic mix of a groan and a whine as he pulled away from you, his lips and chin glistening with your release as his tongue darted out for one more taste. He pushed himself up onto his feet, the piano bench now long forgotten as he quickly shoved his sweatpants and boxers down to his knees.

His hand slid up your leg, lightly slapping the side of your thigh until you lifted your head to look at him.

“Turn around, baby,” he murmured, his voice lower and gruffer than it was before. “Show me that pretty ass, cherie.”

Your hands were braced against the piano as Charles placed one hand on your waist, the other guiding his cock deep inside your cunt until he was buried to the prim. You let out a noise of content, the desire for the slight burn of his thick cock pushing into you eagerly fixed after weeks of craving him.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, a desperate noise leaving his lips as his head dipped down to press his lips against yours. And you let him kiss you. You let his tongue swipe over your bottom lip, you let yourself taste your release on his tongue as he deepened the kiss. You let him kiss you until your lungs burned for air and your body craved for him to move.

“Fuck me,” you whispered breathlessly against his lips. “Fuck me like you miss me.”

“I have fucking missed you,” Charles groaned as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. “Missed every single part of you, cherie. You’re fucking perfect.”

“Show me, Charles,” you sighed as your fingers gripped the edge of the piano. “Fuck me on this stupid piano and show me.”

Charles was a patient man. He was a patient man who had the tolerance and restraint that would make a saint envious. He was usually so collected, so calm and put together even in situations where he didn’t have to be.

But any semblance of patience was thrown out the window when it came to you, especially when it came to fucking you.

The room that was usually full of beautiful notes and passionate music was now replaced with the sound of skin on skin, slapping against each other and accompanied by debauch noises that left a pink tint to his cheeks.

He had one hand pressed against the middle of your back, keeping your tits and face pressed against the cool wood as he fucked you from behind. His thrusts were hard, his tempo was fast and you felt the coil in your stomach tightening faster than you ever had before.

He could feel the walls of your cunt clench around his cock, could feel the slick of your arousal staining his own thighs but he didn’t fucking care. His lips were red and raw from how hard he was biting down, his skin felt like it was on fire and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.

And yet, he never wanted to leave that moment.

The sight of you bent over his fucking piano, your ass jiggling with every snap of his hips and your nails desperately trying to dig into the glossy wood like you needed something to grip onto, like you needed a lifeline to ground you. The way you screamed his name, the way you screamed for his cock and the way he thrusted deep inside you, hitting that spot over and over again until you could feel him in your stomach.

“So good f’me,” he groaned as his hand groped the meat of your ass in his palm. “You were made for me, cherie, my perfect fit.”

“Charles,” you choked out between moans, but your boy knew you better than you knew yourself.

“That’s it, baby,” he whimpered. “Come for me, let me feel you. I wanna feel how good I make you feel, princess.”

The nickname wasn’t used often, but it was more than enough to tip you over the edge. The noises you let out were borderline pornographic as Charles continued to fuck you through your orgasm, as he leaned over until his chest was pressed against your back and his cock was hitting a new, deeper spot with every thrust.

His lips were on your neck, kisses placed on your skin between whispered French phrases of praise as he finally came, as he released inside you and felt your walls clench around him like you didn’t want his cock to leave you just yet.

You were panting and breathless, your cheek pressed against the grand piano as you let your eyes fall shut at the feeling of his gentle kisses and the soft touch of his hands all over your body. Your lips twitched as you heard him murmured ‘I love you’ over and over again in different languages until he needed to pause for a breath of air.

“Je t’aime aussi,” you murmured back, your pronunciation still a little dodgy despite the time you’ve spent dating the Monegasque, but it made him smile nonetheless.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured as he ducked his head down to kiss your cheek. “I love you more than the piano, you know that?”

You snorted. “Well, I sure hope so after that.”

Charles grinned. “Nothing could ever compare to fucking you, mon amour.”

You peaked a look at your boyfriend. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he confirmed.

“Not even round two?” You teased.

“Depends,” Charles murmured as his fingers pulled at the hem of your nightgown you were still wearing. “Do you have any more surprises for me?”

“I did a lot of shopping while you were gone,” you told him with an innocent smile.

His eyes darkened. “Cancel all our plans for this weekend.”

You raised your brows. “Charles—”

“We aren’t leaving the house,” he told you as he squeezed your hips. “We need to make up for lost time, even if that means fucking you on this damn piano in every single piece you bought.”

“We need to eat, Charles,” you murmured, though the problem sounded just as dumb as it did in your head when he grinned at you.

“I’ll order you food in.”

“And what will you eat?”

Charles’ smile only widened. “Jump up on the piano again and I’ll show you, princess.”

It was safe to say, neither your friends or family heard from you or Charles until at least three days later.

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jiniret-writings · 8 months

Text

Warm Blankets Pt. 3

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Platonic!skz x 9th member!Reader

Warnings: strong language, self-doubt, arguing, feelings of unworthiness (If I missed any warnings, please let me know)

The actions of the members in this story do not represent how they are in real life. This is all fictional and should not be taken seriously.

Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3

Earlier That Day

Tensions were high. With comeback so close and so many concerts and events to prepare for, Stray Kids barely had any time to rest. Your days were filled with practices, recordings, and even more practices. Four hours of sleep was your new standard, and even that seemed like a blessing sometimes. That morning was no different. You had woken up at 6am for an early vocal lesson, wanting to do something in your area of comfort before going for your practice with Chan.

You had been given a duo part with the Chan: something you had never done before. It wasn't that you weren't comfortable dancing with Chan. It's just that you never had a solo dance, always preferring to stay in the back for dance breaks. Vocals were your strong suit and you were more than happy being mostly heard and somewhat seen. When you were given the duo part, you were shocked. Seeing your expression, he just smiled at you and patted your head. "You can do it. I know you can," he said. You felt proud that he believed in you enough to give a part like that to you, so you practiced as much as you could, focusing on not just the moves, but making sure they were as perfect as they could be.

For the past few days, you had reached a place where you could be quite proud, but that morning something felt off. You went to your vocal lesson feeling nervous and tense. Your coach noticed and walked you through exercises to expel some of the tension, but you still harbored a feeling of unease. Still, you shook it off and walked to the dance studio. In the end, what mattered was how well you'd be able to dance and follow through on the moves. The choreo this comeback was more intense, but you were also more determined.

The choreo you had with Chan was short, but detailed. And that was where you were having trouble. You weren't a bad dancer, but it didn't come as easily to you as it did for others. It took time for you to really nail some parts. And that day, no one had the patience.

"No, you need to move them together, y/n. Together," Chan stressed, moving his arms and legs together in formation. You huffed in frustration, tired of running this same part over and over. Still, you listened and replicated what Chan did in what you thought was the right way, but he just sighed heavily in frustration, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head.

"I don't get it, okay? Maybe we just stop for today," you groaned, leaning against the wall. Chan just glared at you from where he was sitting on the couch.

"We can't just stop, y/n. You should've had this perfected two days ago."

"Well I don't, and clearly it's not happening now. Maybe if I take a break-"

"We don't HAVE time for breaks!" he yelled, suddenly getting loud. You gawked at him, surprised by the sudden outburst. You clenched your teeth, not wanting to yell back.

"Yes, we do. At least I do. Hyunjin has the practice room reserved after us. I can just ask him to--"

"He has his own practice! He can't babysit-"

"Babysit!?!" You couldn't hold it anymore. You got off your spot on the wall, going to stand closer to Chan. "I am not some CHILD that needs to be watched or whose hand needs to be held!"

"You're sure about that? You can barely extend a leg-"

"I'm trying to--"

"You're not trying hard enough."

"Bullshit! You're just looking for things to criticize about me!" you yelled, having had enough. You were tired and frustrated. You muscles hurt. Your brain hurt, and Chan nitpicking every muscles movement was not helping in any way.

"It's not like I have to look too hard, yeah? You're floundering around!"

"What's THAT supposed to mean?" you asked, taking a deep breathe and closing your eyes, calming yourself.

"YOU-"

"No"

"-IMPOSSIBLE TO-"

"Chan, we are-"

"-AND HOW CAN YOU-"

"THIS ISN'T GETTING US-"

"IF I KNEW YOU'D ACT LIKE THIS, I WOULDN'T HAVE FOUGHT FOR YOU TO BE IN THE GROUP!"

--a breathe--a hand on your arm--and silence

At the Studio with 3RACHA

Thanks to Hyunjin's text, Han and Changbin knew it was a no nonsense type of day. They both arrived at the studio early, having brought some snacks and drinks to get them through. They made sure to bring every essential they would need to make sure they had everything they would need and wouldn't need to take unnecessary pauses for anything. Han even brought heat packs and a blanket in case it got too cold.

The studio was tense. Chan was much more quiet during the session, only nodding or shaking his head for the most part. The track was complex. It was a ballad, but there were tons of small audio elements that helped it give off that "mala-taste genre" feel. Still, he wasn't satisfied.

Han and Changbin each took turns messing around with their soundboards and looking through their libraries, adding and taking away elements that were either too much or not enough. They even set up the mic so they could make more practical sounds, hitting couch cushions together or unlacing their shoelaces to get sounds that were unique and possibly get the sound-bites.

Chan was huffing more than usual, and as they separated to write lyrics, Han started texting Changbin:

Han: Channie-hyung sounds like a dragon Changbin: Don't you dare tell him that Han: I know! Just, do you know who he fought with? Changbin: I called Hyunjin and said it was y/n. Han: NO Changbin: Yeah, they're at the cuties dorm now Han: I wanna be at the cuties dorm Changbin: Han Jisung Han: yeah yeah I HEAR HIMJDBCJ Han: Nvm, false alarm ;)

When Chan walked into the hallway, he started pacing. Nothing was coming easy to him. Everything sounded wrong, looked wrong, felt wrong. His skin was itching and his hair felt so heavy he wanted to shave it off. He started pulling at his clothes lightly, trying to find a way to release this aching discomfort he felt in his abdomen.

And the fight

He didn't know why or how he could've said those words to you. With every step, he replayed that last moment over in his head: the words leaving his mouth, the way your face morphed to shock, Hyunjin pulling you away, your eyes filled with tears...

He had never seen that look on your face. It was betrayal. Pure, complete betrayal.

He remembers the first time he met you. You had entered the company just the day before, hope shining in your eyes. He had been a trainee for five years at that point. He knew the routine: new trainee's came in with hope, they practiced with all they had, and the with each passing month and each passing evaluation, the hoe drained. Each comment from staff or the teachers or even from the other trainee's left them tired. And in the end it either became too much and they left, or they debuted. And then the trials really began.

But you were a fighter. He met you on your second day at the company and you were filled wit so much excitement. You were in a group vocal lesson and your voice was far from mature. You needed work and the vocal coach did not hold back on their criticisms of you. But instead of letting it get to you, you pushed. You listened to the feedback nestled between their biting words and you implemented it. It had been a while since Chan saw that specific vocal coach nod their head in approval at someone they so brutally tore down only an hour ago.

You could've had a big head. Chan knew when he talked to you that you could have an ego the size Jupiter, but instead he was met with someone so incredibly sweet and such a joy to be around. You two had lunch together that day, and from then on, Chan knew he'd fight for you.

He couldn't have thought that he'd fight you like he did today. Sure, you've had your smaller arguments and your disagreements here and there, but it never got to the point where any of you said anything terribly hurtful. You loved each other, you were family. But the look in your eyes when he said the words that he knew would hurt you the most? His chest squeezed so tight he almost forgot how to breathe.

Chan shook his head, walking back to the studio with a bottle of cold water from the vending machine. He knew he needed to apologize, but he didn't know how. When he walked back in the studio, Han and Changbin looked at him with soft eyes. He could've cried.

He sat down and stared at his laptop. Next to him, Han and Changbin shared a look. They couldn't just sit and let this stew on any longer. Changbin had filled Han in on everything that happened, and they knew the sooner they addressed this, the better for everyone.

"Hyung," Han started, closing his laptop and leaning forward. Chan glanced up at him before looking back at his work.

"Yeah?" he answered, much softer then anyone expected. He was still looking down, but his hands had stilled.

"There's so much pressure on us to do well and there's so many deadlines to meet..." He paused, looking at Changbin, who got the hint.

"You snapped at y/n, and that was a dick move."

Chan's head snapped straight up at that. Changbin took that as a good sign and kept going.

"You need to apologize. And soon," he said, getting straight to the point. Chan just looked at him shocked, unable to get any words out. He knew he had to apologize, but did you even want to see him? Wasn't it too soon? Changbin and Han looked at him expectantly, wanting him to say something. Anything.

"I," he cleared his throat, rubbing a hand along his face. "I want to, but..." he stopped. But what? But they might not want to see me. But they might need some time alone. But they might want to take a break from everything but they might want to leave the group but they might want to disappear. Chan's thoughts fed him every scenario and conversation that might happen.

Finally, he looked down at his hands. "But they're with Hyunjin now, and probably with some others, and they might want time to cool off before seeing me," he said finally. He knew Hyunjin wouldn't leave you alone, so at least he knew you had someone with you.

"You don't have to talk to them now. Just apologize. And let them curse you out, it might make them feel better," Han said, giving Chan a small smile.

"Let them know you're here. And that you're sorry and didn't mean anything you said. You didn't mean it, right?"

"Of course I didn't mean it," Chan said. It was the one thing he was sure of all day. It didn't hit him immediately. But when he was watching you and Hyunjin walk away, it was like the words kept repeating in his head, mocking him.

If I knew you'd act like this, I wouldn't have fought for you to be in the group!

He shook his head, and he felt two hands on his back. Han and Changbin had moved right next to him and were looking at him with understanding and care. I don't deserve them, he thought. He laid his head on the table for a few seconds and took some deep breathes. He deserved to be punched and yelled at and told to go fuck himself, but instead he had two of his members comforting him.

"You can wait until tonight. The others are with y/n/n now. But you should apologize before they go to sleep," Changbin said softly. Chan nodded and smiled at the two. They patting his back and went to go sit down. He'd fix this. He had to.

At The Cuties Dorm

When you fell asleep on Felix's shoulder, he gently stroked your cheek with his finger, wiping away the faint tracks your tears left behind. You nuzzled into his finger and clutched onto his arm tighter. Cute he thought.

Minho and Hyunjin walked back to you all and, seeing your sleeping figure, lowered the volume of the TV and looked at your bedroom door. Looking at Felix, he just nodded and moved aside so Minho could pick you up and move you to your room. Felix went to your shared bathroom and took all of your skincare products to your room, setting on your bedside table.

"Besties don't let each other sleep with makeup on," he said quietly, balancing everything in his arms. It was something you would say whenever you all got back from a late-night schedule. You never let him go to bed with his makeup on. So if he was too tired to take it off, you'd finish your skincare routine before going to Felix and doing his. And so you two had a routine: if one was too tired to take their makeup off, the other would do it for them.

When Minho tried to lay you on your bed, you refused to let him go. Your arms stayed clutched around his neck, and your face nuzzled deeper into his chest.

"Okay," he whispered, crouching down to try and place you on the bed again. "I'll get in with you, okay? But I need to put you down first." He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake you any more than you already were. You groaned lightly but your grip loosened. As soon as you were on the bed, he got in next to you. He put arm around your head and you hummed in contentment.

As soon as Felix set everything down, he turned on the little bedside lamp and got to work, getting rid of any makeup still left. They thought you were still awake but that train of thought was interrupted by a small snore. Minho and Felix looked at each other and laughed quietly.

"Long day," Felix said. Minho nodded, just patting your hair and keeping it out of your face. Minho knew about the hate comments you were getting and how much they were actually bothering you. He walked in on you crying in a practice room and your phone had been open next to you. You put up a strong front in front of everyone, but it hurt.

Ever since, when things got bad, you would hand him your phone. It was a silent message: I need a break, I'll be practicing all day. And he'd just nod, give you a hug, and let you go. This time, a small hug wouldn't do. Comments from random strangers on the internet hurt, but comments from the inside burn.

He looked down at you now, peaceful expression on your face, and sighed. He knew Chan would come to apologize and that it would hurt again, but to heal a burn you have to let it sting first.

Almost like the very thought of him summoned him, the doorbell rang. Minho looked at you again, not wanting to let go. But he gently moved his arm from under your head, gave you a small kiss on your head, and went to the kitchen where he saw Chan standing in front of everyone.

Han and Changbin came with him. Minho couldn't see his face, but the grip Changbin had around Felix's shoulders seemed like he was trying to hold the younger member back. His suspicions were confirmed when he came closer and took one look at his face.

"y/n/n is asleep," Seungmin said, leaning against the counter. He didn't look mad, just tired. In fact, they all did (except Felix who was never able to hide his malice). It had been a long...this pressure had been building for too long.

Chan looked at your bedroom door, left slightly open by Minho. All the determination he had on the walk over had left him. All the anger and stress was gone and replaced with intense regret. "Can I?" he asked, nodding towards the door. Jeongin nodded at him, standing on the other side of Felix and putting a hand on his shoulder. He had dropped the glare but disapproval was coming off of him in waves. Chan understood the feeling.

Walking in, he took one look at you and took in a deep breathe. You were curled up on your side, clutching a pillow to your chest. Your breathing was even and every few seconds you'd let out a little snore that made him laugh. Chan put a hand on your cheek and you immediately nuzzled into it.

He teared up and took another breathe. "You are so talented," he started whispering. "You work so hard and try so hard in everything you do. Without you, we aren't Stray Kids. I am so so sorry I made you think something that wasn't true," he continued whispering, not wanting to wake you up but still wanting to get the words out.

But you were awake, having woken up but the sliver of light let in by the open door. You didn't open your eyes, afraid that you'd lose your courage the moment you looked at the person who was like your big brother.

"It hurt," you said quietly. Chan's voice caught in his throat and the pressure in his chest grew. "I know you were stressed and frustrated but it hurt. A lot."

"I know, y/n/n. I know, and I am so sorry. I never should have let my frustration hurt you like that," Chan choked out. He wanted to hug you but he held back. He leaned down, getting on his knees beside the bed so he could be at eye level with you. Your eyes were still closed but you could feel him looking at you, closer than before.

"I never meant to say it. I swear, fuck, I swear on everything that I am that I didn't mean those words for even a second." Chan was crying now, but he said every word as clear as he could. The thought that you thought of yourself as less-than deserving to be in the group and that you were hurting because of him made him feel like pulling his heart out. "This group wouldn't be compete without you. Every day I see you work I am so proud of the performer and the person you've become. I-" his voice caught again, and the tears came much harder. He turned his head away, wiping relentlessly under his eyes.

A few moments later he felt a hand on his arm. Looking over at you quickly, he saw you. Your eyes were open and tears were coming out at the same speed his was. Your lips were wobbling and when you opened your mouth to speak, the only thing that came out was a choked sob. Chan's own sob mirrored yours.

You jumped out of bed and crouched right next to Chan, hugging him tight. At your touch, Chan cried harder, pulling you close and holding a hand to your head.

"I didn't want to disappoint you but I-"

"There's no 'buts' y/n/n, you could never disappoint me. You did so well today and I was just too in my ass to see that," Chan said, holding you tighter.

"You really were an ass," you sobbed out, crying louder. "But I forgive you just please be patient with me."

"I will. I promise I will. I'll be patient and help you through whatever you need and we'll take breaks. And when it gets frustrating, we'll separate and come back after a few minutes and I promise to never, never, talk to you like that again."

The two of you stayed on the floor, crying and apologizing and making promises that you knew would be kept even when the sun rose.

Together

Felix had a real talent for baking. When the two of you emerged intact and together, they knew all was well. Felix was the first to break, giving you both a hug and punching Chan in the arm, holding back so it wouldn't hurt too much.

"We warmed up the cookies and brownies, and I added some sprinkle hearts on the cake," Felix said, walking back to the kitchen. You smiled, taking Chan's hand and following him.

"There's nothing late night sweets can't heal," Changbin said. Han just nodded along beside him, cheeks stuffed. You smiled, squishing one of his cheeks, unable to resist. He half-heartedly tried to bite your hand, making you laugh louder before sitting down next to him, putting a head on his shoulder. He responded in kind, putting his head on top of yours.

"Hey, is that a rat on the cake?" Han asked, trying to discern the shape Hyunjin drew. The artist in question gasped.

"Excuse you! A RAT?!? My cat is not a rat!"

"If you made Dori look like that I'd punch you," Minho added.

"Hyung!" Hyunjin whined.

You giggled and tried getting up to get some cookies but Han pulled you back. "Nuh-uh, you're not moving anywhere," Han said, putting a cookie to your mouth. You rolled your eyes, but chewed, sitting back contently. Chan put a plate of cake and brownies in front of you, ruffling Han's hair, earning him a bite too.

The next hour was filled with stories from the week, laughing until people started falling off chairs, and good food. When the night started catching up to you, you looked at the time and saw it was 4am. Everyone was laughing at a joke Changbin and Seungmin were telling and you smiled.

My members, you thought again, feeling warm inside.

You went off to your room, laying in your bed, letting the laughs lull you to wonderful dreams, but it wasn't long until suddenly Hyunjin yelled, "Where's y/n!" and suddenly you could hear eight pairs of feet running to your room. They rushed in, looking at you in bed, and you were smiling tiredly.

"I'm sorry, I was just tired," you said softly. Changbin cooed at you, coming over and flopping on top of you. You grunted, feeling squished, but it wasn't too bad.

Until the seven others followed, piling on top of you one by one. You sqeaked, surprised by the sudden added weight of eight guys. Everyone was moving around, trying to find a way to get comfortable until finally, they all settled down. Hums of contentment and happy sighs were heard all around.

Knowing it would be useless to fight it, you just relaxed and closed your eyes. And with your members wrapped around you like a warm blanket sleep and sweet dreams came easy.

Thank you so much to everyone who has read this little series and showed it love. Every comment was so sweet and I am genuinely so thankful for everyone who read this! I hope you liked the finale as well! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. And as always, have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night!

-Jini

Taglist: @armystay89 @lauraliisa @changbinisabigboy @lusimpss @laylasbunbunny @neyangi @hibs8 @lovelmh @viagiraffe @briqnne @unfwairs @silentreadersthings @strawberry31 @emily505 @beomgyu-stan-present

Divider made by: @cafekitsune

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 month

Text

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.6K]

THE TIMELINE

"Oh, won't you stay, just a little bit longer. Please let me hear, you say that you will, Say you will."

- Stay By Maurice Williams and The Zodiacs

IV. MOUNTAIN LAKE, VIRGINA: 1963

The man in front of you was not part of your vacation plans. He was half naked, sweaty, annoyed and scowling. The man in front of you was a stranger.

Except he wasn’t.

Was he?

You knew his name by now, something you’d only learnt on Monday, or perhaps the day before. Steve, Steve Herringbone or Barrington or something. He didn’t like it when you called him Steven and he certainly didn’t like it when you argued back.

But this was supposed to be a getaway, a small summer break where you could maybe sneak a smoke by the lake when everyone had returned to their cabins and the geriatric morning yoga was done. Except your dad knew the owner of the summer retreat, a huge house settled in the Virginia countryside, the forest greener than it was back home. Bauman’s Mountain House was host to many golf courses, a fencing team, seventeen rowboats, an archery club, the best water aerobics in the state and an award winning dance show.

The very latter included the man in front of you.

Tall, broad shouldered and tanned from the summer, Steve Harrington was handsome and painstakingly so. Brown hair that he always tried to tame by pushing his hand through it, brown eyes and too many freckles to count. He wore a gold chain around his throat, black slacks and a leather jacket on his days off, driving around the resort in a BMW that made too much noise, but he didn’t seem to care.

He cared even less about his bad reputation and loud ways when his partner broke her foot weeks before the final show, a tiny girl called Nancy that you were unreasonably jealous of at first sight. You watched them both on your first night, sat between your mother and father as they took to the stage, dancing flawlessly, fluidly, like they were one whole person. You watched the way she touched him, an easy familiarity that had your stomach feeling unsettled and something inside of you burned when her hand brushed the man’s neck, holding onto him as he dipped her low, her fingers trapping two little moles and hiding them from sight.

You’d blamed the cheap cocktails and called it a night.

But then your father found him arguing with Mr Bauman about the show and suddenly you were volunteered against your own volition, your parents talking loudly and proudly about talent shows and dance lessons when you were much younger, boldly exaggerating about how must’ve been a dancer in another life as you shook your head and tried to escape back to the gazebo by the shoreline.

Now you were left spending your evenings with Steve Harrington and his tight trousers in a cabin that was much smaller than your own. There was a leak in the corner, a consistent drip from a missing nail in the roof and rainwater splashed against the wooden floor as if it were counting down the seconds.

As if it were counting down to— something.

It had rained every night since you had started seeing Steve, the stifling afternoons giving way to humid evenings that always started to smell like rain by six o’clock, sweet tea and lemonade taken over by the scent of a new downpour. There had been threats of storms, chattering of it during breakfast in the main dining hall, grumbles of it from groundskeepers during bowling on the green.

But nothing wild, not yet.

Steve had scowled the entire time he was with you, minutes and hours spent with a frown on his face as he did his best to avoid touching you, mumbling something about getting the timings right, about learning the steps and the footwork before putting it all together. It was tedious now, repetitive and too warm in his small room and even with the bed pushed to the wall, there was barely space to avoid brushing up against him when you moved.

You were flushed, skin shining with a thin layer of sweat and the same sheen made Steve’s lips look glossy, his hair sticking to his forehead in curls and flicks. You rolled your eyes when he hit rewind on the tape deck, a silent order for you to take it from the top. But you didn’t move as he made quick work on his buttons, undoing them one by one until his short sleeved shirt hung open, showing off far too much skin. Lean muscle and a smattering of hair across his pecs, more skating down the line of his navel and you sucked in a breath, pretending you hadn’t stood on your own foot.

“It’s too fuckin’ warm,” he complained, circling you as he spoke, watching you for more errors, inspecting your footwork, your posture, the way your held your head up and squared off your shoulders.

“No shit,” you couldn’t help but bite back. “How’d you think I feel?”

You wore denim shorts to his black slacks, but your cotton T-shirt was sticking to your torso now, the baby pink material too heavy and restricting for the heat inside the cabin. You pressed your lips together and moved, eyes on the wall ahead of you, your right foot moving in front of your left before you twisted your hips half a turn and—

“Take it off, then.”

You blinked, your framework going slack as you dropped both your arms and your jaw. You were hardly prudish, but something about this man had set you on edge since you’d first seen him. An electrical buzz every time you looked at him, fizzing through your bones, an invisible string tied to your insides pulling and pulling and pulling you closer. You’d ignored it until these dance practices, always turning in the other direction, putting the entire resort between you both.

But now… now?

He was standing all of three feet away, cheeks flushed from the heat and his chest on show, his hands behind his head and his fingers buried in his hair in frustration as he stared at you. Like he was challenging you. The muscles in his arms were flexed, taut cords and lines that showed off how hard he work at his job and you couldn’t help but stare.

“What?” You demanded it, a bite of an answer.

“Your shirt,” Steve nodded to the pink material, brows raised like it were obvious. He almost rolled his eyes. “Take it off.”

Above you, the rain outside fell a little harder, a consistent din against the thin roof.

You didn’t say anything. You just hoped you didn’t lose your cool as you reached for the hem of your t-shirt, untucking it from your shorts. The cotton stuck to you uncomfortably, dragging against your skin as you raised it up and over your head, the brief second where your eyesight was blinded a terrifying prospect.

Was he looking? At you? Was he watching? Did he care?

By the time you’d balled up the offending fabric and tossed it in the corner, Steve had turned his back to you, pressing some buttons on the tape deck until the song - some kind of mambo - played for the beginning again. You couldn’t see his face but you wondered if he’d caught sight of your bra, as plain as it may have been. White cotton, thin with scalloped edges and a tiny pink bow between the cups. Hardly sexy, nothing near scandalous, but there was certainly a lot more skin showing now.

Slick, damp skin that you wondered if he’d touch. It was like he wasn’t allowed to, the way he skirted around you all of the time, his hands shoved into his pockets when he wasn’t demonstrating the next step, a fist pressed to his chin as he watched you repeat his instructions, a wide palm always hovering just out of reach of your lower back when he scolded you for slouching, like he’d went to put his hands on you - only to pull catch himself at the last second.

“You gotta loosen your hips,” Steve’s voice interrupted your thoughts as he turned back around. His eyes were on the floor before he finally dragged them up your legs and over your bare stomach. He sucked in a breath. “You’re too rigid.”

“You told me to hold my shoulders,” you retorted, knowing fine well that he’d bitched about your ‘noodle arms’ for days.

“Yeah, your upper body needs to be squared off. Hold yourself tight from here up,” Steve gestured to your waist with the side of his hand. He didn’t touch you, but you could feel the heat radiate from him. “But from here?” He tapped at the button on your shorts.

You froze.

“From here down, you need to put a bit of swing in the hips, alright?” He spun, putting himself behind you but you could see him in the mirror that leant against the cabin wall, an old looking thing that was too ornate to be here. Once gold, it had carvings of cherubs on the frame, tiny wreaths and rosettes intertwined with ancient style busts. “It’s a mambo, sweetheart, put a little heat into it.”

The tape begun again and Steve leant against a dresser, arms folded across his bare chest, his open shirt plastered to his skin. He watched you, waiting. The intro played and you counted the beats, nodding your head to each note and before you could hit the mark. Thunder rumbled somewhere outside and you were suddenly reminded of a man that looked like Steve, standing and watching you like that in a room much smaller than this, lit by firelight, dressed like a fighter.

“You missed the count,” Steve sighed, exasperated.

His hair had been longer, his face bruised and bleeding, but it looked just like him. A familiar scene, like you’d maybe seen it in a movie, but it felt more like a dream you didn’t recall having. You looked down at your feet, chest heaving, lips parted in confusion and you were only more dazed when you saw your bare legs and not the long skirts you expected. Your body didn’t feel like yours, not really.

Like it was borrowed, or broken.

You turned, facing Steve as if you expected him to be dressed differently, in leathers and studs and pleats, but he was still the same, just looking at you as if you’d suddenly fallen ill. Maybe you had.

“Drink some water,” he ordered, and yes, that sounded like a really good idea. “Then we’ll go again.”

You chugged the bottle, the water tepid and hard to swallow but you gulped it down greedily, praying against heat stroke or whatever else it could be that could be plaguing you with such hallucinations. You swiped at your lips and closed your eyes before you turned back to the boy and when you did, he looked the same as he always did.

Annoyed, tired, pretty.

“C’mere,” Steve said briskly, crooking a finger at you. You stepped towards him, unsure of what he was asking you, lingering awkwardly with a few feet of space between you. Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus, I mean— here.”

He touched you then, his hand reaching out to grasp your own as he pulled you forward, closer than you’d ever been. There was barely space for a prayer between you both.

You thought that his hand in yours would’ve made you feel something, a spark, a fizz, that buzz that you felt in your bones around him. But something else settled over you instead, a strange familiarity, a longing for a home you didn’t know or didn’t remember, like Steve touching you was hardly anything new. His touch made you think of the sea, of vast gardens, of islands and storms and great wars, ruby wine and promises that seemed impossible to keep.

From the unsettled look in Steve’s eye as he stared down at you, you thought that maybe he felt the same thing.

But then he was fussing, moving his feet into the right position and mumbling about your stance. His hand took you with him as he moved, less than an inch separating your bare stomach from his and you let him direct you as he pleased, waiting for the song to reply from the top. The drums began, a cacophony of instruments you’d never be able to name joining in.

And then Steve was counting, his eyes suddenly fixed on yours as he nodded to the beat. “And five, six, seven—”

Steve’s other hand was on your waist.

His palm felt huge, big enough to envelop your side and his thumb was pressed into the soft of your belly, just below your ribcage. His fingers were splayed out over your bare back, his skin warm against your own and you’d never felt so completely consumed by just one touch. You were reminded of white sheets and hazy mornings, the taste of fresh bread and an open window that looked out to blue skies and you could hear a fountain spraying water.

But you were moving before you could consider it, what it meant, what it was, if it was possible to have someone else’s memories trapped in your head. Steve moved and you followed, your feet chasing his step by step as he walked you back and forth, his hips turning into yours on each beat, his shoulders set and his chin held high, ever the professional.

“Don’t look at your feet,” he murmured, barely heard over the music. “Chin up. Look at me.”

You didn’t know how to tell him it hurt to do so, how looking into his eyes this close felt like giving in, it felt like being stitched back together without any medication. You had never been aware of any wounds in your body, but this man you barely knew seemed to fill the space very well.

So you did, holding your breath until your chest burned, your eyes meeting Steve’s as you clasped his hand in your own and gripped his shoulder, letting him lead you around the cabin floor. The storm raged on, louder than before, more threatening now, like it was arguing, fighting, scolding.

The rain poured harder and what little evening light there had been was now dampened, the setting sun hidden behind navy and violet coloured clouds - but the heat was just as oppressive. Steve turned you, a twist of his body that led into yours as you spun on your toes, and when he caught you— when he caught you, his hand moved lower, slipping down your overheated skin until his fingers grazed the denim waistband of your shorts.

Maybe he saw you falter, maybe he saw your lips part, but Steve sucked in a breath and kept moving, his chest brushing your own as you stepped into his space as he danced into yours, torso meeting, separating, meeting, separating, meeting—

“Keep count,” he reminded you. “Keep counting the beats.”

You nodded, Steve’s face startlingly closer than before, as if he’d forgotten his boundaries, the box he created with strong arms, the one that kept him professional as a dancer, standing tall and strong. Now his elbows were bent, his hand falling from yours so both of his palms could bracket your hips and it was too much, it was everything you’d ever wanted, it was something you felt like you’d once had.

You just couldn’t remember who had taken it away from you.

Lightning lit the cabin, the storm over the resort, the sky black.

“Remember your hips,” he whispered, and god, god, his forehead was almost touching yours, his nose drawing a line against your own as his eyelids dropped and his lashes fanned his pink cheeks. His hands guided your waist, moving you from side to side, following the rhythm. “Listen to the beat.”

You were sure he meant the music, but it was impossible to ignore the thud of his heart against your own chest. You could feel yours even more so, a constant drumming that seemed to seep into your bones, making them crack at the edges, something blooming between them, something new and old and familiar and exciting.

Like driving into your street after a long vacation, like falling into your own bed after too many weeks away, smelling the laundry detergent that clung to everyone else that you loved. It felt hopeful, like the beginning of the morning when the only thing that had entered your thoughts was the way the sun looked in the sky, how pink it was, how the clouds seemed softer than the day before.

Steve pushed at your hips, holding them as you swayed from side to side, your hands leaving the safety of his shoulders to slip up, holding the sides of his neck, the heat of his skin scalding your palms and he nodded, pupils blown wide and lips parted as he stared down at you in amazement, like he was seeing you for the very first time.

Like he was seeing you for the first time after a very long time apart.

“Good,” he told you softly, like he was still teaching you, like this was still professional. Like he hadn’t put his hand on your lower back and obliterated whatever wall someone else had built between you. Something that had once seemed so strong was knocked down so easily, like not even a god could keep it between you. “Good. Like that, just like that—”

He swore when you moved closer, emboldened by his pretty eyes and the way his gaze tracked down your chest, down your bare stomach. His fingers flexed on your hips, blunt nails tattooing your skin and you hoped the marks would stay there, you hoped they’d be there tomorrow so you could remember that this wasn’t a dream.

His leg found its way between yours, the song finally slowing to the last few drumbeats and you knew this was the time where you were supposed to spin in Steve’s arms and raise your hand in a grand finish. But Steve tucked your hips close to his instead and let his thigh push into the seam of your denim shorts.

The song that came on next was slower, lazier, languid.

The singer had a deeper voice, the drums rolling with a dirtier beat and this wasn’t the mambo, this wasn’t a salsa and it certainly wasn’t anything you’d do in a ballroom never mind on stage in front of others. You’d seen this kind of dancing once before, the night after you first arrived at Bauman’s. You hadn’t meant it, but a walk along the lake after the sun had set had led you to a larger cabin at the back of the resort, where the lights were on and the music was loud.

Music like this.

A guy at the door with long curls and an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips had appraised you, one eyebrow lifted at your little white summer dress and tennis shoes.

“You work here?” He’d asked and you had shaken your head, ready to walk back the way you came. “You a snitch?” He asked after a pause.

Again, you shook your head ‘no’ and listened as the music inside got louder. The man, who you were sure you’d seen on stage during dinner, playing the guitar for the dining guests, just shrugged. He’d nodded to a stack of beer crates at the side of the building.

“Grab a case and keep your mouth shut, alright?” He’d opened the door for you, the music louder than ever, the smell of smoke and weed and sweat pouring out. You remember how’d he grinned at you as you took in the sight. “Have fun, princess.”

It’s where you’d seen Steve for the second time, in the middle of a makeshift dance floor with the bow tie and dinner jacket he’d worn during his evening performance long gone. Moving with a girl with his shirt buttons open, his hair a mess, grinding and manhandling her in a way you weren’t sure you would even call dancing. Everyone was doing the same, hips gyrating, skirts too short, men’s chests bare, the smiles meeting in an almost kiss.

It was nothing short of scandalous.

You’d left, dumping the beer on a table beside a watermelon that almost rolled to the ground in your panic, turning from the crowd and walking out the way you’d came. The curly haired man had snorted at the sight of your wide eyes, calling out a goodbye between laughs.

And here you were, not even two weeks later, doing the same, if not worse. Why worse? You and Steve were alone.

Thunder cracked again, louder than before.

It didn’t feel wrong to be doing this. In fact, for as much trouble as you’d be in if your father had had to catch you, everything about it felt right, like you’d done it before, like this man was yours to touch. But something that felt like danger lingered in the air, a threat far more serious than your dad or Mr Bauman.

But still, you let your body move with Steve’s, a slow grind of your hips into his and when your hand found the nape of his neck and your fingers twisted into his hair, Steve’s palm cupped your ass, pulling you into him, making you feel how affected he was.

It should’ve scared you. How this man was touching you, this person you barely knew, alone in a cabin and who you were so sure had hated you only a mere ten minutes before. But Steve looked as gone as you felt, eyes filled with longing, a passion that was visible, his brows knitted together as he stared down at you hungrily, lovingly, adoringly.

It was almost too much to bear. So you let your head fall back, body slack as you kept dancing, trusting the man to keep you upright and against his own chest and you heard Steve let out a breath at the sight of your exposed neck, the long line of it offered to him like a sacrifice.

“That’s it,” you heard him murmur. “You feel the beat now?” His words fell on your throat, your bare skin, the top of his nose drawing a line from the base of it to your jaw, his mouth following and you were so sure he wasn’t talking about the music anymore.

But you nodded, clinging to him when he dipped you backwards, his hands holding you like you were precious, like you were made of marble and gold and suddenly you felt like Steve could’ve been. Like someone had taken a piece of the earth and grown this man from it, just for you. Like he had something ancient in his bones, like whatever he was made of you, you were created from the same thing too.

When he pulled you back up, effortless and graceful, you were closer than before, impossibly so. Chests meeting in the middle as you both panted into each other's parted lips, noses meeting and foreheads touching. Steve’s hands were curled around your waist, fingers splayed across your naked back as if he couldn’t bear not to touch every part of you. Your hand was on his neck, your fingers brushing over two moles on his tanned skin, the ones you’d watched Nancy touch before you.

But as you pressed your fingertips to them, your lips buzzed and Steve let out a sigh, like you’d unravelled a knot in his spine, like you’d found a magic button that fixed him. Like you’d touched a place that you’d once touched before.

“You’ve never touched me before,” you whispered, voice cracking on each syllable because it suddenly was too much.

Steve looked pained, lashes fluttering as his gaze dropped to your lips and he struggled to find the right words to give you. “I— I shouldn’t be doing it now,” he murmured. “I’m not allowed.”

“Why? Because of your boss? My dad?”

He grinned, a smirk that faltered too quickly and he shook his head, still not moving from you, his nose nudging yours as he struggled to keep himself from shifting closer still. “You’d think that should’ve been enough to keep me away.” Steve licked his lips and you tracked the movement, so sure that he’d taste like summer and salt and the peach tea from the diner. “Not even the threat of losing my damn job and house can keep me away from you.”

His words had an effect on you, breath hitching, chest aching. “Then who said you’re not allowed?”

The song was still going, a lazy beat that was easy to sway to, Steve’s leg still wedged between your thighs and his hands were wandering, sensual and slow, a whole other kind of dance over your skin. Fingers gripped at your waist before one hand trailed down your hip, over your bare thigh, ghosting over the line of your torn off shorts. He brought your thigh to his hip, hitching your leg high, pressing you both together until you could feel him all, until he could feel all of you.

Laid bare enough for you to feel like he could take the very soul of you from your body.

You found that you didn’t mind the idea of it at all.

“You’ll laugh at me,” Steve murmured but he didn’t sound embarrassed at all, like he didn’t actually believe that you would.

You shook your head, nose brushing against the tip of his and if you moved another inch, just one, you could’ve been kissing him, mouth slotting against his. “I won’t,” you promised.

“I started having dreams when you came,” Steve told you. “Dreams where it always rained and the sky was always dark. And there was a man there, a thing, maybe. But he felt ancient, older than the fucking world and he told me to stay away, to keep away from you.”

You didn’t laugh. No. No, in fact, you didn’t say a damn thing.

Steve laughed, breathless and without any humour, and his hand trailed back up your thigh as your leg dropped slowly to the floor. He spun you both, lazy and languid, but the world around you both still blurred. The cabin faded away, a mix of the low lights and the colours of his quilt on the bed.

You could barely hear the storm, but god, it was the loudest it had been.

“I want to do ungodly things with you,” Steve confessed and he sounded pained, his throat tight with the same kind of emotion you felt, like you were both sharing the same heart. “I want to do ungodly things to you.”

“Steve--”

“I know it sounds crazy, but there’s somethin’-- somethin’ in the sky or in the goddamn cracks of the earth that’s telling me I shouldn’t.” His bottom lip grazed your top one, an almost kiss, a whisper of one, a mere idea of it. Hardly a touch. “That something real bad will happen if we do.”

You couldn’t explain it, just like you couldn’t explain your sudden proximity to the man, the achingly familiar closeness you felt. But you knew, somehow, some way, Steve was right.

Tears stung your eyes, a fiery nip that you tried to blink away and when the music slowed to a stop and the next song began, Steve kept moving, your body melted to his, no space between either of you to be able to determine where you ended and he began.

Your voice cracked when you spoke. “What should we do?”

Steve took a breath before he answered, one hand coming up to push against your hairline, his palm coasting down your cheek, holding you, cherishing you. His touch was hot with adoration.

“We can keep dancing.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot

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lettuce-seize-the-day · 2 years

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watching glee and crying for some reason? actually a lot of reasons

#shut up hanna #for one. how much i love performing and how much i miss it rn #for two. how scared i am if i have what it takes to do this or not #and if ill even get to find out. or if i am gonna actually be permanently disabled from my injury #and im crying about how unfair that is that i may not even get to fight and find out if i have what it takes #bc i think i do. but not if i have a physical disability. i cant do the schedule of a professional theatre person #with a brain injury! thats what we found out here #and im PISSED OFF crying that im at a dance intensive at the biggest dance festival in the country #and i have barely taken classes. classes that are FREE FOR ME.#and when i do go i have to sit out for half. for the fun half.#bc its like. the second half of class just when i start to not feel well is also when they start doing the intense combos #and im SO MAD bc i KNOW i could kill it and get SO MUCH BETTER doing it!!!#but i can't because i cant turn and i cant jump and i cant whip my head around and i cant throw my body on the floor #and i can't dance that close to other ppl in an intense combo bc its not safe bc my coordination and reaction time is still off #i am devastated and im pissed off bc ive fought so hard and worked so hard to get here and i cant do it. like Literally cant #and im crying bc idk if ill ever have this kind of opportunity again. and im supposed to be networking and im just #that girl that barely comes to class and has to sit out when she does. great impression.#its so unfair. its so unfair. how hard ive worked and how i had to fight and save to get here #and being here with these rich kids whose parents paid for dance lessons their whole life and they get to be dance majors #and their parents pay their summer tuition here. or they have a full scholarship that isnt a workstudy bc theyre good enough bc they had it #and the agony i went to get here next to them. just to not be able to participate. im just so upset its so so so fucking unfair #and i know lifes not fair but jesus christ like. why did god give me this passion and drive just to smack me down a million times #im sad and im PISSED and im scared. mostly im just scared.#also. im crying bc my head hurts. ive always been an ally for disabled ppl but i never Got it until now #and i still fully dont bc i can still do so much and i have a chance of full recovery. but i am disabled now and indefinitely #and it. fucking. sucks. so. bad. and everyone forgets and everyone gets annoyed and frustrated like it's something theyre dealing with #all these years wanting nothing more than to dance and i couldnt and now ive worked to get here and in the room. and now im injured #anyway yeah im fucking sobbing i feel like a burden and a disappointment to everyone and i hate being stuck like this #and you know what?? im probably depressed bc im not dancing!!! and i dont talk to or see anyone anymore!! and i dont have my cat #so. why am i even still here. the answer is that my airbnb is nonrefundable and i still want to take whatever class i can

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storiesfromafan · 2 months

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Dance Class 101

A/N: I come baring more fruits of my labor haha. Or rather this was a silly story I started a new nights ago after 11pm. It just spiraled from there.

Might do a part two. See what happens.

Also, forgive some of the informal wording. I blame being Australian lol.

Pairing: Mattheo x Slytherin Fem!Reader (more pining?)

They say school is meant to be a fun experience, learning new and usually useful things. And in any other House in Hogwarts, that would be the case. Unfortunately, for Slytherin fun was not a word Professor Snape knew, or rather despised, squashing all light in any room he was in. Currently in The Great Hall, during the Slytherin’s scheduled time for dance practise for the upcoming Yule Ball.

All attending students in Hogwarts were expected to participate in dance classes. So here you were, with your group of misfits. As your house all took seats around Professor Snape, who looked to be out of his comfort zone, you couldn’t miss those around you whispering to each other. Which was shortly lived when Snape ordered silence. Of course, everyone shut their mouths and sat up straight.

“Firstly, I detest that I have to teach you all to dance” Snape began, his voice sharp with authority. “But you all need to have some sort of formal etiquette for a ball. So, I am…forced to instruct you”. Ah, how that must have hurt to say.

There were sniggers and giggles at Snape’s words, which he called for silence again and got it quick smart.

“Secondly, I will remind each and every one of you that you will be representing Slytherin at The Yule Ball. So, I do not wish to hear of any of you acting in any way to lower our House” Snape stood proudly and rolled his sharp gaze over every student. “You are Slytherin. We are a proud house, do not sully it”.

Mattheo, Theodore and Lorenzo; whom were all sitting before you, started to snicker. Which you stopped with a slap to each of the back of their heads, just like any mother. Mattheo turned back with a glare, to which you smiled at before gesturing for him to turn back around and focusing on Snape.

Back to the lesson at hand; dancing 101. The girls rather giddy, the boys wanting to run from the room. Snape uncomfortable. And the female Professor being his dance partner wishing she had done something better with her career. All in all, this was to be some kind of afternoon. Starting off with two Professor’s stiffly demonstrating The Waltz. How the student population bearing witness to the scene before them kept themselves in check was a mystery. Alright, not entirely a mystery but more not wanting to cop Snape’s wrath for laughing. Plain and simple.

Finally, it came time for the observers to move to practical. Reluctantly all students rose from their seats, shuffling about and pairing up awkwardly. You stood looking around the room trying to pick out a dance partner. You didn’t want anyone who was handsy or flirty, nor did you want someone who has two left feet.

“Looking for me?” asked an all too familiar cocky voice behind you.

Turning around you found Mattheo standing there confidently. Oh, you will enjoy knocking him down a peg.

“Oh no” you replied off handedly, “I’m looking for a less pompous ass to dance with”.

He shot you a glare.

“Then you must be looking for me?” Questioned Theodore stepping up and slapping Mattheo on the shoulder. “Sorry mate”.

You looked to Theodore with a blank look. “Sorry, nor am I looking for his partner in pompousness either”.

Mattheo laughed shoving Theodore. “Tough luck, mate”.

Theodore shot his friend a dark look. “Hey, at least I didn’t get rejected first”.

That sobered Mattheo, and both boys glared at the other before turning back to you.

Thankfully that was the moment Lorenzo stepped in and swept you away. “Sorry lads, she was waiting for me”.

You laughed as Lorenzo twirled you both around. Alright, he won. “To be clear I wasn’t waiting for Lorenzo, but with that save, he has earned his place as my dance partner. Sorry”.

Lorenzo laughed as both Mattheo and Theodore shoved the other before shuffling off to find other partners. Which wouldn’t be hard. Every girl in this school would give their soul to get close to Mattheo, he was the Slytherin heart throb after all. And Theodore had his own club of fans too. So, they would be fine.

But a part of you regretted rejecting Mattheo. Blame the two-year crush on the curly mop head, who had just partnered up with Daphne Greengrass. The way she smiled at him as she placed her hand on his shoulder while he stepped closer, it made you sick to your stomach. Not to mention your blood boiling when she laughed at something Mattheo said.

“What are you growling at?” Questioned Lorenzo, before turning you both to see what held your attention. “Ah, I see”.

“Ah, I see? You see nothing” you retorted defiantly, turning away from the nauseating and infuriating scene.

Lorenzo shot you a knowing look. “Please (Y/N/N), I’m not stupid. I’ve known about your affections probably before you even came to terms with them” he chuckled, while you pouted.

“I repeat, you see nothing. End of story”.

Lorenzo spun you around, making you see the pair across from you both, before turning you away again. “It’s alright, I am not offended I’m not the eye of your desire” he poked your side. “But Theodore owes me a butterbeer”.

You swatted Lorenzo’s shoulder. “Don’t you dare say a word! Ah, of nothing that isn’t true” you sputtered, attempting to deny your crush.

Lorenzo brought you close. “Your secret is safe with me (Y/N/N). Mum’s the word”.

You one hundred and ten percent believed Lorenzo. Out of the three, he was more the voice of reason. While Mattheo and Theodore were Dumb and Dumber. But to be clear, you did not think them dumb, far from it for they could be evil geniuses if they applied themselves. They were goof balls that didn’t always read a person before opening their mouths.

Once everyone was paired up, Snape called for attention once more. Taking the proper stance with the female Professor, Snape instructed all students to do the same. Lorenzo stood comically tall, with a snooty look on his face while holding out his left hand out to you. Following his lead, you mirrored his stance and look, before dramatically placing your right hand in his. He then placed his right hand on your waist, pulling you closer forcefully. You couldn’t help it; a snigger came from your lips as you placed your left hand on his shoulder. Yes, Lorenzo was the smart choice. Laughter was the best way to forget about Mattheo and Daphne.

While you were having fun in Snape’s dreary presence, Mattheo was watching every moment just now. A wave of jealousy washing over him as Lorenzo pulled you close and received a snigger. Sure, he could see you were both goofing off. But he hated it wasn’t him you were having fun with.

Mattheo acted aloof, and teased you, but it was to hide the feelings the boy had for you. Out of all the girls in the school, you were the first one to become his friend. Never flirting or going shy. Being your unapologetic self through and through.

The friendship he had with you was what made it hard to have feelings for you. Your friendship was something he treasured, and he didn’t want to ruin it. For if he lost you, Mattheo would be devastated. But he also disliked seeing his two mates’ taking your attention away from him and having fun without him.

“Hey, Snape’s talking” Daphne whispered, drawing Mattheo’s attention from you and Lorenzo.

Snape proceeded to instruct and show you all the basic steps for The Waltz.

“Male’s lead. Starting with your left foot, you are going to step forward” Snape began. “Females follow. Starting with your right foot, you are going to step back”.

All students followed Snape’s instruction. This is where many partners learned that the person, they paired up with couldn’t tell left from right, forward and backwards. Which lead to some soft laughter and angry comments.

You and Lorenzo didn’t need to worry. Both of you were coordinated. Comically, but smooth, you did as instructed. As well was Mattheo and Daphne.

“Next” Snape commanded, silence fell once more. “Males, bring you right foot forward and to the right, then close your left foot next to your right. Females, bring your left foot back and to the left, then close with right foot next to your left”. Snape of course demonstrated this movement for everyone.

Once again, coordination was a flower that didn’t grow in many gardens. While you and Lorenzo were flawless. Along with Mattheo and Daphne. Finally, everyone was at the same step.

“Male’s, step back with your right foot. Females, step forward with your left foot” Snape instructed doing as he said. “Males, bring your left foot back and to the left, then close your right foot next to your left. Females, step forward with your right foot and to the right, then close your left foot next to your right”.

Once more everyone followed the instruction and demonstration. Happy to report, this time there were more coordinated students. You followed Lorenzo’s lead, and once more you were both flawless in your movements, prompting you both to smile at the other. Mattheo and Daphne not far behind you both, just as flawless.

Snape pulled away from the female Professor, like he was slightly burned by a flame. “That is the basic steps for The Waltz. I will now give you time to practice the steps together before music is introduced, and we work on timing to tempo”.

Both you and Lorenzo chuckled at Snape, before getting back to the task at hand. Taking position, you both did the step’s Snape had instructed. Once the first square was done, you both continued. Eventually feeling comfortable with the steps, the snooty comical sides came back. Dramatically doing the steps. And soon you had a small audience of the students around you. They laughed and softly cheered. With the final steps to close off the square, Lorenzo spun you out and you both theatrically bowed and curtsied.

“(Y/L/N) and Berkshire!” Called Snape. “Knock off the nonsense”.

You both quickly moved back into position and went back to dancing properly. Neither wanting to face the wrath of Snape. But flashing each other a smile, you enjoyed the silliness.

“Real smooth, getting on Snape’s radar” Theodore commented, moving closer to you both. “Best to stop the shenanigans”.

“Oh? Jealous Nott?” Lorenzo asked with a smirk.

Theodore laughed. “Far from it mate. I don’t want Snape on my case”.

He was right. No one ever wants to be on Snape’s bad side. So silently you and Lorenza agree to pull back on the silliness and take it all a bit more seriously. But it was so hard when this type of dance was boring, and so would the music.

After some time, Snape brought attention back to him, and proceeded to teach the next part. And let’s just say you thought many of the students lacked coordination before, it was ten times worse when music was introduced. Yet in yours and Lorenzo’s case, you both weren’t too bad. At first there was some miss timed steps and even stepping on his foot, but after the first square, you both got smoother and flowed nicely. Even getting praise from Snape.

Unfortunately for Mattheo, his partner took longer to grasp timing with music. And not to mention the amount of times Daphne stepped on his feet. Yes, she managed to step on both multiple times. Eventually she got better, but not quick enough before Snape called an end to dance class. Many students sighed and silently thanked who ever had been listening to their pleas.

Walking out of The Great Hall, you and the three boys headed for the nearby courtyard to relax after an eventful dance lesson. Lounging around under a tree you all recalled moments of the class, from the good, the bad and the tragic.

“I don’t know how that woman could have danced with Snape” mused Theodore. “He’s so wound tight”, he proceeded to sit up stiffly, making you all laugh.

“Bet she’s rethinking her career choice” mused Lorenzo, again making you all laugh.

“I gotta know, what was it like dancing with Daphne?” Questioned Theodore lighting a cigarette. “No doubt you made her day, as she has the biggest crush on you”.

You tensed at the question, and Lorenzo saw it. He gave you a soft look, showing his concern. But you just gave him a small, sad smile.

“It was alright, I guess” replied Mattheo, not noting your silent conversation with your friend. “She’s not that graceful, my feet are witnesses to that”. He laughed shaking his head. “But she wasn’t bad to be with”.

You all joined him in laughter, only yours not as strong as your companions. That last sentence he spoke hit you. Could Mattheo like Daphne? Surely not, she was lack-lustre compared to other girls.

“You going to ask her to The Yule Ball?” Lorenzo asked, side glancing you to gauge your reaction. He wasn’t doing it to hurt you, he wanted you to know if you should get your hopes up or not.

Mattheo snatched the cigarette from Theodore while thinking over the question. Did he want to ask Daphne to The Yule Ball? No. Did he want to ask you? Yes. But the two parts of him were at war. He wanted to ask you, take you because your company was all he needed. But then, the other part of him said you probably wouldn’t go with him, you’d want to go with someone else. Someone you fancied.

“Maybe…” Mattheo thought taking a drag of the cigarette. “See what happens”.

Theodore laughed. “Don’t wait too long to ask her, or any girl really”.

Now it was you who laughed. “Oh please Theo. Any girl who is asked by either of you would say yes. They would even dump their date to go with any of you”.

It was true. You knew from all the gossiping girls; they have all said it at some point. They would dump their date, even their boyfriend for any of your three friends. And you had a front row seat to watch Mattheo with some other girl. You wish you could say it didn’t bother you, but that would be lying. For every flirtation, every flavour of the month killed you to bear witness too.

Theodore scoffed. “You sound jealous my dear (Y/N/N)”.

You laughed dryly. “Oh please. Me? Jealous of you lot? Ah, no”.

“I think you are” retorted Theodore sitting up straight. “Jealous we’ll have hot dates, while you will end up with someone lower on the food chain, or no date at all”.

Both Theodore and Mattheo laughed, though Mattheo’s was forced and to hide his true feelings. Which was his dislike for his friends’ words.

You felt anger rise in you from Theodore’s words, your cheeks flushing in annoyance. Deciding it was best to remove yourself, you got up from your spot and straightened out your uniform.

“I find your words to be hurtful and callous. So, what if my date end’s up being less than any of you? Does that diminish their worth? What makes you an excellent judge on that?” you retorted with slight venom. “And if I was to go dateless, what about it? It’s not mandatory to have a date”.

Theodore looked up to you, a smirk on his face. “No, it is not mandatory. But people would look at you like you’re pathetic, practically a leper. Am I right Mattheo?”

Your nostrils flared from Theodore’s brazen words, before your heated gaze was on the mentioned boy. You watched Mattheo closely, silently hoping he would disagree with Theodore. That he would stand up for you.

Mattheo swallowed. He knew this was it. “Sorry (Y/N/N), Theo’s got a point”.

As the words rolled off his tongue, each word scorching the appendage, did Mattheo regret those words. He hated himself. And the hurt look you gave him just about killed him. He was about to correct himself before you said your goodbyes and took off.

“Good job idiots” Lorenzo sighed throwing a rock at both his friends, before taking off after you.

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x fem!reader

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godidontevenknowwhat · 2 months

Text

Missed Lessons

Tonowari x Metkayina!Reader (Romancing Pandora 2024 Day 6 - Heat Cycle)

A/N: Later than I had hoped but it is finally complete, my magnum opus, my first Tonowari fic

Sequel now posted: here

Tagging: @eywaite @neteyamsyawntu @pandoraslxna

Synopsis: Tonowari placed an incredible amount of trust in you when he asked you to assist him in teaching the Sully family the ways of the Metkayina. He placed the reputation of the clan on your shoulders. When he finds out from his son that you didn't show up to Jake's Tsurak training with no explanation and no sign of you at your Marui the concern of your friend mixes with the disappointment of your Olo'eyktan. That is, until he manages to catch a whiff of your scent leading from your Marui.

Fic Includes: NSFW so MDNI, bullshit about the Metkayina culture that I made up heavily using Māori culture because there's not a whole lot of information on the Metkayina but I know the Māori culture was a big inspo for them, reader being in heat, random lore about heat cycles that I will not be expanding on, no reference to Ronal but Ao'nung and Tsyeria exist so it's up to you, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, oral (fem receiving), p in v, creampie, breeding kink, I'm feral for him I stg, 3.8k words

You and Tonowari had been close throughout your lives, spending your childhood days running across the warm sand of your home Awa’atlu. You had passed your rites together, became adults in the eyes of your clan together, danced around the fire after drinking too much kava made from the fermented, sweet fruit that could only be harvested from the swampy inland of your home. So when the time eventually came for Tonowari’s father to step down as the Olo'eyktan, you were the one to crush the rare shells that you’d painstakingly collected together and fashion them into a beautiful, glisting paint that sparkled when the light of the fire hit it and the one to paint the delicate swirls and waves of ceremonial importance onto him all the while berating his skxawng ass for not sitting still.

Tonowari trusted you with his life and everything in it. So, when the winged creatures of the mountains far to the west arrived with a family of na’vi hailing from the Omatikaya, your eyes were the first he met and it was your nod of approval that solidified the Suli family’s place at Awa’atlu.

It had been a quarter of a cycle since that day and the clan had become well adjusted to the family of forest people, leaving Tonowari to gradually withdraw from training Tsyeyk Suli and give more attention to his duties as Olo’eyktan once again. A discussion between the three of you ended with Tonowari granting you the responsibility of training the once great Toruk Makto in his efforts to learn the ways of the txampay taronyu (Ocean Hunter) and more importantly how to master the riding of the viscous Tsurak, a milestone all Metkayina must meet while passing their rites.

Teaching Tsyeyk became a daily task of yours, one that you excelled in if his progress was anything to go by. In fact, if you pushed him enough, Tsyeyk might go as far as to say he’d made more progress with you than with Tonowari himself and you took an incredible amount of pride in that.

Your clan observed a special community kinship, sharing duties equally based on talents and specialities. Whakairo (Carving), Raranga (Weaving), Tā moko (Permanent Marking/Tattooing) and Txampay Tìtaron (Ocean Hunting) being the most respected. Every adult in the clan contributed what they could and shared responsibilities amongst themselves.

In the many cycles Tonowari had known you, you were not a person to skimp on your responsibilities. A skxawng? Maybe. But Eywa herself couldn’t drag you to the lows of disappointing your clan. You knew for a fact that being so close with Tonowari meant that your actions and reputation reflected on him, so when the warm tones of the evening sun began colouring the sea and Tonowari was assisting the late returning tarpongu (hunting party) with distributing their catch he was surprised to hear his son calling his name.

“No one has seen her today”. Despite the irritation bubbling inside him by the fact that you had left Tsyeyk with no help for the day, concern for you itched under his skin and forced him in the direction of your Marui to check for you himself.

His concern for you only increased when he noticed your privacy coverings were still pulled shut and when he entered your home only to see it a complete mess it was all he could do in his power not to yell for you like a wild man. Your belongings were rifled through, strewn across the floor. Your portion of the community meal laid untouched near your sleeping mat, it had been long enough that the uneaten food was congealed and filled his nose with an unpleasant smell.

Taking a deep breath to try and scent you through the overwhelming smell of rotting food he was able to catch a faint trail of your distinct scent leading from your home, a strange, staggering sweetness clung to the inside of his nose as it mixed with your usual smell. It clouded his senses, made an unfamiliar prickling sensation appear along the back of his neck and spread down his spine all the way to the base of his tail that swayed with unease.

As Tonowari followed the trail of your scent through the humid, dense mangrove forest of your village he thought back to the last evening meal, were you even there? Did he actually see you engaging with the clan at any point? If you were there, how could he not have noticed that something was clearly wrong? Wrong enough for you to disappear for almost a full day.

Bile churned in his gut at the thought of something awful happening to you because of his nonobservance, blaming himself immediately for whatever state he would find you in.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and the back of his neck despite the cooling air of the evening, the loose curls that cascaded his back in a delicate waterfall were beginning to stick to his slick skin.

Taking another deep breath of your scent, Tonowari was able to follow the trail to the edge of the water where it suddenly dispersed, indicating to him that you’d gone into the water. It wasn’t until the first spits of rainfall began to hit his skin, the cool shock breaking through the cloudiness that seemed to have settled over his mind the moment he smelled that strange sweetness to your scent, that he realised just where he was and where you would most likely be.

In your teen years, before he was Olo’eyktan, before either of you had even begun to think about your Iknimaya, you’d gone exploring. Past the swampy inland together, through the mangrove forest and to the edge of the water at the other side of the island. You’d quickly spotted a rocky outcrop in the distance and before he could convince you it was time to turn back you’d already dived into the water. He remembers rolling his eyes, calling you childish, hiding his real feelings about how pretty you were with water clinging to your lashes and slicking your hair back before jumping into the water with you. You spent the night together camping in the hidden beach of the outcrop, laying by the fire and talking about your futures. It was the night you promised to paint him for his ceremonial induction as Olo’eyktan when the day came, picking an iridescent shell out of the sand and vowing to make the paint yourself with the shells from your special outcrop.

Hanging his heavier, more ornate items of clothing over a branch after he removed them, Tonowari feels a literal and metaphorical weight lift from his shoulders. How long had it been since he’d been here last with you? Surely before he became Olo’eyktan, before his life became an endless cycle of being the most important person in the clan, weighed down by his duties, responsibilities and the representative clothing that he still didn’t feel he carried like his father once did.

Left in his tewng with his knife still sheathed at his hip and his songcord blending into the heavy leather fringe, Tonowari runs his thumb over the small shell you gifted him so many cycles prior before diving into the water and making the swim to your outcrop.

Tonowari took care to enter your space slowly, if you were injured or ill then you’d most likely react to his presence negatively. Entering the cave of your outcrop, he feels the water of the sea begin to dry against his skin as the lit fire inside warms him.

Taking a deep breath of your scent, Tonowari finds it almost unbearably strong in this area, the strange sweetness clinging to you is stronger here too. It’s thick in the air and it makes an unfamiliar ache radiate through his kuru, trickle down his spine and spread throughout his body.

His jaw ticks in thought, he’s never reacted like this to your scent. Never reacted like this to A scent at all.

A deep, rumbling hiss rips through the air. Vibrating through your vocal cords in a warning grumble that makes Tonowari’s hand instinctively reach for his blade, his fingers barely brushing the hilt before he’s knocked off his feet. His head throbs with the collision on the sand but the sensation can barely push to the front of his mind through the pulsing of his heartbeat in his ears and the feeling of your burning hot skin scorching his own.

Your pretty eyes don’t hold their usual warmth as you glare down at Tonowari and the cool, sharpened tip of your knife threatens his Adams apple, for a moment he’s convinced that you aren’t even aware of who he is from the way you’re snarling at him until you speak.

“You should not be here! Skxawng!”

The harsh tone of your voice echoes through the mist that your scent placed over his mind and his earlier irritation boils up again tenfold.

“You would hold a knife to your Olo’eyktan?”

“To my Olo’eyktan? Of course not. To the Skxawng that followed me out here though?”

Tonowari snarls at you, a noise you’ve never heard in the cycles you’d spent together. It’s so out of character that even Tonowari himself looks shocked at the authoritative noise before his expression hardens once more and he pushes you off of him, sending you back on your ass in the sand with your knife dropping with a thud beside you.

Your ears drop back uncontrollably, a whimper slipping out before you can stop it at the way Tonowari stands over you. You’d seen him shout, yell and berate people before that deserved it and it had never caused a reaction like it was causing from you right now. If you were in your right mind, not overtaken by the swirling intensity of your heat, then you would have had more fight in you.

Tonowari immediately notices your subdued nature and takes a chance to properly look at you. Your hair is unkempt, loose from it’s usual neat updo, your skin is flushed with such a deep colour that he worries for a second you may be suffering from sun sickness before he notices the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

Your breath is quick as Tonowari looks at you, every second around him is harder for you to get through and the heat in your gut is burning hotter than the fire lit beside you.

“Y-You need to leave Tonowari. You cannot be here.”

Tonowari’s eyes drop to your clenching thighs and it finally clicks for him what is happening to you, maybe he really is a skxawng. His irritation, the heat burning him from the inside out since he caught your scent, the odd sweetness clinging to your scent even from such a distance creating a fog in his mind. It was all because of your heat.

“Your heat? How is your heat here? It is not mating season and you..”

An irritated hiss rips out of you uncontrollably and you glare at Tonowari with whatever fierceness you can muster when all your heat riddled brain can tell you to do is submit to this dominant presence.

“What? I am unmated? You think I do not know that? Why else would I have come out here by myself?”

Getting to your feet quickly you busy yourself with brushing the sand from your body that clings to your sweat slick skin.

“You could have come to me for help. Or the Tsahik”

“Do not be ridiculous. What good would that have done?”

A growl of frustration leaves Tonowari’s lips and it takes all your remaining strength to stay on your feet and not immediately fall to his but the tell tale signs of your submission show themselves anyway. Your ears drop once more, your head bowing forward and your eyes refusing to meet his. Your fists clench with defiance but you can’t hide how Tonowari is only making the effect of your heat worse.

Your slick is flowing uncontrollably and it has been since you picked up Tonowari’s scent coming towards you. The truth was that your avoidance of group meals and your duties was purely due to Tonowari and his lingering scent being present in every part of your village. Even your own Mauri.

“You need to be filled”

Your eyes roll back in your head at the thought, almost going braindead over the image that plagues your mind of Tonowari sitting you on his fat cock and plugging you full of his cum.

“Do not be so crass, I will survive without it. I would be doing just fine if you hadn’t shown up”

The waver in your voice makes Tonowari take a step towards you, he sees your ears twitching and listening for his movements but you make no move to stop him so he takes another and another until he is directly behind you.

For a second there is silence and he basks in it, it reminds him of your simple shared childhood, when you could be with each other from sunrise to sunset without anyone bothering either of you. He thinks to himself that if he’d never been born into this family of his, if he’d grown to be a simple fisherman or weaver instead of the Olo’eyktan then maybe.. maybe the courage to approach you like this would have came without a push from nature and maybe, just maybe, you would have been his long before he’d had children with another.

Tonowari clears his throat and it startles you for a moment before you feel his large, rough hands settle themselves on your waist. The sensation of his skin against yours so purposefully forces a gasp from your lips that you can barely convince yourself was meaningless.

“Perhaps.. I really am a skxawng like you say-”

“You know I don’t mean anything-”

“Mean anything by it or not, it’s all you call me by anymore.”

Shame burns in your throat and your eyes sting with the prick of tears as Tonowari continues voicing his thoughts to you.

“Maybe I am a skxawng.. but I have never, ever questioned the will or the way of Eywa.. and I know in my heart you have not either.. so to end up here, your scent enticing me and finding you in heat despite being unmated I..”

A fond smile spreads across your face as you listen to Tonowari speak, cycles and cycles of being Olo’eyktan had taught him how to speak to crowds and how to speak to the clan but yet in this moment he was reduced to the mild mannered boy you used to know.

“Perhaps it is Eywa’s will..”

Tonowari sucks in a breath at your words, waiting for you to accept or deny his thinly veiled confession.

“And who are we to question Eywa?”

You gasp as Tonowari spins you to face him, a giddy smile spreading across your face to match the one on his own. Tonowari smashes his lips to yours in a kiss so passionate it makes up for all the years of dancing around each other, the way his tongue licks into your mouth makes an embarrassingly loud whine escape you and you worry for a moment that he may feel the rapid beat of your heart against his chest that’s pressed against your own.

Your body is burning hot against Tonowari’s and he’s almost certain the shape of you will be scorched onto his skin like a brand when you finally pull away from him. He can feel your breath getting shorter and more laboured the longer he kisses you but the real sign that your heat is well and truly taking over you is the almost buckle of your knees when he purposefully presses his knee between your thighs and against your soaked cunt.

Taking the brunt of your weight, Tonowari hooks your legs around his waist and lays you back in the sand. The stretch in your hips forced around the thickness of his waist will surely burn once you’re in your right mind once again but for now the only thing you can focus on is the pressure of your closest friend's rock hard cock pressed against your pussy.

You’re so distracted by finally feeling Tonowari’s fat cock pressed against you that you don’t recognise him reaching for your discarded knife until the cold blade is touching your skin, immediately becoming foggy from the pure heat coming off of you. In a swift series of movements your clouded brain can’t keep up with, Tonowari slices through the material of your tewng and the delicate beading of your chest covering. The cool air finally hitting your body only gives momentary relief from the heat eating you from the inside out.

Tonowari feels the pressure of your thighs squeezing around him and he drops his hips into your own, the roughness of his tewng against your bare cunt bringing a startled squeal of pleasure from you and your clit pulses overwhelmingly at the minimal contact.

Large, rough hands grip the backs of your thighs and force them higher, almost bending you in half as Tonowari settles between your plush thighs. Your slick coats every inch of your pitifully swollen and neglected pussy, your swollen, pulsing clit begging for attention from between your lips.

Your voice comes out in a whiney rasp and you barely sound like yourself in the way you beg.

“Please! Please! Please!”

Tonowari takes a moment to admire you fully, every part of you begging for him and him only, before he gives a firm lick through your folds. His wide, rough tongue licking from your slick dripping entrance to your twitching clit forcing a breathy sob to rip from your throat and your back to arch almost painfully as you grip onto his hair.

Purring against your soaked cunt, Tonowari licks up every drop of your slick he can to savour the taste of you on his tongue. The obscene sounds of his tongue lashing against your wetness combined with your high whines fills the air.

You feel Tonowari suck your sensitive clit into his mouth and your hips automatically rock towards his face. His right hand reaches for your plump tits, tugging on your pebbled nipple in rhythm with his suction on your clit as the fingers on his left hand trace your entrance, teasing your clenching hole by pressing the tips in ever so slightly.

Tonowari growls into your heat as he feels your rough tug on his hair but he relents and lets you feel like you have some power from gripping and pulling him until his lips meet your own once again.

Moaning at the taste of your slick on his tongue, a possessive part of your brain is elated at the thought of him tasting like you, smelling like you, being a part of you. Parting from the kiss you can barely catch your breath, little whimpers huffing against his lips as he stares amusedly down at you.

“It hurts, ‘Wari”

A large hand brushes the sweat tangled strands of your hair out of your face, cooing at the tears wetting your lashline while his other hand works on positioning his cock at your entrance.

Tonowari rubs the head of his cock between your lips and over your clit, picking up a combination of your slick and his pre-cum that makes pressing into you an easy feat.

Crying out at the stretch, the conscious part of your brain in the deepest part of your mind is relieved that you didn’t get a good look at Tonowari’s fat cock before he started pressing into you. He was easily the largest man you had ever been with and you felt like he was ripping you in half the further he pushed inside but your heat and your dripping cunt just wanted more.

Tonowari feels your heels digging into the meat of his ass, encouraging him deeper despite the gentle wince on your face.

“You can take it, ma’yawne”

Your mouth parts in awe, a choked whimper rumbling from your chest as he finally reaches the hilt. You can feel his heavy balls pressing against you as the tip of his thick cock kisses your cervix.

Tonowari’s eyes lock onto your own as he begins thrusting, each drag of his cock against your gummy walls threatening to send your eyes rolling so far back in your head they would never return to their normal position. You swear you can feel him hitting your stomach, knocking the breath out of you as each thrust gains momentum and knocks against your g-spot with unimaginable precision.

Reaching for your clit, he rolls it between his fingers as he kisses at your neck and shoulder, selfishly biting at the flesh to mark you as his as if the scent of his cum stuffed inside you wouldn’t ward off any idiot who came around sniffing at you.

The brutality of his pounding thrusts only increases with each punched out whine he receives from you as a reward. He can feel your cunt tightening around him every time his head bullies its way against your g-spot and with renewed vigor he viscously rubs his fingers over the sensitive nub of your pretty little clit.

Your vision goes white for a moment, your ears ringing and when you finally return to your body you hear a high pitched wailing that you’re shocked to realise is coming from you. Tonowari continues his pounding thrusts, each one punching out another gush of cum from you and a fucked out noise from your throat.

Digging your nails into his shoulders you peer up at him, eyelashes clumped together with tears that you can’t hold back any longer.

“Need you to cum inside, want you to fill me up ‘Wari”

Large hands grip onto your hips, tight enough ,you’re sure, to leave ugly discoloured bruises that you’ll wear around the village with pride. Tonowari's thrusts are animalistic as he chases his release, mutterings of a wild man talking about the image of you round with his next child. Tits plumper than usual full of milk for the baby.

Hands leaving your hips, they slam into the sand next to your head. A punched out snarl leaves him as he finally allows himself to cum inside of you so deeply he’s sure not a drop will spill out.

Tonowari’s nose brushes against your own, a gesture almost too intimate in comparison to the way he just ravaged you. You bask in the silence, breathing each other’s air and feeling each other’s heart beats as the sweat cools on your skin and the mist clouding your mind finally settles.

You can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out of you and you watch a fond smile stretch across Tonowari's face, the smile lines at the edges of his beautiful eyes crinkling and reminding you of how long it has taken you both to finally get here.

“Nga yawne lu oer..”

You stroke his hair as you smile up at him, the love of your life, your best friend.

“Skxawng..”

#tonowari x reader #tonowari smut #avatar smut #avatar x reader #romancingpandora2024

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katiemcabeswife · 3 months

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Selflessness (Leah Williamson x FosterMum!Reader)

You always put your kids first but can’t miss the return of Leah back to football.

Another 4.7k words 😮‍💨, also how gorgeous is Leah is that photo? PSA; I have not read through this as it it 1:30 in the morning so I am hoping grammaly as done it’s job 👍🏼

You had been seeing Leah for a few months now but you were still too nervous to tell her about your ‘part-time job’. Of course, she knew that you were a professional dance teacher but she didn’t know that you had a second ‘job'.

It was one that fell into your lap and you couldn’t turn it down. You had all the qualifications to look after children including medical certificates and you had always dreamed of being a mother. Being a lesbian meant that that would be harder than it was if you were straight and when you came across an article about the lack of foster parents in the London area, you decided to sign yourself up.

It took a long few months to get the remaining qualifications needed and go through the training programs but you always had your eye on the target and didn’t mind waiting a few more months if that meant that you were the safest hands a child could be in.

You had your first placement 2 years ago and ever since then your home has never been silent and your heart has always been full. Some children only stayed with you overnight, some stayed a few months, and some were more introverted than others but you always put 110% into making sure they felt comfortable when staying with you.

When you met Leah at the grocery store you were a mess. A particularly troubled child had been staying with you for about a fortnight and had just begun to open up to you when his mother came out of rehab. She had done the necessary lessons and paperwork whilst in the facility and so as soon as she was released, Theo had to move back in with his mother. He had confided in you that he was concerned about moving back in with her and that he was scared she would disappear again but there was nothing you could legally do to calm his anxiety.

The night at the grocery store was the night he went back to his mother’s and you were worried sick about the 7-year-old boy who cried in your arms. You knew you didn't look your best but you needed to restock your pantry after having a farewell feast for Theo.

You were dressed in pyjama pants and a hoodie with sleeves covered in tears and snot. Your hair was thrown into a haphazard ponytail and your eyes were red from both crying and rubbing.

You stood staring at the empty spot where the Oreos normally sit and a fresh set of tears began to roll down your cheeks. You never would have cried over something as trivial as not being able to buy a snack but your emotions were all over the place and you really wanted your comfort food.

You had fallen into a squat with your hands over your eyes, trying to hide the tears when a hand fell on your back, "Are you alright?"

You looked up to see a beautiful blond looking down at you concerned, you pointed pathetically to the empty spot and quickly realised how pathetic it was and quickly stood up, "I am so sorry," You laughed at yourself and wiped away your tears, "I am a mess right now and I really wanted some Oreos and they're out and," You tried to laugh it off again but it sounded more like a cry.

The tall blue-eyed woman reached into her basket and held out a pack of Oreos to you, "You can have mine if you'd like?" She offered kindly.

You rested your hand over your heart and looked at her like she was a miracle worker, "No, I couldn't you had them first. You keep them, I'll be fine I'm just- this is humiliating," You laughed at yourself and took a deep breath, "I am perfectly fine and you can keep the Oreos but thank you for the offer," You smiled appreciatively.

The woman was still looking at you concerningly, "Trust me it's, I shouldn't really be eating them anyways," She spoke as if it were secret and you naturally assumed she was watching her weight or something and when you noticed how fit she was you looked at her in awe.

"You are so perfect," You nodded at her and she looked even more confused, "You keep those Oreos and you eat all of them," You ordered.

The blonde laughed and seemingly caught on, "No, no, I really shouldn't I'm an athlete so I really should not eat the Oreos. Trust me you have them." She thrust them into your basket, "Seriously, take them," She used her 'captain voice' and you felt like you had no other choice.

Overcome with gratitude you thanked her sheepishly, "Thank you for being so kind. Again, I'm so sorry for being such a mess," You gestured to your hair and outfit and missed the way she looked at you as if you were dressed to the nines.

"And if I'm giving you the Oreos I think it's only fair you give me your number..." She trailed off trying to test the waters.

You examined her face to see if she was being serious, "Umm, yeah? I guess sure." You nodded and tried to convince yourself that this was actually happening.

You grabbed her phone which she presented to you and added your number and name; y/n <3. She took it back and smirked at you, "I will be sure to ask you how the Oreos taste, y/n," She teased.

You gained a bit of confidence to flirt back, "I'll be sure to respond..." You waited for her to tell you her name.

"Leah," She caught on.

"I'll be sure to tell you how delicious these Oreos are, Leah," You don't know where the confidence surged from but you winked at her before moving past her to continue your shopping.

From there on, you and Leah messaged back and forth and she joked about your emotional state at the grocery store and teased her about her attraction to you when you looked like rubbish. Now 4 months later and a shocking surprise later (finding out that Leah was in fact a world-known football star) you were trying to find the words to tell her that you wouldn't be able to attend her returning game from her ACL injury.

You had taken in two little girls a week ago, Vienna was 5 and her little sister Lilah was 2. The girls were supposed to have a visit with their father at the time of the game but their caseworker went to inspect the house and found him surrounded by bottles of alcohol therefore she had to cancel the visit.

The only other option was to bring the girls to the game and you were sure Vienna would love the atmosphere but you weren't sure how Lilah would deal. That and the fact that you would have to tell Leah the fact that you were a foster parent, not that you're embarrassed of your job but you were very aware of the fact that many people couldn't handle the inflexibility and last-minute change in plans that came with either being with or being a foster parent and you didn't want to lose what you had with Leah.

You were bought out of your thoughts by a tugging on your pant leg. Lilah was looking at you curiously, she could only speak limited words and since being in your care she limited the number of words she shared with you even further. You picked her up and put her on your hip, "Would like to go see a football game?" You asked, not expecting a response.

You were met with clapping from the toddler and a smile on her face and took that for a yes. You wandered over to where Vienna was doing Just Dance on the TV and put Lilah down to join her sister. You cheered both the girls on and laughed at Vienna's confidence in her dance moves, she had been quite the opposite of her sister and seemed to flourish in your care. The girl's social worker said that she was extremely introverted and had barely ever spoken to her but after only a day being in your hands she thrived and it seemed she almost never stopped talking.

Once the dance was finished you applauded the girls to which Vienna bowed and Lilah copied her sister, "That was fantastic! Where did you learn to dance like that?" You congratulated them and bent to a squat to be more their height.

Vienna blushed and swung her arms sheepishly, "My momma," She responded and your heart warmed, the girls had been in an accident while their mother was driving and she hadn't made it out of the car. Their father hadn't taken the news well and turned to drinking which landed the girls in your care.

"Well, I think she would be so proud of how well you dance," You complimented to which she beamed and Lilah clapped her hands, "Hey, would you like to go to a real-life football game?" You offered with your hands out.

Vienna ran over to you, slapped your hands and screamed, "YES!" She then took off running around the living room pretending to play with an imaginary ball.

"Wow! Well, we will have to get ready won't we?" You gave the girls a chance to make their own choice, "Would you like me to pick you out an outfit or would you like to pick your own out?"

Vienna seemed to think for a moment before deciding that she was going to dress herself. You encouraged her decisions and helped her get dressed before helping Lilah into her own clothes, "You girls look beautiful! I think you picked a better outfit than I ever could," You commended, "Right, I need to make a phone call and get dressed, how about your guys go and do 1 more dance and then we'll hop in the car and go, is that ok?"

Lilah clapped once again but spoke up for the first time that day, "YES!"

Your jaw dropped in shock before you clapped for the girl, "Yes!" You cheered, "Alright, I will be 4 minutes, off you go," You smiled as they ran to the living room holding hands.

You walked into your room, picked out your own outfit and rung up Leah. Once the phone was ringing you bit your thumbnail as you waited, anxious for the coming conversation.

Leah's cheerful voice came through the speaker and you found your anxiety slipping away, "Hey, y/n/n what's up?" You could hear the girls in the background and assumed that they were already in the changerooms.

"Hey Lee, umm would I be able to get 2 extra tickets to the game? I have umm a couple friends who came over unexpectedly and I can't leave them here alone and I really want to come to your game but I completely understand if it's too late but if it is, I am so sorry but I won't be able to come but I will be cheering you from here and-"

Your rambling was cut off by Leah laughing, "Of course, y/n/n I'll get it sorted. Don't worry about it," You let out a breath of relief.

"Thank god, thank you so much Leah. I will make sure to be cheering you on extra loud, and I'm sure my sidekicks will be as well," You laughed.

"Will I get to meet your sidekicks?" She teased, "It's only fair if I'm getting them free seats," She egged on.

You laughed nervously, "Umm, I'm sure they would be delighted to meet you," You noticed Lilah walking into your room, "Hey, I've gotta go, I wanna beat the traffic but I'll see you there, yeah?"

"Of course, see you soon," You bid farewell and hung up the phone, turning your attention to the little girl.

"You ready to go!" You picked Lilah up when she nodded and headed to get your things together, making sure you had enough snacks and water for the girls before herding them out the door and into your car.

The trip was spent singing various songs including Adele and Taylor Swift and the girls were buzzing by the time you reached the Emirates. Vienna forced you to skip in but you had to ask her to hold your hand, not wanting her to get lost. You made your way into the family and friends section. You were glad that Leah's mum couldn't make it to this game as you weren't overly eager to explain your situation to Leah, let alone her mum.

You had spent the time before the match running around with girls, trying to wear them out enough so they wouldn't feel the need to during the game. Once the players had started to line up in the tunnel you were just coming out of the bathroom with the girls, grateful for perfect timing and quickly made your way to your seats. Leah was only slightly worried when she didn't see you in the stands when she headed out to the bench.

You ended up having a spare chair due to Lilah wanting to be in your hold. You stood up when the teams started to walk out holding Lilah in one arm and having your other arm occupied by Vienna clinging on whilst standing on her seat. Even though Leah wasn't in the starting lineup, she was going to come on in the second half but you cheered on the girls you knew were close to her and Vienna was more than happy to help, Lilah sat in your arms confused but unbothered.

When the half-time whistle went you quickly got to your feet and walked briskly to the bathroom after Vienna told you she needed to use the toilet. After cleaning up you took the girls over to an open area and continued to let them run around and made sure Vienna knew that she would have to be stationary for another 45 minutes.

Leah's concern grew when she still couldn't find you in the crowd during half time and she became slightly pissed off that you'd told her you were coming, to get an extra 2 seats, and you weren't even there. Then she grew sad that you couldn't bother showing up to her first game in almost a year.

You had just settled Vienna again when the whistle blew for the commencement of that match and you cheered on the girls once again as the ball got kicked into play. Leah had gone over the rules of football with you a few times but you were still confused over the tackling and offside rules so you just cheered and booed when the Arsenal fans did.

However, when you saw Leah stepping up to the sideline and her number coming up on the substitution board in green, you stood up on your own and screamed as loud as you could causing a ripple effect throughout the stadium. Leah didn't turn around when she heard someone that sounded an awful lot like you cheer because she was in her head about you not being here and her being about to play the sport she loved for the first time in almost a year.

Every time Leah had the ball or made a successful tackle you and Vienna were on your feet cheering and even Lilah managed to expel something resembling a cheer, the poor girl being on the verge of sleep. Leah felt truly alive for the first time in 9 months, of course, she was alive throughout the course of the rehab but felt like she was only living so she could make it to this moment and now that she was in the moment she felt like she could run forever.

Once the game ended Leah had racked up 25 minutes of playing time, an assist and Arsenal won another 3 points for the ladder. She was elated and could feel the fans felt the same way throughout the stadium, especially through her teammates who were glad to have their teammate back on the pitch.

She took one last chance and looked over to the family and friends section to scan for your face and her elation only grew when she spotted it in the crowd. Her elation turned to confusion though when she caught sight of the toddler on your hip and the child you were dancing with. She was not aware you had any children nor any nieces and she was pretty sure she would recognise any of her teammate's kids or relatives and these children's faces were not ones she had seen before.

She started the trek over to you and once you caught sight of her you had to slightly shake your head and gesture to the tunnel. You weren't allowed to let the girls' faces be on camera and you didn't want anyone to witness the conversation you were about to endure with Leah.

You were trying to convince a security guard that you were meeting Leah in the tunnel but he was not having a bar of it, "Please sir, she'll be waiting for me. I'm already in trouble, just let me through!" You were growing frustrated and the girls were picking up on it. Vienna was tugging your hand as she wanted to go run on the pitch and Lilah was getting fussy as she was starting to get over tired.

You didn't see Leah walk in but she had spotted you a minute ago and had to take in what she was seeing for a minute. She had known you for 4 months and you had never mentioned any children in your life but it did make sense that you had kids, sometimes you would have to cancel dates very last minute but you always made sure to set another one up shortly after and apologised profusely.

"Hey, it's alright. She's with me," Leah made herself known and the guard backed off cautiously. Her attention was on your face and could see how you instantly relaxed but she could also see the toddler clinging to your shirt.

Vienna tugged on your shirt and gestured you to get down to your height and as much of a concern the conversation you had to have with Leah was, your kids came first so you bent down and waited for Vienna to speak her mind, "Was that one of the girls on the pitch?" She asked excitedly.

You stroked her arm and nodded with matching enthusiasm, "Yeah she was, she even helped them score a goal!" Vienna seemed pleased with your answer and made her way over to Leah.

You held your breath but let her do her thing. Leah looked to you when she gestured for Leah to bend down, just as you had a minute ago, and you nodded in permission, "Hello lovely, what's your name?" Leah asked.

"My name's Vienna, y/n/n is my step-in mummy!" Your heart warmed at the girl's claim, "I saw you play out on the big pitch!" She reached around to Leah's back and patted it gently, "You did a very good job, y/n/n and I cheered soo loud when you went on, even Lilah cheered!" She exclaimed pointing back towards you and her sister.

"Thank you, darling, I'm actually pretty sure I heard you cheering for me, you were very loud!" Leah complimented to which Vienna giggled.

"Hey V, why don't you take this and sit over there for a minute, I wanna talk to Leah. Is that ok?" You offered her a colouring book and some textas.

"Ok!" She took both and skipped over to where a table and chair were randomly set up.

"Hey..." You rocked slightly as Lilah had fallen asleep.

"Hi," Leah said with a tone of confusion.

"Umm so- yeah," Your free hand came out as if you were about to explain and then it dropped back to your side when you couldn't find the words.

Leah raised her eyebrows before looking between the girls and you.

"I foster kids in my spare time," You tried to joke but then heard how it sounded out loud and immediately began to backtrack, "Not in my spare time, that was stupid, I don't have spare time anymore. I foster kids! All the time, except when I'm not then I'm either working or with you but sometimes I do all three! And I didn't tell you; not because I'm embarrassed of my job but because I am so aware of the fact that many people can't handle the inflexibility and last-minute change in plans that comes with either being with or being a foster parent and I always feel so bad when I have to cancel plans but them I'm like there is a literal child who needs somewhere to stay and someone to take care of them and it makes me feel better but then I'm like, Leah! I didn't want to lose you because I know you're gonna have a busy schedule now that your back playing and I didn't want you to feel bad about calling this off because of what I do and-" You were running out of breath and were on the verge of tears when Leah bought you into a hug, keeping clear of the child perched on your hip.

Once you caught your breath and the hug broke off Leah grabbed your face between her hands, "You are a bloody amazing woman." She stated and you blushed, "I can not believe how selfless you are, you are doing something so incredible for these kids and you still take into account how I would feel? Of course, I wouldn't call this off because you chose to take in kids who need somewhere to stay! If anything it makes me love you more!" She didn't even register what she was saying until she said it. That didn't mean she regretted it.

She crashed her lips into yours and you reciprocated but broke free quickly, aware of the child in your arms and the other one not even 4 meters away from you. You were still slightly teary, her beautiful confession not helping, "I love you too," You laughed but quickly quietened when Lilah stirred in your arms, "Umm, would you like to come back to mine? I'll have to put these two down but it should only take 10 minutes,"

Leah was quick to agree and ran to get her kit from the changing room and had a fast shower. She sent off a quick message to the Arsenal girls excusing herself from post-match celebrations. She met you next to your car and noticed that you only had one kid running circles around you, "Lils was fast asleep so I've just put her in her seat, ready to go?" You asked Leah who nodded.

"Is Leah coming over to our house?" Vienna asked when you were clipping her into her car seat.

You glanced at Leah sitting in the passenger seat before nodding to Vienna, "Yeah, is that alright with you?" You were worried that she wouldn't be ok having someone else in the house with you and knew that if that was the case, you would have to once again reschedule to meet up with her.

"As long as she tells me a bedtime story!" Vienna giggled.

"I'm sure if you asked really nicely, she would be more than happy too!" She was content with your answer and broke out in humming a random tune. You laughed at her and went to the driver's side to take your girls home.

The drive home was fairly quiet as Lilah was asleep but Vienna kept humming her tune and you and Leah couldn't help but laugh when she got really passionate about her song.

"McDonald's for dinner?" You asked Leah who nodded her head. You turned your head slightly to catch the gaze of Vienna, "Hey V, do you want to get McDonald's for dinner?"

"Um yes please!" She spoke as if it were obvious, "Can I get a nugget happy meal?"

You nodded, "Umm of course?" You responded in the same tone she had before.

After teasing Leah about her bland food choices, Vienna talking Leah's ear off about nothing in particular in between eating her happy meal and Lilah having a bottle and being put to sleep, it was finally Vienna's time to go to sleep.

"Alrighty, teeth are brushed and jammies are on, what's next V?" You asked and she seemed to remember your conversation in the car and ran over to Leah who watched the scene in awe.

"Excuse me, Leah?" She patted her knee to get her attention, "Would you please tell me a bedtime story?"

Leah gasped, "I would love to have the honour!" She spoke proudly.

Vienna dragged her to her bedroom and quickly got under her sheets, "Could you please tell me a football story?" She asked politely.

"Those are my favourite stories, would you like to hear about when my team won a competition against all of the other countries in Europe?" Vienna nodded dutifully.

"Isn't there like a billion countries in Europe?" She was 5, give her a break.

Leah nodded, "Almost," She went off to tell her a shortened version of the Eruos in 2022 and Vienna was enraptured by the story but was slowly falling asleep.

"You must be really good if you beat a billion other countries, I like you, you're my favourite footballer," Vienna decided and patted Leah's hand that was resting on her leg. You watched the scene from the side with hearts in your eyes.

Once the story was over Leah bid Vienna goodnight and got up off the bed so you could say your goodnights. You made sure to tuck her in extra tight and checked under her bed for monsters and after concluding that there were none Vienna was ready to go to sleep, "Goodnight, munchkin, sweet dreams," You kissed her lightly on the forehead.

She returned the favour by kissing your nose and pulled in for another secret, "I really like Leah, she's pretty," She giggled.

You smiled at the small child and nodded, "I know," You laughed with your foster daughter and wished her goodnight once again flipping off the lights and turning on the night light, "Night night V," You waved.

"Night night y/n/n," She dozed off.

You left the door open slightly and jumped when you saw Leah waiting on the opposite side of the door, "Jesus, Lee," You pulled her into your bedroom not wanting to wake either girl, "Listen, I truly am sorry about not telling you about all this. I was just scared and didn't want to lose you is all,"

Leah took you in her arms, "I understand, love. Don't worry about it," She gave you a kiss on the side of your head and pulled away, "I loved watching you interact with them, you're so good at it. And you look beautiful while doing it," She flirted and pecked your lips.

You moved your arms to wrap around her neck, "I love watching you interact with them, didn't know you had it in you, Captain Grumpy Pants," You teased as Leah was known for her stern facial expressions.

Leah looked unimpressed, "Well at least V, thinks I'm pretty," She spoke triumphantly.

You pecked her lips, "I happen to think you are very pretty," You kissed her again but let it go even further and when you had to break apart for air, "Gorgeous really," You teased.

"Stop trying to one-up a child," She chastised sarcastically.

You smirked, "You might just have to shut me up, then," You flirted but it didn't end up going much further as the two of you ended up fast asleep within minutes exhausted from playing football, cheering and taking care of two children.

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #woso imagine #woso community #woso fanfics #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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strang3lov3 · 10 months

Text

Self-Indulgent Tendencies

dbf!joel x fem reader

Summary: while on your night walks, you decide to sneak into your dad’s best friend’s pool. When you’re finally caught you’re faced with two options: Joel can call the cops on you or teach you a lesson himself.

Warnings: pervy!Joel, slightly creepy joel, manipulative joel, kinda dark joel, slight dubcon but it’s not crazy, public nudity, semi public sex, rough sex, blowjobs, masturbation, attempted orgasm denial, reader calls joel daddy (couldn’t help myself), unprotected piv, voyeurism, oral f and m receiving, substantial age gap (reader is 20s and joel is 40s, honestly picture whatever age gap you want. I think the girthier the sexier LOL) I was feeling filthy sorry

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: this poisoned my mind and I had to write it. Please enjoy <3 I would like to dedicate this story to @toxicanonymity who inspires me to be myself and have fun when writing this absolute filth ❤️

@speckledemerald deserves some credit with creating this story. Thank you for brainstorming with me and proofreading and your words of encouragement love!!! 😘❤️😘❤️😘

Texas in July. You did not miss it one bit, yet here you were, walking in the smoldering heat wave, beads of sweat dripping down your body. It was the kind of heat that weighed heavily in the air and suffocated your lungs with each and every breath.

After graduation in May, you moved back home, settling on a cute little townhouse not far from where your parents lived.

As you walk, you wave hi to the Adlers, then to Joel, who’s mowing his lawn. Oh yeah, he’s in this neighborhood too.

Joel, your dad’s best friend since…long before you were around. Joel, with his dark curls, his patchy beard and thick mustache, his sparkly dark eyes, his syrupy-sweet smile. He looks sinfully handsome mowing his lawn in his denim cutoffs and white tank top, his sun kissed skin shimmering in sweat.

He smiles back with a wave, and you walk right past, continuing your walk. It’s late in the evening, the sun is beginning to disappear. This is the best time to get your exercise, you’ve decided. It’s when the air is coolest, but still, not quite cool enough.

You loop around the neighborhood a couple times more and before you know it, you’re back at Joel’s house. You see the waves of his pool out of the corner of your eye, the moonlight dancing on the dark water.

How refreshing it would be to swim right now, you think to yourself. Joel’s pool is big, so clean, and refreshing. You’ve spent many barbecues in his pool, long summer days filled with chicken fights, swimming contests, seeing how long you could hold your breath under the water.

Fuck it.

You tiptoe to his pool, climb up the steps of his deck and begin stripping articles of clothing. It’ll be just for a minute, you decide. Just a quick dip to cool off, then you’re gone, and your daddy’s best friend is none the wiser. You strip completely bare and dip a toe in the cool waters, then quietly slink into the pool.

The water is soothing against your hot skin, the familiar smell of chlorine filling your senses. You wade for a bit, then dip your head under the water, doing a little flip. Pure fucking bliss.

Joel is in his bedroom, he thought he heard his deck creak. He figured it was the raccoons again, Sarah was always feeding them cookies and chips that she shouldn’t have been. But then he hears a splash.

Joel peels his bedsheets off his body and takes a few steps towards the window, finding a young woman in his pool. Naked, her bare ass exposed to the air as she swims across the pool back to the deck. It’s only when she hoists herself up and steals a towel from the basket on the deck he recognizes her as you.

And dear lord, what a fucking sight you are. Your dripping skin illuminated by the pale moonlight, your nipples pebbled and perky from the cool water. You towel your body, then your hair, and then dress yourself. And as quickly as you got in the pool, you leave, hanging your towel over the ledge of the deck.

Joel bites back a groan and palms his cock. He tries his best to shake the images of you, his best friend’s daughter, from his mind. But he can’t. Instead, he strokes his cock furiously, your supple tits and plump ass tattooed on his eyes. Who the fuck do you think you are, swimming bare assed in his pool? Before he even realizes just how close he is, he spills onto himself, making a mess on his clothing.

The next week, you do it again. You walk past Joel’s house, Joel chokes on the mouthful of beer when you wave to him and Tommy.

Tommy smirks at Joel’s mishap. “She sure grew up, huh?”

Joel swallows thickly. “Yeah,” is all he can choke out. Tommy doesn’t know the half of it. He knows your skimpy workout shorts and sports bras, but he doesn’t know what’s underneath. Not how Joel does.

On your way home, you eye Joel’s pool. Empty and dark, waiting for you. You tiptoe through the grass for a second time, strip bare, and dip into the water. This time, you swim for a longer duration, feeling confident after pulling off last week’s stunt with ease.

What you don’t realize (other than the fact Joel watched you through his window last week and subsequently masturbated to his memories of your naked body) is that Joel is in his garage, waiting for you. He stands in the doorway, hidden by the shadows. He planned it this way when you walked past his house. This way, he thinks, he can get a closer look. Watch how your body moves, hear the noises you make.

When you dip under the water, Joel quickly sneaks to the deck and ruffles through your clothing, finding your panties. He grips them tightly, hides back in the garage, and watches you emerge from the water. This time, he jerks off to you with your worn panties clutched into his hand, held under his nose as he inhales your scent. When he comes, he feels a tinge of guilt, but pushes it deep in the back of his mind. He’s dead fucking wrong for this, but so are you, after all.

When you step out of the pool, you can’t find a towel. Joel smirks mischievously at your confusion when you realize your panties are missing too. Did you forget to wear them? Left with no choice, you put on your clothes over your wet skin, your dripping hair soaking your t-shirt. You slip on your sandals and quickly sprint around his house to make your way home.

Only, you run right into Joel, literally. His torso is firm and he grabs your shoulders with his big hands.

“Woah there, kiddo. Finishing up your walk?” he asks you.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. “Just on my way home.”

Joel eyes you as he blocks you with his big imposing body on the sidewalk, still holding you tightly by the shoulders. You feel small, vulnerable. “Whatcha all wet for?”

You freeze, any words you can think of getting caught in your throat. Joel raises an eyebrow in suspicion, or entertainment, at the way you try to think up a lie. “Got caught in some sprinklers,” you mumble. Your eyes dart past him, but his pupils stay focused on yours. It makes your cheeks burn.

You’re not much better of a liar now than when you were a teenager, he notes. He loves watching you lie to his face when he knows your dirty little secret. He’s made himself come twice now to your dirty little secret, after all. It’s really quite amusing.

You stay frozen in place, Joel’s intense gaze making you uncomfortable. There’s something so off about his demeanor. There’s something unnerving about him, he seems too cool. Shouldn’t he be as startled as you are?

“Gotta get home. Goodnight, Joel,” you pull away from his grasp. You need to get out of this situation before he puts the pieces together, if he hasn’t already.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,”

A few days later, on your regular evening walk, you pass Joel’s house. This time, Joel’s alone on his porch and sipping a beer.

“Get your ass up here and have a drink with me!” he shouts at you, a playful tone in his voice. “Now that you’re legal.”

You blush at the memory he’s referencing. You were only a teenager, couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen. But how rebellious you were.

You snuck into his garage, a cigarette between your lips, and stole a bottle of vodka from his freezer. As you turned to leave, you saw Joel in the doorway, his expression somewhere between upset and amused. He said nothing as he took the ice cold bottle of alcohol from your hands, his fingers gracing lightly over yours.

He motioned for you to sit in the dusty patio chairs by the fridge as he put the bottle of vodka back in his freezer. Then Joel pulled the cigarette from your lips and took a drag, letting the ash fall on the cold cement of the garage floor. “S’not good to smoke,” he exhaled, smoke rising out of his mouth as he sat in the chair closest to the fridge.

Once you sat down, he passed the cigarette back to you and you took a drag of your own. “I know,” you mumbled, unable to meet his face. You could handle the disappointed expressions of your parents, but Joel? Forget it.

“I won’t snitch to your parents if you quit f’me. Can you do that?”

You nodded shyly.

“Good girl,” he said. You shared the rest of the cigarette before Joel smudged it out on the floor with his boot. He pulled you up out of your seat, shoved his hand into your jacket pocket, and stole your pack of cigarettes. Then he sent you home.

That was the night your budding infatuation with Joel really took off. Of course, you were attracted to him before, but it was something about that night. The way he called you good girl, how he took your hand. How he shared your cigarette, the thought of tasting his lips without actually kissing him.

You never smoked another cigarette again.

“Beer?” he offers you.

You don’t really like beer, but you do like Joel. “Sure,”

He walks into his garage to grab you one, opens it and then hands it to you. “Settlin’ in okay?” he asks you as he pulls you in for a hug, perhaps squeezing you a bit too tight.

“I’m doing okay, yeah,” “Stayin’ out of trouble?” he teases you.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Joel. I’m staying out of trouble,”

Joel winks at you, pulling another swig of his beer. There’s something about him, he’s got that same smug look from the other night when you ran into him. Like he knows something you don’t. “Sure, kiddo,”

You smile shyly, unsure of how exactly to respond.

“How about this heat, hm? You keepin’ cool?”

“Oh, yeah,”

“S’good,” Joel smirks again. You can’t help but squint at him, unsure of what he’s getting at. He’s not talking about–he doesn’t know. Right?

Sarah interrupts then, calling for Joel to come in and watch American Idol with her. Joel bids you goodbye, you finish up the last of your beer and leave, starting for your walk once again.

When you cross Joel’s house on your way home, you battle yourself in your mind. Today is by far the hottest day of the summer, the heat never once breaking. You’re conflicted: on one hand, you’re dripping sweat and aching for the cool waters of Joel’s pool to soothe you, but on the other, you risk getting caught. It seems that Joel is onto you already, but he would have confronted you. Right?

You decide to go for a swim. Walking into Joel’s backyard like it’s your own, you strip and sink into the pool. You dip your head under the water, doing flips and twirling in the water. The starlight dances over your skin, you look like Aphrodite herself.

Joel just watches you, quietly. This time he’s not in the garage, not in his bedroom. He’s next to the deck, watching how your perky breasts break through the surface of the dark water. He’s sick of being teased by you. It’s his turn to fuck with you.

Joel discreetly grabs your pile of clothes and a nearby water gun. Ever so subtly, he fills the water gun with the pool water, and waits. It’s not long before you swim back to the deck and you realize your clothes are gone. You lean over the edge of the pool, checking to see. Did they fall under the deck? Where the fuck did they go? How are you supposed to get home?

You feel a squirt of water on your asscheek as you’re leaning over the edge. You whip around, not seeing anyone. This is getting fucking eerie, you search for your clothes frantically now.

Phwit phoo! You hear a whistle and whip your head back around, and there’s Joel. Right in front of you, holding a squirt gun. “Tsk. Thought you said you were stayin’ out of trouble,” he chides. He doesn’t look the slightest bit surprised or angry. He just looks like…he knows. Like he’s been watching you this whole time. Has he?

“Joel!” you gasp, quickly covering your breasts.

“You lookin’ for these, sweetheart?” Joel holds up your pile of clothes in his hand for you to see. Your mouth drops open. “Tresspassin’ and public nudity ain’t no joke, you know.” “Joel, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was–”

“All y’had to do was ask me if ya wanted to use my pool, honey. You know I woulda’ let you. This heat wave and all,” he stares at you, eyebrows raised, playing with the squirt gun in his hand. He squirts it a few times into the water before tossing it aside. “Certainly wouldn’t want you to get heatstroke.”

“I know, I just–”

“You just what?” Joel interrupts you, “I know what your problem is, honey. You still got that rebellious streak in ya. S’that why you’re wearin’ these slutty panties, hm? Skinny dippin’ in my pool every night?” he holds up the panties, lacy and cheeky. “C’mon now, you know better.”

You reach for the panties, your heart beating through your chest and your cheeks on fire. Joel pulls them out of your reach. “Ah ah ah, mine now. You’re in trouble now, sweetheart. Since you wanna act like a fuckin’ slut and whore yourself out for the whole neighborhood to see,” he tuts disapprovingly at you, “Where’s your self respect?”

You swallow thickly. You don’t know what to say, what to do. You’re caught red handed.

Joel climbs up the steps, each thud of his foot hitting the deck like thunder in your ears. “I’ve got half a mind to call the cops,” he mutters.

“No, Joel, don’t. Please, don’t,” you plead in desperation.

“I dunno, kiddo. This is pretty serious. Think it’s about time you face some real consequences,” his voice is dark and unwavering, you know he means business. “The way I see it, hon, you got two options,” he starts, sitting down at the pool. He dangles his legs next to you, sending ripples your way. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers and a thin gray t-shirt. “Cops can teach you a lesson or I can. What’ll it be?”

It’s no question. “You,” you say. “You, Joel. Please, don’t call the cops.”

Joel chuckles. “Smart girl. First good decision you’ve made in a long time, sweetheart. A long time,”

He takes off his shirt, his tan skin glowing under the sparkling stars and moonlight. Then he takes his cock out of his boxers, already hard and leaking precum. Your mouth drops open, knowing exactly the type of punishment you’re in for. “You know what I think?” he starts, exhaling deeply, “I think you’re bored.”

“What?”

“Y’need somethin’ to keep you busy, out of trouble,” he continues, “Let’s start with that filthy mouth of yours, hm?” Joel begins stroking his member, smearing precum with each pass of his hand.

Desire shakes your bones and you nod, understanding where this is headed.

“Always thought you’d be nicer with a cock down that throat of yours. Shut you right up so you can’t backtalk me. Now get your ass over here, girl,”

You swim over to him, situating yourself between his thighs.

“C’mon, open wide for me. Know you can,” he commands you, and you part your lips around the angry tip of his cock, so rosy and agitated. “Suck.”

You don’t waste a moment. You drag your tongue up and down his shaft, swirling a couple of times over his tip. You savor the salty tangy flavor of his skin, so soft and smooth under your tongue.

“Quit your teasin’,” Joel shoves your head down on his cock, hard. You gag and sputter onto him, pulling back to catch your breath. Your struggle only encourages him, he forces your head to stay down.

“You’re gonna take my cock all the way down your throat, baby. Just relax, open wide,”

Your jaw is already sore trying to accommodate his member. He’s thick and long, filling your mouth completely. You begin bobbing your head up and down, up and down. Massaging him with your tongue, tracing over his bulging veins.

“That’s it,” he praises you softly. “Doin’ so well f’me. Always knew you’d suck me real good.

You cup his balls in your hand and continue sucking, making a mess of his cock. Spit dribbling down your chin and into the thick tuft of curls at the base of his dick.

Your jaw is aching, but you don’t dare stop.

“Look at you,” he coos, his strong hand caressing the side of your face before settling at your jaw. “Good lord.”

He bucks into your mouth, pushing you to your limits. He’s letting out little grunts and groans now and then, and then you feel his cock twitch in your mouth.

Joel pulls you off his cock, a trail of spit connecting his member to your lips. Then he grabs you by your biceps into his lap. “Gonna let me fuck some sense into you, hm?”

Your heart jumps at his request, but you’re not ready. “No, Joel, need you to touch me first,” you beg. After the way his thick cock made your jaw sore, you know your pussy needs warming up to accommodate his massive size.

Joel chuckles darkly, one hand firmly gripping your ass and the other holding his cock. He lines himself up to your entrance, notching the tip at your hole, not yet ready to take him. “This is your punishment. Ain’t s’posed to feel good, honey,” he says, his voice cool and collected.

“No, Joel,” you protest, wiggling your hips away from him. Your heart is pounding, your stomach drops.

“Maybe,” Joel grunts, both hands now holding your asscheeks in a vice grip. “If you’re good t’me and keep out of trouble, I’ll love you a little sweeter next time,”

He doesn’t give you a moment to process his words before he unceremoniously pulls you down on his cock. The stretch and burn is unimaginable, your eyes blur with tears and you nearly scream, but Joel covers your mouth to muffle your shock.

“You be quiet,” he warns you with a stern voice. You’re on top, but he’s the one in control, pushing and pulling your hips up and down on his cock. Using you as his own fuck toy. You bite into his hand, doing your best to hold back your screams.

“Joel,” you cry into his palm, tears falling down your cheeks and over his knuckles. The pain is bordering on unbearable.

“Relax,” he commands you, his voice somewhat soothing. “Just relax f’me, hon. Quit squeezin’, open up,”

He’s right. You just need to relax your muscles, let yourself take him. As he fucks into you, you focus on the small amount of pleasure you can feel deep inside. It grows larger with every thrust, and soon enough, the painful stretch is replaced by pleasure.

You sigh in contentment, savoring every delicious thrust. Joel fucks into you with such fervor, hitting that sweet spot inside you with each and every one of his movements. “Oh, Joel,” you moan. Your arms are wrapped around him, your head falling to his neck. You bite into his neck and inhale his musky scent, woody and slightly sweaty. That, coupled with the smell of the chlorine fills your nostrils, a wonderful combination.

“Jesus, girl,” he whispers, his hot breath making your skin prickle. “Lettin’ me fuck you like this for the whole neighborhood to see. You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” you gasp.

Joel stops, pulling you back from him. “Daddy, huh? S’that how we’re doin’ things?”

You blush, unsure of what to say. You didn’t mean to say that.

Joel fills the silence. “You’re worse off than I thought,” he says like it’s a fact. You can’t quite place his tone, or how he feels. “You’re a lost cause, baby.” he exaggerates his sigh, disappointed.

You look to the side, trying to think of something, anything to respond to him with.

“S’alright, though. I like you like this,” he begins fucking you mercilessly again. “All mine.”

“Fuck, Joel,” you scramble on top of him, grasping at his toned body to keep from falling into the water.

“Mhm. Who am I?” he grunts through gritted teeth. He drags a hand up your torso and pinches at your pebbled nipple.

“Daddy,” you whine. He bounces you up and down his cock, fingers painting bruises into your soft skin.

“S’right,” he mumbles.

Joel fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before, deep and hard and intentional. His movements are precise, calculated. You’re clay in his hands, he’s molding you into what he wants. With each movement, you become his entirely.

You’re breathless as he thrusts into you. His feet splash in the water, you feel drops on your back every so often. His calloused and rough hands holding you tightly. His warm torso pressed to yours, one of his hands groping at your soft breasts.

He feels you squirm, he feels your pussy clench around his cock. Your breaths are frantic and uneven. “You’re close, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah,” you whine. He’s reading your body like a fucking book.

“That’s just too bad,” he tuts. Your stomach fills with dread, knowing what his next words likely will be.

“Joel, please,” you cry.

“Mm mm,” he mumbles, his eyes fixed on yours. His eyes are dark, full of lust. Desire. Desire to control you, make you his and his alone.

“Let me come. Please, daddy,” you grind your hips into his, feeling the friction of his hair on your clit.

“I don’t think you deserve that, my love,” his voice is sickeningly sweet, full of fake sympathy for your predicament.

“No, m’so close, please. N-fuck, not gonna last,”

“Don’t you dare, sweetheart,” he warns you, never once changing his pace as he fucks you. “You’ll be in deeper shit than ya are now, I don’t think you need that,”

“Please,” you cry, feeling the beginning of your orgasm bloom deep in the pit of your stomach. “Please, please, please,”

You can’t help it. You can’t stave off your release any longer. With whimpers and moans, you come all over his cock, your slick dripping from your cunt and painting his lap. It sends bolts of electricity through your veins and you shudder uncontrollably, mouth wide open and your eyes screwed shut.

Your pussy quivers, squeezing and massaging Joel’s cock is all he needed. Making a strangled sort of groan, he spills into you, hot ropes of his come shooting inside you and painting your walls. He holds you tight enough to break bone as he fucks you through your shared releases.

With the stars in the sky now behind your eyes, your chest heaving up and down in gasping breaths, Joel lifts you off of his cock. Your skin is damp with sweat and you dip back into the water. And to think you thought you were hot after your late night walks.

Joel watches your slick and his own come drip from your spent cunt onto the deck, then into the pool. “Look at this godforsaken mess you made,” he points to his lap, glistening with your juices. “Naughty fuckin’ girl. You just can’t help yourself.”

Godforsaken mess is right. You look at him with wide eyes, speechless. He stares right back at you with his own intense and piercing gaze, that same look when he caught you stealing his vodka.

How far away that night seems now. It hits you, what you just did with your father’s best friend. Joel, who practically raised you, who taught you to drive a stick and held your graduation party at his house. All of those barbecues, those hot summer nights spent on his deck, the same deck you desecrated just moments ago.

You just can’t help yourself.

“Shoot, you poor thing,” he sighs, tucking himself back into his boxers. He doesn’t bother putting his shirt back on, but he does grab your panties and clutches them in his fist. “You’re fucked now.”

Joel’s legs splash in the water as he stands up and goes back inside his house, then tosses you a clean towel from inside.

You really are fucked now.

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