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jongseongsnudes · 5 months

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babygirl

brothersbestfriend!jake. 2.5k words. smut.

“you’re a fucking perv sim.”

“aw and you’re just mad i don’t perv on you,” he says with his infamous smug grin, his eyes blatantly scanning you from head to toe like he had been doing the whole time, “ain’t that right babygirl?”

how you even got yourself into a screaming match with jake sim again, you have no idea but doing so in the middle of your brother's frat party was not very ideal. especially if said man caught you in your outfit tonight... oh. all hell would break loose.

jay loved you. very overprotective, but definitely loved you. he also loved his best friend jake sim. you and jake however, don’t like each other and using the term like in the same sentence as you and jake, was also very misleading about your relationship with him.

just something about him irked you the wrong way right from the start. perhaps it’s the way he smirked all the time, like it was his natural expression. or maybe it’s the way he is such a fucking sleaze ball yet still gets all the girls so easily. he’s lucky he’s hot as fuck and got a big dick, according to rumours on campus.

“in your fucking dreams sim.”

“suit yourself,” he responds smugly, eyes still plastered on your skirt, “i’m just saying. any shorter and this whole house will get to find out what colour your panties are. i meannnn, i don’t mind but i’m sure your brother will.”

you roll your eyes at him, something you always do whenever the man was around. like a natural reflex. because god was jake sim annoying.

like most saturdays, you and your friends found yourselves crashing some frat party on campus. this week’s party just happens to be at your own brother’s frat house, which unfortunately, was also where your sworn enemy lived.

and as if jake had a you radar in his head, he had approached you first thing as you walked through his front door, eyeing your outfit so shamelessly. well. you did opt for something shorter tonight, something you knew would’ve gotten yourself a lot of attention with.

especially jake sim’s.

despite hating the man with your entire being, there was just something about the way he paid so much attention to you all the time... excited you. no matter if it was during parties, on the street or even while hanging out with your brother, jake’s gaze never failed to be on you... and your body.

it drove you insane, it really did and you couldn’t explain why.

“worry about yourself,” you scoff and begin looking around the room, “but what you can do for me though, is tell me where sunghoon is.”

“sunghoon? why?”

his tone is noticeably lower as he repeats his best friend’s name, a hint of annoyance in his voice. jake wasn’t one to get irritated often so the immediate change was definitely something you quickly caught on.

“why? i didn’t dress this way not to go talk to the hottest guy on campus.”

the deep chuckle that emits from jake catches the attention of a few other party goers, even surprising you. it’s obvious he’s mocking you with his laugh alone and that was enough to have you wanting to smack him across the head.

“babygirl. i have a better chance at getting with sunghoon than you. he has standards.”

and the man walks off before you could even say anything, leaving you in the middle of the living room with your blood boiling over. you knew jake was awful but this was just plain mean.

but instead of running after him, you decide to do something even better.

find park sunghoon.

and luckily for you, there he was on the other side of the room with three of the hottest girls on campus. honestly, you expected nothing less when it came to him.

sunghoon was also one of your brother’s best friends but the man was nothing like jake. he was much nicer to you, much more attentive to you. like an older brother. that’s why it didn’t take long before you had sunghoon all to yourself, the man ready to drop everything and anything once he saw you staring at him from afar.

“sunghoon i need a favour,” you say but your eyes are focused on jake, who’s standing in the crowd... currently staring back at you. “can you hug me?”

sunghoon doesn’t question it and leans right in, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. he says a few dumb things about jay to make you laugh, making the scene all the better for the one person watching.

“i know what you’re trying to do mini park,” he laughs as he begins to pull away, not before leaving a sweet peck on your cheeks, “well good luck. hope this works and you get some good jealousy fucking tonight.”

you wanted to complain but about what exactly? the man was right. why else why would you go out of your way to make jake mad. right?

man you needed a drink.

and to your surprise, jake appears beside you in the kitchen while you’re grabbing another cup, the man’s expression grim compared to that flirty one he had earlier. he’s also standing noticeably closer too, his gaze literally drilling holes into your face.

was this jealousy you can smell?

“really? sunghoon?”

“why not? he’s so hot,” you reply nonchalantly, hoping it’d piss the man off more, “or maybe taehyun or beomgyu? i’m sure one of them wouldn’t mind keeping me company tonight.”

now you were just spitting bullshit, seeing how worked up jake was getting with the mentions of other guy’s names. with the way he was responding, you’re certain now that he's jealous and you knew exactly how to use that against him.

“oh look, there’s heeseung-”

“babygirl,” jake grabs your arm before you could finish your sentence, his one word more of a threat than anything endearing like the name suggests, “they may be hot but trust me, they can’t fuck like i can.”

gulp.

“you’re not only annoying sim, you actually talk a lot of shit too.”

“wanna bet then?”

“bet what?”

“that no can fuck you like i can.”

everything happened way too quickly because one moment you’re being cornered in the kitchen, the next you’re still being cornered but in his bedroom upstairs. his hands are all over your body, grasping at every curve you’ve got while yours are busy around his neck, doing everything they can to have him closer to you.

you’re not even sure how everything just exploded between the two of you but in a way, you’re also surprised it took this long to happen.

although you and jake were always at each other’s throats, you can’t deny the oh so obvious sexual tension that lingered whenever you two were in the same room. explains why you enjoyed riling him up so much... because that always led to him giving you his full attention.

“you’re a fucking brat,” he could barely say his words, his lips too busy on yours to do any proper talking, “you knew i was watching and you still let sunghoon touch you.”

“you don’t own me jake,” the man looks amused when you successfully pull away from the kiss a little, the two of you now panting heavily inside the dimly lit room, “i can let him touch me if i want-”

“you won’t be saying that after i’m done with you. you’ll never want anyone else but me.”

“so are you going to keep talking or are you actually going to fuck me-”

his lips were back on yours before you could finish your insult, turning your words into soft whimpers from how harsh he was being. he kisses you roughly, with no hesitation, like he was on a mission to taste all of you.

and hell was it doing something to you.

and your damn panties.

“this fucking skirt,” you could feel his fingers gripping the material of your thin skirt, almost ripping it, “i know you wore it for me tonight. you could’ve just said you wanted me to fuck you, instead of letting everyone else in this god damn place see you in it too.”

“and what’s wrong with that, jake?”

“i don’t like them looking at you,” his tone of voice switches up in an instant, from flirty to dominant all in two seconds and damn was that hot, “too bad for them though, they don’t get to do what i’m about to.”

you open your mouth to talk back, only to be left speechless when the man gets down onto his knees before you. the sight is surely one to witness, something you know for a fact you’ll be thinking about again and again.

“jake...”

he only smirks at how you call his name, whiny and pathetic. like a bitch in heat and he hasn’t even done a single thing to you yet.

every part of you is on left on overdrive the moment jake suddenly leans in, his face now a breath away from where you needed him most. his eyes stay on yours the entire time, making sure you focused on him and every one of his movements... and you did just that.

your breath hitches when his cold hands meets with your skin, his fingers now gripped onto the sides of your thighs, gradually moving higher up your skirt. you wanted to scream at the man, for him to move faster, to do something more than just this bullshit eye contact but you know jake sim. he’s being a fucking tease and you can’t do anything about it.

“you’re so cute when you’re like this.”

“l- like what sim?”

“horny.”

gulp.

he lifts one of your legs up and rests it on his shoulder, doing it hastily that you end up grasping onto his hair for some sort of balance. your surprised look has him with a smug grin again, evidently amused at your reaction to him.

“jake!”

“is at your service beautiful,” your mind was too startled by the new petname to notice the man leaning in before it was too late. with both hands now holding your thighs, jake finally closes the gap, pressing his lips against your clothed pussy.

the sinful sound that falls from your own lips is something no other man has ever gotten from you, a sound you didn’t even know you could make. yet here jake sim was, so easily doing so just by kissing you through your panties.

“thinking of me made you this wet babygirl?” he laughs, taunting you with his words but for once in your life, you couldn’t care less, “i can taste you through your panties. so sweet.”

“f- fuck off sim, stop tea- teasing,” you want to sound stern, to sound like how you usually did but it was almost impossible not to sound like a weakling with jake’s face literally at your pussy, “i swear to god i will call for sunghoon right now- ahhh-”

it’s the feeling of his tongue licking at your core that has your knees giving out, your mind no longer able to think about anything else other than the man and his tongue.

“call him so he can watch me fuck you dumb? narh. i’m too jealous for that.”

his words leave a weird feeling inside of you, a feeling you don’t quite understand. you’re unsure whether he meant it or not but the look on his face is suddenly grim again, much like earlier when you also mentioned his best friend’s name.

jake stands back up when you go quiet, all while watching you. you can tell he’s also deep in thought like you are but no one says anything. it’s silent but it’s not awkward, neither was it uncomfortable.

actually, it’s the most comfortable you’ve ever been with him.

“get on the bed,” his voice is much softer now, more like a whisper.

his expression, his tone, his gaze are something you’ve never seen from him before. a soft side. and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

not wanting to make the situation weird, you do as asked without protest, crawling onto his bed when-

*bang bang bang*

“sim you in there?”

the sudden call of jake’s name immediately has you and him frozen in place, the both of you knowing exactly who that was currently banging on the door. despite the loud music booming throughout the entire house, you could still recognise that voice anywhere.

park jongseong aka your overprotective older brother.

“shit!” you whisper yell, terrified at possibly getting caught, “what do we do!”

“y- yeah bro?” jake signals you to keep quiet, the man thankfully much more calm in the situation compared to you.

“sooji is here, she’s asking for you! she looks so fucking hot- wait why the hell are you even in your room dude??”

men.

you look up at jake with knives in your eyes but he only responds by pinching your cheeks and with that stupid smirk you love to hate. although you’re currently in panic mode because of your brother, jake’s small action has you wanting to kick your feet at how adorable that was.

“alright give me a sec, i’ll meet you downstairs!”

you’re finally able to breath once jay’s footsteps fade away, leaving you and jake alone again.

“i'm gonna head down or he’ll get sus. give it 5 minutes for me to distract him before you leave okay?” the man hurries off towards the door, all the while you’re left sitting there, partially confused.

confused about why you were currently annoyed with the fact that jake was on his way to see some girl name sooji. knowing his fuck boy self, she’d probably be replacing your spot and that killed you inside.

“what’s wrong?” he says, bringing you out of your delusional thoughts. the man walks back towards the bed, one hand reaching out to place some stray hairs behind your ear, “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say this is the look of jealousy.”

“shut up sim.”

“you’re so cute,” he chuckles, not before leaning down to kiss the side of your lips, just softly but surely enough to leave you feeling secretly giddy inside. “can i come over tonight?”

luckily you were able to stop yourself from screaming HELL YES because the embarrassment that would bring was not something you were ready for. so you reply in a way you have always been good at.

“sure you won’t be too busy with sooji? seems like she’s here just for you tonight.”

“narh. besides, i still have something to prove to you,” his gaze moves down to your legs, shamelessly raising his brows before focusing back to your lips, “ain’t that right babygirl?”

end.

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polaroidpascal · 2 months

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paradise city || joel miller

AO3 || MASTERLIST || FREE PALESTINE

pairing : guitarist!joel x f!reader

summary : when you and your friends go out to a bar to see a local band gig, you can’t help but notice how the guitarist’s eyes somehow keep finding you in the crowd.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU, i imagine joel is in his early 40s, no age gap mentioned, mention of reader’s breakup, mentions of alcohol consumption, joel starts off a little shy but truly there ain’t nothing shy about this man, size kink (kinda?? a little bit??) oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dom!joel, joel gets a little possessive (you’ll see what i mean…), praise kink, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare ofc

fic playlist : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0afpHjoOFylI01OTbV5jol (picture joel playing during the guitar solos in every single one of these songs 😁)

WC : 7.9k… (no one look at me. not a single soul.)

a/n : 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL !! i apologize in advance for all the song lyrics i’ve scattered in this fic… i opted to make a playlist of the songs i think joel’s band would play but there were just too many good ones to pass up and i was losing it a little bit 🫠 also, shoutout to @joelsdagger for constantly yapping with me about this idea and letting me tease her about this absolute menace of a man and also @haileymorelikestupid for beta reading for me 🥹😭 it feels extremely fitting to post a joel fic on international women’s day where he fucks you so good, so i hope y’all enjoy !! <3

You and your friends have had a week.

Deciding you all needed a night to let loose and have fun together, your friend Erica found out about this place hosting a local rock cover band called Fetters Whiskey and thought it might be nice to come see them.

Earlier, you had all piled into the Uber and were headed out, a low girly chatter filling the car. The three in the back harped on about their spouses and all the little things that annoyed them.

“He left the dishes in the drying rack!” “She helped me clean a little too well and used all the cleaner, now we’re all out!”

The complaining did help them destress a bit.

You and Erica were in the second row captain’s chairs of the car, the three in the back doing their pregame de-stressing. “Makes you rethink the whole marriage fantasy, huh?” she jokes, looking over at you playing with the rings on your fingers.

You look up and breathe a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so,” you say with a weak smile.

“Well… have you had any luck finding anyone?” she asks sweetly, sincerely. Genuinely hoping someone has caught your eye.

You had a pretty nasty breakup a while ago, probably about eight months by now. You two had been dating for a while and the breakup honestly seemed to come out of nowhere, like some switch flipped one day and nothing was really the same. Your friends stuck by you through every up and down you had. You felt really lucky to have them.

“No. not yet,” you tell her.

“Well, maybe tonight’s your night,” she says with a friendly smile. “You deserve to unwind and let loose a little, y’know what I mean?” You breathe another laugh. “You do!” she exclaims, hitting your shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I guess we’ll see,” you say, the rest of the car ride seeming to fly by, a part of you kinda hoping she’s right.

The bar is crowded.

You walk in, snaking the group between the crowd and making your way near the stage towards the back of the bar, men and women alike all brushing bodies the closer you get to the stage, drinks in hand, friends chattering away, everyone waiting for the show.

Two of your coworkers disappear to fetch everyone a drink while you and the others stake claim on a little area near the stage. A couple of guys are on the stage setting up the instruments and making sure everything is plugged in right, the lights dimmed enough to not really draw much attention to them. It’s not long before the others join them on stage and start playing. The girls return just in time, handing out the drinks as the music starts.

The band is pretty good (you’re not sure what you were expecting, but you’re more than pleased with how good they sound). They play some fan favorites like Wanted Dead or Alive and I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll, and they mix in some random fun songs like Play That Funky Music.

The drummer is clearly in his own world, head moving at a velocity you would think could give him whiplash. And he’s absolutely killing it, hitting every beat with fervor. You can feel the strikes of the sticks on his drums in the center of your chest.

Another guy seems to be the swiss army knife musician: pretty good at almost everything, filling in wherever he’s needed depending on the song. One minute, he’s playing his keyboard and the next, he’s busting out a trumpet, and the next, he’s busting out a guitar. And no matter what he’s playing, he’s playing it with passion.

The lead singer clearly loves all of the attention he gets. He’s feeding off the crowd’s energy like a cat lounging in the sunlight, basking in every cheer and whistle and fist pumping in the air from the crowd. He practically lives at the edge of the stage, crouching down to sing with the girls but backing up to sing and dance with his bandmates too, bringing them in on some of the harmonies and tying the whole show together.

But by far the unsung hero of this group is the lead guitarist. He hides off to the corner, leg posted up on his amp with the body of his guitar resting slightly on his thigh. He looks down at the instrument carefully watching his fingers strum each cord perfectly, furrowing his brow in concentration during his solos and lifting his head up to the sky. He looks like he feels every note in his blood, expressing it through the expert strum of his fingertips on the strings. He doesn’t have a mic and the singer doesn’t make him sing alongside him very much, but you catch him mouthing all the words and getting into the singing as well.

He’s a particularly pretty man and your eyes linger on him more than the others, always finding their way back to him, and always during the more raunchy lines of the different songs…

Well, I am imagining // A dark lit place // Or your place on my place

I’ma paint his town red // Then paint his wife white

But I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears // By now, no doubt we’re heading south // I guess nobody ever taught her not to speak with a full mouth

…but who can blame you when he has such a reserved, cool vibe. Plus, did you mention that he’s really pretty too?

And maybe it’s the couple of drinks getting to you more than you thought, or maybe you’re just crazy, but it seems like every time you look at him, he’s looking away from you. Like he’d been staring and you caught him. You swear he starts to look ever so slightly more flushed, but it’s practically impossible to see with the colored lights flooding the scene. No, you think, that’s crazy. You’re standing in a crowd of people, there’s no way he—

“Hey, I think the guy on lead guitar keeps checking you out!” Erica exclaims over the loud music and singing crowd.

You turn and look at her, eyebrows raised before you turn back to the stage. He does it again, averting his gaze the second he sees you look and you feel a flutter in your chest. He really is checking me out, huh?

You keep staring at him, waiting for him to look back in hopes that you’re looking away. When he lets his eyes wander back to you, you’re still staring. This time, though, he doesn’t look away. His eyes won’t let him now that you’ve caught his attention — like a fly in a spider web.

He turns his body ever so slightly, facing your direction more than anyone else as he plays the rest of the song. The lights focus on him, colorful spotlights of red and blue illuminating his face as he positively shreds his guitar solo. His fingers expertly tap dance across the neck of his guitar, his other hand working double time to strum on beat and hit every single note. You watch in a complete daze as he finishes, sealing off his musical escapade with the smuggest wink right to you.

He put on a show. All just for you.

Something stirs in your belly, a low heat kindling as the band continues to play. Their next song — god, their next song… — really puts the icing on the cake.

The jack of all trades band member busts out a sound board, the sampled sound of a snare drum filling the space, a warped, funky-sounding instrumental following.

You let me violate you // You let me desecrate you // You let me penetrate you // You let me complicate you

The guitarist shares a mic with the guy on the sound board, offering back-up vocals for the song. He’s getting a little bold now, you think.

I broke apart my insides // (Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell // (Help me) the only thing that works for me // Help me get away from myself

He’s locked eyes with you the whole time, changing the tides of who is winning this staring battle for dominance. Each second his gaze stays on you, you feel smaller and smaller, completely at his mercy. He backs away from the mic, preparing to play and licking his lips in a manner obviously made to make you even dizzier than you already are.

I wanna fuck you like an animal // I wanna feel you from the inside // I wanna fuck you like an animal // My whole existence is flawed // You get me closer to God

He glances back at you from his guitar, a smirk decorating his face before he turns to keep playing the song. You’re in a complete daze. He’s clearly won this battle, and you don’t even know what to do with yourself anymore.

You have to have this man.

Erica caught a some of his little show for you, watching him wink at you and the way your features fell to a focused stare at him. “Girl, get a room next time!” she teases and all you can do is smile back.

When the set is over, you and your friends walk back towards the bar, not wanting to leave just yet. You claim a few of the tiny standing tables, again gathered with Erica at one while the other girls try to cluster around another.

“So…” she starts, giving you a look of anticipation.

“So…?”

“What the hell was going on between you and that guitarist?” she asks, her tone of voice high with excitement.

You laugh, looking down and shrugging your shoulders. “I honestly have no idea,” you say, shaking your head and blushing a little thinking about his little performance. “I thought I was crazy until you said something.”

“Well, whatever it was, you should go for him!” she encourages.

“Please,” you scoff and laugh, “you’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m serious! While you were having your little… whatever you were having, I was watching the whole band, and the other guys weren’t doing what he did. And he didn’t look at anyone else the way he looked at you.”

You stare at her, a blush creeping up on your cheeks and that small fire in your belly growing a little bigger, a little hotter.

Erica looks up over your shoulder, “Oh my gosh, there they are!”

As if on cue, the band walks through one of the back doors. Having just put away their instruments and whatever other equipment they brought. They saunter in, hair wet from the sweat of performing and lifting all their stuff back into their van. Trailing behind the rest is that damn guitarist. He scans the crowd before he sees you, his expression opening with a bit of an urgency as he quickly finds the bar to grab a beer.

You turn back to Erica, mouth dry and nervous. “Please, you have to go talk to him,” she practically begs.

“No, I- I can’t. I don’t even know what to say,” you plead. “I’m so out of practice.”

“Oh, quit it. I saw you looking at him first. You had him going before he got bold with you. You still have game, go get that man!” she says.

“I don’t know, Erica—” you start, but youre quickly caught off by a tap to your shoulder. You turn around and it’s him.

“Hi,” you say, desperately trying to hide the nerves threatening your vocal chords and smile genuinely at him.

“Hi there,” he says. God, his voice is so deep. You couldn’t hear it in all of its beauty before, but it has a bass to it that rumbles in your bones.

You stare blankly at him for a second before you finally pipe up, “Um, that was a good set you guys played.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles, looking down at his beer and leaning against the edge of the table.

Erica watches with wide eyes before announcing, “Well, I’m empty. I’m gonna go get a refill, okay?” She winks as she walks away leaving you and this mysterious guitarist alone together.

You turn your gaze back to him and fully take in his features now. His eyes have their own glow to them that persists even with the dim stage lights littered around this bar. His hair is patchy from sweat but still sits pretty. His strong features demand your eyes and you’re unable to look anywhere but him.

He extends his hand out to you, “Name’s Joel.”

“Hi, Joel,” you say, shaking his hand and telling him your name. He echoes it and it sounds beautiful off his tongue. “Listen, I--”

“Y’know, you’ve got one of those faces that stands out in a crowd, anyone ever told you that?”

You shake your head, “No, not necessarily.”

“Well trust me, we’ve played our share of shows and none of them had a pretty girl like you in the audience catchin’ my eye every two seconds.”

You blush, starting to gather your mind back from the sudden thrust into a conversation with who you think might be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life now that you’ve had time to really study his features up close. “You’re no different yourself,” you offer.

“How so?”

“I’m just saying, you’d think the prettiest member would be the one front and center, not tucked in a corner by an amp.”

His eyes bounce back and forth between your own not breaking contact as he takes another sip of his beer. “I don’t want just anyone lookin’ my way, I guess. You gotta work to see this pretty face.”

“Pretty, indeed,” you agree, stepping ever so slightly closer to him. “You put on quite a show up there.”

He leans down just a bit, closing the gap between the two of you even more, “Well, I did have quite the eager audience, didn’t I?” he asks.

You stare at each other for a moment before Joel starts, never breaking eye contact, “Listen, I don’t really do this… but I also don’t get distracted like I did tonight…”

You inch closer to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah… your friends bring you here?” he asks and you glance at the other table where Erica lingers around your other friends and they’re all looking your way, trying not to be obvious and failing miserably.

“No, we took an Uber.”

“Well, what do you say to savin’ that money you’d pay for an Uber and lettin’ me take you home instead?”

Am I really gonna do this?, you think. Call it a gut feeling or whatever you may want, but the way Joel is looking at you, the way he put on a show just for you, how he spotted you in the crowd to strike up a conversation… Erica did say I need to unwind and let loose…

You grin back at him, “Whose home are we talking about?” you ask.

“I think you know, darlin’,” his tone drops low and deep.

A shiver runs up your spine, that ever-growing fire in your belly burning hotter and hotter. “Come on,” he says, taking your hand in his, making it look miniscule in comparison, and walks you towards the back door he came through earlier. You glance back to the bar, the girls still watching and Erica flashing you a smile and a thumb’s up.

Joel leads you to his truck, opening the passenger door for you. You see the backseat loaded with what must be his personal equipment before his door creaks open and he sits inside, the whole truck bobbing from the sheer size of this man.

He pulls you closer across the bench seat until your legs are touching, his hand snaking around your waist as you relax against his figure and his hands trace your sides.

“I meant what I said, y’know. That you stand out in a crowd.”

You turn to look at him as he quickly glances at you and you slowly bring your arms up, one landing behind his neck while the other cups his face. You slowly, softly, tenderly kiss the spot where his jaw meets his neck leaving open mouth kisses all over. He tilts his head to the side just a little, humming at the feeling and settling his hand right at the swell of your hip, pulling you even closer into his side and squeezing just a bit.

The drive isn’t long at all. He pulls into a parking spot lining the side of the road and once the car is safely in park, he grabs your face with both hands, kissing you deeply. You hum into his mouth, not expecting the sudden movement, and melt into his lips. His soft, warm lips. Your hands trace his body, the two of you unable to get where you want to be from sitting in this truck.

You pull away from him. “Take me inside.”

He immediately leaves the truck urging you to hop out on his side, offering a hand to help you out but not letting go even typing the code for his apartment and after you walk through the door.

You giggle as he pulls you up the stairs of his complex, the two of you itching to have your hands all over one another. You reach the top and he twirls you around in his grip, grabbing you with one hand by the hip and the other cradling the back of your head. He kisses you with an insatiable hunger, like his life absolutely depends on it, as he backs you up until you’re pinned to the door with his entire body pressed against you.

He fumbles with his keys for the lock to his apartment door, lips locked onto you, eyes closed, lost in the soft sweetness of your lips. He snakes a hand behind the curve of your back to brace you as the door swings open and he pushes you inside.

Your hands tangle in his hair grabbing the soft, damp strands unable to pull him any closer but wanting every inch of him in your mouth, on your lips, practically in your skin. You bite his lower lip making him moan a little into your mouth and your hands reach around to his face, wanting to stay lost in the ocean of his tongue and cheeks forever.

He pulls you back and you whine, already missing the warmth and taste of his tongue, but your disappointment is short lived. “God, darlin’… Need to have you.” he says, voice low and completely feral as he grabs you under the swell of your ass and you jump into his embrace. Your hands wander back up to his hair, pulling and grabbing as he trails his kisses down your chin, your jaw, your neck, soft sounds escaping his lips with every tug and whimper you give him.

His legs mindlessly take him to his bedroom, knowing the pathway instinctively. His mouth leaves your body for just a moment when plops you down at the edge of the bed, but he’s right back on you in an instant, reaching down to the hem of your top. You lift your arms for him to pull it off and he removes it in one fluid motion. He moves his hands to the clasp of your bra next. “This okay?”

Your chest aches with these little moments of tender sweetness from him and you nod, letting him remove your bra and he does so with skill, not fumbling for even a second as he tosses it to the floor.

His eyes immediately dart down, taking you in. He’s all but drooling, his gaze burning hot against your skin. He sinks to his knees taking one tit in his mouth and sucking on your nipple. Your hands immediately run through his hair holding him onto you and humming at the feel of his mouth on you. His other hand grabs your other tit, massaging it and thumbing your growing bud before redirecting his mouth to the other side too.

His hands drop to your sides and run up along your ribcage trailing towards your back, closing you in and burying his face into your neck peppering kisses and licks and nips there.

“I gotta have you, baby…” he mutters into your neck. “Lay back on my pillows up there.”

You do as you’re told, lounging against his pillows and the headboard of the bed as he pulls his shirt off over his head and crawls up to meet you, hooking his hands in the belt loops of your jeans. He looks up, his gaze silently asking for permission and you nod. He pulls them down along with your panties in one smooth motion.

You didn’t think about how worked up you had gotten until your hot core, slick with your arousal, meets the cool air of the room sending a chill across your skin. You watch as Joel’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of you, subconsciously licking his lips and softly grunting at the thought of diving in.

You open your legs wider, inviting him in and he settles between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs locking you right where he wants you, all spread and open for him.

He immediately gets to work, unable to hold back anymore and expertly licks through your folds. His warm, wet tongue feels amazing on you as it dances across every nerve ending down there, each one sending fireworks across your skin. You whine and lean back, lifting your hips up to meet his mouth and squirming under his face.

His hands gently rub your thighs while he drinks you down, his nose occasionally hitting your clit making you whine. He draws flattened circles with his tongue, the surface area hitting you just right.

“Yes… fuck yes, that feels so good…” you moan.

He moans back, unwilling to leave you for even a moment and he keeps going. One hand falls from your thigh and you keep yourself open for him as best as you can when you feel his thick, calloused fingers teasing your entrance. He slides his middle finger in easily, so he adds his ring finger too, curling up and finding the softest parts of you. But God, are his fingers huge.

Your walls constrict squeezing his fingers and you leak more slick all over his palm. His other fingers flay across your lips and ass, gripping you slightly and he’s got you locked down.

His tongue continues at your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, the tips curling up and stroking you perfectly.

“Right there, Joel… right there… don’t stop… please, don’t stop…” You feel yourself getting closer and closer, the flame burning in your belly all night erupting into a wildfire and igniting every inch of your skin. You feel a tightness start to grow in your belly, inching down your insides as he keeps going, and going, and going, never letting up and reveling in each twitch of your body.

You look up and see him lying flat, his hips subconsciously moving against his boxers and jeans and sheets, getting himself off just from your taste. Finally, he opens his eyes, dark with lust and locks his gaze with you with one especially deep push and curl of his fingers and another wink. That fucking wink.

“Fuck… fuck…!” It sends you over the edge. The coil snaps and a warm flood fills your body spilling out onto Joel’s hand and into his waiting mouth. He grunts and whines, his tongue never stopping, not even for a second, as he drinks every ounce of your slick getting drunk on your juices.

He only pulls away when you pull him off by his hair, a single line if your arousal still connecting him to you and a groan leaving his lips as he lets you go. You fall back onto the pillow, legs collapsing from their own weight and twitching from your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Joel sits up licking his palm and bringing his fingers up to your mouth, jaw slacked and panting. Your mouth closes around his fingers and he groans, “That’s it, good girl,” he coos and you hum around his digits.

When you fully come back down to Earth, you can’t help but chuckle in the afterglow of your orgasm. Joel rests on his heels gently stroking your knees and you cover your eyes with your forearm, one big sigh leaving your lips. “I guess I should have expected a guitar player to have some skilled fingers,” you joke and Joel chuckles. “That was so fucking good.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not done with you just yet, pretty girl,” Joel teases, holding out his hand to help you sit up. You do and he meets you with a sweet kiss, his hands cupping almost all of your face as he kisses you sweetly.

When he pulls away and you open your eyes, you notice another amp sitting in the corner of the room. This one looks old, unused, and the cable management could use some work, to say the least.

Joel follows your eyeline. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“That’s a lot of cables for a little speaker like that,” you say, following the tangled mess of wires scattered on the floor. “Why don’t you use that one?”

“Jus’ got old. Bought a new one and I didnt need it anymore.”

A depraved idea pops in your head and the question leaves your lips before you can even fully think it through. “Those wires… how strong do you think they are?”

Joel looks back at your face, eyebrow cocked up slightly, “What d'ya mean?”

Your bashfulness catches up quick, a shy blush pricking your cheeks. “I mean… just the outside looks braided, almost… it kinda looks like… I don’t know, kinda like a rope…”

His face softens, a look of intrigue spreading across his gaze. “Go on,” he says, his voice dropping impossibly low, dripping with sultry tease.

You look up through your lashes feeling more vulnerable that you have to ask specifically (he seems to love it, though). “Well… I guess, how well do you think they’d hold a knot…?”

He bites back a smirk but can’t quite hide his excitement. “Kinky…” he says with a little nod. “I like it.”

He rises from the bed but he doesn’t turn to grab the wires. Instead, he reaches for his belt, the buckle clinking against itself. “But you gotta earn it first, sweet girl.” He pulls his belt out of the loops of his jeans and tosses it to the side.

He pauses a second before reaching for the button and zipper, enough time for you to crawl to the foot of the bed and rest your hands on his. You slowly move them away and take over, undoing his button and slowly zipping his pants apart.

You reach under his groin cupping his covered balls in your hand and he hums. He barely fits in your palm and you salivate at what could be beneath those boxers of his. You look up at him with another gentle squeeze before pulling both down, his cock springing out and up against his lower tummy as he steps out of his pants, the tip already red and leaking.

Your eyes widen when you really take in his size and you salivate. You wrap your hand around him and very slowly pump his length, getting a feel for his size and weight and staring at him the whole time.

He looks down at you, eyes still dark and mouth slightly open. “Go ‘head, baby. Kiss it.”

You feel a flutter in your belly again already and you do as he says, kissing the slit before taking the whole head into your mouth and circling your tongue around it. His eyes roll back and he lifts his head up to the ceiling with a groan, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head.

You slowly take him inch by inch making him slick with your spit and using your hand to pump whatever you cant reach. Your other hand gently squeezes his balls and you feel his grip on your hair tighten a bit.

“That’s it, baby… Mouth feels so good f’me…” He starts to slowly push you down his length, taking him deeper and deeper and being careful not to get ahead of himself.

But then you moan around his length sending lightning up his spine and it feels so fucking good… A guttural groan booms from his chest and he starts to slip, pushing you a little too far a little too fast and you gag, pulling off until it just rests on your bottom lip, spit gathering at his tip and spilling over the corners of your mouth.

Tears prick the sides of your eyes and his hand reaches down to wipe them away. “Shit— I’m sorry… are you alright?”

You cough and catch your breath, something new and hot burning through your veins. Something about the way he lost all control… “It’s okay, I’m okay,” you say when you pull yourself together a little bit. You wipe the corners of your mouth and reach up to slowly pump his length again. “Let me try again.”

“You sure, darlin’?”

“I’m sure,” you say, looking up through your tear-soaked lashes, a small smile ghosting your lips as you nod.

He nods back and you take him in your mouth again, closing your eyes and breathing through it, trying to focus on taking as much of him down your throat as you can.

His hands find the back of your head again, not pushing anymore but tangling through your hair as you work.

He looks down and sees your eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration and taking him so well. He drops a hand back down to your jaw, “Eyes on me, gorgeous.”

You carefully open your eyes to look up at him and when you do, his brows furrow with desperation, unable to look away from you as you bob up and down his length, hands once again pumping the length you can’t reach and massaging his balls.

“Shit, baby… that’s it…” he moans, watching the way your cheeks hollow and lips flush red from taking him. He’s twitching in your mouth and you think you’ve got him, flattening your tongue when he touches the back of your throat and swirling up his length as you pull back.

His abs start to tighten and you taste the slightly salty precum leaking from his tip. You work up the nerve to suppress your gag reflex as best you can, taking a few deep breathes before pushing yourself all the way down, taking his cock up to the hilt.

You stay there, letting your protesting throat constrict around him and he whines, his hand in your hair tightening and making you moan, another bolt of lightning taking over his entire being. His cock jumps in your throat and you think he’s a goner for sure—

He pulls you off his length completely and you gasp for air while he catches his breath too. “Nuh uh, baby. It can’t be over yet,” he says breathlessly.

You pout up at him, your doe eyes almost black from how blown your pupils are.

“Get back on the bed,” he demands.

So you do, rising a little wobbly from your knees and crawling back up onto the bed. Joel walks to the corner of the room and unplugs some of the cords plugged into the old amp.

He digs around in his nightstand and pulls out a condom before walking back over to the bed where you’re kneeling on the mattress. He sees you eyeing the little packet pinched between his fingers. “What’s th’ matter?”

You look at him, a blush forming on your face. “Oh, I…” Your mouth goes dry and you clear your throat. “…um, you don’t— I mean, I’m on the pill so, um… If you don’t wanna…” you ramble, trying to find your words but failing in your shyness.

He smiles smugly, tossing the condom to the side. “’S okay. I hear you loud and clear.”

You take a relieved breath and watch him stand there as he starts separating the wires. He twirls his finger in the air and you turn your body to face away from him.

“Gimme your hands, darling,” he says, firmly but gently.

You obey, reaching your hands behind your back. His giant hand easily fits both in one grip and he wraps one cable around your wrists.

You can’t help but smile to yourself, facing away from Joel so he can’t see, but you’re sure it’s audibly obvious when you ask “So this must be where the band name came from then, hm?” as he ties a comfortable knot around your wrists.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Fetters. Like restraints. Usually they’re on the ankles but I guess it’s the same principle.”

He breathes a laugh. “I mean, I didn’t help with the name all that much, but I guess ya’ really do learn somethin’ new every day,” he says just as he tightens the loose, but still restrictive, knot around your wrists.

You shimmy in them a little, surprised at how well they hold together. His hands are still there, rubbing over the covering of the cords and brushing against the warmth of your skin.

“These look real pretty on you, y’know,” he mutters from behind you.

You chuckle and ask, “You tell all the groupies that?”

He grabs your chin to face him, eyes scanning over your face for a second and planting a kiss to your lips before a positively devious smirk spreads across his face. Before you know it, he puts his hand on your back gently pushing down so your chest hits the bed.

“No, I don’t,” he says and you hear his footsteps fade. You sit there, face pressed against the mattress and ass in the air, desperately trying to crane your neck to see where in the world he’s going leaving you like this, all out in the open and exposed.

He treads back into the room and climbs back onto the bed right behind you, calves brushing up against the inside of your own as he grabs your hips to straighten them.

“I don’t tell the groupies nothin’,” he starts. “Usually jus’ ask if they want an autograph.”

The unmistakable click of a Sharpie cap rings in your ears and you feel the cold tip of the pen dragging along the skin right below the small of your back. You gasp, surprised at the unexpected feeling, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man, and you can’t help the butterflies it gives you, the way you mewl so quietly at the thought of him marking you with his name — his signature, no less — in such an intimate place.

You need to find a way to keep this man.

The pen trails off at the end and he recaps the marker, tossing it somewhere to the side before you feel his hands smoothing over your hips. He lets out a low toned, one-note whistle at you, staring at the dark ink branding your lower back. “Now, what a pretty view I have,” he says, a tantalizing, saccharine sweet tone lacing his words.

You can’t hold back the whimper that falls from your mouth at his teasing, his big warm hands rubbing big circles over each cheek.

He sees you clenching around nothing. “Want me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

“Yes, please,” you whine, earning you a light tap on your ass.

He pulls on the cords and wraps an arm around your torso, bringing you up flush to his torso and reaching a hand to your mouth. “Gimme some help.”

You spit into his hand and he hums in content. “Atta girl,” he says, gently laying you back down and pumping his length with the wetness. You feel the tip of his cock rub against your folds and you squirm. He grabs your hip with his free hand as he lines himself up to notch right at your entrance. He slowly pushes just the tip in, the pressure making you moan.

“I gotcha, baby. Jus’ relax f’me,” he coos, pushing inch by inch into you letting you adjust to his size. Your walls twitch at the intrusion and your breathing gets heavier, soft sounds escaping your lips. Eventually, he’s up to the hilt and you swear you can feel him in your lungs. You subconsciously swirl your hips, the movement inside making you whine.

“Shit, baby… so fuckin’ tight…” Joel breathes, squeezing your hips and trying not to lose his cool too quickly. His cock bounces and he grunts, taking a minute before slowly pulling out of you as you whine at the loss. It’s short lived, though, because he’s immediately pushing back into you, the stretch and burn pulling a desperate groan from your throat.

“Fuck yeah, baby. You like how that feels?” he moans, picking up the pace slightly with each thrust.

“Yes— fuck, feels so good…” you moan. The way his cock drags along your walls makes your belly burn hot. His grip on your hips tight and threatening to bruise if he squeezes any harder, but you couldn’t care less. Just another way for him to mark you as his.

“Squeezin’ my cock so good… she’s achin’, baby…” He’s very talkative, you think and decide to play into it.

“She’s all yours, Joel. Pussy belongs to you,” you say as you squeeze him again, the pressure in your belly growing with each gentle kiss to your cervix that his tip gives you.

You feel his pace falter for a second, his grip tightening at that. “Yeah? Say it again. Who’s she belong to?” he says, pounding into you now, unable to keep control of his pace anymore.

You whine loudly with one of his thrusts when he drags up a bit hitting something new inside of you, something your ex surely hadn’t ever found before. Something you definitely had on your own but never this deep…

“Theeere it is,” he coos, pressing your torso down some more to get the angle just right and he’s hitting that soft, spongy part of you with every snap of his hips. You can barely form the words to tell him how fucking good it feels, nonsense whimpers leaving your mouth instead.

“Answer me, baby… Belongs to who?” His pace doesn’t let up and you can’t get the words out. “C’mon, you can do it, gorgeous… tell me…” he insists, slowly rubbing his hand across his own signature that’s been staring back at him.

“Sh… fuck, oh my god… she belongs to you, Joel…”

“That’s my good girl,” he says, leaning down and planting kisses down your spine, snaking a hand around to your front and circling your clit.

You cry out in pleasure, all the sensations getting to be too much. A flood of wetness spills out with a twitch of your insides making Joel’s cock slippery, letting him push in and pull out easier than before. He picks up his pace again with ease, rapidly hurdling you towards the edge.

My good girl…

That one little word finally hits you after a minute.

My.

His unrelenting fingers on your clit… the way his tip hits your cervix with every snap of his hips… my good girl… it’s all too much. “Fuck… fuck… fuck, ‘mgonnacome…” you mumble in a high pitched whine.

“Fuck yes, baby… come all over my cock, that’s it… feels so fuckin’ good, darlin’…” he moans from behind you, the grip on your hips definitely bruising now as he keeps pounding into you. Your back arches and your whole body writhes as your walls squeeze him impossibly tight. Your vision blurs and you have no control over the downright pornographic sounds escaping your mouth. All you feel is warmth everywhere.

“Holy shit—” you hear Joel but he sounds far away, your head still spinning with pleasure. “Fuckin’ hell, baby…” When you feel like you can finally see again, you see a wet spot on the bed and your eyes go wide, quickly craning your head around as best you can and see Joel’s thighs soaked from you.

“Oh, shit— I-I’m sorry, oh my fucking god, I didn’t meant—” you stop mid sentence when Joel plows into you again bottoming out completely, your words trailing off into a wailing moan.

He drags out slowly but quickly regains his momentum. “Fuck, baby… Chokin’ my dick so good… So. Fucking. Hot,” he says, punctuating his words with the slap of his hips on your ass.

Your legs start to give out under you and it’s like Joel already knows you’re almost too gone to take anymore as he unties the knot at your wrists, your arms falling to the bed. He flips you over, managing to stay inside, and lays you on your back. Your hair lays messily on the pillow and Joel leans down to fix it, tracing his fingers along the side of your face and kissing you deeply.

When he pulls away, he stares at your fucked-out eyes, his own completely taken over by his pupils so much that you can barely tell what color they actually are anymore. “Baby, you gotta give me one more…” he begs.

You raise your eyebrows worriedly, unsure if you can actually take anymore. You whine at his ask and he gives you another quick kiss, resting his forehead against your own when he pulls away, your lips barely touching. He’s moving in and out of you at a snail’s pace, so close to his own orgasm that any extra movement would cause him to snap. “Please, baby, I know you can do it. Doin’ so good for me already, just one more…”

You nod weakly and stare through hooded eyes. “Thank you, angel,” he sighs, gently fucking into you a little quicker and peppering kisses at the corners of your mouth. Your hands trail up to his shoulders rubbing up and down on his soft skin. Forehead pressed to yours again, you feel him panting, small moans and whimpers filling your ears.

“Feel so good…” you use all your strength to whimper out, barely above a whisper. His eyes open, brows furrowed in desperation. You feel him twitching hard now, so close to his own orgasm but not wanting this to end.

“S’good, Joel… so big…” He whimpers at your words, his hips moving erratically, unpredictably. He’s close, you think. And it eggs you on.

“Want you to come for me… Please…”

“Yeah? You want it?” he breathes.

“Please…” you say again in a whimper, grabbing his face in your hands.

“Where, baby? Want it inside?”

“Yes, inside… please, please, please…” you beg.

“Come with me baby… wanna feel you squeezin’ me… fuck— c-can you do that?”

You whine and nod, having been teetering on the edge of overstimulation with another orgasm growing in your belly. You roll your hips slightly into him, the extra movement sending shivers down your spine.

“So close, baby, I can feel it… ‘s right there, she’s chokin’ me…” he grunts out, painfully holding back his own until you come undone under him again.

Which doesn’t take long, a flutter of your heart and one big wave of arousal covering you from head to toe making you see stars. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, unable to even make a sound as you come on his length all over again.

“Fuck… fuck… good girl, ‘m gonna come—”

Joel’s breathing quickens, becoming ragged and broken as he grunts and whines and spills inside of you. His lips press to your forehead suppressing his noises with kisses there as he empties himself inside of you, filling you up completely.

Your hands scrape his back at his shoulders, your senses all blurring into one another. Joel’s weight falls on top of you as he moves his kisses down from your forehead to your nose and finally to your lips, his tongue licking into you as you feel his cock finally stop twitching. He sits back to pull out of you watching as his cum leaks out of you. You whine at the loss feeling empty but still so full from him, shivering as you feel it dripping down your body.

Joel wipes his sweat-ridden brow and sighs with a goofy smile as he looks down at you. Your body is still jolting from your last orgasm. Any more and you would have been overstimulated beyond belief.

“Now that I definitely don’t do with the groupies, sweetheart,” he teases.

You give him a playful glare and chuckle at him. “What about all that autograph nonsense, then?”

“Well, you got the first of its kind. Never signed anyone there before.”

You blush and stretch a little, suddenly feeling that damp spot from earlier. You sit up in panic and sit back leaning against his pillows again. “Shit, Joel. I’m so sorry. That’s never happened before, I—”

“Stop,” he cuts you off. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. Sheets can be washed.”

“But I made a mess—”

“C’mere, baby,” he says, extending a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you towards him, both of you on your knees facing each other as his arm snakes around your torso pulling you even closer into him. “‘M gonna get you cleaned up, ‘kay? Got a spare bedroom we can use anyway.”

You stare into his eyes, his words bouncing around in your head. We can use. “We?” you ask.

He scrunches his eyebrows, raising one at you. “What, you wanna run away already? Was it that bad?” he jokes.

“Oh, quit,” you say, playfully hitting his shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, standing up at the end of the bed and holding his arms out to you. “C’mon, pretty girl, how’s a warm bath sound, hm?”

“Sounds amazing, actually.” You grab his hands and stand up, taking a second to get your balance before following Joel to the bathroom.

When you’re all cleaned up, you walk into his living room wearing one of his t-shirts, a pair of his boxers, and some very oversized socks that he left in the bathroom for you to change into, towel drying the rest of your hair so it's not dripping everywhere. He sits on his couch, fresh pajamas on and dampened hair from the shower he took in the other smaller bathroom.

He taps the space next to him inviting you to sit, TV on and low, playing some random movie he found to fill the silence around him while waiting for you. You curl up into him, you warm from your bath and him warm from relaxing. He squeezes you close, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

Erica was right. You really did need this. Maybe it's stupid that you're growing so fond of this guy and you've known him for just a night, but there really is something about him. Something you can't quite explain...

You spend the rest of the night curled up next to Joel, your entire being content and you can only think one thing:

You’re not letting this one go easily. This one’s gonna be yours.

All yours.

a/n : thank y'all again so much for 100 followers, it means so much seriously 💜🫶🥹 and thank you for reading this fic that absolutely got away from me in the end, this idea tortured me for weeks and hopefully letting him out into the world will give me some peace finally 😭 but really, thank you guys so much and i hope everyone enjoys !!

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moominsuki · 1 year

Text

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — anyone would be silly not to love you, katsuki.

࿄ ! warnings — f!reader, no warnings. so fluffy it’s sickeningly sweet.

katsuki knows that he’s a little difficult to deal with sometimes. to love is a different story altogether.

from a young age, he never really cared about what others thought about him. he wasn’t interested in friends, tolerated his family and he didn’t care for women at all. and at 16, he deemed this to be a perfect way to live.

well, now he was 22. who knew that loneliness would hit him in tumultuous spouts of self loathing and bitterness? not him, that’s for sure. he sees his friends getting into relationships and while he’s thankful that they always include him in things despite his brash attitude and sharp tongue, there’s an embittered taste on his tongue that lingers when he sees kirishima and his girlfriend.

katsuki doesn’t think he’s particularly unattractive either and women do approach him; unfortunately, they’re left sour by his mannerisms and deadpan tone of voice. at 18, he didn’t care that girls didn’t really understand him. but four years is a heck of a long time to change your view on things: things being love.

you tell him that anyone would be silly not to love him.

katsuki has known you since he was a stupid, brooding adolescent kid. he thinks it’s a blessing and a curse that you came into his life so forcefully, uprooting yourself and plopping your ass into the middle of it. he’d never tell you but sometimes when he’s on blind dates with the next girl that denki thinks is “the one,” all he can think about is you: especially when his forgettable date orders your favourite, barbecued duck noodle soup, to be exact and he remembers when you made that for him on his 18th birthday.

when you come over to his place to cook dinner and watch a film, you ask about his date and katsuki alludes to the failure of it and that she also “eats really noisily,” a pet peeve of the blond’s. you frown cutely, like you always do when he tells you about the flings that don’t go well.

“well, anyone would be silly not love you, katsuki,” you’d always say and it was routinely with the way he’d stand behind the kitchen island and you’d smile at him, eyes crinkled and shining, making a raspy breath hitch in his throat.

and when dinner was ready, you’d set out both your bowls of dumplings and duck and sometimes you’d put on a netflix show that you really like (katsuki thinks netflix sucks but for you, he’d watch paint dry); however, this time, you opt to just talking, catching up on your day and the plans for the week.

“y’know, blind dates aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway. statistically speaking, your soulmate is probably someone you’ve known all your life,” you say candidly, slurping noisily and katsuki watches you thoughtfully before scoffing, all bemused.

“i speak to maybe four women, including you and my ma. great odds,” and you giggle at that, making his heart jump while some soup dribbles down your chin.

“there’s someone out there for everyone, okay! and who are the other women besides me and your mom?” you raise a brow jokingly and katsuki lifts a hand to softly flick at your head.

“just coworkers. like i said, the odds ain’t great,” he grumbles and you rub at the spot on your head before resting your hand on top of his and lifting it back up to press it to your warm cheek.

“you have me! am i not enough woman for you?”

katsuki’s eyes soften and his thumb subconsciously rubs across your skin.

“plenty ‘nuff woman for me. don’t know who else could put up with me,” he says earnestly and both your eyes widen almost comically at the words that slipped out of his mouth.

he’s about to dejectedly pull his hand away when you slightly lean into his touch, “it’s like i said. anyone would be silly not to love you,” and you angle your face so your plump lips kiss into his thumb.

you decide not to comment on the reddening tips of his ears and the pink dusting across the golden specks of freckles on his cheekbones, to save him from the embarrassment.

maybe it’s the years from knowing katsuki that allows you to always say the 8 words: from seeing him transition from a brash, harsh, emotionally constipated 17 year old who was at least three inches shorter than you (he would vehemently deny the passing of time in which you would tower over him) to an almost 23 year old man, who picks you up from school most days, who’d wash your makeup off when you got too heavy handed with the liquor, who knows your order at the local chinese off by heart and who is now definitely almost a foot taller than you.

before katsuki washes up, he shyly asks you to stay the night - in his own roundabout way of being timid, which includes his heavy voice and a seldom amount of eye contact - and you normally do sometimes, with him sleeping on the couch while you take up his kingsize bed. your heart shakes a little in your chest but of course, you smile in reply and nod. you and him both know that this time, it’s different.

“we can stay in my bed… if you want,” mumbles the man gruffly and this time, you bite back a smile. dealing with katsuki meant that you didn’t like to fluster him at times where he was opening up to you, albeit in small, crumbly pieces.

you nod again and reply.

“of course.”

it’s 9:35pm on the dot when you both settle into the duvet of his huge bed and katsuki is kind of stiff, to say the least, and there’s a metaphorical wall between you two. you think he’s staring straight up to the ceiling, if his breathing pattern and the slight glow of his red eyes told you anything.

“is it okay if we cuddle?” you whisper, turning to your side to face him and you think you did something right because he breaks out of his self-doubting stupor and after a few moments, opens up his arms to your smaller body as a leg wraps around his waist and an arm drapes across his chest.

“you okay, katsuki?” you whisper again. “did i do something?” and he can hear the pout and the furrowed brow in your voice.

katsuki all but he wraps an arm around to pull you closer, “no. just go to sleep, dumbass.”

you pull yourself up and he panics a little but he can slightly make out the smug grin on playing on your lips and your bright eyes in the dark as you lean on his chest to be level with his face.

“i promise no one under the age of 45 goes to bed at half 9. you’re so lucky you have me,” and before he can ask what you mean on “having you,” you press your lips onto his and it’s ended before it even started. the taste of his mouthwash and your chapstick lingers and he’s stiff all over again.

“anyone would be silly not to love you, even if you act like an old man,” you sigh, bonking your head softly onto his and he inhales deeply, playing with the hem of his shirt draped on your body.

“don’ need anyone else to love me when i have you, right?”

he can see the smile that reaches your eyes, crinkles and all.

“you might be right about that,” you hum and katsuki leans up to nose around your jaw before locking lips with you properly.

katsuki knows that he’s a little difficult to deal with sometimes. to love is a different story altogether. but when you look at him like that: like he has the world on his fingertips, encased in ribbon and inscribed in lettering addressed just for you, he decides that he’ll never accept anything but the best.

even if he is a little bit of a grandpa. but you’d be silly not to love him.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #not proofread #i love friends to lovers my heart is bursting #lowkey ooc but who cares #✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕#༝˚૮ .♡ katsuki.

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billiewena · 2 years

Photo

TWO YEARS SINCE NOV 5TH, 2020 as summed up by Supernatural (sequel to this)

⤷ bonus

image ID & context below:

[image ID: screenshots of Supernatural paired with screenshots of various tweets, news headlines and Tumblr posts.

1. Castiel coming out of a closet in SPN 12x08 with screenshots of articles and videos called “Supernatural’s Misha Collins Appears to Come Out as Bisexual,” “Supernatural star Misha Collins appears to come out as Bisexual in the Best Way”, “Misha Collins Comes Out as Bisexual Footage”

2. Kevin Tran in SPN 8x01 saying “You know I’m not gay, right?” With screenshots of articles that read “Supernatural’s Misha Collins Apologizes for ‘Misspeaking’ After Appearing to Come Out As Bisexual,” “Misha Collins Is Getting Clowned About Being Bisexual Then Coming Out As Straight,” and a tweet by Misha Collins that reads, “This was not my intention so I need to correct the record: I am not bisexual. I happen to be straight, but I am also a fierce ally and the last thing I want to do is falsely co-opt the struggles of the LGBTQIA+ community 3/5”

3. Castiel telling a waitress in SPN 14x15, “And between various, steamy, erotic musings” with a screenshot of musician Perfume Genius tweet linking to the article “I have had sex with every actor from the TV show Supernatural” with the caption “I have had sex with every actor from the TV Supernatural. What follows is an account of each erotic event followed by a letter grade.”

4. Dean in SPN 10x10 saying, “And it ain’t gonna cost me a dime” with a screenshot of a tweet from @DiscussingFilm that says, “Nextstar will acquire 75% of The CW for $0. Instead, Nester will assume a significant portion of The CW’s current losses, which could exceed $100M.”

5. Dean in SPN 3x11 saying, “Come on. You love this song and you know it” with a screenshot of spnamvarchive and the 77 total videos in the #honeypie tag. There is also a screenshot of a text post by user iloveyoucas that says “OOH GIRL DONT YOU STOP DONT YOU STOP TIL YOU GET ENOUGH HONEY OH HONEY HONEYPIE HONEY HONEY HONEYPIE OOH GIRL DONT YOU STOP DON’T YOU STOP TIL YOU GET ENOUGH HONEY OH HONEY HONEYPIE HONEY HONEY HONEYPIE” with a gif of people dancing and a screenshot of a Honeypie AMV of Dean Winchester by afeelingsoweet.

6. Lilith in SPN 15x05 saying, “and his very weird, very perv-y obsession with you” with a headline that reads, “Jensen Ackles on his naked Soldier Boy intro on The Boys: ’Nothing on but a sock.”

7. Castiel in SPN 12x18 as he listens to a man say, “You know…like the Queen of England” with a screenshot of a post by whyissupernaturaltrending that says “Sept 8, 2022 - Supernatural trends because the Queen died” with a screenshot of Supernatural trending #1 on Tumblr.

8. Marie in SPN 10x05 saying, “But this is transformative fiction” with headlines that read: “Supernatural Prequel ‘The Winchesters’ Starts on The CW,” “The CW’s The Winchesters is a prequel to ‘Supernatural’”, “Jensen Ackles and The Winchesters Team Promise to carry on the Supernatural Legacy: ‘Trust us.”

9. Dean in SPN 10x05 responding to Marie saying, “You mean fan fiction” with headlines that read: “The Winchesters is a Soulless, Bland Attempt at Recapturing the Supernatural Magic”, “The Winchesters: 8 Biggest Retcons From Supernatural,” “Supernatural’s Spinoff Prequel ‘The Winchesters’ Offers Familiar Pleasures but Struggles building Its Own World: TV Review”

10. Dean in SPN 14x13 saying, “They always talk too much" with a tweet by nuttyforackles recapping a conventional panel that reads, “I should have said I love you too and hugged Cas… people will sexualize that but it’d doesn’t have to be, we were brothers in arms” - Jensen Ackles #spncon #vancon

Bonus: Lucifer talking to Dean in SPN 5x03, saying “Whatever you do, you will always end up here” with the Tumblr logo edited over Lucifer’s head.

/end ID]

#here's to two years friends!#destiel #deancas #November 5th #nov 5th #nov5thposting #spn #supernatural #ntjdmakesthings #I had a moment of panic because netflix stopped allowing screenshots on mac but luckily ya boy found a workaround #my entire career as a screenshotter was almost ruined though

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ceruleancattail · 6 months

Note

Hey, would I be able to may a request for the Sentience ask?

Would I be able to request a female player who is torn between Leona and Malleus? Constantly going back and forth and leveling their cards and loving on both of them please?

Hi! I Hope it’s okay that I made the reader gender-neutral, because I’m more comfortable writing that way. Thank you for understanding.

Sentience presents:

Claws and Flames

Self Aware Leona x Malleus x reader

Tw: yandere, suggestive

The silence gets unbearable, sometimes.

Leona’s hand is rough. Hardened with callouses, scraping against your wrist like sandpaper. He holds you firmly, just like a shackle around your arm. Keeping you bound, right next to him.

Where you belong.

Shifting around, your lips curl into a straight line. Wiggling your arm ever so slightly. In an attempt to slip out of his grip as discreetly as you could.

A snarl stops you right in your tracks. It rumbles like thunder right out of the depths of his gut. A guttural sound that has your entire bloodstream run ice-cold. You freeze, before willing your arm limp once more.

That seems to pacify the beast beside you. Heaving a long sigh that weighed on both of your shoulders, Carmel locks of hair brush against the nape of your neck. Leona plops himself onto his side, leaning into your body.

An oversized house cat, you mused silently. Instinctually, your other hand reached for his mane, running your fingers through gingerly. Massaging his scalp absentmindedly.

“Soft..” You mutter, twirling a strand in between your fingers. Leona merely acknowledges you with a grunt, and a dismal swish of his tail. He seems to lean a little closer, despite his nonchalant attitude.

A beat of silence passes between both of you, before he decided to speak up. Leona straightens up, emerald eyes meeting yours. There was a certain intensity behind those eyes that made you shudder.

“Softer then that lizard would ever be, huh?”

A soft chuckle emerged from behind both of you. The amused laugh of one so assured of victory. Gloved hands caress the curve of your cheeks gingerly, fingertips lingering on the plush of your lips before they pull away. The warmth tingled ever so slightly, before vanishing into thin air.

A weight pressed itself into your other shoulder. Ebony hair spilled onto you, as glossy as raven’s feathers. Something sharp jutted into your face. A pair of horns, sharp as daggers.

One wrong move, and they might just draw blood.

Your lips move before you could even form a complete thought.

“Malleus…”

The sound of your voice seems to delight him. Nuzzling into the curve of your neck, Malleus beams at you happily. Lips curling into a bright smile, eyes looking at you and you alone.

A dry cough, choked out onto a clenched fist. Leona narrows his eyes at Malleus, gaze shape enough to wound. He speaks, each and every letter of his words dripping with venom.

“What are you doing here, Draconia?”

Tilting his head politely, Malleus opts to ignore Leona’s words. He instead contents himself with pressing his lips into the bare skin of your neck. It’s warm, like the cockles of a roaring fireplace. Giving you a little peck of… affection, so to say.

Satisfied with his kiss, Malleus glances up at Leona. The ghost of a smirk dancing across his lips.

“I don’t hear my darling complaining about my presence, Kingscholar. Perhaps I am favoured a little more then you… were.”

A growl falls from Leona’s lips, before you feel his grip on your chin. Pressing hard enough to bruise, he yanks you towards him, trapping your lips within his. By the time he’s done, you’re a stuttering mess, lungs desperately scrambling for air.

“Ain’t no complaints on this end too, coat hanger.”

Leona drawls, smugness radiating off his very being.

Both of them glare at each other, before their gazes fall on you. An unspoken question burning within both of their stares. This wouldn’t be the first time they asked.

Just who do you favour?

You’ve chosen silence time and time again. Being honest, you do care for them both. Investing your time and resources into both of their cards, cheering for them both in the story. It’s safe to say you loved them both… when you were still on the opposite side of the screen, that is.

Now, you’re caught between two walls of flame. Swirling passions lapping at you with forked tongues, hungry for every crumb of affection you could dispense. Choosing one over the other will surely send the other into turmoil. The resulting destruction wasn’t something you wished onto this world.

So you remain silent. The heat was still bearable… for now.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus Draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus #Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x reader #Leona x reader #Leona #sentience #self aware au

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bunji-enthusiast · 3 months

Note

HAIII IDK IF REQUESTS ARE OPEN BUT IF THEY ARENT, IGNORE THIS

Howeverrr

Could I request a Dogday x reader where reader is coming down from a bad day and just needs some company?

IF SO THANK YOU IF NO ITS OKAY

Point A To Z

Note || absolutely, such a cute request ❤️

WC || 651

Sypnosis || Even after a bad day, DogDay will always be there for you.

Dilapidated banging of metal and rust resounding all throughout the Factory, if you weren’t among the building at it’s liveliest, how was one even living? You knew better, you knew otherwise. You were close to hanging up your withered wings, to be brought into this world and be nearly wrung out without a care in the world will be your thirteenth reason. Nobody would be capable of convincing you otherwise.

You had debts to pay however, a debt to living the existence you eventually come to know and love. From then and there, you were still learning to love living–ain’t everyone?--sorely enough, though there are moments where it kills you. You’ve had moments where you don’t regret the decisions you made, because you lived it.

Not today however.

Not now.

Life felt cute, deciding to bestow you with a girgaum of paperwork at the foot of your door.

Audibly groaning, you sat down near the playing area for where the children are currently playing as of now. You just wanted to take a nap, you couldn’t unfortunately, that would be ethically bad manners and not Employee Regulations. So instead, you had opted for finding peace in watching the children be joyful amongst themselves.

Adjacent to your position, a fellow employee had taken notice of your presence, seeing how down to the dumps you looked.

“Is [First Name] alright?” He spoke out to a playcare attendant, speaking out to DogDay in particular. The employee knew that DogDay had a knack for helping people and toys alike when they are feeling particularly bad about themselves.

DogDay perked up at the employee’s question, “Oh, the angel? Where are they?” He inquired with a steady tone, wanting to see where you were. It was busy in the playing area, full of children and employees watching over the Playcare Attendants and children alike, so he could not spot you that easily.

The employee nodded, then pointed steadily in your direction. “Over there by the entrance on the fence, I’m pretty sure.”

In return, DogDay muttered an audible breath of thanks and stood up, his frame towering overtly every child in the room. From what he could read on your distressed face, especially down to your nerve-wracked body, you were not in high spirits whatsoever.

DogDay was unshaken, making his way past the bodies of people all the way over to you. He subconsciously made steps to where he could make it to you without tripping and falling flat on his face; DogDay was used to the area.

Once the giant dog had finally made his way across, you felt his presence looming over you, causing you to turn and look up to get a proper look at–

“DogDay?”

He nodded, kneeling down as he didn’t want to disturb you with any sudden movements. “I notice… you aren’t feeling well, as okay?” DogDay gestures, trying to not imply any misinformation of the sort. Suddenly, a laugh escaped you, that was the first time in a while today you could genuinely feel a longer period of happiness without it being interrupted by anything.

When you have calmed yourself, you reply with, “Just a bad day, nothing new to me.” You sigh heavily, leaning forward as you propped your chin upon the palm of your hand.

Upon hearing this, DogDay’s body became denser than usual with concern. He wrapped his long arms around you, cuddling up against you so you would began to relax

“Can you let go now?"

“Do you feel better, Angel?” He replied, not letting up on his hugging. Though, DogDay had relaxed his grip just enough so you wouldn’t feel suffocated.

“No!” You retorted, yet how your body was had betrayed your angry little spat. Visibly relaxing and just merely reveling in his company. DogDay squeezed you, nuzzling the back of your head as he made himself comfortable.

“Then it hasn’t kicked in yet!”

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday poppy playtime #x reader

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moonlitdesertdreams · 3 days

Text

Skip the small talk

Request: None A/N: Again, I just want to thank everyone for supporting my stories and liking/commenting/reblogging/etc. It means the world to have such great reception to these one-shots. So please, enjoy this lil' story about the reader being a badass :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, drug use, decapitation Summary: You really weren't looking for trouble. All you wanted was something to eat, but of course things go awry. This is the Wasteland, after all.

Word Count: 2.6k+

(Gif Credit to @acecroft)

Thunder booms across the Wasteland, combining with the sound of heavy rain on metal rooftops.

It continues in tandem with its partner Lighting, who illuminates the hazy green poison that hangs low in the air tonight. The storm has been raging for hours, and doesn’t seem to be on the verge of letting up anytime soon.

After hours of tossing and listening to the howl of the storm, you decide to give up on sleep for the moment. The inn room you’d acquired is small but cozy, lit only by a couple candles that burn bright orange on the side table. You untangle yourself from Cooper where he lies half-naked beside you, scarred skin on display while in the security of your arms. As per usual, he crankily grumbles curses at you for causing a disturbance, but there’s no malice behind the words. His eyes blink open and lock on to you, immediately more alert at the prospect of you venturing away.

“What’re y’doin’?” His question is thick with sleep, forced through the haze by this codependency you’ve developed on each other.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and reach a hand back to brush his arm gently. “Thunder’s keeping me up. I’m gonna go see if the saloon downstairs has anything in the way of food.”

Cooper opens his mouth to respond, but a cough cuts him off. You pluck his inhaler from the nightstand and press it into his waiting hand. The cough wasn’t unusual, but you’d been traveling for days on end in search of a bounty and knew Cooper was putting on a facade of toughness. Everyone needed rest, and The Ghoul just didn’t know when to admit it.

“Go back to sleep.” You murmur, “I’ll only be a minute.”

He relents, but points a finger in your direction. “Fine. But they got anythin’ good, you bring me some back too, huh?”

You snatch the hand out of the air and press a kiss to his palm. “Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep.”

And since the Wasteland’s most fearsome bounty hunter would rather live through ten more atomic bombs than not have the last word, he scoffs.

“Bossy fuckin’ woman.”

You giggle at Cooper’s tough love as you tug thick tights and a long gray jacket onto your body. Out of pure habit, you look around for a weapon. Yours are stashed on the other side of the bed, but Cooper’s shotgun is propped against the wall by the door. You opt to grab it, slinging the gun onto your shoulder and making sure the strap is secure before cracking open the door.

The old clock hanging in the hall reads one thirty in the morning, but the sounds from the saloon downstairs continue as normal. Perhaps a bit more toned down than the daytime, but voices still mingle and dance together up the stairs. You trail after them, patting your pockets to ensure there’s enough caps to pay for a hot meal. Cooper’s half-canister of Jet and the wrinkled bounty poster sure ain’t going to pay for anything.

Eyes flicker towards you as you step onto the main floor, but they return back to their own tables soon enough. Everyone’s clad in raincoats or hats, outfitted for the weather. The town was a central point for a few settlements which popped up around it, and a major trade destination. The frequency of armed caravan guards passing through proved to be a rather decent deterrent for the unpleasant types, and most people had been nice to the point of frightening.

At the bar, you pull out a rusty stool and settle onto it. All the other patrons but one are at tables closer to the door. The same man who’d rented the room to Cooper and yourself is down the bar chatting.

“No surprise there. They’ve got some questionable folks runnin’ cargo these days.” The bartender is saying. He drops his hands on the bar. “But they take what they can get.”

The other man at the bar is older, just like the bartender. Dressed in dirty clothes, hood up with heavy gloves next to him, you figure he might be a lead farmer. You give a brief nod his way before focusing back on the bartender as he slides over.

“What can I do for you, ma’am?” For someone out in the Wasteland, his face is kind. Weathered and probably suffering from radiation poisoning like the rest of you, but kind nonetheless.

“Got anything hot to eat back there?” You ask, but think better of it. “Or anything to eat?”

“You’re in luck. One of the trade caravans left us with an old brahmin yesterday. Fresh brahmin steak if it tickles your fancy?”

You toss the caps onto the bar. “Sign me up.”

He busies himself at the cooking station for a few minutes, and eventually delivers a steaming steak in front of you. He checks on the other bar-goer and floats back over to you after a few minutes.

“So, I have to ask.” He starts, “You came in here with that ghoul, yeah?”

You pause, mouth full and one hand instinctively freeing itself for a weapon if necessary. He must have caught onto your bristling, as he holds both hands up in a placating gesture.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothin’ bad, I was just curious. We don’t get a lot of ghouls around here, let alone people traveling with them.”

Hell, there was no need for him to tell you that. Cooper and yourself brought stares everywhere you went, discounting the cities you frequented that knew you both by reputation. You’d been called every name in the book in small communities like this, from chem-head, to ghoul-fucker and anything people could come up with.

“Yeah, we travel together. Easier to stay alive and make money when there’s two of us.” You saw off another piece of steak.

“Bounty hunters, then?”

You shrug. “Sometimes. We do whatever needs doing most of the time. If the price is right.”

If Cooper was next to you, he’d be spewing threats of dismemberment and cutting out tongues for all the questions, but you didn’t mind. It was nice meeting someone who wasn’t immediately training crosshairs on your body.

“Fair enough. I’m Clint, if you need anything.” The bartender wipes his hands with a rag and moves about his way, readjusting liquor bottles and carrying beers out to tables that are hollering for them.

You finish your steak and gulp down the water Clint had set in front of you at some point. It washes away the gamey taste of mutated beef. You wait for him to return, as you were sure that fresh brahmin steak qualified as ‘anything good’ in Cooper’s eyes.

“This seat taken?”

You barely glance over your shoulder at the question, but give a half-hearted shrug. There was a whole bar and whoever this idiot is wants to sit next to you?

“Nuh-uh.”

The stool scrapes against the uneven wood floor, and you look over at the man that’s sat himself beside you. He’s younger than you expected, but vaguely familiar as if you’ve passed by him before. Brown hair slicked back close to his skull and shaved on the sides, and a distinct pale discoloration on his chin. There’s a valiant attempt at beard growth but it’s patchy at best.

You stare for just a moment before returning to the drops of water left in your dirty cup.

“Now, I can see you’re not from around here.” His tone is boyish, almost conceited.

Narrowly resisting an eyeroll, you set your cup back down. “Aren’t you just a right scholar?”

“I know a few things.” He waves his hand at Clint as he returns, and a beer is set in front of him moments later. “I know that you rode into town tonight, looking for a bounty.”

Lightning illuminates all of the cracks in the building. Thunder rolls.

It takes a moment, but hits you as a smile is breaking out across the man’s face. You hadn’t passed by him before or traded. Your hand ghosts over the folded-up bounty poster in the pocket of your coat.

“Name’s Spade, by the way.”

Fuck. You’d never forget the name of a bounty. Especially the one set to inherit an entire Gunner outfit that had been threatening caravans for miles in every direction.

“Spade, huh? Named after a shovel?” You prod. “No wonder you ain’t good at making friends.”

Spade calmly sips on his beer. “Neither are you, I hear. Though that might be due to your choice in company.”

Turning your head all the way towards him, you entertain the banter. Trying to avoid the subject of having a partner. You didn’t doubt if the shooting started that Cooper would come running down the stairs, but surprise is always an advantage.

“Yeah, I’m starting to question it myself.”

“I heard you were funny.” Spade chuckles, and withdraws a bulky device from underneath his coat. It crackles and pops like a geiger counter. “But I know you didn’t come here alone.”

You listen to the device pop, but don’t recognize it.

“Say, how much Rad-Away do you go through? Traveling, eating, sleeping and whatever else with The Ghoul must really fuck with your health. His radiation signature is all over you.” Spade tucks the device away.

“Don’t worry, I wear lead-lined panties.” You pat your thighs and stand. “And I don’t have time for this.”

Just as you make it to your feet, you notice the rest of the patrons do the same. They all shrug off their raincoats and reveal standard Gunner clothing, and you pause. Betraying nothing, you simply stare. Counting eleven opponents including Spade. Too busy thinking about how you grabbed Cooper’s shotgun and no extra ammo because you’re apparently a fool. The one combat knife in your boot is a viable choice, but tough to handle so many. You note Clint’s swift exit out the back door of the establishment.

“All this firepower for me?”

Spade follows suit, and stands. He towers over you.

“Don’t play dumb. I know they want me dead, and I’m not keen on letting that happen.”

You nod. “Understandable.”

And it’s then one of his men gets twitchy, and you’re diving behind the bar at the cocking of a gun.

Spade hollers something at the men that sound suspiciously like “kill her”, but the thunder drowns him out. You press your back up against the bar for cover, and whip the shotgun into your grip. You feel at the knife in your boot, and brush past the Jet in your pocket.

“Fuck it.”

You draw out the inhalant and put it between your lips. Bracing for the adrenaline rush, you squeeze the Chems into your mouth. Not much of a frequent user, you resist the urge to cough and waste the effects.

In just a few seconds, the world around you feels as if it’s moving in slow motion. You leap up from behind the bar, aiming and popping off the two rounds you have into the groupies that Spade brought along. One slug crashes through two of them while the other blows another’s head to pieces.

Three down, eight to go.

You sling the gun back over your shoulder and draw the knife. In your peripheral, you notice Spade reaching for his waistband. On pure instinct, you whip the knife in his direction. It finds his mark in his right eye, and he goes to the ground wailing. Just as the Jet begins to wear thin, you hop over the bar towards the crowd.

“Fuck her up!”

You bend down near Spade’s writing frame, and rip the knife out of his eye socket with a wet squelch. Leaving him for last, you twirl the knife around and beckon at his cronies.

“Well?”

You lunge towards the closest, thrusting the knife at his throat. He catches your wrist and twists it away, but you’re quick to jam your elbow upwards into his chin. It stuns him just enough that you can stab the knife into his guts and rip sideways. Entrails spill, and you reach through them to grab the pipe pistol at his hip.

The next few go down via bullet, and you’re eventually left with only Spade alive. He’s clawed his way to his feet as you finished off his gang, and now has an automatic pistol pointed at your head. It wavers dangerously, as he’s half-blind and still spurting blood from the wounded eye socket.

You drop the pistol that’s been occupying your right hand and hold up the knife.

“Wanna get reacquainted?”

Spade bares his teeth at you. “And here we brought all the guns for The Ghoul.”

A shrug. “I’m sort of offended that I was underestimated.”

“I’ll make a note of it.”

Spade pulls the trigger as soon as you duck. His intentions were given away by the fractional squint of his good eye, struggling to aim properly. You charge towards him beneath the rounds, colliding with his knees. The bullets fly upwards, blasting holes in a narrow column up the wall. It sends splinters flying near the staircase.

“Motherfucker!”

About fucking time Cooper decided to show up.

You straddle Spade’s body and knock the pistol away. One boot keeps his wrist pinned down, and you bring the knife to his neck.

“Next time,” You growl, tracing the blade along his Adam’s Apple, “Skip the small talk.”

Blood sprays as you apply pressure, puncturing through his carotid. You drag the knife to the side, leaning away to avoid the spray as best as possible. Until he stops twitching, you keep him pinned to the ground.

“Well goddamn baby, next time invite me to the party.” The Ghoul, as Spade had referred to him, swaggers over to you. His honey-soaked eyes survey the carnage. “I thought you was gettin’ something to eat, not takin’ out our bounty so soon.”

You wipe your bloody hands on Spade’s coat and huff indignantly. “And I thought your old ass would move faster when you heard gunshots.”

Cooper holds out a gloved hand to help you up. “Thunder blocked out the sound.”

“Excuses, excuses.” You grumble, allowing him to pull you up.

The world spins, thanks to the adrenaline fading and Jet withdrawals. You stagger into Cooper, and he grips your arm.

“You ain’t shot, are ya? Left the stimpaks upstairs.”

You shake your head and let him steer you onto a barstool. “Nah. Jet.”

Cooper whoops. “My girl! Well shouldn’t we just be celebratin’ this momentous occasion.”

“Fuck you. I’m not doing anything but going back to bed.” You press your forehead into his chest. “Fuckin’ Chems.”

The Ghoul chuckles and uses two fingers to hold and lift your chin. He kisses your lips, already dry from licking at them. You hold the lapels of his coat to keep upright and only pull away when another pang of dizziness wracks you.

He steps away for a moment, and gets to work removing Spade’s head from his body to return for the money.

“Damn.” You rub your temples. “How the hell do you use that shit all the time?”

“Years of practice.” Cooper hums, and finds a burlap sack behind the bar to package the head. “Sure worked good for you, huh?”

You hop from the stool, using the bar as a crutch to stay upright. “Uh huh, right up until it didn’t. Now I wanna go to bed. Desperately.”

“Fine, fine.” Cooper relents, bloody sack in hand. He follows you to the stairs, free hand ghosting over your hip.

The Ghoul hovers behind as if you’re going to start cartwheeling back down, and herds you back into the rented room. You strip and crawl back in bed, hiding away from the cool air beneath the blanket. Cooper takes his time, but eventually blesses you with his body heat. You cozy up, letting it burn away the symptoms of Jet withdrawals.

“Did you ever get somethin’ to eat?”

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

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cal-flakes · 10 months

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Dealer! rafe x reader

reader is needy so when rafe is driving with reader on his way to a deal she starts teasing him resulting in her giving him head while he drives

i got a few of these requests, so hopefully this is what you horny motherfuckers wanted <33

╰┈➤ car blowjobs

warnings: very nsfw.

summary: rafe’s had enough of y/n’s attitude. (blurb)

“stop being a fucking brat y/n, get in the car” he ordered, pushing her out of the front door.

rolling her eyes, she stomped towards his range rover, sulking until he unlocked it.

she’d woken up with a menacing smile that morning, determined to push her luck until he fucked the attitude out of her. so far, she was getting no where.

rafe had a busy day today, and it couldn’t be derailed by her incessant need for his cock, not today. usually he’d give in almost immediately, but he and barry had shit to do, and he couldn’t be distracted.

she rolled the cherry lollipop in her mouth obnoxiously, purposely grinding it against her teeth to wind him up.

“stop it” he spat, his knuckles turning white against the steering wheel. “stop what?” she joked, an innocent look in her eyes as he glared at her.

opting to ignore her, he turned back to the road, biting at his cheek.

rafe managed about five minutes of peace until the grating noise coming from her mouth started again. sighing heavily, he yanked it from her mouth, throwing it out of the window.

“what the hell?” she shrieked, a frown settling on her face. her eyes darted between him and his free hand, now moving to undo his belt.

“what are you doing?” he sighed once more before turning to her, eyes closing for a second in frustration. “suck my cock and shut the fuck up y/n” he growled.

the frown on her face flipped as she hastily took off her seat belt, positioning herself over the console.

gentle grabbing the base, she rolled her tongue around the tip of his cock, inciting a string of moans from his throat.

tangling his free hand in her hair, he pushed her further onto him, coating his length in saliva.

“that’s it..keep going..” he groaned, attempting to pay attention to the road.

the ringtone of his phone sounded throughout the speaker system as barry’s name popped up on the screen.

y/n moved to pull away but instead rafe held her in place. “no, you wanted this all day, you keep going”

tapping the green button, he answered the call. “hey country club! you comin?” his friends voice boomed through the car, causing y/n’s to cheeks to turn pink. “yeah man, i’m about ten minutes away…fuck..” rafe hissed, tugging y/n’s hair slightly.

“aight, you wanna hurry up though, this deal ain’t gonna wait forever bro” with that, rafe ended the call. his grip on her hair only tightened as he bobbed her head down on him, effectively fucking her face.

tears brimmed along her waterline at his roughness, her fingers digging into his thigh.

“almost there baby, don’t make a fucking mess this time yeah?”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #obx #rafecameron #dom!rafe #rafe obx #rafe smut

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strxwberry-milku · 3 days

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐀 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐧 ?

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 @trc-punzel ✰part3 of the Gif euphoria series

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Roomate!Jimmy x Reader x Twin!Jey

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You always had a thing for twins…

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,006

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Daddy k*nk , Gagging , Cream Pie , Spitting

Looking for cheap apartments were really hard to find especially when you just recently moved into Las Vegas. For the past couple of weeks you have been staying in a motel browsing the internet in search of an affordable apartment . It was now night time, and even though you were tired and exhausted you still decided to keep doing your research. Low and behold you found yourself a perfect apartment with everything you needed in it,the only slight problem was that you’d be sharing it with a complete stranger….. you would deffo have to pad lock your room or sumn cause you can’t trust people nowadays. Being sneaky and shi you opted to find out who you were sharing your apartment with, so you searched up this app called “ roommate finder”.

Typing up the apartment complex info that you’ll be moving in too, it was able to spot the resident you would be staying with. “ So his name is Jimmy huh ?” you smirked and kept on scrolling through the pictures he added unto the website . “ He’s so fineeee Lord help me” you took a deep breath as you could feel your cooter mama starting to get a bit wet, laughing at your own stupidity you closed your laptop and sat it aside on your bed side table and proceeded to go to bed since tomorrow would be an eventful day seeing as though ur moving in with the roomate.

THE NEXT DAY

“ Thank you so much ” you smiled to the man who helped carry your luggage up to your apartment door, “ No problem Miss ” the man called “Jerry” presuming from the name tag clipped onto his milky, white shirt smiled and then turned around to head back to his truck. Taking a deep breath you finally examine the exterior of the building infront of you.

( pick which one you like )

Smiling you pick up the keys from your back pocket and push it into the key hole , rotating it to the right , the door slightly opens signifying that you can go in. Upon entering, you see…..

୨୧ JIMMYS POV ୨୧

“ Ay! Yo Uce! pass me the salt real quick” I say and continue to stir the pot of spicy, authentic Jamaican soup I made. Just as Jey was about to pass me the salt , I hear the front door squeak open. Halting my movements I quickly turn around attempting to catch whoever was brave enough to enter this house , knowing damn well I got my strap on me . ( boy please 🙄) I make eye contact with this very pretty woman “ Damn she sexy asf” I thought in my head ;forgetting that a complete stranger was in my house, biting my lip I futher study her curvaceous figure . I could deffo tell she keeps up with her maintenance because her skin was flawless and glistened like gold in the sunlight , not a single imperfection to be found and her long pink bow decorated nail set , sat perfectly on her delicate fingers.

“ And who tf is you ?” my brother rudely interupts. Visbly taken back from his sudden outburst she meekly responds “ I’m Jimmy’s new roommate…” Poor thing , she must have to be confused and have the wrong Jimmy because from what I know of, the app that I have on my phone ( Roomate Finder ) hasn’t notified me of any new incomers.

୨୧ JEY’S POV ୨୧

I had to laugh because ain’t now way this bitch gon come up in this house and claim to be my brothers new roomate when he doesn’t even have one , she must be drunk or sumn, though now that I’m looking at her properly she does look kindaaa…..Sexy . “ Bitch, get tf out!, you ain’t nobody’s roommate “ I said harshly as I place down the salt on the kitchen counter and hastily make my way towards her shy form. Now you can say that I’m a bit of an asshole for shouting at her ( ya think? 🙄) but what would you do if a random stranger randomly came inside your family’s house ? the same thing right ? mhmm thought so .

୨୧ JIMMY’S POV ୨୧

quickly grabbing my brothers arm , I drag him back “ Chill out bruh , clearly this is a misunderstanding ” I said and sat my brother down on one of the high top chairs around the counter . Turning my attention back towards her I gesture her to come inside. “ Jimmy are you dumb ? she could be a murderer for all we know !” Jey whispered aggressively making sure to keep a close eye on her every movements . “ Relax, I got this” I say and leaned back onto the fridge . “ Sooo you said you were my roommate. Is that correct?” I questioned with a straight face.

୨୧ YOUR POV ୨୧

I sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.Why is this man acting slow ? and who tf is that other midget shouting at ? anyways lemme keep my cool. “ Yes I just recently moved into Las Vegas about four weeks ago, I found a perfect apartment , which is this one and saw that I would be staying with a roomate , so obviously I had to check that I’m not bout to be living with some mad person, No offence” I paused and made eye contact with the man supposedly named Jimmy . He chuckled a bit “Nah it’s fine, I understand ” Smiling at his response I continued my story. “ Being noisy and shi I browsed the internet until I came across this website called ‘Roomate Finder’ and typed up the name of the apartment I would be staying in, I saw most of your pictures pop up and information about you, You seemed kinda cool and not weird so i decided to take the risk and live here.” There expressions were nothing short of confusion, I wanted to laugh so bad.

“ Hollup, lemme see sumn real quick ”…..

PT2. WITH THE SMUT SCENE COMING NEXT

#jey uso #jey uso x reader #jimmy uso x reader #the usos #wwe #roman reigns #my original fiction #roman reigns x reader #wwe superstars #jey uso smut #jimmy uso x you #main event jey uso #my original content #my followers

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kaleldobrev · 9 months

Text

Shiny New Toy (2)

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Fem!Virgin!Reader

Summary: With one orgasm down, Dean is starting to have a little bit more fun with you

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (4x), Smut (Oral Sex, Fingering), Degradation

Authors Note: Hope you enjoy part 2 of my Demon!Dean smut mini-series! | Things are starting to heat up now ;) | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

“You know what I really want to do my little virgin?” Dean asked. You weren’t sure if he had wanted you to answer or not, so you opted to stay quiet. Although you couldn’t see him at the moment because he was behind you, you could sense the eye roll. “That’s your cue to answer doll.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Your sorry’s came out quick, sounding slightly afraid. “Um, what do you want to do to me?” You asked. The question was innocent enough, but you knew his answer was going to be far from that.

In that moment, both of his hands smacked hard against your shoulders, and you let out a small yelp, not expecting the contact. A small chuckle escaped his lips. He leaned down a bit, just enough to press his lips to your ear. “I want to see how that innocent little mouth of yours feels around my cock.” Fuck. You thought to yourself. “Never sucked dick before right? I’d be your first?” You nodded. “Hmmm. I didn’t quite catch that. What did you say?”

You let out a defeating sounding sigh. “No.” You replied weakly.

“No what?” He asked. You couldn’t believe he was actually trying to make you say it. And you knew why, you had never talked about things like this before, well, not with Sam or Dean anyway. You didn’t mind talking about sex, but you didn’t really know what to talk about when it came to the subject because you lacked experience. Hell, you’ve only seen porn once, and that was completely on accident. You really were a virgin in all senses of the word, even when it came to watching porn.

“No, I’ve never sucked cock Dean.” You said. You almost felt yourself shudder at the words, almost disgusted with yourself that you had uttered them. But at the same time, there was a small part of you that had actually liked saying it.

“That’s what I thought.” He nodded, confirming. He came to the side of you, removing his hands from your shoulders. “The amount of times I’ve pictured you sucking my cock, doll…” his hand gripped your jaw tightly, making you look him in the eyes, “God. More times than I can count.” His eyes flashed black quickly, before turning the normal green that you had loved. “Sometimes when you were talking, I would be too damn distracted because I couldn’t help but just stare at this cute mouth of yours. Picturing myself disappearing between those lips.” He smirked, his words were more casual than you had expected. You knew Dean had no issues talking about sex, but this was probably one of the first times since you’ve known him that he’s gotten explicit with it while you’ve been in the room.

“Dean.” You said.

“That’s my name.” He responded. “What’s up baby?” He removed his hand from your jaw and found himself walking back over to the table.

“I’m…I’m nervous.” You weren’t sure if you should have shared that information with Dean or not.

A smirk formed on his lips. “Sweetheart…” he walked back over to you, finding himself behind you again. “I’ll tell you what.” He began. “You being nervous, I really couldn’t give a rats ass. This, this whole thing? It ain’t about you.” His voice was so cold, not the usual warmness it usually radiated. “Y/N.” You hated the way he said your name now. “Nervous or not, I’m taking what I want. And what I want, is for you to suck my dick, getting it nice and ready for yourself when I not only fuck that cunt of yours, but that ass too.” He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure your cunt and ass are nice and prepped for me cause, I’m not average by any means.” He leaned down whispering in your ear again. “I know you’ve seen it.”

About a year ago (the one time that you had accidentally watched porn) was the same day that you had first seen Dean’s dick. When you went to his room you had knocked, but when he didn’t answer you opened the door and had found him lying on the bed with his hand wrapped around his dick jacking off to some random porno on the TV. It was a sight that you had never actually wanted to see, but it was something that you hadn’t been able to get out of your mind since then. If you were being honest with yourself, you did (from that time on) start masturbating to that scene.

“Alright, so here’s what’s gonna happen.” He began, snapping you out of your thoughts. “As much as I love having you chained up, I’m gonna unchain you. This way, we can have a lot more fun.” He said. “But, here’s the catch. If you try and run out of here, try and do anything that isn’t being my little slut right now, you get chained right back on the table and I get to use these fun little toys here on the table. Got it?” You nodded. “Good.”

You were now unchained from the table, but you hadn’t moved away from it, afraid to actually get off despite you being chained to this for an unknown period of time. The room was so industrial looking, not the kind of place you’d have wanted to have sex for the first time, let alone have sex at all. You rubbed your wrists for a minute, watching Dean. His eyes were fixated on you, watching your every move, making sure you didn’t seem like you were going to run. Even if you did manage to run, where would you go? You were in Hell. And in Hell in just a bra no less, who knows who could find you. At least you knew Dean, despite him not fully being himself.

Dean approached the table, and placed his hands on either side of you, your knees were against your chest, and you simply stared up at him, staring at this evil grin that seemed painted to his face. “No need to hide Angel.” He said, slowly spreading your legs away from your chest. They moved without any kind of fight. He looked at your chest then and started playing with the straps of your bra. “This gotta go. Don’t you think?” He asked, but not really asking you. Grabbing the knife nearest to him he cut the straps off. “Take it off.” He demanded. Without hesitation you did what he asked if you and removed the bra, tossing it to the side.

As soon as you removed the bra he placed the knife back down and started cupping your breasts, playing with your nipples that had started to become hardened from his touch. “God you’re perfect.” He mumbled. “Come here.” He demanded. He didn’t even give you a second to respond or react, he grabbed you and pulled you closer to him so he was fully between your legs, your hands pressing against his chest. You looked up at his face, swearing his eyes flashed that harsh black color. “Don’t move.” He stated.

“Okay.” You said simply, your legs hanging off the edge of the table. Dean lowered himself, starting out slow as he started kissing along your jaw, down your neck, and stopping at your collarbone. He started sucking then, and you felt your breath hitch, feeling a slight wetness again. At your hitch, Dean took two of his fingers and started slowly rubbing your clit.

“So wet already.” He commented before going even lower and started sucking on your hardened nipples. “Your collarbone is gonna have some nice marks on them.” He hummed. As he sucked your nipples, his fingers started to slowly press themselves into you, a small moan escaped your lips. “That’s it Sweetheart.” He praised as he started pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you.

All you wanted to do was grab onto him, almost pull him closer to you, but you didn’t want to disobey his order of not moving. But it was getting so difficult. You felt yourself break, and found your hand touching the back of his head, almost gripping him. At first, you thought the simple act was going to be something of a problem, because technically you disobeyed, but it wasn’t. It almost seemed like you had encouraged him.

Hips lips and mouth made its way to your cunt, which was currently being aggressively pumped in and out of by his fingers. As he pumped his fingers, he added his tongue and mouth into the mix, pushing his tongue ever so slowly into your pussy when his fingers weren’t there, almost alternating. “Fuckkkk.” You shut your eyes, feeling a smirk on his lips.

You let out a moan, and looked down at the demon between your legs. It was a weird sight, his tongue and fingers slowly appearing and disappearing from you. The look on his face seemed almost ravenous, like he hadn’t eaten in days. He felt you watching him, and the thought of you watching him practically destroying you with just his mouth and fingers had started to make himself harder than he was before; he was having a hard time containing himself.

He made eye contact with you, and you found yourself looking away, as your chest started moving up and down. “No, no.” He said, removing his mouth and tongue. “Want you to keep watching.” He said, and you nodded, finding yourself complying with his request.

His movements again started to get more erratic and you couldn’t but release a string of profanities that you didn’t think was even possible to come out of you in that moment as you found yourself starting to come. “That’s it.” Was all he said, continuing to ride out your orgasm.

His mouth and fingers were covered in your cum, and there was a part of you that was almost embarrassed, but at the same time you were also a little bit turned on seeing him that way. “Here.” He said, standing up and bringing his fingers to your lips. “Want you to taste how sweet you are.” Dean stick his fingers into your mouth and without any kind of prompting, you started sucking on his fingers. “You’re learning.” He grinned.

“Alright Sweetheart, are you ready to suck your first cock?” He asked, but you knew he wasn’t really asking. Sheepishly you nodded. “Good, because I wasn’t really asking.” He unzipped his jeans and pulled his pants down along with his boxers; your eyes weirdly fixated on it. “Missed seeing it?” He grinned. “Get off the table and kneel down on the ground.”

You were frozen for a moment, almost not computing what he had said. “I said,” he began, taking your arm and yanking you off the table. “Kneel.” His eyes went black, and you felt your heart almost stop. His eyes turning back to your favorite shade of green.

You knelt down in front of him, your hands resting on your thighs. His finger tilting your chin up. “I know this ain’t about you doll but, the more you cooperate, the more pleasurable this whole experience can be for you okay?” His voice seemed a little bit more calm than it had been. “I need an okay from you Sweetheart.”

“Yes Sir.” The words just slipped out; all you had wanted to say was ‘Yes Dean.’ The smirk on his face grew.

“Yes Sir? Knew there was a kinky little thing underneath.” He removed his hand from your chin and held his dick in hand for a moment. “Alright, let’s see how much I can fit in that mouth of yours.”

The position you were in was embarrassing, humiliating. You were completely naked on your knees sucking the dick of your – well what used to be – one of your most trusted friends, someone that you knew you could rely on, someone you knew that would never take advantage of you.

You assumed that you were doing a good job, because as you looked up underneath your eyelashes Dean’s eyes were closed, and he was making a face that seemed to be of absolute pleasure. “You’re such a natural Sweetheart.” He mumbled, grabbing the back of your head so he could get a firm grip on your hair. “Should have had you on your knees years ago.” He praised.

You ran your tongue along the shaft slowly, keeping one of your hands above your lips as your mouth and hand moved in tantum with each other. Semi-loud grunts had fell from Dean’s lips, and you had felt a small knot in the bit of your stomach, along with the wetness between your legs starting to form again. You had heard from some of your friends that have done this numerous of times before that sucking dick was one of their favorite things to do, that the very act was something that could actually make them cum. You had thought that thought was silly, that there was no way something like that could happen, but the more you sucked Dean, the more you knew that you were about to eat your words.

“Little faster Sweetheart. Gonna cum.” His voice was breathy, and you instantly went deer in headlights. He took his hand, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Wanna watch your face as I cum down that pretty little throat of yours.” His evil grin was back, and you felt yourself shake your head a little, trying to convey ‘no.’ His face looked at you, confused. “No?” You nodded. “Too fucking bad.” His eyes went black just then, and it was too late, his hot cum started spilling in your mouth and down your throat – you felt like you were about to throw up.

Removing your mouth from his cock after he was finished coming, you had wanted to throw up; hating the salty taste that was in your mouth and now filled up your stomach. You started coughing a bit, Dean simply just laughed watching you. “You’re so cute.” He said, almost in a mocking tone. You looked at him, still naked and on your hands and knees, trying to stop yourself from not throwing up. You couldn’t imagine what you had looked like right now, but you thought you probably looked nowhere near cute.

Dean walked over to you, quickly yanking you up by your arm. As you stood up, the front of your body crashed against his chest; his hands had a firm grip on your arms, while your own arms were slightly crushed against your chest and his. If he wasn’t a demon, you would have loved the closeness you had to him right now; this was the type of closeness that you had always craved from Dean. You had loved when he would pull you close into a hug after a long hunt, or cuddle you at night when you had a bad nightmare. “Ready for me to fill you up Sweetheart?”

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @fullbelieverheart @little-x-wolf @angiebangiee If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #reader insert #female reader #dean x you #dean x reader

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magicxc · 8 months

Text

Stay With You

Pairings: Trevante Rhodes x Black Reader x Aldis Hodge

Word Count: 1652

Warnings: double penetration, hand job, cream pies

BBJ Masterlist

“Y’all when I said let's go camping, I was thinking something along the lines of smores, maybe even a cute lil bonfire,” I ranted. “But to be out here in natures ass crack, the possible meal of a grizzly bear is where I draw the line.

“Y/N, we’re in a makeshift tent in the backyard, I doubt a grizzly is making it this far into the city,” Aldis sighed.

“And if he does, we’ll hear him,” Trevante added.

“Was that supposed to make me feel better?”

“This is practice Y/N, you stay complaining like this on the real campsite and a grizzly will be the least of your worries.”

“Aldi, is that a threat?” I gasped.

“No, it’s a warning, so take heed.”

“Ohhh Aldiii, you giving out warnings now?” Trevante mocked.

Deadpanning Tre, I look over to Aldis to assess what the problem really is.

“Aldi, you know I don’t do the whole nature thing, but I’m legitimately trying FOR YOU."

“You ain’t gotta try if all you gone do is keep complaining,” he protested.

“I AM -“

“Hey hey hey y’all enough,” Tre interrupted. “Let's put a pin in it before one of us says something we can’t take back.

Always the peacemaker that one. Trevante is quite literally the definition of lover not a fighter, whereas Aldis on the other hand is my little hot head. We tend to clash from time to time, but we’re learning which buttons not to push.

He’s been begging us to go camping for a minute now and I finally gave in last weekend, opting to do this only if I could work my way up there. Tre is no more keen to do it than I am, but pushed those feelings to the side for all the times Aldis has been so willing to try something for us. I guess it didn’t help that I’ve been bitching since we crawled inside here.

Sighing, I apologized for my earlier whining and creeped over to his side of the tent to seal it with a kiss. He accepts it with a grumble, but the scowl on his face tells a different story.

“Baby, I am so sorry for not coming in here with an open mind and if you let me, I’ll have us all making noises a grizzly wouldn’t dare interrupt.”

I get a small smile in return, but it’s not the heart melting one I’m used to seeing.

“Please, forgive me and come morning I’ll fix your favorite breakfast.”

“There are no stoves in the woods,” Tre reminded.

“Right, well I’ll do whatever it takes to survive in nature,” I promised. “No soap, no toothpaste, just a knife and my killer instincts.”

A chorus of woahs follows from both men, Aldis urging me to relax, emphasizing the idea that living in nature surrenders the use of modern technology not hygiene.

“Yeah well I’ll stay clean ONLY if you forgive me,” I bargained.

Chuckling, he leans in and pecks me on the lips, formally forgiving my prior tantrum.

“Moving forward, I don’t wanna hear no lip and you’ll do exactly as I say,” he demanded.

Wrapping my arms around his neck I lean in for another kiss, mumbling a yes sir. Deepening it, I feel Tre’s palm run across my ass, caressing its curves in the softest way.

Aldis’ arms wrap around my waist, pulling me in closer as his lips run over mine, trailing down to my chin, my neck, and stopping just shy of my breast.

“Now, tell me more about those non interrupting grizzly noises,” he says through light pecks.

Shuffling off the floor Tre gets behind me, locking me in between them, sprinkling his fair share of kisses along my back in agreement with Aldis.

Turning so that my body faces forward, I rest my arms on the shoulder of each man; leaning firstly into Tre and then into Aldi to swap a little bit of spit.

“Well, for starters we’d need less clothes.“

“Like this shirt for instance,” Tre proposed as he tugged it off me.

“And these pants,” Aldis added, unbuckling them. “They don’t really serve much purpose do they?”

Shaking my head no, I help them shed the rest of the clothes by ridding myself of the remaining undergarments. Now in my birthday suit, I watch as each man's clothing finds itself in a pile next to mine.

Tongue slipping between teeth and over my lips, I can’t help the jolt of excitement that washes over me as I ready myself for both my men. Leaning over to Tre, I sink my teeth into his skin as I suck on his sweet spot, no doubt leaving a hickey - eager to mark him in the sexiest way.

He breathes out soft, shy pants and I reach down to grab his semi hard dick as I stroke it back and forth. Dribbles of precum ooze from the tip and I drag my thumb forward to smear it against his length, allowing me to jerk him off a little more smoothly.

Tilting over to my left, I lean into Aldis and dip my head into the firm arch of his shoulder blade, peppering his jaw in open mouth kisses; spots of saliva left behind after each one.

He then grabs my left breast, his mouth swirling around the hardened nipple as my head tips back at the delicious sensation, quiet mewling tumbling past my lips. Tre follows suit with my other breast, tweaking and kneading before taking the nipple into his warm mouth.

Hand gliding down Aldis’ lap, I stop at his girthy member, tracing over each thick vein while I softly run my hand over his nuts. Bringing my hand to my face, I spit in the palm and return it back to his length, this time stroking him with ease.

Breathy moans follow, but it comes out muffled around my nipple and I take this chance to speed up in pace on both men, hoping to see their creamy finish.

“Tell me how good this feels,” I whimpered. “Matter of fact, cum for me so I know it’s real.”

Heated lips run along my skin, tongues leaving wet trails in their paths while hands get entangled with limbs and moans get engulfed into the noiseless night. My body feels hot with desire, eyelids fluttering closed, and mouth ajar, I couldn’t tell who was doing what but my movements never ceased; eager to bring my men over the edge.

Their heavy breathing becomes more erratic, my cooing and encouragement having them spill onto me as my hands come to a slow stop and I lick each fist clean.

Grabbing the back of my neck, Aldis pulls me in for a kiss, thumbs spreading my lips open to taste himself. Pulling away, I turn over to Tre and dive in for another round of tongue twisting, saliva trailing down our chins as we pull apart.

“On all fours Y/N, you know wassup,” Aldi directed.

“Yes sirrrr, Tre you on the bottom baby?”

“I’m wherever you want me,” he winked.

Lying down on his back, he helps position me on top of him, dick in hand as he watches me slowly slide down his length. A heavy gasp leaves us both at the heated feeling of being connected. After we adjust, he gives me a lazy smile, mouthing a quick I love you to which I eagerly return it.

“Ready for me angel?”

“Go for it Aldi.”

“I’ll be your genie, Y/N, every fucking day if you let me,” he confides, smearing his cum between my ass.

“Your every wish would be my command,” he continued, entering first with his finger.

“You’re my beacon of light honey,” he insisted, adding in another digit. “In an otherwise bleak and cruel world.”

“You both reassure me that all is not lost,” he chanted, driving his fingers into me, the pace deliciously unwavering.

“Y’all have given me the joy to call you guys family,” he admitted, removing his fingers entirely.

“But this ass? Oh this ass Y/N is what I can call home,” Aldis ended as he thrusted to the hilt.

No matter how many times he’s entered my backdoor, I can never get used to his sheer size. He always knocks the wind out of me and I find myself planted face first into Tre’s chest, his hands cradling my jaws as I seep back into reality. Sweet nothings are whispered into my ear but it’s the driving force of their dicks that fully reels me into the present.

“There she is,” Tre snickered. “I got you baby girl, don’t you worry.”

I barely recognize the sounds coming from me, my words now indecipherable, cockdrunk and drooling as they tear me apart. Aldis wraps his hand around my throat, drawing me in to plaster my lips with sloppy kisses while Tre takes a hold of my waist to drive his dick further into me, my pussy stretched around his dick as his tongue explores the shape of my neck.

My fingers are embedded into skin, whose I don’t know, but the crescent shaped marks will reveal it sooner or later. Tongue sliding against Aldis’ while Tre’s fingers dance every which way across my waist and thighs, I can’t help the howl that escapes me; grizzly bear be damned, my body feels worked over past its limits.

The peak that I hit seems never ending, my soul paralyzed and heartbeat accelerating, while everything around me ceases to exist. I come down just in time enough to feel them splatter my walls simultaneously which elicits a minigasm of my own.

Loud, labored panting is all that I hear. Rough, calloused hands is all that I feel. Navy blue sky littered with twinkling stars is the view that meets me and I must admit that camping isn’t so bad after all.

#Emmy Writes #Emmy Tries #My Drabbles #Black Boy Joy #Trevante Rhodes x Black Reader #Trevante Rhodes x Black!Fem!Reader #Trevante Rhodes #Aldis Hodge x Black Reader #Aldis Hodge x Black!Fem!Reader #Aldis Hodge #Trevante Rhodes x Black Reader x Aldis Hodge #Trevante Rhodes x Black!Fem!Reader x Aldis Hodge #Black Reader #Black!Fem!Reader #3 some tings #why am I like this lmfao

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bisexual-horror-fan · 1 year

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*lizzo voice* I’ve been waiting for this one! Turn it up! Anyway it took all the power in me not to turn on anon 😩. Honestly these are gonna be pretty broad so you have creative freedom!! I was wondering if I could have a Poly!Ghostface with breeding being a main focal point 👀. If not main I’ll take minor point! Whatever’s easiest! Also it’s amralice I changed my username LOL

Man you requested this thing foreverrr ago, but I finally was in the mood and got to it. I am gonna thank the new Scream movie on the horizon and also the Ghostface call I got. Breeding kink ain’t my kink but damn if it isn’t fun to write! Especially since I shockingly never have with these two! I hope it was worth the wait and that you all enjoy!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 3.1K. Billy Loomis And Stu Macher X AFAB! Reader. Poly!Ghostface. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Biting. Vaginal Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Raw Sex. Creampie. Sloppy Seconds. Threat Of Denial. Dub-Con. Breeding Kink. Dirty Talk. Degradation. Praise. Pet Names. Coercion. Gaslighting. Billy And Stu Being Toxic. Riding. Slut Shaming. Reader Blaming. Restrained Reader. Dumbification. Overstimulation. Begging. Crying. Decryphilla.

—

Throwing Caution To The Wind.

—

You were smart, cautious and careful.

Normally.

But ever since two particular boys entered your life you find it harder and harder still to keep your head on straight. They could make a suggestion and from anybody else it would be totally outlandish, something you would never even consider entertaining, but when it came from their mouths, well, it just had a funny little habit of making sense.

So when you were fooling around one night, stretched out underneath Stu, him kissing your neck, teeth grazing. Billy was by your side, hands everywhere when he said your name softly, you hummed in question and he responded, “Feelin’ good?”

A light and breathy laugh, “To say the least.” but you wanted more, so you asked, as nicely as you usually did, sweetness and heat tying the two words in a bow, opting for simplicity, “Fuck me?”

Billy didn’t sound disappointed or anything, he said it in a very matter of fact way, “Would love to but we’re outta condoms.”

Shit.

You however were disappointed, you totally meant to pick up more but you spaced on it, and true you could get off in other ways. And while hands and mouths and the rest have their very well loved place, that isn’t what you wanted tonight. You thought, turned it over in your mind, they weren’t letting up, still touching you all over, the teasing was too much and you think, “Fuck it.”

You speak, “We…We could still-” That got their attention, Stu’s head rising from your chest, the nipple he had just had between his lips released with a wet pop, “Still?”

Billy leaned in closer, “Yeah, still?”

A nervous look between them both, a bite of your lip before the pulsing need pushing you forward and the words tumbled out, “We still could if you promise to pull out.”

The look passed between the pair over your form was quick before they looked back to you, “Are you sure?”

You think for a moment maybe you shouldn’t, maybe this was a bad fucking idea, but then Billy’s hand was between your thighs, deft fingers circling your clit through barely there and soaked lace, pleasure sparks inside of you, makes your legs twitch and your breath stutter in response. Stu was as unhelpful as ever as he returned his mouth to giving attention to your chest and before you truly know what you are saying, those two words slip out on an exhale, “I’m sure.”

“Well if you’re really sure.” Billy hummed.

You were. You could trust them.

Soon enough you were deep into it with them, all clothes were forgotten as you got on top of Billy, the feel of him warm, his eyes giving away that he was as full of want as you were. One hand on your hip and the other holding himself at the base of his shaft as he lined up, the hot and hard velvety head of his cock poised at your slick hole and in one smooth move of your hips downwards you took him inside. His reaction was amazing, about the same as yours honestly, first there was a sharp inhale at the sudden rush of sensation, a small tense, and a quiet but definitely vocal moan. It felt fantastic, you from the stretch of him and him from the feeling of you, so warm and so wet, and you both from feeling the other raw for the very first time.

You started to move, began to ride, tentative, easy, bouncing up and down and holy shit, you didn’t know it could feel this good with him bare, if you did, you might have done this sooner. The build of it was quick, Stu was helping, one hand rubbing your clit, sloppy kisses placed on your neck as you reached back behind yourself, your own hand on him, stroking him as you rode Billy. “How’s she feel?”

A breathless laugh, his head thrown back as he confessed, “In-credible.”

“Oh I bet, M’ already dying for my turn.” The smile on his face was evident from his tone.

You got very, very distracted after that, trying to keep a good rhythm both for yourself and for Stu, a task that got harder and harder as you got closer and closer to your end, the fingers helping you along, refusing to let up. Your head was swimming, ample moans and panting breaths you feel yourself draw close and warn them as such, a broken and weak, “Gon-gonna cum-”

Stu’s fingers stay consistent, your hips are faltering but Billy’s hands are locked on your waist, he helps you move, keep it up, rocking up into you, fucking up as you are slammed down and you know your orgasm is going to be spectacular. It builds and rises and finally peaks, you tip over and cum, eyes slip closed and the moan that breaks out is loud and blissful.

You are thoroughly pleased and totally distracted, so overcome with feeling that you didn’t, more than that, you couldn’t gather enough mental awareness to notice Billy’s own end that had also crept up. If you weren’t so consumed with getting yourself off you would have noticed the change in his breathing, the pitch of his own moans, and all those little tells you had gotten to know so intimately that would have clued you into him getting so dangerously close. You cumming pushes him over too, plush walls hugging and squeezing him rhythmically, as if your body were silently begging him to do it, to unload inside you and he complies. Your eyes slide back open, brows furrowed in confusion as you are panting, as your own pleasure subsides you feel the flex of him inside and with a few more gentle moves of your hips, directed by him, still gripping you, a rush of warmth and wetness.

You shouldn’t be this wet, it felt way more slick so suddenly and as you look down at Billy, his own eyes closed in pleasure, bottom lip caught between his teeth, a harsh exhale out of his nose and red flush on his chest it hits you like a ton of fucking bricks.

In the haze of you cumming you had let go of Stu and he allowed it to happen, you got up, raising up on your knees and sliding him out, a small hiss from him as you do so, followed right after by the now clearly obvious mix of his cum and your wetness pouring out of you and back onto his slowly softening shaft. You reached down, feel your well fucked hole that was steadily leaking, moving back to see all the mess and you look at Billy accusingly, “You said you were gonna pull out!”

There was this much too comfortable smile on his face, a small shrug, glancing at Stu as he said, “Oops. Sorry.”

Stu laughed and you wanted to smack him, “It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny.” Stu defended and you ignored him as you asked Billy, “Why did you do that?!”

“Couldn’t help it. I tried to hold it while you were getting yours but it felt way too good.” He said it in a way that was clearly trying to sway you, when you seemed unmoved he spoke again, “C’mon, don’t be mad at me babe. Didn’t it feel good?”

It did. It totally fucking did but- “That’s not the point!”

“So you admit it did feel good.” He said with a wider grin and you pouted arms cross over your chest, “I didn’t say that!”

“Implied it plenty.” Stu said easily, his hands on you, locking onto your waist and you tried to wiggle away, “Stop it! I want you to take this seriously, I told you not to and you totally violated me-”

That got a laugh from them both, Stu saying with a roll of his eyes, “Yeah you seem really violated when you were cumming like that. The sounds you were making? Sounded like you were really being forced.”

“Totally man, sure felt like you hated every second of it when your cunt was fucking milking me.” Billy continued mockingly as he started to sit up, a hand running through his hair and you wanted to protest, make them apologise but Stu was touching you. He hadn’t let you get away, he was laying more affection of your neck and shoulders, one hand sliding between your legs and you tried to fight him of, “Knock it off Stu-”

“Nope.” You felt him, pressed hot and hard to your hip and he said, “I still gotta get off.”

You wanted to tell him to fuck off, that no way after this would you but Billy was touching you too again, he’d knocked your arms out of the way and he was playing with your nipples, tugging gently as he says, “He was real patient, let him have a turn.”

“N-no, I don’t want to-” You protested weakly, totally unconvincingly, especially as Stu buried his fingers inside you and felt how your body responded, clenching around his fingers. He was murmuring in your ear sarcastically, “Yeah again, feels like you really don’t want this.”

You give in, an attempt at compromise, “Okay, let me blow you-”

A laugh from the pair, a shake of Stu’s head, and Billy pulling more painfully, “Nope, you’re gonna let him fuck you and you’re gonna love it.”

You wanted to whine, sob, beg, but you felt so needy, you did want to feel him, did want him to fuck you and get off again and again but the risk, the danger of it, you shouldn’t-

Billy’s voice cuts through your whirring and worried spiral in your mind, “We’ll buy you a plan B if it makes you feel better.”

It did. It really did. If they did that then there was no point in denying Stu, you could let him use you too, let him cum inside without further worry so you rush out, “Yes, okay, fuck-”

“Awe there you go, good girl.” His fingers are pulled out and you are pushed down, Stu repositions you, forces you into face down ass up and without any more preamble you feel him against your hole and he slips inside.

He moans long and low, his body covering yours, you feel his chest to your back, his hands on your wrists, holding you down as he bottoms out. He held deep inside for a moment, feeling you with nothing in between, how loose and lubed you were from the previous load dumped into you, he ground his hips against your ass, another groan leaves him as his head pitches forward, resting on the back of your shoulder. He sounded wrecked already but he always was a massive slut for Billy’s sloppy seconds.

You moan too when he fills you, your eyes sliding closed as he starts to move, slowly, begins to fuck you, deep and hard, barely sliding out halfway before shoving back inside. After a few more moans he pulled out of you with no effort he said, “God, you’re so fucking funny, you know that?”

“Hu-huh?” You moaned out and Stu continued, “Thinkin’ that you could let us fuck you raw and we wouldn’t take the chance to cum in you-” A breathless laugh, a shake of his head, then punctuated by the hardest thrust yet and a moan before he continues to verbally degrade you, “-stupid, stupid whore, only thinking with the gash between your legs.”

Instead of angering you, instead of making you feel everything it should, instead it makes you moan, makes you clench down on him again, makes you feel even more heat spark inside of you and arousal wash over your brain. Maybe you were naive and idiotic to think that they would just pull out, maybe this was- “Your fault. This is all your fuckin’ fault.” Stu whispered harsh into your ear as his hips picked up the pace.

It was, you were warm and wet, sweet and inviting, you really thought that they could feel you, all of you, bare and alive against them and thought what? That they’d be able to resist not finishing in your abused hole that was gripping onto them for dear life? That same hole that was practically beseeching them to do it?

It was biology you were fighting against too, your mouth said one thing but your body another totally different. Who were you to fault them for listening to millennia of evolution directing them, telling every sense and fiber of their beings, compelling them to cum exactly the place they were supposed to? In your fertile and ready hole, the one you had for this very purpose.

This was on you and you alone for asking for too much of them. They were only human.

This was fucked, totally fucked, you were into this, all of it. The danger, the risk, the moral ambiguity and more still. It fuels you.

You moaned incoherently, started to rock back to meet Stu’s thrusts, Billy sitting up in front of you watching as the blonde fucked you harder and harder. “Oh, seems she really does love it.”

“Yeah she does, you do, don’tcha?” He asked and you nodded, panting as you felt the pleasure building again, a furious nod, his hands released your wrists and a hard smack that landed on your ass made you yelp as he demanded, “Say it!”

“I-I do, I lo-o-ove it, fuck, pl-please! Don’t stop Stu!” You begged pathetically, desperate to ease the ache and to cum again.

“Oh I won’t.” Stu assured around a laugh and Billy hummed, the sound of skin on skin filling the space of the bedroom around him he spoke, “How bad do you think she wants it?”

“I dunno man, shit, feels like she does pretty bad.” He mused in between his own panting breaths, another groan breaking out and Billy let that hang for a moment before posing, “Bad enough that if we told her we wouldn’t get her that little pill she’d still beg you to cum in her raw?”

“Love the way you think.” Stu confessed and with another brutal and unrelenting thrust he asked, “Well?”

Your mind was so hazy, you could barely keep up but you felt some fear curl in your gut as your clit throbbed and your cunt wept, you didn’t want that, did you? Moreover you didn’t think that they did either, a questioning and wavering moan, a stretched out, pitched up, whiney, “Whaaaat?”

A laugh, Stu mocking what you said, stretching out your “what” in the same way and your head falls forward, resting on your forearms as he uses your body. Billy chimed in then again, recovered from his own small laughing fit, “You heard us. If you wanna cum, if you wanna get off, beg for him to breed you.”

You move your head up, slightly, able to look at Billy, he was staring down at you and you could see he was hard again and was jerking off to the view of you and Stu.

When did this happen? Since when did they get into this kink? You had no time nor the higher faculties to think or question, pleasure was rising quickly, you were so fucking close when Stu’s hips stopped with him buried inside of you. His cock pressed to that sweet spot but un-moving, a sob, you can begin to feel the orgasm slip through your fingers and you didn’t think, just let it pour out of your mouth thoughtlessly, “Please, please, please, fill me, God! I nee-need it, fuck-”

A broken moan into the sheets, again followed by a breathless but still definitely loud enough for them to hear as Stu resumed his previous pace, “Breed me.”

It only took about five more perfectly placed thrusts for you to cum.

Something else was said, something surely degrading and filthy but you couldn’t hear it, your mind went blank as you shuddered under him, sensation radiating out and making your legs almost give out with a wrecked moan.

This time the come down took longer, especially since Stu didn’t let up, still ruining your hole, only when you were just beginning to come back to yourself and catch your breath did you feel it. Stu holding deep with a groan and now more aware of it, knowing it was going to happen, you focus a tad better, feel him cum inside and it leaks out of you around him, too full to hold the remnants of Billy’s load and Stu’s with him still stuffed inside.

When he pulls out a moment later, even more of them spills out, down the backs of your thighs and you finally get to lie down, a deep inhale, your limbs feel sore but you feel very relaxed. You could fall asleep right here and you thought you just might until Billy rolls you over, you feel him settle on top of you, between your legs and when he slides in your eyes fly open with a gasp, he didn’t waste time, fucked into you and Stu said, “Told you we could make her beg for it, you owe me five bucks.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll pay you later-” You tried to find your voice to speak up, protest over this new information, that they made some petty bet over this but he changed the angle, ground on your oversensitive clit and it stole all your fight, your argument, along with your breath. Another squeeze of your walls around Billy that he commented on and you had to admit, if only to yourself, this is some of the best sex you had ever had, not just with them but period, and maybe, you should let this go and be thankful for them leveling up your sex life in this way.

Regardless, something for future you to worry about and deal with, for now, your legs wrap around Billy’s hips, ankles lock behind his lower back, you reach up, pull him tighter by your fingers tangling in his hair and you beg into his sweat slick neck, “Don’t stop.”

“There you go, what a good slut.” Stu praised and you were rewarded by a strong press of Billy’s lips against yours.

You finish that afternoon with tears down your cheeks, a cunt full of cum and a head full of confusing thoughts, a new kink unlocked thanks to their inability to listen and their overconfidence that they knew your body better than you could ever hope to.

#BHF asks #BHF writing #Billy Loomis X reader #Stu Macher x reader #Poly!Ghostface x reader #Ghostface X Reader #slasher x reader #ENJOY #This was real fun for me! I missed writing them

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imaginesbygrace · 2 years

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i'm sorry (Rio)

Masterlist

Forgiving Rio was hard. You couldn’t fault him for his past, because everyone, even you, had baggage. But when that baggage comes knocking and asking for a job—and Rio complies—you can’t help but feel a bit annoyed.

But still, you tried to be understanding, maybe this was just the kind of thing that girls with criminal boyfriends deal with? Still, he made you feel about this small when he couldn’t bother to stop Beth’s shameless flirting and lingering touches. So, you packed a bag and left. And then stayed gone.

Rio got nothing more than a short two minute phone call explaining that you were done, why and to never speak to you again. He didn’t think you were serious. Yeah, he could admit that he fucked him, and he fucked up bad—-still, he didn’t think you’d ignore him for this long.

Rio sent flowers to work and your new apartment. He had Mick tailing you everywhere, fixing any problem or issue to come into your path. He complies with your choice to cut him off, verbally anyway. Rio didn’t contact you once, no letters or calls. Mick followed you at a distance, giving you some semblance of normalcy. He doesn’t go near you.

He sends food from his grandma, all your favorites because he didn’t want you to miss out on them because of him. Sometimes his grandmother even calls to invite you over, promising that Rio wouldn’t be in attendance and she has been true to her word since.

It took six months before Rio snapped. He decided he was done sitting around and waiting for you to give him the chance to earn your forgiveness, he’d go find you and get you back before that idea even crossed your mind.

Rio opted to go without any gifts, but with groceries. He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t nervous, he was nervous, finger shaking anxious. It took him five minutes of almost knocking your door before he actually knocked on your door.

The following fifteen seconds were the longest fifteen seconds of his life. Not that any of it mattered when you opened the door, and Rio was shocked into silence while looking at you. It wasn’t that you had changed since he last saw you, it had just been so long since he actually saw you.

You tucked your hair, which was still wet from the shower you took before dinner, behind your ear. You were in leggings and a hoodie, comfortable and beautiful. “Hey,” he finally spoke.

“What are you doing here Rio?” He winced. Rio. He wasn’t expecting an endearing greeting per se, but a Chris would’ve been better than nothing.

Rio racked his mind for his reasoning to break her demand of separation. The weight of the bags in his hands sucked him back to reality: he has to win you back and actually talking would be a good start. So he lifts the bags, “I was hoping I could cook you dinner.”

You don’t answer, just lift your eyebrows at him in question. Did he really think you’d just forgive him? Finally, with a small huff and all the attitude in the world you answer him, “You must have confused me with someone else.” This time Rio’s brows lift. “I’m not one of those soccer moms you boss around like trash, Rio. I was your girlfriend and I expected you to treat me as such, with respect and as your equal. And if you think some ass kissing, major stalking, or any of this other nonsense is enough without even actually apologizing—” you took a breath— “-then you got another thing coming.”

With that said, you slammed the door shut in his face. So he tried again the next day. This time, speaking the moment the door swung open. “I’m sorry.” Rio sighed softly. “I ain’t mean to hurt you like that, you’re more important than some old side piece. Business aside, I’ll have Mick do all the drops and have someone else meet with them if they need something,” He promised.” You don’t say anything and he takes it as his chance to continue.

“I brought food again. I owe you dinner, and so much more. Please, mama, give me the chance to earn your trust back.” You stared up at him for some time and Rio’s heart dropped lower and lower with every passing second. Just as he was about to take a step back and apologize, you turned around and walked back inside—leaving the door open. Rio smiled at the empty space where you had stood and quickly followed behind.

#imagine #imagines #rio imagine #rio imagines #rio x reader #good girls imagine #good girls imagines #manny montana imagine #manny montana imagines

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rosewaterandivy · 11 months

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7. gold teeth and curse for this town

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

Warnings: 18+, no use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations (caught masturbating, slight voyeurism), spring break shenanigans, traveling idiots, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: This chapter is borne out of my current nostalgia for travel and Southern CA that I’m going to make everyone’s problem (the end of grad school cannot come soon enough!). Get ready to repress some 6K of feelings, questionable advice and coping mechanisms - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, reposting my work, however, is not; enjoy! 💜

series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!

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Now, Spring Break, IND ➡️ DFW ➡️ PSP ➡️ Joshua Tree, CA

You hustle Steve out of the loft with ample time to get to the airport. Unlike some people, you operated on the maxim that early is on time and on time is late. As a result, you and Nancy made for fantastic travel companions, you and Steve however…

“Christ, who pissed in your cereal this morning?!”

You sigh in exasperation at his outburst, grabbing your suitcase and shouldering your backpack while Steve locks the car. His hair is a travesty, sticking up every which way like he slept in a barn, he’s so put off by it he’s opted for a blue baseball cap today proclaiming, ‘If you ain’t a fisherman, you ain’t shit’ that he’d stolen from Hopper at some point.

“Eat my ass, dude!”

He stops short at that, causing you to collide with his back. You kick the back of his legs with your scuffed shoes, trying to jumpstart the whole walking thing. But no, Steve just stands there like a statue.

When he finally gets going again after a shake of his head, you swear he mumbles something under his breath. It sounds an awful lot like, “You’re killing me, woman.”

Whatever. He’s killing you— all stupidly attractive and mussed from an early morning wake-up call.

Which, to be fair, was definitely unintentional on your part. Nancy could’ve done you a solid and warned you about the thin wall between your room and Steve’s. Quiet and discreet your ass, you’d be having words with Bellesa’s customer service later.

It was preventative, if anything, because you’re conscientious like that. Just a little something to take the edge off before spending the better part of a week alone with Steve. That baby pink sucker should’ve come with a warning, or maybe you’re just that wound up.

Regardless, being less than mindful of your volume resulted in Steve barging into your bedroom right as you were about to come— hand grasping the vibe at just the right angle and shoved down the front of your shorts, shirt rucked up against your chest.

“What the fuck?!” you screech, orgasm slipping back from whence it came. You’re paralyzed in shock, startled by a rumpled, sleep-drunk, shirtless Steve in his boxer-briefs, which were doing fuck-all to help the situation at hand.

Speaking of which… You make a frantic grab for the covers to pull them up and over yourself, clicking the vibe off and stashing it under some pillows.

Meanwhile, he just stands there, steadily growing various shades of pink and breathing heavily. “I thought– You were—” he attempts, tongue-tied and dumbfounded.

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks. His jaw drops open, useless, as he takes what he hopes will be a steadying breath in. But that’s of no use, because why would the universe ever cut him a break?

You sail beneath his nose, wafting from the movement of the sheets as you hastily cover yourself and that scent— that intoxicating sweetness he remembers pulling out of past lovers, sucking off his fingers, savoring in his throat— crashes into him with its entire, terrifying, exhilarating implication.

He’s utterly baffled. The kind of hard-hitting no shit moment you get when someone tells you the answer to a riddle you’ve been chewing on for hours, trying to decipher that missing component you just can’t get a grip on. And when the answer wakes up your brain, and your brain face-palms itself, you’re walloped with both relief and irritation.

In Steve’s case, he’s walloped with the scent of spearmint toothpaste and soap-clean skin only lightly musky. Saltiness lingering from an evaporated sheen of sweat, a dampness that dried over, previously wet from a specific type of touch.

Fuck.

He promptly turns on his heel with a muttered apology, body rigid and ramrod straight with tension, bathroom door latched before you can ask him where he’s going. He turns the water on for the shower and steps inside. Starts almost too fast, grip on his cock clumsy and impatient. Steve squeezes and pulls off, then he does it again, the drag of his fist making a delicious, sloppy sound—Do you wonder about him? Those nights you go on half-hearted dates and come back early, shrugging, “Felt weird to— There wasn’t much of a connection,” and plop back down, contented to be next to him. Is that something, too?

He should have fucked you a long time ago on the couch to the soundtrack of a forgotten movie. On the counter, interrupting breakfast, scrabbling for something to grip, knocking shit over, too fevered to care.

He’d do you right. Do you long and good and how you deserve.

“Steve—" you’d cry for him, “Can’t believe we haven’t done this before.”

“Yeah,” he’d say, “You’re so fucking warm, and hot, and my god, I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t take it anymore. Gonna get up inside you, baby, gonna open you up, gonna ruin you for everyone else.”

And with that image, Steve comes so much it’s astonishing. He shudders uncontrollably, gasping out loud with the wind knocked out of him, and arches up toward the ceiling like he might levitate. And then, on the comedown, because being backed up for who knows how long wound him up for the kind of orgasm that decides to return for an encore, he comes again.

You get through security swiftly, the TSA agent from last time making conversation, checking your IDs and asking if you had another hilarious shirt on today.

“Nope,” you say, popping the ‘p’ and jerking your thumb behind you to Steve, “It’s all him today.”

The agent nods and smiles, surveying Steve and his stupid hat quickly. Hands back your IDs and with a laugh, “Have a good trip!”

You save yourself from saying you too! but just barely. Brain still fried from your earlier interrupted activities, no thanks to the man following closely at your heels.

Steve doesn’t say a word until you’re seated on the plane. And even then, it’s less of a word and more of a clearing of his throat that prompts your attention.

“I’m, uh, sorry,” he says, refusing to meet your eyes, “For earlier today. I honestly thought you were like, having a nightmare or something.”

You fail to stifle your laugh. “Steve,” you chuckle, “If the women you’ve been seeing sound like they’re having nightmares when they come—”

“I wouldn’t know,” he interrupts, lips pulled tight. “Not really seeing anyone at the moment.”

You make a silent ‘oh,’ eyes blowing wide. What were you supposed to say to that?

He busies himself with his backpack, pulling out a book and some headphones. You do the same, placing a worn copy of The Devil’s Highway on your lap and settling headphones around your neck.

Something nudges at your calf. You turn from the flight attendant’s spiel to find a folded piece of paper held between two of Steve’s fingers. He flexes them toward you and you, bewildered, take it from him as he returns to his book.

Curious, you run a finger across its worn edges as it unfolds. A familiar scrawl greets you, ‘IOU one explanation.’

Your own.

Shit, the devil’s really in the details, isn’t he?

Your vision shuffles like a deck of cards, mind racing back to Christmas morning as you quickly ripped off a scrap of paper from a receipt and wrote this on the back of it before stuffing it into Steve’s stocking.

Your tongue darts out the wet your chapped lips, firmly back in the present. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. You were supposed to be better prepared, thoughts in some logical order, feelings sorted (well, mostly) before Steve played this card.

You were supposed to know what the fuck you would do.

How you felt about him.

You’ve folded the paper back up and shoved it into your pocket without even realizing it. Dazed and confused while the captain makes an announcement, prompting the cabin for take-off.

Steve’s hand finds yours against the armrest, warm and familiar fingers tangling up with yours. Headphones secured on both of your ears, you take a deep breath as your stomach momentarily suspends itself while the plane takes off; inertia giving way to weightlessness. A squeeze of your hand before you lose yourself for a few hours, the playlist, courtesy of your best friend, sailing through your ears.

Best friends, ex-friends 'til the end / Better off as lovers and not the other way around.

Steve could kick himself for that stupid IOU, you’d been distant and quiet for most the day now. Barely said anything at all during the layover in Dallas, fucking hell. He’d left you to collect the bags while he dealt with the rental car. But he can’t drag his thoughts away from you, your eyes wide as you read the note, posture changing instantaneously.

He interacts politely with the concierge but it’s clear his mind is somewhere else; he hopes he doesn’t come off as rude. When he makes his way back to you, wading through the crowds at the Palm Springs airport, you’ve gathered both suitcases and were sitting on top of one of them.

You’re on a phone call of some kind, turned away from him and hunched over like you’re trying to sink into yourself. His final present to you from Christmas on your right hand glinting in the light as your hold the phone to your ear. He hears a sniffle, quickly followed by a brief sigh.

“Yeah, thanks Nance,” you turn and spot him, offering a tight, watery smile. “Gotta go, Steve’s ready with the car.”

You listen as she says something, nodding along with her words.

“‘Kay,” you let out a shaky breath, “Love you too, bye.”

He bridges the distance between you, reaching for the suitcases before you can brush him away. You toe his backpack toward him, hefting your own over your shoulders with a grunt. Dodging a toddler and frazzled mom with a stroller, the pair of you make it outside, the sun a warm welcome against your faces.

You follow his lead to the rental car, a Ford of some kind, no convertible for the dirt roads and desert terrain of Joshua Tree.

The chirp of the car lets you know Steve’s unlocked it, you quickly compress the handle of your bag and shove it into the trunk. Backpacks are thrown into the backseat followed by a desperate plea from you for both “food,” and “the goddamn a/c.”

He grants both with a soft laugh. Maneuvers the Bronco Sport into Palm Springs with finesse, locating an In-N-Out in record time and rattles your order off from memory. You connect your phone to the bluetooth while you wait in the drive-thru line, mellow guitar chords ramp up and the melancholic sound of ‘drivin’ out into the sun / let the ultraviolet cover me up’ fill the car.

Steve steals your phone before you can change it to something less apocalyptic and depressing, so you’re left to listen to the rasping sounds of Phoebe Bridgers at the close of “I Know the End” while an In-N-Out employee hands you trays of food.

He thanks the teenager, and following the curve of the pavement and scores a parking spot just as a new song rips through the speakers. You hand him his order as he pushes the driver’s seat back to stretch his legs.

“Thanks,” he manages to say before shoving some fries into his mouth.

“Sure,” you reply, nearly unhinging your jaw to take a bite of the burger.

He laughs to himself, watching you. “S’like watching a pride of lions devour a warthog or something.”

You garble some smart-ass response, undoubtedly, before remembering your mouth is full. You roll your eyes and continue to enjoy your meal. Steve follows suit.

After lunch, you suggest grabbing some groceries for the next few days. You wind through the aisles of Ralph’s, Steve following closely behind angling the cart to catch the incoming volleys of cereal boxes, power bars, and cartons of juice and milk.

His heart clenches at the scene— it’s all very domestic, you ticking off your mental grocery list confident in the fact that Steve is just a step behind you— yes, dear; sure thing, sweetheart. You’re prattling on about some shit Wheeler pulled last week, a story you’ve already told him but he can’t bring himself to care, while you decided between Fruity Pebbles or Trix cereal.

Not when it seems like you’re just shaking off the gloom you wore earlier today. Eyes bright and animated, beaming smiles and pealing laughter; he can’t stop the smile that works its way across his face.

Back in the car before he knows it, groceries stowed in the back and cart returned to the corral. Taking his phone from the center console, you type in the AirBnB address and hand it back to him, fingers brushing against his just so. You say something about the property being at the edge of the park and a about an hour’s drive, give or take.

Steve just nods and starts the car. He follows the prompts of directions easily, and pretty soon Palm Springs is in the rearview. The road gives way to rolling hills and climbs with short descents as he drives closer to Joshua Tree. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices there isn’t the usual book in your hand.

He calls your name, “You alright?”

You nod, exhaustion evident in your gaze. “Mmhm, jus’ sleepy. Closing my eyes so I don’t get nauseous from the peaks and valleys.”

That’s right, you get carsick if you read on hilly or mountainous stretches of road. Though it’s not much, Palm Springs to Joshua Tree, he guesses the frequent hills and dips of the drive would be enough to do it. He turns the music down slightly, letting you doze.

It’s been a minute since he’s been alone with his thoughts. What with Nance moving out and you moving in, his mind has been elsewhere. It was a relief to finally be on spring break because it freed up some time for himself.

Not that he used that time wisely, exactly.

He’d talked to Robin, briefly and abstractly, of course. But she was wise to his plight at this point, evasive tactics aside. She cautioned him, once again, to take it slow since you were liable to spook. She was probably right about that.

But then again, maybe not.

Chancing a glance to his right, he catches you and finds himself having a moment. How your face looked all soft and sweet—head lolled back against the seat and precariously resting against the window, how quiet you were, the strange peace settling between the two of you since lunch.

For a second Steve’s also not quite sure how he’s feeling– still gathering his bearings from the aftermath of new tenderness– but he’s so, so lucky that you’re exactly the kind of dummy he’s always known you were. Laughter bubbles from his throat when you snort yourself awake and blink blearily at your surroundings.

“We’re here,” he says softly, one hand resting against the steering wheel while the other pockets his phone.

You’re slow to the draw, having slept for the better of part of an hour, unclipping your seatbelt clumsily and fumbling for the door handle. And it’s all he can do not to kiss you stupid right then and there.

With a sigh and shake of his head, he exits the car and opens your door for you. A murmured ‘thanks’ as you hop down to the desert floor and read the host’s instructions for check-in. Your ancient chucks kick up dust as you walk to the front door and key in the code.

Steve grabs the bags, leaving the groceries for later. He turns, spying a hot tub nestled among desert plants and grasses. The mountains behind the modern house provide a stark contrast to its sleek planes and lines. He almost feels bad for tracking in dust and dirt when he steps inside.

The house itself is sleek, a paragon of modern design. Lots of windows to let in light, particularly in the living spaces. Primary colors and minimal art set the various rooms apart in the open concept space, he notes a red couch and yellow dining chairs, following the sound of your footsteps.

“It’s a two bedroom,” you call out from somewhere out of sight.

He’s both pleased and frustrated at that particular detail. Maybe that’s your way of introducing some distance between the two of you? He’d rather not think about it.

“They’re both nice,” you say, appearing out of thin air and leaning against a wall to his left. “We can flip for ‘em, I guess.”

Steve checks his pocket for loose change and prizes a quarter between his thumb and forefinger. “So heads is…?”

“The green room.”

“And tails?”

“The orange one.”

“Right,” he nods, “So on three, you call it.”

He counts it down and you call tails as the coin flips between you. He catches it on his palm, opening it for you to check.

“Tails it is—I’ll take the orange room, you get green.”

So, it’s settled. You take your suitcase and backpack with a smile before padding back to the second bedroom. Steve passes a pop art version of a Simpsons character displayed on the wall as he makes his way to his room. It’s not too far from yours with a sliding glass door to and view to the surrounding property.

He leaves his bags by the door and beelines for the bed. His back hits the mattress and he’s out like a light.

The clanging of pots and pans wakes him. The faint footfalls of bare feet against the concrete floor as your prattle around the kitchen. He scrubs a hand down his face with a sigh.

He’s still exhausted from earlier, so he settles on drifting back to sleep, maybe waking you up in the morning with a big mug of coffee for that inevitable travel-hangover you’ll have.

Steve yawns and grins when he hears your hip bump the counter, a hushed curse (“god damned asslamp, what the fuck”), your feet padding away, and the kitchen faucet turns on with a rush. You’re such a considerate dope.

Another yawn. He’s asleep again.

It’s the soft knocking on his door that rouses him this time.

He pries his eyes open, instant regret flooding his veins because he slept in his contacts again.

“Uhgimmeaminute,” he slurs out, hand frantically groping for his phone to check the time. Which is useless since it’s dead anyway.

Your voice sounds out from behind the door, “Steve, you awake?” A pause. “Dinner’s ready, if you want any.”

He’s managed to turn over onto his stomach, elbows sinking into the mattress, hands cradling his head as he struggles to wake the fuck up.

“Yeah,” he rasps out, “Be there soon.”

Music echoes from the kitchen, something soothing and low-energy. You’ve set the table and lit a few taper candles you’d managed to find. He pours himself a glass of wine and takes a seat, watching while you sway and sing to yourself.

You sing along with the music, accompanying Paul Simon as he talks about being being lovers and marrying fortunes together. Steve sighs.

He may be biased of course, but he’s always adored your singing— you’re no vocalist, not really, but that doesn’t stop you. You’ll warble out any tune that strikes your fancy with gusto. Eddie and his attempts to rope you into any sort of musical education had gone amiss— you like what you like, and you’ll sing what you like.

He could listen to you all day, if you’d let him.

He clears his throat and you nearly flip the skillet in front of you, wine glass ringing from the tapping of your jewelry against it. “Christ! You scared the shit outta me, dude!”

Steve cocks his head to the side, also listening—to the music, perhaps to your now uncomfortably loud heartbeat. You run your hand through your hair. The music chimes into a similar calming tone as the chorus starts.

You set a plate down in front of him and slide into a chair to his left. He looks at you, questioning, “Not hungry?”

“Oh, me? I think I’ll just chew on these grapes for a bit.”

You take a sip of wine and make a show of working your jaw, as if you are, in fact, chewing the grapes from the Malbec. He huffs a laugh at your antics, tucking into his own dinner. With a wink, you swallow and say, “I ate during your nap, so I’m good.”

He’s not sure exactly what you’ve whipped up, but it’s damned good. “Right,” he says, hand covering his chewing mouth, “Sorry about that.”

“S’fine,” you assure him with a wave, “No worries.”

The lights are dimmed. The guitar melody crescendos before the song ends. There’s a pause of silence before the next song begins, and you feel your heart leap as the first few words start.

“Um…” Your voice cracks. “So, about that explanation.”

His eyebrows raise briefly before he blinks a couple of times. You tilt your chin to your chest and lace your fingers together, foot tapping anxiously as you sit in wait. “I mean, I think I’m just a little unprepared. Like, obviously, we kissed in December and then we both just let it go. And I’m supposed to have it worked out by now—but recently there’s been … tension.” You pause for a drink, “I guess it’s only natural for you to want to know— I just got freaked out when I realized how you felt. Not only because I’m literally the last person to figure it out… It’s just—”

You’re full of rambling, nervous energy but you try your best to play it off. It was such an awkward thing to say out loud, and there was no way you could come out and spit: I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for while now.

Steve laughs and leans forward, putting his hand over yours. “I just… didn’t want to mess anything up.” He says, eyes earnest and fixed on yours, “At least, I hope I didn’t.” He cuts himself off, clearing his throat, “I mean, I lo—,” He stops, covering with a brief cough, “I, uh, care about you, a lot.”

A heavy silence falls between you as the next track begins, allowing you to wallow in your own cowardice. Your inability to say exactly what he nearly admitted to a moment ago.

Love.

Is that what the pressure in your chest is? The nerves fluttering in your stomach anytime you catch sight of him or your phone dings with a notification? A reason for the ever-present smile on your face as you gossip with him in the hall before the bell rings? An answer for your burgeoning insomnia because you can’t sleep well unless you’re by his side?

Cause if so… god is it fucking torture.

Since kissing Steve Harrington in the living room on that Sunday evening last December, you’ve replayed that kiss over and over again, time after time as you fall asleep. It’s been approximately two months and some change, numerous lunches and dinners, with one long walk in the park with your family dog before he got a frantic call from Robin and had to leave for “bake sale disaster clean up.” You don’t want to precisely calculate how much time has passed. What you do know is that all these moments add up to you lying in bed thinking about it while trying desperately not to scream.

Tack on to that Steve quite literally catching you this morning with your hand down your shorts, seconds from release while you were most definitely thinking of him.

Jesus H. Christ.

You linger at the table, twirling your empty wine glass between two fingers as you think. Steve clears his plate, gets himself a glass of water, and you return to the kitchen to join him. He’s patting his thighs with his wet hands when you come in, nodding along to the music.

You gaze at the damp spots on his legs, the fabric of his trousers slightly clinging onto his thighs. Quickly, before he sees you, you look away.

“The National?” He asks amusedly, “I really like them… he’s got a great voice.” It’s different from the song you’d included on the vinyl you’d given him over Christmas, but apparently he knew enough of their catalogue to recognize them by sound alone.

Color you surprised.

But I'm gonna keep you in love with me for a while / I'm gonna keep you in love with me.

Steve walks closer to you, stopping a few steps away and leans against the edge of the island. He crosses his arms and press his lips together, eyelashes fluttering as he smiles.

“What now?” He asks. His voice echoes the same low and deliberate tone you’ve heard before, and you think that the question isn’t really a question at all. But you’re not really sure what to make of it—tonight may have been the most forward he’s ever been.

“Was that, uh, an adequate explanation for you?”

“What you mean?”

Standing on your tiptoes, you move to face him. “What I mean is,” you begin, “In your expert opinion, did my rambling monologue over there satisfy the IOU?”

You pause and wait for his answer.

Darkness flutters over his eyes briefly before he catches your mouth with his instead. With a half-whimper, half-moan, Steve Harrington cups the back of your neck in one large, warm hand and your lower back with the other and presses your body flush against his.

Oh.

A brief parting of your lips gives you a moment to catch your breath, but he’s back again, tongue sliding against yours sweetly, as if asking a silent question.

Is this okay?

With a sigh of pleasure, you ask him to continue in the same, secret language. Your chest is burning hot, tummy quivering with nerves and delight as his hands roam your body. Firm. Strong. Almost desperate. Your own hands rest against his chest before one reaches up and cups his face, “D-does that answer your question?” He mutters against your mouth before he slides down past your jaw and lands his lips on your neck, “We could—”

Until suddenly Robin’s advice rears its ugly head.

Steve had been warned about not getting involved, repeatedly. Plenty of concern from Robin about getting “poorly wired idiot signals” crossed. It’s dangerous with a friend, even more so with you because he can’t lose you.

Point blank refuses to, in fact.

He abruptly pauses and pulls away, like he thought better of it. His hands place you back down on your feet– back to Earth– as he swallows hard, looking at you with open, red lips. Steve rolls the bottom one between his teeth and clenches his jaw, eyes half-lidded and lustful. You’re probably a wreck, too, you think as you catch yourself against the counter.

In the absence of his mouth and yours and his warm hands skating across your body, you’re terrified.

And from the look on Steve’s face, you’d wager he is as well.

Suddenly you’re looking at him one way, and then in a flash, the same grin you always give him— the crooked one on the cusp of a dumb joke— turns bright white.

It goes brilliant like solar flare, and he thinks he must be losing his mind.

He hazards a glimpse to you.

Maybe Steve’s been losing it for a few weeks now, but he’s done a great job dodging the reality of your confession so far. Doesn’t matter what you mumbled—cracked out on exhaustion and sleep-talking—because in the end, you’re his friend and you love him the same way you love everyone else: annoyingly. Nothing’s changed about that.

It was just a kiss.

He says your name carefully and you perk up at the sound of his voice. He clears his throat, “We should probably call it a night.”

A feeble sigh as Steve pushes his hands into his face, gripping his hair, pulling his own head back until he’s staring at the ceiling, willing this excruciating moment to pass him by.

“Y-yeah, okay,” you whisper.

When he finally looks back down, you’ve left without a sound.

“Mmm…”

He wakes up for a third time, not that he had been sleeping soundly by any means.

It’s barely audible at first, especially if he was still oblivious, but now it’s like his ears can comprehend a new language, like all his senses have been heightened.

Or maybe it’s just because you didn’t close your door entirely tonight. Steve can’t blame you, he did, after all, interrupt you this morning.

He can’t recall if voyeurism was ever his kink, but just this once, maybe it can be. His curiosity takes hold, lights up upon hearing a stifled groan of a syllable that sounds surprisingly like his name. If he focuses, he can dampen the nighttime outside his window, smother out the air conditioning and—

“Steve… that’s… oh, it feels so good…”

His cock springs to life.

There’s a rhythm of folded knees, thighs squeezed together in pulses, fingers reaching between them, and the hot, pleading breaths you puff into the clamped grasp of your hand. Even your heart, wildly banging around in your chest. He takes note of the tempo and dives beneath the waistband of his shorts, keeping pace.

“There, faster… don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He thinks, I won’t, and finds it a little perfect how this entire thing seems to be mutual, after all.

He wakes for the last time, in the late morning, and rolls out of bed to brush his teeth and shower. He definitely smells like sex, and when he opens the door to the bathroom, you’re already at the counter, also smelling like sex. Steve slyly looks down and adjusts himself, tilting his groin away and out of view.

“Mornin’” You rub at your temple, squinty and tired. “Think you were in my dream last night,” you say absently, blinking out the sleep, ungracefully squeezing toothpaste onto your toothbrush where it falls off in a goopy pile. You scrub in gentle circles, leaning over to spit and rinse, and come back up wet and bleary. As Steve washes his face, you tug his towel from the rack.

He pats off his cheeks, brushes his own teeth with one hand next, the other reaching sideways to swipe a rolling bead of water off your neck, purposefully running his thumb up your throat.

Low and encouraging, he asks, “Yeah? Was it a good dream?”

You blink in quick flutters at that, surprised and abruptly reliving a fuzzy memory, a prickle of dew casting itself over your brow.

“Y-yes,” you stutter, sudden heat rippling off your body, that lovely perfume of incoming arousal rising to meet him. When you stumble back, flustered, he holds you still, sets you on your shaky feet.

Steve licks his lips, thinks about how maybe this won’t be a thing he’ll simply get over, how he is quite glad to have you, and maybe he can have more of you, too.

He thinks about how easily a mutual fantasy can come true and murmurs, “That’s good, honey. That’s real good.”

An exasperated huff as Steve sticks his arm out in front of your collar. You look at him in irritation, ready to swat it away until your feet trip over a loose rock and he catches you by the shoulder.

“Watch it,” he says calmly, setting you on your feet, “If you stop looking down at your feet, you might see something you like.”

Target acquired: you got a juicy ass, Harrington.

Smartly, you shut up, letting him walk ahead in case any more errant rocks might make you eat your words again.

The trail to Skull Rock is popular, full of hikers and brush branches as you’ve repeatedly discovered by taking twigs to the face. Keeping close to Steve, you let him shoulder most of the burden, only putting your hand up when a branch he snaps off with his hand flies too close to your eyes.

“IF—” You start loudly, and Steve bristles at your volume, “If you could pick one person from history who you’d take out to dinner, if circumstances made it possible,” you pause to take a breather, letting a family pass by on their way down the trail. “Who would it be?”

“I wouldn’t.” Steve retorts, “And you’re being annoying.”

“I’m not!” You insist, hands on your hips and eyes narrowed at him from behind your sunglasses. “You’re just being boring and refusing to play DC.”

“What’s that— the stupid thing the kids were whispering about recently? Dead crush?”

You respond with a maniacal giggle. “Mine’s Rasputin, he’s Russia’s greatest love machine!”

Steve groans. Shoulders his bag with a disappointed sigh, exasperated that you tricked him into this stupid game, “Fucking– you’ve got to be kidding. That’s disgusting.”

With a flick of your wrist, you condescendingly scoff. “Glass houses Steve,” you tease. “Besides, you’d probably pick someone like Princess Di because you’re predictable.”

“Rasputin’s a bit dark, isn’t he?” Steve shakes his head, forging ahead on the trail.

Sticking your tongue out at the back of his head, you fix your gaze forward with a sly smirk.

“Who would you pick, Mr. H.? Let’s get a peek into that big brain of yours.” You lick your lips as he looks back over his shoulder.

Steve mulls the question over for a second, “Margaret Thatcher. I’d take her to dinner. And then to an early grave.”

There’s an exasperated sound that escapes your lips. “Okay, that’s not really how the game works. This is not supposed to be a political commentary- it’s a genuine display of … attraction!”

“To corpses.” He mutters.

“Okay, that’s dark.” You exhale with a brief chuckle.

You’re stunned into silence thereafter, and it’s a wonder, since Steve’s never known you to be silent for anything. A life-time of no-filter commentary that makes him physically ill at times, and you’re shocked quiet.

The fallout of last night lingered awkwardly, coloring the lazy morning and early afternoon. He didn’t even have the courage to look at you—only forging on with the day, dewy with sweat. Briny with exertion. Sweet and tangy and whipping through the air, chased by dry wind.

Steve’s back in the driver’s seat, you’re riding shotgun. Shades perched on your nose bridge, ruddied pout glorious against the sunset backdrop.

“You alright?”

A bead rolls down your brow, gets lost in the damp hair coiled by your ear. Steve reaches over, brushing your arm and you pull back, letting him dig in the backseat. He loops a finger through a hydroflask and hands it over. “Here.”

A small smile as you take it from his slack grip.

The cool water slides right down your throat and soothes the fever in your throat. A clatter of the visor’s mirror slides open and you look at your reflection before pushing your glasses up again.

Steve has already returned to his side, staring out the gaping window, hair rushing over his beautiful face.

You tapped on his hand, water bottle clinking against it fell to the floor at your feet. The evening is cooling, chasing away the day’s heat. A filmy layer of sweat begins to condense on your brow despite the open windows and a/c on full blast.

And it’s just his way, isn’t it? To smile and wait, look so peaceful while your heart howls for him. To say I love you without ever having to say it at all.

Shyly, with his hand inching toward yours, eyes glowing the slightest bit gold as night falls, he whispers, “Better?”

A brief nod, you settle back against the passenger seat suddenly exhausted.

“Stay awake for me, we’ll be home soon.” Steve pleads, linking fingers through yours in the growing darkness. The car rumbling back to life. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

His quiet way, his patient way, his careful way. Loving you without loving you. Telling you without telling you. Secret languages finally understood.

A kiss pressed to the top of your head and you don’t know if you should laugh or cry when he moves his hand to your thigh, fingers tangled up in yours. All you can do is duck your head and grin.

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #teacher!steve #reader instert #the kids aren't alright - rosewaterandivy

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