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pseudowho · 6 months

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Kento Comes Home Drunk

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

The reader manages her drunk, horny fiancé, Nanami Kento, like an absolute champ.

Link to the sequel here: Reader Comes Home Drunk

WARNINGS: 18+, soapy handjobs (F to M), mutual masturbation, cumshots, ethics of consent, Kento being a sloppy drunk

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Hope he's having a good time, you mused to yourself, nursing a late cup of tea. The clock ticked well past midnight; you were the overnight on-call for Curse-related shenanigans, so whilst you had wanted to join Satoru, Shoko, Ino, Ijichi and Kento for drinks, you had, instead, waved Kento off, and settled in for a night with your phone on loud, and late-night game shows.

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"Hate to see you leave," you'd sighed at 6pm, bobbing upwards for a kiss. He had traded his work attire for a buttoned black shirt, and simple dark jeans. Effortlessly handsome. You buried your face in his chest, breathing his cologne, and gave him a playful shove on the chest, like trying to push a truck.

He stepped backwards, with a lopsided smile and his hand reached out to pinch your chin affectionately.

"But love to watch me go?" You winked at him. You were wearing his favourite outfit; your oldest pyjamas. He found something so sexy about you being comfy. You preened at him, cradling your first tea of the night.

"You know it." He chuckled, but became serious immediately after.

"Call me if you're called out overnight. I want to be around if anything...happens." You nodded, hand on heart.

"Good luck beating off other women with sticks. Hope you've practiced your comedy rejections."

Kento hummed sagely, "Bold of you to assume I'm a man? My doctor said I shouldn't until the smallpox has cleared up? Undskyld, jeg taler ikke Japansk?"

You laughed, gave him one final kiss, and waved him out of the door.

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Firmly lost in late-night TV and stifling a yawn, you noted the time; nearly 2am. As you smilingly hoped Kento was having fun, there was a firm tap at the door. You rose to answer it, and you paused to hear shuffles, bumps, hushed voices and fumbled keys. Rolling your eyes, you opened the door to a waft of whisky fumes dressed as your fiancé.

"Fiancé delivery service! Sorry for the late call ma'am, I tried to throw him over the gate but he was too heavy." Satoru heaved Shoko higher onto his back, and she groaned, face first in his shoulder. Ino and Ijichi swayed behind him, quietly huddled over Ino's phone and arguing over what food to order.

You smirked up at Kento, who was possibly more gorgeous while dishevelled, shirt half untucked, sleeves rolled, and stumbling into the hallway to kick his shoes off. He walked the confident walk of a drunk man back towards the door, possessively looping an arm around your waist and planting a sloppy kiss to your neck. Glaring at Satoru, he gripped the doorframe.

"I didn't need you to get me home, Gojo. I'm not drunk." Kento shuffled his whole face into your neck, gripping your pyjamas hard. You thanked Satoru, and sent him off to deliver the other drunkards home. Kento slammed the door hard, and backed you up against the wall while you laughed, slapping at his chest as he mumbled incoherent greetings against the side of your face.

"Behave yourself, buddy, you're hammered. Let's get you to bed." He groaned cheerfully, taking this as an invitation. His eyes met yours, unusually playful, and with a wink started to slowly unbutton his shirt. You rolled up a nearby newspaper and swatted his hands. Mouth watering at the sight of his abs, you sternly told yourself off.

"It is unethical to have sex with drunk people when you're sober. I don't know what you think you're getting tonight, but you should adjust your expectations." Bodily manhandling him, you turned him around while he grumbled at you, urging him towards the bathroom. He sat against the counter, bum accidentally setting off the tap in the sink, while you set the shower running. He stumbled and cursed behind you, trousers now wet and clinging to his muscled thighs. You heard him stripping while you waited for the water to heat up.

He thinks he's being sneaky, you thought to yourself as Kento pressed himself into your back, erection now full and visible against his underwear, and his hands slipped boldly under your pyjamas. While one hand reached up to cup your breast, the other snuck down to graze against the top of your mound. Involuntary shivers of pleasure ran down your spine, his wet mouth on your neck smelling of hot whisky and smoke.

"I have full capacity," Kento purred against your neck, tongue trailing up to your ear now, "and I'm so delighted my girl is still home, and I'd love nothing more than to make her the final taste on my tongue tonight." He stopped, musingly, his gaze at you still drunk and fluttering.

"Unless you don't want to," he pondered, taking his hands from your body. You pouted up at him, crossed arms and faux-angry, and nodded towards the shower.

"You smell like a bar. Behave yourself." Kento chuckled at you, cracking his neck and sighing, absent-mindedly palming his erection through his underwear. His cock sprang up as he finished undressing, pink-tipped and perfect, and you couldn't resist looking him up and down. He stepped into the shower, hot water cascading down his broad shoulders. Leaning one hand against the glass, he eyed you ruefully again.

"I'll manage myself then, shall I?" Still leaning on the glass, his eyes drifted shut as his other hand trailed down his body to grip his wet cock. "Please don't feel obliged to stay." You tried to appear unaffected, and moved to turn, but paused as you heard the slow wet strokes of him pumping himself under the running water. The drink lowered his guard, and he let out a long, slow moan of relief as he pleasured himself, now totally oblivious to your presence.

You felt heat pool between your legs, your arms covered in goosebumps and your nipples pebbling under the cool pyjama fabric. You considered your options.

Still stroking himself, and gradually increasing the pace, Kento was imagining you riding him on the sofa, like you had done only days before, his hands on your eager hips as you told him how deep you could feel him. He groaned to himself, desperate to feel that intense intimacy and pleasure again, enhanced by the alcohol running through his system.

Thoughts interrupted by a tap on the shower glass, he opened his eyes to you, leaning against the bathtub, one hand moving slow circles over your clit and another rolling your nipple between your fingers. Lower lip between your teeth, you blushed as you watched Kento pleasure himself.

Kento moaned unashamedly, swiping his thumb over his tip, cock twitching furiously in his hand.

"I'll return the favour, I promise," he begged you, eyes fully focused on where your hand moved steadily beneath your pyjamas, feeling his pulse quicken as you flushed and moaned, legs weakening against the tub, "I know what you're like when you come home drunk, you're a nightmare, saying no to you is a chore."

Lip still between your teeth you smiled at him, and, now feeling especially naughty, you moved to straddle the lip of the bathtub. Kento's jaw dropped as you began to ride it, sighing his name as if he wasn't there, now slipping your pyjama top down to release your aching breasts.

"Shit...please get in here before I lose my mind," and he stopped stroking himself, hand gripping the base of his cock as pre-cum trickled out, merging with the running water. His head was still spinning with the alcohol, but his senses were sharpened by your performance, so he watched you hungrily, determined that he'd cum inside you if he had any say in the matter.

You continued to hump the side of the bath, shuddering, eyes glinting with mischief.

"How can I trust that you know what you're asking?" You replied breathlessly, "It is unethical. I'd be taking advantage. I'd hate for you to regret me in the morning."

Kento grinned at you. "But watching me is fine? It seems worse somehow. Regret you," he scoffed. Humour aside, Kento shifted uncomfortably, grunting as his cock continued to throb in his hand. "Get in here," he wheedled, "and stop fucking the bathtub in front of me, and use me instead."

You acquiesced, resolve cracking. Stripping quickly, you slipped into the shower, pressing against him and immediately gripping his pulsing shaft. He stuttered and whined, hands pressed back against the glass, panting as you squeezed him.

"Alright, you win," you breathed against him, licking the flat of your tongue across his nipple, tasting the sweat and nightclub on his skin, "but I will absolutely remember this when I'm the one who's drunk and begging."

You spun Kento around again, and reached around his hips to grasp his cock just as he would as he pleasured himself. He continued to pant, whining and begging you for relief. You rubbed his tip with the flat of your palm, teasing, before starting to stroke from the head to the base of his cock in well-practiced motions.

Kento moaned and murmured sweet praise. His hands pressed against the glass, fingers flexing and unfolding as you fondled his bum lovingly, nipping his shoulder blades and sweeping your wet hand up and down his cock, gently twisting and squeezing at the head until he was gasping. You kept a steady pace, Kento occasionally thrusting forwards into your hand, calling you his good girl, his sweetest thing, being so good to him.

Head swimming with the alcohol, Kento gladly accepted the handjob, overwhelmed by the pleasure and steam of the shower. As he was about to turn to insist on bending you over against the shower wall, your second hand crept round to his throat and squeezed just hard enough for his moan to catch in his chest. Balls tightening and abdomen twitching, Kento gasped as you whispered into his ear; "be a good boy and cum in my hand".

Kento broke, wave after wave of pleasure rushing through him, strengthened by the drink, as thick spurts of cum shot into your hand and against the shower glass. He moaned your name, hips thrusting sloppily, one hand reaching round to squeeze your waist. Your pace slowed, squeezing gently as you pumped every last drop out of him.

Kento slumped against the glass, a dopey satisfied smile on his face, and hummed happily as he felt a soapy sponge start to clean his back. By the time you had gently scraped your nails through his hair, rinsing him of the last suds, he was barely awake in the steamy bathroom.

"Come on, big guy. Let's get you to bed." Kento frowned at you, looking faintly guilty.

"But I haven't done anything for you." You stroked his cheeks, full of affection.

"Trust me, that did plenty for me. I'll be storing that in my head for a long time."

Kento blushed, but allowed you to lead him to bed and dry his hair. He was face down in bed and asleep within seconds, his body relaxed, his tense muscles loose and softened.

You hesitated before checking the time; if you hadn't been called out by now, you probably wouldn't be, you convinced yourself. Pulling on one of Kento's shirts, you sat your phone by the bed and slipped under the sheets, tucking close to his warmth with one knee lifted over the small of his back.

"Still think I took advantage of you," you mumbled to Kento, before falling asleep to his warmth and deep, soft breaths, safe and happy in the dark.

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This best boy deserves a soapy handjob

And the sequel, Reader Comes Home Drunk, link here.

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caramelberzatto · 2 months

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a little taste // c. berzatto

oh we're so back-

- clarke xx

(nsfw below: 18+, swearing, p in v, etc. afab!reader. no use of pronouns.)

He called your name through the dark apartment, but it went unheard from where you laid, face down. One arm tucked under your pillow, one leg hiked up, resting over the bunched duvet, your even breaths whispered into the room. Wearing only your work blouse and underwear, as close as you’d gotten to having a shower after work before passing out, goosebumps pebbled your flesh from the AC blaring.

“Sweetheart,” Carmy muttered when he stepped into your bedroom, noting your sleeping form, a smile tugged at his lips. He’d missed you today, after he’d woken up late and found you’d already left for work, but he vaguely remembered your goodbye kiss, the taste of your lipgloss still lingered on his tongue. It had left him with a boiling pit in his stomach, a need that prodded his mind the whole day, leaving him irritable and… flustered; not that he’d ever admit that.

Pulling his shirt over his head, leaving it in a pool of fabric by the door, he approached you, wincing as the bed creaked when he knelt on it, moving to hover over you.

“Baby,” he muttered, brushing your hair out of your face, smiling slightly at the mascara smudged beneath your eyes, the faint glimmer of gloss that had survived the day. “Come shower.”

You stirred, only slightly, only enough to raise your hips, brushing your ass against his crotch, and that boiling pit flared into a bonfire. Carmy groaned, a low sound at the back of his throat, and kissed your cheek.

“Come on,” he almost choked on his words when you brushed against him again, with a little more force this time, and Carmy shook his head when he noticed the smirk on your face though your eyes remained closed.

“Later, Carm,” you hummed, hiking your leg a little higher, a silent invitation. “I’m so comfy.”

Carmy scoffed, skirting his hand up your side, a slight skimming of warm fingertips, slipping beneath your shirt. “You want something, huh?”

You said nothing, only mumbling a few indiscernible words before burying your face in the pillow.

“Didn’t quite catch that,” Carmy slid his hand into your hair and tugged, ever so gently, until you glanced over your shoulder at him, sleepy eyes fluttering open. “You’ll have to use your words.”

A soft whine escaped your lips and you shook your head, fighting the mischievous grin that would give you away; as though Carmy didn’t already know exactly what you wanted.

“Come on,” he prompted, leaning down to kiss your neck, running his tongue along the sensitive flesh, before nipping at your jaw. “Ask me.”

Groaning something that sounded an awful lot like his name, you arched up, pressing your ass fully against him, where you found the hardness of his cock straining against his jeans.

“Please… I want you to fuck me… right here, like this.”

Carmy was a man of steely reserve, but his resolve crumbled hearing your soft voice, still hoarse and thick with sleep, asking him to fuck you. And you said it so damn sweetly, how could he ever say no?

Moving slowly, he lifted two fingers to his mouth, let a thin trail of spit coat them, then tucked your underwear to the side, easing into your warmth. The sound that slipped from your mouth, something so fractured and pathetic, made Carmy’s cock twitch. And when he curled his fingers, hitting that spot inside you, a shiver worked its way through your body and you gripped the sheets, desperate for some kind of tether.

It was torturous, pushing back into him, only to have him pull away. And, if you’d opened your eyes, you knew you would’ve seen that insufferable smirk pasted across his face. Carmen Berzatto loved to tease, and he was stupidly, unfairly good at it.

His fingers slid out of you, and the sharp grating sound of a zip reached your ears in your sleepy haze and you fought to hold back a smile. It seemed that he didn’t want to tease today, and you held back your sigh of relief. But it didn’t stop you from playing a little game of your own.

“You gonna give me what I want?” You were trying for boldness, but it came out as soft murmur, warped by a gentle smirk.

“That depends,” he grunted, accompanied by the telltale rustling of fabrics, before the head of his cock settled where you wanted it most. He swiped it through the slick gathered there, but made no move to push in. “You gonna say please?”

The ‘please’ left your lips as soon as he’d asked for it, almost embarrassingly quickly, but Jesus Christ. Wanting him, needing him, was all-consuming, and it was easy to fall into a pattern of craving him.

And then he was inside you, burying deep with one slow thrust, and the two of you moaned in unison. His breath warmed the side of your neck as he caged you in, forearms braced on either side of your head, the only warning before he sunk his teeth into the sensitive flesh of your neck. A whine of his name died on your lips as he moved, pulling out then thrusting back in. Slow, lazy strokes that had you whimpering quietly into the pillow, brows furrowed and eyes scrunched shut.

There was no haste, only minute-after-minute passing by, slowly moving together. No rush, no fervour, just the familiar comfort of having him close, each thrust hitting deep. The soft whines that slipped from your lips turned into muttered curses, then a steady repetition of his name. A quiet and desperate prayer. A plea.

He was hovering, just barely, his chest against your back. Each stroke pushed you down into the mattress slightly. And it felt so sinfully good to be surrounded by him, to feel him everywhere. Some days, the need for him just felt so dire that you just wanted to stay in bed with him and spend hours memorising the taste of him; his lips, his tongue, his cock. All of it. There was a certain kind of relief, knowing he was yours.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,” Carmy groaned, bracing a hand on your waist in an attempt to ground himself, contain himself.

“So do– fuck, so do you.” You could hardly breathe, too caught up in the pleasure he provided. Raising your hips slightly, one of your hands slithered down, gliding against the sheets, to your clit, where you traced slow circles. But Carmy’s hand swatted yours away.

“Let me, baby,” he muttered, kissing the tender spot below your ear, nipping at your earlobe affectionately. “Just relax for me. Lay there and just take it, baby.”

It didn’t take long after that.

Writhing beneath him, you let out a long, low moan into the pillow as you shuddered, thighs trembling. Carmy thrusted deep, though his composure wavered, and when he pulled out, jerking his cock a few times, you rolled over, wanting to see him lose it completely.

His head tilted back, mouth slightly ajar, he groaned as he came, spilling onto your stomach. The warmth of it made you shiver. The veins in his neck bulged, and you wanted to graze your teeth along them, drag your tongue up the length of his throat.

Carmy looked down at you then, breathless and panting, smiling placidly up at him. Dragging your finger through the mess he’d made, you brought it to your lips, sucking it clean.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He ran his hands through his hair, climbing off you. “Let’s go shower, get you cleaned up, fuck.”

But he couldn’t look away; the way that you just laid there looking at him with that perfect fucking smile, the dirty evidence of what the two of you had done, legs draped open. Fuck.

Carmy couldn’t help himself as he grabbed your ankles, gently manoeuvring you to the edge of the bed, and knelt between your legs.

A little taste couldn’t hurt.

#the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto smut

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velvetures · 9 months

Note

Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.

So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.

So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!

Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))

I Knew, Sweetheart

A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.

John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.

Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.

Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.

You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.

A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.

John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.

At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.

Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.

God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.

Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.

Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.

“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.

“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”

He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”

Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.

He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”

You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.

John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.

“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.

You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.

“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.

“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.

“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.

Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.

“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.

“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.

“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.

“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.

He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”

“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”

“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”

His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.

John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.

In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.

“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.

Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.

Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.

“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.

“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.

“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.

“Give me hand, Captain?”

He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.

The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.

“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.

“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.

His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.

John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable

With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.

Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.

“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”

His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.

John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.

Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.

Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.

“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.

It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.

“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.

Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.

God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.

Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.

“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”

Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.

“Please, I want this. I want you John.”

Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.

“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.

“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.

Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.

“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.

Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.

Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.

Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.

“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.

You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.

“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.

You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.

He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.

Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.

Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.

“I love you, John. More than anything.”

He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“You’re my best friend.”

He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.

“You’re mine too.”

yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.

#john price #captain john price #captain price #mwii #cod mwii #john price x reader #john price smut #captain price x reader #captain price smut #velvetures #velvetures writes #velvetures answers #cod #anon <3

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thetriumphantpanda · 5 months

Text

Eyes Wide Open | Joel Miller

The Checklist - Exhibitionism

Chapter Summary | You want people to watch you, Joel knows exactly how to help you with that.

Chapter Warnings | Are y'all bored of the porn without plot warning yet? Joel takes you to a sex club, public sex, exhibitionism, Joel gets cocky that people like looking at you getting fucked, unprotected PiV sex, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, aftercare, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU. Disclaimer that I've never been to a sex club so I have no idea if this is accurate, but we move. Please be kind.

Word Count | 3.5K

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Authors Note | Shoutout to @hellishjoel for helping me work through the ideas for this one, and shoutout to my dreams for showing me exactly how it should play out. We're on the downhill stretch of the checklist now but it you're still enjoying this then reblogs and comments are always appreciated, and if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that whilst this is part of a wider series, this can be read as a standalone if you wish.

Beautiful divider by @saradika

I no longer have a taglist, to keep up to date with my work, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

It’s a Friday night, not particularly late by the time you shut your computer down and sit back in the chair with a sigh. The door to your office clicks shut behind you as you walk through to the bedroom, intent on changing out of your work clothes and into something comfy, ordering pizza and spending the rest of the weekend attached to Joel’s side, but it seems like he’s got other ideas.

He’s sat on the edge of the bed, changed from his work clothes, but still looking casual in his jeans and a flannel, but sitting next to him, laid out so delicately on the sheets, is his favourite lingerie set of yours. Skimpy, all black see-through lace that leaves nothing to the imagination, and your trench coat sat next to him, and then your trusty pair of black heels on the floor. He’s smirking, but there’s an air of something nervous about him tonight, which you can tell from the bouncing of his leg and the way he runs his hand over his face.

“Change into this,” He says quickly, tone clipped as he stands, “I’ll wait downstairs.”

And then he’s gone, his heavy footfall giving him away as he walks down the stairs, leaving you a little dumbfounded. Your hands are already reaching to divest yourself of your clothes though, letting them fall into a pile at the end of the bed as you slip on the black lace. You don’t even bother to check yourself out in the mirror, you don’t care what you look like. All you know is that this little ensemble drives Joel wild, and that’s plenty for you, as you slip the black heels on and tie the coat around your waist with a knot.

Downstairs, Joel is pacing, something he rarely does unless he’s nervous. The keys to his truck are in his hand. He doesn’t even speak to you when he wrenches open the front door and motions with his hand for you to go outside. He doesn’t speak to you on the drive into town either. It’s not until he’s pulled up along a random street, outside of a nondescript building that he opens his mouth, but only when you question him.

“You wanna tell me why we’re sat outside some random building?”

He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to you with a little sigh, “This seemed like a good idea at the time, but I ain’t sure you’re gonna like it.”

“Try me, Miller.”

Another sigh, “Well, I’ve been thinkin’ about that list again, about you wantin’ people to watch you, watch us, and this was the only thing I could think of,” You raise an eyebrow at him, “It’s a sex club.”

You can feel the smirk growing across your mouth, “Dare I ask how you found a sex club in Austin?”

He grumbles something incoherent which only adds to your amusement of the whole situation, “We don’t have to go in, I know it’s a lot,” He adds, hand finding your thigh under the split in your coat, “Say the words and I’ll drive us back home, unwrap you and fuck you until you can’t walk, it’s up to you baby.”

You take a moment to think, because there is the low bubble of anxiety settling in your stomach. Sure, the idea of someone watching you, admiring you as you get fucked, has always appealed to you. There’s no reasoning behind it, you don’t really know why, it’s just something you’ve always wanted to try. But that doesn’t make the thought of this any easier - it’s a club full of people who probably do this sort of thing all the time, people who have specific things they like to watch, maybe even specific people and what if you aren’t one of them? But, that warm palm on your thigh makes you feel safe, and even if no-one else watches you, he always does.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

You’re not sure what you were expecting from the inside of a sex club on the outskirts of downtown Austin, but it certainly wasn’t this. The inside is beautifully decorated, plush velvet seating, red drapes that section off certain parts of the club, a floor that isn’t sticky, but immaculately clean instead. You were expecting it to smell too, and it does, but not unpleasant in any way. There’s low music playing, and you can certainly hear some of the other people here already having fun, but it doesn’t embarrass you, only makes you more excited.

At the door, someone had explained how things work - there was no obligation to do anything, but if you did want to engage in anything sexual, you had to use one of alcoves that were curtained off. If you wanted people to watch, leave one of the curtains open, and if you wanted them to join in, all you had to do was invite them to do so, but otherwise, they had to watch, and none of them could get themselves off whilst they watched either - the woman explained there were areas to do that elsewhere.

Joel has a hand on your lower back, guiding you over to the bar - strictly no alcohol for obvious reasons - but the bartender makes you a very nice virgin sex on the beach, which is ironic. Joel sips on a 0% beer as you stand and wait to see who makes the first move. You sit and look around, letting the sounds of other women’s pleasure fill your ears, looking at the other couples who are doing much the same as you and Joel are, apart from the fact that you can’t see any of them secretly trying to rub their thighs together for a little relief.

There’s a moment, a little while later, when one of the sets of curtains is pulled back, and a woman, hand-in-hand with a man, walk out, attached at the hip, looking sweaty and sated. You take hold of Joel’s hand, leaving your half finished drink on the bar, and drag him behind the curtain before anyone else has a chance to take it.

“Keen, are we?” He chuckles, watching closely as you close both curtains behind you for now, turning to him.

“Kiss me.”

He walks over to you, lips pressing gently to yours as his hands take hold of the belt keeping your coat together, hands pulling at the knot to undo it, his palms pushing it from your shoulders to leave you standing in just your underwear.

“You want me to open the curtain?” He asks softly against your mouth.

You nod, trying to chase his mouth as he pulls away a little.

“Words, baby,” He says, “Use them.”

You snake your hand around his neck, pulling him back down to your mouth, “Open it,” You demand, “Let them see.”

Letting him go, you walk slowly over to the couch near the back of the room, sitting down on it, crossing one leg over the other as Joel pulls back one side of the curtain. He turns, walking back toward you as he takes off his shirt, unbuckles his belt and leaves both on the floor with your coat. He gently takes hold of your hand, pulling a little to get you to stand up.

Joel settles on the couch, right where you had been sitting before, widening his legs, tapping the material between them for you to sit, which you do, facing the open curtain as you sit between his thighs.

He splays one hand across the naked skin of your tummy, pulling you closer into him, the bulge in the front of his jeans resting against your lower back, the other cradling the side of your face opposite where his lips are currently tracing down your neck and over your shoulder. You close your eyes, let out a soft sigh of pleasure, as your head tips back against his shoulder.

When you open your eyes, there's a jolt of surprise when you see a few people already standing near the open curtain, already watching you. They’re almost casual with it, stood with their arms crossed or leaning against the wall as Joel trails his hand from your tummy to your thigh, widening his own as he pulls yours further apart.

“They’re looking, Joel.” You whisper softly.

“I know, baby,” He coos into your ear, “Shall we give them a show?”

“Yes please.”

It’s all the encouragement he needs, both of his hands coming around your body to cup your tits through the material of your bra, squeezing gently as his teeth start nipping at the skin of your neck.

“Think we should show them how perfect your tits are?” He whispers, fingers dragging up to the straps to slip them off your shoulders, before he pulls the cups down, settling them under your tits to show them off.

Almost like he knows he’s showing you off, parading you in front of people, he brings his palms to the sides of your breasts, pushes them together as your nipples peak stiff in the cool air of the room.

“I think they like you, honey,” Joel’s voice is in your ear again, “Look how many people want to watch you.”

And he’s right, there are a few more bodies that have joined the small crowd that are watching you, as Joel’s hands cup the weight of your tits, his fingers rolling your nipples, drawing a gasp from your mouth as Joel’s hips rock into your back, hard cock digging into your skin, obviously just as affected by by people watching as you are.

“Joel,” You whine, “I need to you touch me.”

“I am touchin’ you, baby,” He chuckles, “You want my hands somewhere else?”

“Please.”

“Given them your tits, now you wanna show them your pussy?”

“Joel, please.”

His hand moves slowly down the bare skin of your tummy and over the lace of your panties, fingers hovering where he knows you’ll be wet, even you can feel the damp material sticking to you. He hooks one of his fingers into the side of your panties, running it over your slick folds a few times as your hands settle on his denim-clad thighs, fingers digging into them as he gently pulls your panties to the side, exposing your core to the people in front of you.

You can hear hums of approval, some people suck in their breath and it makes you preen. Yes, you think, fucking gasp at me, I'm a goddess and look at what this man does to me. Joel’s palm cups your pussy for a moment, his lips still working softly across your neck and shoulder, the roughness of his beard and the way his teeth nip at you sure to leave marks for days.

Then, he drags his palm up, using two of his fingers to spread the folds of your pussy, really showing you off to everyone in front of you. For the first time, you really look at the crowd, there’s not many, many seven or eight people, all stood with their eyes trained on the most intimate part of you, watching as your cunt glistens and flutters around nothing.

“You know what they’re thinking?” Joel asks, his other palm pulling your thighs apart even more, one finger dipping into your slick cunt, dragging the wetness up so he can circle your clit, “They’re thinking this is the prettiest pussy they’ve ever seen.”

He’s got one hand pressed to your belly, dragging you back against him, the other working those tight, precise circles over your clit. Normally, in the privacy of your own home, he’d take his time, but here, any ounce of patience he has is gone. He wants them to see you, wants to know the beauty he gets all to himself, the pussy he gets to do with as he pleases, and most of all, he wants them to know how he makes you cum, almost like he’s proving himself to these strangers. Look at me, look at the man I am, look how well I know this woman’s body and how quickly I can get her off.

It’s all an intoxicating cocktail that has you hurtling towards the finish line in no time. Your head is tipped back against his shoulder again, back arched and hips rocking in time to the movements of his hand, but your eyes are trained on the people in front of you, flitting from face to face as they watch the way your legs start to shake, the way you can clearly see from the front of their trousers how much this turns them on.

“You gonna show them how pretty you are when you come, baby?” Joel asks, hand abandoning your stomach in preference for wrapping around your throat, he doesn’t squeeze, just holds you there, anchors you to his body as his finger circles one, twice, three times more and throws you over the edge.

Fingers still gripping at his thighs, you cry out, moaning his name as his finger slows a little against you but never stops, “Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, “Let it all out for them.”

When you open your eyes, coming down from the high, body warm with pleasure, shaking as Joel’s fingers sink inside you, not to get you off again, but to make sure you’re ready for him, a few more people have joined the crowd now, clearly hearing your cries of pleasure and wanting to know exactly what the fuss was about. Well, you’ve joined just in time, you think, as Joel manipulates you onto your back, leaning back a little to undo his jeans, but not bothering to stand enough to completely take them off, just pushing them down enough to free his cock.

Whilst he fists himself, hand at the base of his cock, you tilt your head towards the people watching you. You’re not stupid enough to imagine they’re all here for you, there are three women dotted in the crowd, and whilst you can never be sure, much like you aren't sure about the men either, you’d like to think some of them are here for Joel, admiring the broadness of him, the thickness of his cock, wondering, imagining they get the opportunity to feel him doing exactly what he does next, which is to sink his cock slowly into your aching cunt.

You’ve spread your legs as wide as you can manage, palms on the underside of your thighs to hold yourself open to Joel as one of his hands props him up next to your head, the other pushing the leg closest to the crowd down, so your aren’t covering what they’re here to see the most.

He drags his cock out of you, almost fully, before he slams his hips back into yours. Your tits bounce with the force, a surprised yelp leaving your mouth, but God it feels good. You’re looking at each other, Joel’s intense brown eyes looking down at your face, your mouth dropped open in pleasure as he sets the pace, drawing gasps and whines from you each time he pushes his cock back into you.

Letting go of your leg once he’s sure you’re in a position where everyone can watch the way his cock is stretching your cunt, he takes hold of your face in his hand, fingers pressing into the soft skin of your cheeks which makes your lips purse a little. He drags your face away from looking at his own, one cheek laying against the material of the couch, looking at the crowd, you catch one man run a palm over the bulge in his jeans whilst he looks you dead in the eye, but it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable, it makes you feel powerful.

You can feel Joel’s nose nuzzling at your other cheek, lips pressed to the sweaty skin, “Look at them, baby,” He demands, “All of them watching you get fucked, you like that?”

All you can manage with his hand on your face is a ‘Mmmhmm’.

“I know you like it,” He breathes, “Know how I can tell?” It’s rhetorical, of course it is, “You’re squeezin’ me so fucking tight, baby, and you’re drippin’, so turned on by all these people who wanna fuck you, huh?”

It’s another ‘mmmhmm’ that he gets in response, but your hips are moving up to meet his now, letting the tip of his cock brush so deep inside of you that you see stars.

“What do you think they want to see most?” He asks, breathless in your ear, “Do you think they want to see me fill you up?” But you shake your head in his hand, “No, you’re right baby,” He agrees, “I think they want to see me cover you, paint my cum all over you.”

You know he’s not going to last much longer. You know him, and you know his signs. The way he gets more vocal in your ear, groaning and panting, and the way his thrusts get heavier, sloppier. You know it, he knows it, and the gaggle of eyes on you mean you’re both hanging on for dear life, Joel trying to hold himself back, wanting just one more from you.

Snaking a hand between your body, you circle your own clit, slick and wet and sensitive from earlier as he finally lets go of your face, holds himself up on both him palms planted on either side of your head, hips slamming into yours, lewd smacking of skin and your combined breathless pants the only thing people can hear over the sounds of whatever other people are doing outside of here.

“That’s it baby,” He encourages lightly, “God, you’re fuckin’ perfect around me, make yourself come and then I’ll give you what you want.”

Like magic, you do, body arching up into his, legs hooking around his lower back as you come for him, moaning his name, looking at only him now as he sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth.

“Hold your legs open baby,” He asks, “Gonna give you what you want, okay?”

You’re boneless, palms pressing against your knees to keep you open as Joel slips his cock from your warmth, one hand furiously fisting at himself, the other keeping his body weight off you. You feel the first rope of warmth hit your stomach before he tosses his head back, calls your name out to the ceiling as he covers you in him. Pools of thick, white seed land across your skin as his hand milks every last drop from his cock, the two of you just watch each other for a moment, the only sounds you can hear are you own breath sucking into your lungs and the sounds of what other people are doing outside of your little oasis.

“You okay?” Joel asks softly, leaning forward to press his warm lips to your forehead.

“I’m good,” You smile, “Really good.”

“Yeah?” He asks, almost surprised as he sits back on his knees, tucking himself back into his jeans.

You run your fingernails over his lower belly, scratching gently as you look at him, “I really liked that.”

When you turn your head a little, the people who had been watching you are already gone, onto the next show, the curtain pulled together to give you both a little privacy. Joel stands, finds a box of tissues on the table next to the couch which he uses to clean you up.

“Did you like it?” You ask, as he readjusts the lace of your under, covering you up.

“Yeah, I did,” He smiles, face cupped in his hands to kiss you, “Liked that they could watch, see how perfect you are, but that you’re only mine.”

You snake your arms around his shoulders, kissing him again, “Can we do this again?” You ask, biting at your lip, almost shy to ask for it.

“Yeah baby,” He smiles, keeping you as close to him as he can as he reaches for his clothes, “You wanna come back here?”

You nod, letting Joel slip your coat back onto you, watching as he ties the knot tight, making sure no-one’s going to see you as you leave, as if some of them hadn’t just watch him rail you to within an inch of your life.

Joel presses a kiss to the tip of your nose as he takes your hand in his, “I’ll bring you back,” He promises, pulling the curtain out of the way so you can make your way on shaky legs out of the club, “But right now, I’m gonna take you home, and we’re going to get in the bath, okay?”

“Okay,” You nod, “Take me home, cowboy.”

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mosaickiwi · 22 days

Text

Little "Love" Notes

Angel should really tell someone if they think somebody’s breaking in but instead they do… this? For some reason.

very good idea

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Quiet and quick as could be, [REDACTED] slowly opened your window by the fire escape. He climbed in carefully, a little astonished that you still weren’t bothering to lock it after all these months. Their boots hardly made a sound as he took practiced steps over the hardwood floor of your apartment and headed straight to the kitchen. He didn’t need to see to know which floorboards would creak or groan underfoot.

Just as they expected, the usual sight that had him even more excited to go on his now almost nightly break-ins was there to greet him. A handful of hastily scrawled, bright pink sticky notes were slapped across various surfaces.

At some point or another you'd gotten sick of things going missing. Sure, most of them turned up after a while—and always right where you thought you'd left them—but even still it annoyed you. So you started leaving silly messages for your supposed burglar. He chose to read them as love notes.

“Don't take anything in here you BITCH I'll be so mad!!” screamed one from its place on a kitchen cabinet. Your writing there was a little illegible from how fast you surely wrote it, but he found it endearing.

Another, on the side of some faded plastic-ware read, “I made these cookies for a friend but a lot of them came out wrong. You may have the burnt ones.”

“Give that ugly red shirt back it doesn't belong to me.” That was the last one he could find in the room for now, left on top of the counter next to the notepad and pen you always used.

As much as he wished to, the hacker usually didn’t respond for fear of confirming your needless worries. They'd never want to harm you like a real burglar. But he always followed the instructions when he could. And he could do some of those tonight.

Since you'd so nicely asked, he left the bottom cabinet alone. They already knew what you kept in there anyway. He wouldn’t tell a soul.

He took a few burnt cookies out of the container left on the counter—not enough that you'd notice. Some to eat once he left, and one to keep. It was another thing you offered up to him, after all.

But the sorry excuse of a shirt that your (worst) childhood friend had left behind was long gone. [REDACTED] had already given it a much needed vacation to the bottom of Lake Bluemoss, along with some other items that Leon had dared to leave among your belongings.

With the notes in the kitchen mostly taken care of, he set off towards your laundry closet. Only to find the small sliding door in the hallway closed shut with a note of its own smack dab in the middle.

“Please don't take my comfy clothes anymore :c I know you always give them back but it'll be getting cold soon!! You don’t want me freezing in the middle of the night, do you? Won't you forgive me? Pretty please? ♥ ♥”

Mind going a mile a minute, [REDACTED] had to read your beautiful handwriting again and again as if decoding a different language. Those tiny, black inked hearts at the end of the note were all he could understand in the moment. Your sweetly written, pleading love letter finally sunk in once he managed to shake away the haze you’d unknowingly swept him into.

This one was a risk that he was willing to take. Of course they wanted you to be comfortable. He gently peeled the note off so it wouldn’t tear, and folded it away to tuck into his jeans.

Then, the dark haired man began to tug his favorite hoodie up and over his shoulders.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

You lazily pulled the folding door open in search of a blanket. It was just a little bit colder for some reason when you woke up this morning, so you needed something to keep you cozy while you waited for Violet to come over later that afternoon. You reached up to the middle shelf where you normally kept extra blankets, but something just below it caught your eye.

A huge, black hoodie sat folded on top of the pile of clean towels you forgot to take care of days ago.

You didn't recognize it, but it had to belong to one of your friends, right? They all formed a habit of leaving stuff with you once you moved back to town. Jae still hadn’t picked up the roller skates he got for Maple—they were only used the one time.

Ignoring the blanket you meant to grab, you picked up the hoodie and slipped it on. The giant thing practically swallowed you, sleeves enveloping your hands and the hem falling well past your hips. The garish horror design that decorated its front didn't seem to be anything your friends were into, either.

But it was warmer than you thought possible. Plus, it smelled nice, like cherries and a little familiar comfort of something you couldn't place. Whoever it belonged to surely wouldn't mind if you kept it for a while.

You didn't bother to spare it another thought and hurried off to check the kitchen. Hopefully the cookies you'd painstakingly baked yesterday were still there.

#14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy redacted #14dwy ren #momo writing #yesterday was april fool's...#but redacted is a year round fool /silly #they are my fool i love them #also weird little freak angel love them too #anyways i said this for a haha funny joke but i thought about it a LOT #that is how all my redacted ideas start... why am i like this

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famwhy · 9 months

Text

Right Way Up (03)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

Note: I know Steve's initials are on this chapter but that doesn't mean this chapter is focused on him, just a head's up.

prev part. masterlist. next part.

03. bring unto me altruism

trait: s.h.

"YOU know him?"

Your gaze wandered over the top of the BMW, breaking away from the (very sturdy-looking) back of Billy Hargrove to instead lock eyes with Steve Harrington—the latter of which had his own optics thoroughly narrowed in your direction.

"Huh?"

"The new guy—" he scoffed out, and you watched as his lips tugged down, brows furrowed very harshly, "—do you know him?"

Ah, shit. You have got to stop slipping up, Y/N.

"No." The response came out quick—and you turning around to face Billy again came quicker. He was still walking off—skinny jeans making it almost impossible to ignore his figure, very clearly outlining his... ahem just as they had in the show. "I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know him, though."

"Ew, gross."

"Oh please, like you can talk."

"I can talk, actually, and—hey! Where are you going?"

Midway through his sentence, you had started off towards the school, strutting after the dirty blonde with just as much feigned confidence in your walk as he.

It was rude to walk off halfway through a conversation but that was probably the least of your worries right now. You had a plan and if you wanted to execute it, you couldn't let Billy out of your sight.

"Y/N?"

"Just heading to class, don't worry. Walk Nancy to her first period then head to yours, 'kay? I'll be fine."

What exactly were you doing? Simple—remember the other day when you had no clue where you were going and had to rely on Steve to get you to your classes? Well, today, you could follow Billy Hargrove and, with any luck, you'd end up finding the counselor without having to ask for help and sounding suspicious.

Although, the last of anyone's guesses as to why you were acting peculiar would be that you came from a whole other world; one wherein they were all characters on a screen with almost three-quarters of them being completely irrelevant to the plot and, therefore, not even paid the littlest of attention to by the audience.

Still, better to be safe than sorry.

You had many more worries running rampant in your mind, all loud and overwhelming, grand and all-consuming—almost to the point where you had bumped into the defined back of the 80s bad boy; a defined back which, all of a sudden, wasn't moving like it was just moments ago.

Why did he stop?

The answer to that question was written clearly on the solid plate stuck to the blank, beaten door before you: COUNSELOR.

Your ears perked up as a jingle sounded from the metal knob, a strong, slightly-tanned hand wrapped firmly around it.

The door refused to budge.

"Ah shit," came the steady curse of the broad male. His body had shifted after that, and even an idiot could tell that he was about to turn around, so you did what any sane person would do—you flung yourself to the side and crashed your butt against one of the chairs snugly tucked against the wall.

Ouch... you'd think the chairs next to the guidance counselor's office would be a little more comfy to land on.

If Billy had found your actions at all weird, he showed no signs of it—choosing, instead, to plop himself down on the seat next to you; pink lips pulled into a straight line and ocean-blue gaze as cool as steel. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then Billy's glass panes were sure-as-hell foggy beyond belief because you hadn't grasped a single glance at his soul.

But... you still knew what it looked like, the shattered crystals left behind in the wake of his past, ready to prick whoever dared come near with their razor-sharp edges—and that thought had your heart squeezing painfully, both in sympathy and guilt; sympathy for his unfortunate circumstances and... guilt for knowing so much about this boy who hadn't a single clue that you existed before... well, any of this.

"'S there a reason for your staring, princess?"

You blinked, all of a sudden being the recipient of a grin that didn't quite seem to reach the eyes of the sender.

"Huh?"—damn, caught lost in thought again—"Oh! Uh, you're my new neighbour, right?"

He arched a brow.

"Cherry Lane?" You added. "My brother told me someone moved in and you don't look like anyone I know."

His mouth stayed sewn shut and you chose to keep going.

"I think I saw you get out of your car earlier too, there was a California tag on it, is that where you used to live?"

Again. No words. Though, this time, his lips pulled taut and any sign of that previous expression had vanished.

"I always thought the Golden Coast was pretty." You weren't an idiot, you saw the change in his expression—the shift in his gaze—but you didn't let it stop you, continuing to speak with a small, gentle smile, "I'm thinking of going one day."

His eyes had softened a little at that, and he parted his lips—looking as though he was about to speak—when, all of a sudden, a sound reverberated through the near-empty hall, and he closed them once more, raising a brow before sending a pointed look your way.

You felt it coming, the rumble deep down in the pits of your stomach, but you were helpless in stopping it—in containing it—and it arrived before you could even blink—

—a low growl.

Your fist rose up, a light cough leaving your mouth as your gaze awkwardly drifted to the side. "I, uh, didn't eat this morning."

Silence.

Then—to your utter surprise—soft, mirthful chuckles flooded your ears, causing you to whip your head around so fast, you almost sprained your poor neck. Beside you was a sight for sore eyes; one that resulted in your jaw dropping all the way to the floor and your eyes practically bulging out with how much they'd widened.

Billy Hargrove—the Billy Hargrove—was laughing.

His soft, golden curls bounced with each bout of snickers that left his mouth—beautiful, azure eyes crinkled and barely visible past his squinted lids—and yet—they still looked just as striking as usual, as mesmerising and jaw-dropping as on TV—if not, more so.

And then, it really sank in.

You made Billy Hargrove laugh.

And it wasn't some fake, obligatory giggle—nor was it that little, psychotic laugh he did when hysteria clouded his usually-cold gaze—no, it was full-blown, genuine laughter. And you caused it.

That thought had your chest swelling with a lot more pride than it probably should've—

"What's up with the tattoo?"

The question left his mouth much more comfortably than his previous words, flowing out with a small, slightly-smug quirk of his lips, and it took you a moment to register the fact that he had stopped chuckling, his gaze having drifted down—specifically, towards your wrist.

You trailed his gaze, finding yourself being met with the three, thick lines that had been there since the day you arrived in this world and—unsure of why they were there yourself—you shrugged. "Dunno, I think I got it while blackout drunk once."

Something about your response must've been funny because he officially chuckled for the second time since meeting you. "I didn't know you country folk knew how to party that hard."

Now, you might've not been from Hawkins yourself but... something about the way he said that had your eyes narrowing slightly in his direction, and you sprung up from your seat, the underside of your thighs suddenly being greeted by cold air.

"Watch it. We can party just as hard as you Calis."

Your pupils grew shaky as you stood there, watching the next set of his actions with a tingling feeling deep down in your stomach.

One hand on his denim-clad knee, defined biceps flexing as he slowly rose up—your eyes rising with him. And as he took a step closer to you—lips twitching further up with a glint in his eyes you couldn't quite discern—you found yourself starting to slowly lose your breath, hands growing just the slightest bit clammy with the sudden blaze of active nerves you were struck with.

"Yeah?"

You gulped. "Yeah."

You felt hyper-aware as a rough, sun-kissed hand slid around your waist—fitting perfectly against the curve of your back, slowly dragging you closer, and sending a flurry of pleasant tingles straight up your spine to meet with the group that started to steadily arise in your chest; a chest that was mere millimetres from the thin, cotton material that covered his own.

Then, he leaned towards your ear, lips grazing the lobe as he whispered—a sultry lull bleeding into his tone—"Why don't you show me just how hard you can party, huh?"

Your breath audibly hitched in your throat but—before you could fret over what he'd say next, how he'd respond to your silly, little fumble—a 'click!' sounded from your side, and you threw yourself straight out of his sturdy arms quicker than a bolt of lightning—just in time, too, for the face of an older woman emerged from within the office not even moments later.

"Ah," the lady nodded, "you must be William."

Your eyes flitted over to him just in time to catch the way his jaw ticked.

"It's Billy, actually." And when he responded, his voice came out cold, different to the playful lilt it held just moments before.

It didn't take a genius to figure out the name struck a nerve.

"Ah, my bad. Would you like to come in and grab your schedule, Billy?"

He didn't respond but did as she asked, brushing past you to walk into the smaller room, only sharing a brief few seconds of eye-contact as he walked past—but those brief few seconds were enough to grant you just a tiny glimpse into the thunderous storm hidden within the pools of his irises—

—and as the door shut behind him, your lips tugged down.

You couldn't help but let your mind wander to the way his muscles seemed to tense up at the mention of California, freeze in what you could safely assume was caused by his longing to return to the freedom of his home state.

To be forced to depart from your home was nothing new, but you truly felt for Billy and his circumstances. His dad was more than hard on him—he was downright abusive, and Billy was forced to endure it without a single soul in his corner to help him through it, to guide him down the right path and teach him how to break out of the cycle of abuse he was forced into upon being born.

He was only eighteen. A goddamn child. He shouldn't have had to go through what he did.

He should've had the chance to redeem himself.

But that chance was squandered in Season 3, ripped from him akin to how his life was—a grotesque limb of mixed flesh having pierced through his chest, several other messed-up tentacles latched painfully onto his sides, bleeding him dry, draining the life from his eyes.

He didn't deserve to die.

Officially bummed-out by your own trail of thoughts, you heaved out a sigh before your ears perked up at a familiar 'click!' and your head snapped to the door again.

Out came Billy, the smug twitch of his lips back on his face—it was so comfortably situated there, in fact, that if any other person had seen it, they'd have assumed it was there the whole time.

But, despite him looking perfectly fine as he walked out of the old office, you still felt the urge to fly into his arms and wrap him in an embrace filled to the brim with promises; promises to at least provide him some level of support for what he was going through and what he would go through. Though, unlike with Eddie, you couldn't act upon it.

See, Billy and Eddie were two completely different people—where Eddie had brushed off your sudden hug quite easily—happily welcomed it, even—Billy would definitely question it, especially considering the fact that he didn't even know who you were.

And so, although it took all of your willpower, you refrained from throwing yourself onto him—choosing, instead, to stand still as he sauntered over, fingers rising up to brush against your shoulder gently; teasingly.

"See ya 'round, princess."

Instantly, a flurry of tiny, winged creatures erupted in your stomach, sending tingles through your body—up your spine to seize you at your throat, clawing into your windpipe and rendering you motionless in astonishment and awe and—

Was it just you or was it getting hot in here?

"Y/N?" You blinked, attention turning to the dark-haired female suddenly stood before you. "What are you doing here?"

Forcing yourself to forget that... whatever that was, you let a small, sheepish smile curve onto your lips. "Actually, miss, do you mind if I ask for a reprint of my schedule?"

"A reprint?" She rose a brow, arms slowly folding over her chest. "I thought you already had it memorised."

"Oh, uh,"—cue a small, nervous giggle—"you see, it kinda like... slipped my mind, y'know? And I already lost my old one so... can I have that reprint?"

She stood there for a little while longer—letting you really bask in the glory of her heavy judgement—before finally heaving out a sigh through her nose, sounding like she just aged up another ten years as she spun on her heel, full, brown curls bouncing after her.

The ground was smooth, friction practically non-existant as you rocked on your heels, awaiting the piece of paper with bated breath. The ticks of the clock suddenly didn't seem so much like white noise anymore as impatience furrowed your brows and your teeth jutted out, sinking a little into your bottom lip in anticipation.

Then, with a loud, echoing, "Y/N!"—someone had called out to you, but their voice was too high-pitched to be the one you were looking to hear—not to mention the fact that it came from the hall to your right as opposed to the office in front of you.

Your head whipped around just in time to have your whole body jerk a little as a girl skidded to an abrupt stop right next to you, her brown, soft-looking hair bouncing with an almost unnecessary amount of volume.

In her hands were several pieces of bright orange paper, all inked with a few words you couldn't quite make out—not without squinting at least.

"Hey!"

"Uh, hey..."

Who the hell was this again?

"How have you been? You haven't been to practice for a while now, the girls are pretty worried." As she spoke, she tucked a stray strand behind her ear and you squinted—trying to figure out where you'd seen her in the show.

"Oh, uh, I've just been a little sick, that's all."—seriously, who was this girl?—"I'm fine now though."

"That's great to hear!" She beamed, though her smile didn't quite seem to reach her eyes. "Listen, I'm having this party on Halloween and... I wanted you to be the first invite."

She extended one hand—flyer fit snugly between her fingertips—and you reached out, wrapping your fingers around the other end before she released it.

Eyes falling down, you took in the words written in... well, you didn't even know what font that was: TINA'S HALLOWEEN BASH. Come and get Sheet Faced.

Oh, so this was Tina.

"You'll be there, right?"

Your eyes flew back up and you were met with her intense gaze, swirling with a desperate, expectant plea you were almost saddened to see.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I'll be there."

If anyone saw the way her shoulders fell and the muscles on her face relaxed at your words, they would've assumed you took some sort of heavy anvil off her shoulders, freeing her of some sort of imaginary weight that was supposedly weighing her down.

"Thank you," she breathed out, voice practically inaudible over the air leaving her lungs.

Damn, were you that influential?—so much so that your presence would make or break a party?

"No problem?"

If you were being completely honest, you had no idea what to think of Tina—her character wasn't very explored in the show considering the fact that her role was very minor, the only thing she was really used for was the Halloween bash. But just from these few minutes with her alone, you could tell she was someone who heavily valued reputation.

"Okay, well, I should go," her voice pierced through your thoughts. "I'm thinking of inviting the new kid."

You parted your lips—about to say goodbye—when she twirled around and took off running, not even bothering to spare another glance your way.

Rude.

But as your gaze drifted down to the piece of paper in your hands once more, you found yourself uncaring of her rather unorthodox departure—too busy thinking about... something else.

"Y/N, here's your schedule."

Ah, nevermind the bash, you had your schedule now. You could finally know where you were meant to be for each period—albeit, it would take you a while to actually find the places but at least you knew what subjects you were meant to be in during the week. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Speaking of class, you were long overdue for your first period—

—and your teacher seemed to agree on that too, judging by the harsh glare situated on his face as soon as your sheepish form walked through the door. But hey, could he blame you? No, you were just trying to find your way around this stupid maze of a school.

Luckily, getting to your second class was much easier seeing as you passed it on your way to the first—but that didn't make it any less difficult to have to sit through. You were in Stranger Things—for fuck's sake!—what the hell did Newton's Third Law have to do with it?

You weren't ashamed to admit that you didn't pay attention to any of the other classes leading up to lunch—nor were you opposed to confessing the huge sigh of relief you let out once the long break period finally arrived, because—c'mon—who the hell paid attention to class when they just got transported to another world?

Not you.

So yes, you were currently happily strolling through the halls with your arms crossed over your books as you hugged said items to your chest, no sign of Steve in sight—but, you did catch a glimpse of a very familiar Lion's mane by a set of grey lockers in the corner of your eye.

"Eddie!"

Your voice must've come suddenly because he jumped as soon as you called out to him, head turning your way and one hand situating itself above his heart after he saw you. "Oh, Y/N!"

Your lips twitched up at just the sight of him. "What happened to 'sweetheart'?"

"Oh, uh, you want me to call you that? In front of all these people?"

And just like that, your lips tugged down. "Of course, why would that be a problem? Unless you're uncomfortable with it yourself—in which case, you don't have to call me by it."

Immediately, his head shook from side-to-side, messy hair bouncing crazily along with it. "No, no, not at all... sweetheart."

You'd be lying if you said that the nickname didn't garner a reaction from you; didn't result in your chest swirling with a blazing warmth.

Though, it also seemed to result in the jaw of the person stood next to him dropping to the floor; the same person you had just noticed was there in the first place. He had hair that was just as curly as Eddie's, but—unlike the male you knew—his was cut shorter, barely reaching past his ears really.

You knew this guy, he was one of Eddie's friends.

What was his name again? It started with a G. Let's see... Gavin..? No... Gary..? No...

Oh!

"Gareth right?" Relief washed through your insides when his head nodded, eyes wide and seeming to look through you, almost as if he couldn't even believe you were there, "It's so nice to meet another friend of Eddie's!"

"Another?" He seemed to have shot out of his trance at that, and it wasn't long before he gave you an incredulous look, gaze flickering over from you to Eddie, to you to Eddie, over and over again.

Then, all too suddenly, he pulled on the other male's arm and yanked him to the side—not even 3 feet of you—before resuming, "You're friends with the Queen Bee? How the hell did that happen?"

"You think I know?!"

Eddie's response was enough to garner a chuckle from you, causing both boys to quickly return their gazes to your form. Before they could comment on their fuck-up however, another voice came bellowing down the hall, calling out to you.

"Y/N!"

Unlike with Gareth before, you recognised that pretty face paired with those luscious ginger strands of hair straight away. How could you not? You had practically seen a thousand edits of them along with the 'Chrissy Wake Up' song on TikTok. Kinda hard to forget her after the Internet did its magic.

Though, it wasn't exactly unpleasant to be meeting her, and so, you gave her as bright a smile as you could muster. "Chrissy! Hey!"

"Hi!" She beamed right back at you, but unlike Tina, Chrissy's smile genuinely reached her glinting eyes, even going as far as adorably crinkling them up a little. "Tina said you were feeling fine now, do you mind coming to practice today? Only if you're okay! I know you've been sick so take as much rest as you need and don't feel pressured."

How the hell could you say no to that?

"Yeah, okay, sure! I'll come with you to practice."

You weren't sure how it was possible, but she seemed to light up even further at that, almost blinding you like the little ball of sunshine she was.

In fact, she was so distracting, you almost forgot the presence of the two boys dressed in a completely different colour pallet to you. Keyword: almost.

"Looks like that's my cue." You turned their way—if only to save your eyesight from genuinely deteriorating due to the light that was Chrissy. "It was nice meeting you, Gareth. Good to see you again, Eddie."

Just before departing, you ghosted your fingers over the covered shoulder of Eddie, wiggling them about like you had done to Steve just the day prior; a signature goodbye, if you will.

And as you walked down the halls, you picked up on one last thing coming from Gareth's mouth... one last thing that was enough to drill your feet straight into the ground.

"Eddie? Eddie, wake up!"

That phrase...

Flashes of Season 4 infiltrated your gaze; of the unfortunate victims that had their lives stripped from them; of the very girl stood next to you's body flying up, limbs distorting as they snapped irregularly, eyes not even having the pleasure of losing light with how unjustly they were gauged out from her.

Had you messed up somehow?

Had the events of Season 4 ended up being triggered too early by your mere existence?

The questions overwhelmed you—flooded through your senses and clogged up your airways with their untimely arrival. You were a puppet and they were the strings, ushering you to turn around; to rid yourself of the wool pulled over your eyes—of the blissful ignorance surrounding your form—and, helpless to their influence, you did exactly that.

Slowly, your head reared backwards—the room spinning around you—and your eyes were greeted by a welcome sight; one that breathed life back into your limbs.

Eddie stood there—eyes still very much on his face—with a familiar, light blush spread across his cheeks. Even as his form was being rapidly shook by his dear friend, he remained still, gaze trained on you. He only seemed to have snapped out of it after making proper eye-contact with you.

Two blinks. A small, shy raised hand. And a tiny wave.

False alarm. He was just flustered.

It made sense, your previous actions could be interpreted as flirting after all—and to be honest, you didn't really mind if it was (again, the Eddie Munson)—but, you'd be lying if you said he didn't just give you a bit of a scare there.

The sentence that just came out of Gareth's mouth was the very same, infamous sentence uttered by Eddie's lips just before the first death of Season 4—a rather brutal death involving the very ball of sunshine that was just tasked to retrieve you.

Speaking of that ball of sunshine—

"Y/N, you coming?"

You blinked, quickly returning Eddie's wave before whipping your head back around to face the ginger next to you once again.

You had to admit, it was very surreal coming face-to-face with people from the show who were meant to die—it felt kinda like seeing a ghost, and a part of you (just a teensy-weensy, little part) found it... well... unsettling.

But, that was just a small part.

"Yeah. Let's go."

You shook off the residual fear that lingered from that little moment before finally continuing to follow Chrissy down the hall.

The whole walk was full of her detailing you on the failed practices of the cheerleaders in your absence. Apparently, Heather tried and failed to do a cartwheel into a back-flip as part of one of the routines before dramatically throwing her pompoms to the ground and angrily muttering that you could do it instead.

You had no idea who Heather was but you wished you were there to see it.

Oh, and—with you gone—it seemed as though a lot of the girls had taken to slacking off, opting to gaze longingly at the sweaty boys that played basketball just across the Gym instead of actually being productive.

You doubted that would get any better with Billy around now.

"Well, well, well," a high-pitched voice sliced through your thoughts and you blinked, finally noticing that you arrived at the Gym. "Look who finally decided to show up."

You recognised that puffed-up, blonde hair from the first day of your arrival, the stance she took on being an almost-exact replica of the one back in the infirmary.

"Finally done punching the daylights out of some random freak in school?" She scoffed out.

"Sarah," Chrissy hissed from beside you, "don't say that. Y/N's been sick recently."

"Sick of being just as aggressive as her brother?" Sarah rolled her eyes.

Before you could retort with your own defense, however, someone else had piped in—that person being a brunette with rather short, straight hair, "You're talking like you don't wanna fuck him."

Uh—what?

"Jenny!" Your eyes flitted over to the blonde just in time to catch her reddened cheeks.

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"Whatever, let's just..."

Sarah trailed off there, jaw hanging open as her eyes seemed to land on something not within your immediate eyesight. And when you found yourself following her gaze—you located the subject of her interest, the lack of words suddenly making sense.

Golden curls you had the pleasure of seeing up close just this morning were farther now, having just barely passed through the entrance. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips as the electricity in his eyes zapped through the Gym before finally landing on you, lips edging up into what you could only call a smirk.

It wasn't long before he sauntered over, practically demanding all of the attention in the room with his walk; attention which was happily handed over to him on a sleek, silver plate.

"All this time I've been calling you princess... when you've really been a queen," as he spoke—voice as husky as ever—a teasing lilt laced into his tone, intensifying his gaze and overwhelming you with his suffocating presence. "Why didn't you say anything, dollface?"

Breathe, Y/N, breathe. Stand your ground.

You tried to, you really did—but, the only way you'd be able to keep your composure right now was by closing your eyes and pretending you didn't see him—

—so you did exactly that.

Your lashes fluttered shut and you envisioned a blank sea of darkness before uttering out a response, "Didn't think it was important."

"Yeah?" Now, while you might not have been able to see him, you could still very well hear him, and his voice was nothing short of the perfect mixture between smooth and rough and—

Stop. It.

For your own sake—and for fear of further falling apart—you chose not to say anything and only nodded.

That was a mistake.

Instant regret hit you square in the face when you felt the gentle touch of a few, rough fingers against your chin, tilting your head just enough to rest at an angle before a surge of warm air tickled your lashes.

And as he spoke—lips almost grazing your closed lids—those familiar flying pests made their home in your stomach, "Where'd those pretty eyes of yours go? Didn't seem to stop wanting to use them this morning."

Damn him and his smoothness.

In an effort to continue to save face, you resorted to squeezing your eyes even further shut—paying no mind to the blissful warmth slowly coating your form or the teasing snickers that left the bad boy's mouth; snickers which you could practically feel the vibrations of.

"What's the matter? Have I rendered Miss Queen Bee speechless?"

Your vision was dark but you could still see the smug smirk on his face. Just wait until you gathered yourself, you were gonna make him ten times more flustered than you—just wait.

The light clearing of a throat suddenly served as a reminder that you two weren't the only ones in the room and you found yourself feeling a little... cold when Billy pulled away.

Cold? Ugh, once again, damn him and his smoothness.

Finally deeming it safe to do so, you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light once more before you were finally able to make out the slowly-shrinking figure of Billy Hargrove. But just as he reached the entrance of the Gym once more, he paused, one hand firmly gripping onto the frame as he called out to you over his shoulder.

"Keep your bed nice and warm for me, will ya, dollface?"

Your jaw dropped.

Someone else then said something along the lines of 'oh my god' but—if you were being honest—you were barely able to hear it over the echo of Billy's snickers as he walked away, completely amused by your reaction no doubt.

He was so unequivocally bold, you almost couldn't believe it.

"Uh, guys, I think I'm gonna take a raincheck on practice today." But, it seemed as though the other girls definitely could—judging by how the very girl who said this rushed right after Billy.

"Me too!"

"Yeah, uh, I think I'm feeling a little sick."

"Well, I, for one, am chasing up that boy."

"Not if I get him first!"

And as a majority of them rushed after the handsome male, you found yourself deadpanning.

"Bruh."

You definitely couldn't blame them though, the rest of your day was spent recalling all those scenes with him after all. Even Steve noticed your absent-mindedness in the last period of the day—trying several outlandish things to grab your attention that he only informed you of once the lesson was over.

You didn't even notice him waving his arms wildly in front of your face while the teacher's back was turned.

And even as you walked beside him, Nancy strutting ahead of the two of you after you'd picked her up from class, you still had your head roaming around in the clouds.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You hummed, half-listening, half-not.

Steve then leaned further your way, shoulder brushing your own as he whispered against your ear. "Wish me good luck?"

You blinked up at him, having paid enough attention to scrunch up your nose in confusion and ask, "Good luck for what?"

"The dinner. At Barb's?"

A few more blinks.

And then—

"Ohhhhh."

Nancy turned around at that, and Steve was quick to hush you. He only resumed talking when she faced forward once more—albeit, slower than she turned around.

"What are you doing? Trying to get me in trouble?!" His whisper came out harsh, and you winced a little.

"Alright, alright, gheez."

His attitude seemed to be at an all-time high because he rolled his eyes after that. "I just... don't get why I have to go to this stupid dinner anyway."

"Steve." It was your turn to harshly whisper. "Don't say that. Nancy needs closure, this dinner is exactly that."

You felt for Steve just a tad bit, it wasn't his best friend that died after all (thank god for that) but that didn't mean he got to complain about attending a dinner his girlfriend wanted him to be at because he was there the night of the first attack; of the first murder.

See, Barbara (or Barb) had been Nancy's best friend—the two being practically attached by the hip—so of course the night she died would be one that Nancy deeply regretted, and of course she would want closure with the parents of her best friend. It just made sense.

In fact, the whole reason why she did any of what she did in Season 2 was so that she could inform Barb's parents (who still thought their child was out there somewhere) that their kid was, in fact, dead.

"Y/N, you there?"

Caught in a monologue? Seriously, Y/N? What are you, the main character?

"Yeah, I'm here."

Seeing as you were already outside and stood right by Steve's car—you slotted your hand between the cold of both the handle and the door before pulling it open, leaping straight in, and causing the whole vehicle to jerk in a symphony of loud clangs from sheer force.

"Hey! Careful!" It seemed like your music wasn't appreciated by Steve though.

"Relax. It's not like I broke it or anything—" feeling like messing with him—because duh—a smirk slowly twitched onto your lips, "—besides, it's excited to see me, aren't you, girl?"

Steve let out another hiss when you patted the seat a little too harshly—sounding akin to a pissed off feline which just made him seem less menacing and more adorable.

Ha, you tried, Steve, you tried.

The click of the passenger door drew your eyes over to Nancy's form, watching as her legs entered one at a time before she took a seat and turned your way—"We're dropping you off then heading straight over to Barb's."—then, turning to Steve, "Right, Steve?"

You could already hear the grumbled out 'yes' coming from him and you only sent him a grin seeping with amusement when he met your gaze through the rear-view mirror—your lips stretching further as he mouthed the words 'help me' with anguish in his eyes.

"You two have fun, yeah?"

You said the sentence to piss Steve off even further but when you caught a glimpse of the look on Nance's face, a pang shot straight through your chest.

Her eyes had this far-away look about them as her lips curved up by a very small amount—though there was no joy in it, only grief.

"Hey..." you placed one hand on the shoulder of her seat, using it to pull yourself forward as you furrowed your brows, worry clouding your gaze. "You alright?"

She sniffled a little before waving her hand and nodding in response. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

Your lips tugged down and you shared a look with your best friend before he started the engine, breathing life into the vehicle as you slowly lowered your body back down onto the leather seat.

She wasn't fine; even without knowledge from the show, you could tell. She might not have been crying but her lip was definitely quivering a little and her eyes... well, they just weren't all... present in the moment.

But, she would be fine. And that was enough.

Besides, though it was cold to say, you had bigger things to worry about. Nancy would get help from Jonathan in order to come to terms with Barb's death—meanwhile, you had no one to help you out with all the spare knowledge you stored in your brain; with all the premonitions (if you could call it that) you were blessed with.

Perhaps it was time you started preparing for another bout with the demodogs—you were Steve's best friend, after all; that probably meant you'd most likely end up facing the dogs together with him later on in the Season.

"Y/N."

You perked up at the call of your name, shaking away the thoughts clinging to your brain.

"We're here."

Lo and behold, so it seemed you were, the familiar sidewalk leading up to your house being visible through the clear glass panes beside you.

Clicking open the door, you took one step out before swinging the rest of your body to follow after, and once you closed the door again, you walked over to the passenger-side window—shoes barely making a sound against the ground—before your knees bent down a little and you tapped lightly against the glass.

"Let the Hollands know I wish them the best, okay?" You offered a gentle smile to the girl sat before you, and she tried her best to muster one up in return.

"Okay..."

"See you guys."

And with a brief wave, you quickly spun around and headed towards the relatively-normal house.

You now—thankfully—had keys of your own so there was no need to knock or anything. Well—it was more like you had them all this time but didn't know where they were and just so happened to find them the other day but—details, details.

After fiddling with the keys a little, you heard a 'click!' and pushed against the handle before entering, one hand moving behind you to carefully shut the door.

"I'm home."

Curt's voice was the first to greet you—albeit, not very genuinely. "Congratulations, want a trophy?"

Uh, yes, actually. You would very much like a trophy after coming back home in one piece in the world of Stranger Things.

"We're having pasta tonight!" Luckily, Cain's words were a lot more welcoming than the other brother.

So, as was your right, you ignored your second oldest brother in favour of responding to the first. "Ooh! Pasta?!"

You had to admit, his cooking the other night was rather good—okay, it was magnificent, you just didn't wanna admit it because you stormed off the other day before being able to properly finish it.

But now that you could—

Before you could finish that train of thought, three loud knocks resounded through the room, no doubt coming from the door behind you.

Huh.

Was that Steve? Did he forget to say something?

You lightly wrapped your palm around the handle, turning it slowly before the door was open once more, a sudden, light breeze hitting you square in the face—

—though, the breeze could never be more sudden than who you saw at the door.

It wasn't your swooshy-haired companion to greet you on the other side—no—but rather, an older woman with barely visible bags underneath her drooping eyes; eyes which seemed to have lost all light, almost appearing chillingly lifeless—

—well, that was until they lit up at the sight of you.

"Oh, Y/N! Baby! I've missed you so much!"

And as she threw herself onto your form—arms engulfing you wholly, emotionally—you found yourself blanking out for once, only one thought popping up in your head:

What. The. Fuck.

@bdudette, @tanyaherondale, @killerqueenfan, @l3xiluve, @thedoubleexposurephotography, @xxqueenofdemonsxx, @briarsheart, @nickey-diano, @uselessbutinteresting, @steeldaisies, @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom, @patheticreative, @majestichugs, @eddiesbitch83, @secretdryrose, @bloodywickedvamp, @charlizekkelly

Did Billy give you guys butterflies or what? 😏 (Srsly tho, I need to know if I'm writing him well—)

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l0serloki · 1 year

Text

Before Bed

Sleeping Headcanons with Genshin Characters

(Childe, Diluc, Itto, Jean, Kazuha, Zhongli)

CW : Insomnia (Kazuha), OCD mention (Jean)

A/N : @butterflybboy gave me the lovely idea for these - thanks my slay queen girl boss

Childe :

“Babe, are you asleep? Oh shit, sorry” (he wakes you up every night, he says its on accident but its def not, he wants attention)

He’s the type of guy to starfish the bed

“Well, you can just lay on top of me”

Places light kisses on your neck before drifting off to sleep

He has to wake up early for work but he will give you a quick kiss on the head and a ‘sleep well, baby’

You felt Childe’s hands shake you, a groan leaving your mouth. He did this every night if you were asleep. You loved the man but his need for attention was on a whole other level. “Were you asleep? Sorry, baby..” His voice trailed off as he pulled you into his side. You could only roll your eyes at his fake apology, arms wrapping around him. “Yeah, I bet you’re so sorry. Love you, AJ.” You could feel his chest hum, his lips meeting yours for a quick kiss. “Love you too, Y/N. Sweet dreams.”

Diluc :

This man does not like covers (his body temperature is too hot)

He will complain about the blankets and try to convince you that he is the only one you need

Holds you in his arms all night, big spoon king

If he has to leave to go take care of darknight duties he leaves a sweet note for you to find

You could feel the bed dip, waking you up. In your drowsy state you noticed Diluc sit on the bed, his arms dragging you on top of him. “Hello my love, I am sorry for waking you. I just got off duty. Go back to sleep.” Diluc’s soft lips danced across your face as your eyes drooped. He was always so loving.

Itto :

Itto touches the bed and he is out cold

He snores too but if you tell him he won't believe you

“Snoring is for old people, I wouldn’t do that. You callin’ me old, lil bug?”

He loves you laying on his chest, hand holding onto your head

Could sleep for a million hours if you don’t wake him up (he gets clingy if you do wake him up)

“C'mon Itto, let’s go to sleep!” You called out to him, his footsteps stomping down the hall. His dopey smile gleamed as he began to run full speed towards you. You braced for impact as the bed jumped, his body now beside you. “Whatever you say! We do have a big day of onikabuto battles tomorrow.” His big arms pulled you flush against his chest, his nose digging into your scalp. “Sleep well, little bug.”

Jean :

I feel like she has major OCD

Girl needs to have her nightly skin routine and shower, which she gladly asks you to join

She has tons of pillows and blankets on the bed, super comfy cuddle time

“Y/N come to bed! I can’t sleep without you”

She loves to always have a hand on you, it reminds her that you're safe

“Y/N, can you grab me some water? I’m finishing up my skin stuff.” Jean’s voice called out from the bathroom. You grabbed a glass and brought it to her, arms wrapping around her waist. “You almost done, pretty girl?” You smiled as her face turned red, eyes looking away. “Yeah.. Go wait in bed. I’ll be there in just a sec.” You kissed her cheek, walking to get the bed ready.

The blankets and pillows were adjusted, Jean’s head leaning into your shoulder. Her lips delicately traced the skin of your shoulder, soothing you to sleep. You could hear her faint voice murmur, “Sleep well honey. I’ll make us some breakfast in the morning.”

Kazuha :

He has some bad insomnia but tries his best

He will hold you in his arms and hum some songs if you can’t sleep

If neither of you can sleep then he takes you outside to show you the stars

“The sky is infinite - just like my love for you.” (please smack his shoulder, he can't keep getting away with this amount of cheese)

If it’s a good night then the two of you are cuddled next to each other holding hands, peacefully sleeping

Kazuha always had a sleeping issue. He never made a big deal about it but you wished to help him. You had tried all the remedies you could to no avail. That was until the two of you went out one night.

“Come with me, my feather. I want to show you the stars.” Kazuha’s warm grip led you to the backyard, a blanket laid out on the grass. The two of you stared up at the night sky, his breath fanning against your cheek as he turned. “You shine brighter than any of the stars. I love you.” Kazuha’s voice fell into a hush as his eyelids drooped. You kissed his forehead, heart swelling at the adorable sight. “I love you too, Zuzu. Get some rest.”

Zhongli :

He’s the type of guy to make a sleep time tea and read before bed

“Y/N this book you got me is splendid. What a good find. Come, I’ll read to you.”

Zhongli reads both of you to sleep, an arm curled around your torso

He sleeps like a rock and doesn’t move, you almost thought he was dead one time

He wakes you up at the same time every morning, he says schedule is everything

“Good morning my angel, the birds are chirping! Time for yet another wonderful day” (thank you gramps)

Zhongli’s slim fingers turned the page, his voice continuing to read on. You could feel sleep tug at you, threatening to send you under. “Go to bed, honey. We have an early morning. We will finish the story tomorrow.” His hand rubbed circles into your flesh, lulling you into dreamland.

“Good morning, my dove! The sun is awake and so are we! Come, get up - I made breakfast!” Zhongli lightly tapped you, lips feathering you in sweet kisses.

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ihavethedreamies · 3 months

Text

Clingy | Chenle

Zhong Chenle - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.6k

Pairing: Chenle x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Established Relationship

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Slight Age Difference (Like 2 years), He calls the reader Noona, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! She has an IUD), First Time

Author's Note: I cannot begin to express how much I love a Lele, and for so long he was my precious baby boy but then he got, like, really hot, so here, have this.

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other two sites. Happy reading!

"Noona!" You heard him call out to you. You always did, he is quite loud. However, you already knew it was him because you heard him key in the code to your door and the following beep when it unlocked. You were busy cleaning the bathroom, night was the best time to clean. Being a night owl, you had more energy and then you could go straight to bed when you subsequently exhausted yourself from cleaning. Ringing out the magic sponge you were using, you dried your hands on a towel and went down the hall to find him in the living room.

"You're here!" You smiled and he hadn't even taken his mask off yet and was still in his coat. Since he didn't live at the dorm anyway, he would come straight to your place instead of going right home. He practically lived with you at this point.

"You tired, precious?" You asked and he nodded, whining a yes. He then lifted his arms like a child wanting to be picked up, so you go stand in front of him. The low height of the couch let him lean forward for a hug, he rested his head on your stomach. Preferring to either be fully clothed or not, you were still in your day clothes. That way, when you got all sweaty you could just take a shower, put on your PJs (a tank and panties), and go to bed. While your day clothes were a sweatshirt and jeans, still comfy, Chenle always wondered why you didn't change right away upon getting home. You told him you lost all motivation to do anything productive the minute you changed clothes, so you just didn't. You even still had your shoes on, a big no-no in Korea, but your feet hurt running around cleaning without them on. Plus, it was your apartment so you could do whatever you wanted! In reality you had sneakers you only wore at home to clean, but most people still thought it was at the least weird and at the most, offensive.

Just when you thought he was going to fall asleep like that, he pulled away to look up at you like a puppy. Reaching up you pull the strings of his mask off his ears and take the black accessory off. Letting it fall next to him on the couch, you smiled upon seeing his cute face. That sweet smile he only showed you stretched across his face, and you cooed.

"You're so stinking cute." you complimented him, and he giggled.

"Are you hungry?"

"Starving. I'm so hungry Noona." He whined and you grabbed him by the collar as he moved to flop onto the couch.

"Take your coat off first." You nagged and drug him back to sitting up and get the parka off, then let him flop back onto the cushions. Grabbing the remote from the side table, you turned the TV on and then handed him the device.

"What do you want to eat?"

You. He thought to himself but didn't say it. He was feeling extra needy but wasn't sure how to approach you about it. You had done plenty for him in the past, but that was it. He wasn't pushy, but he wanted to treat you good too. If you weren't ready to go all the way, that was fine…

"You have the ramen I like still?" He finally called out as you entered the kitchen after hanging his coat.

"Yes. Is that really all you want?" You asked, willing to make him something else.

"Yeah." You shrugged to yourself and got to work on it. He really just wanted something fast so you could be done and cuddle him. You ate pretty consistently at the same time when you were at home and had thus eaten a few hours before. As you made his supper, you snacked on some grapes. You had to be careful with how many you ate, fruit was more expensive in Korea than where you were from, so you tried to limit yourself to make it last longer. Once it was done, you went back to the living room to set the table back down you had rested against the wall to clean the floor. He was draped over the couch, one arm dangling off the side and the opposite leg resting on the back of the couch. You huffed a laugh and went back to retrieve the ramen pot. Putting a hot pad down, you then set down the pot and handed him the chopsticks. Going to clean up, he whined out, "where are you going?"

"I have to clean up, it'll take a sec I just have to throw somethings out." You promised and made sure to discard the wrappers and made sure no seasoning powder was on the counter. He whined again when you didn't come straight in, going around the apartment to shut off lights you left on. Once that was all done you finally went to sit with him.

"No, behind me." He scooched forward when you tried to sit at the table with him and tilting your head curiously you do as he requested. Immediately, once you were down, he scooted back and dragged the table with him, placing himself between your legs. You smiled as his head tilted to rest on your left leg and you pet his hair as he did that. He had already managed to eat more than half of the noodles by then and he only continued when you prompted. He wanted to cuddle more than eat but he wasn't going to put your effort to waste. Chenle knew you enjoyed cooking, especially for other people, but he wanted something fast so he could have you sooner. When he was done, you tried to get up to clean up and he gave you a stern, "no," then did it himself. It wasn't that he wasn't helpful, but he got up so quickly. You lowkey didn't trust him to clean it right, you were just that way with everyone, but he knew you pretty well. You were very particular about washing the bottom of the pot just as well as the rest of it and you even used a specific soap for the pots and pans, different than everything else. When Chenle came back in, he went to the lamp and turned it on so he could shut off the bright overhead light. As he came back to the couch to join you, you stood up.

"I'm going to shower so I can change." You told him, not having cleaned everything yet but you could tell he wanted to be with you.

"Wait." He grabbed your hand and pulled you back to him. When you didn't catch his hint, he pulled you again. You landed on his lap with a yelp, and he further manhandled you till you straddled him.

"Lele?" You were slightly shocked by your boyfriend’s forwardness. It didn't bother you, not at all, but it was still surprising. Neither of you could really be considered dominant in the relationship, so to see him being a bit more forceful was…hot. Wrapping his arms around you, you relaxed further onto his lap, and he rested his head on your chest.

"This better?" You smiled, hugging him back and kissing the top of his head.

"Could be even better…" He mumbled and you furrowed your brow. Before you could ask for clarification, he pulled back to look at you. Suddenly, he spread his legs and you fell between them onto your butt with an, "oof." Your legs were still over his so the position was slightly uncomfortable but now you were eye level. Then, your boyfriend was just staring at you intently, looking at each part of your face.

"W-what?"

"You're just pretty." His face softened into a smile, and you scoffed.

"Okay." You conceded and he sneered.

"You are!"

"Okay!" You aren't convinced. Partially, you think there is something else going on too, but…You weren't self-deprecating, you didn't think you were ugly, just average. Nothing to write home about.

"You don't think so?" He pouted and you shrugged.

"Noona!"

"What?"

"You’re so pretty. To me, you are the prettiest girl, that's all that should matter. You're my pretty girl!" He insisted and he wasn't whining or pouting, he sounded a little upset. Like, angry upset. It took you aback. After the shock melted from your face, you smiled genuinely and brought your hands up to stroke his cheeks.

"Thank you, Lele. I can be your pretty girl." You gave him a small kiss and it flared something in him. It wasn't enough. When you pulled back, his arms wrapped around you, and he slammed his mouth back to yours. You gasped at his forcefulness as his hand rested on your back between your shoulders. His other hand went to your butt so he could readjust you on his lap. Back to a more comfortable position, you sighed, and he took advantage of this, his tongue invading your mouth. The hand on your back stayed there, the other one going to the hem of your sweatshirt and slipped under it. He grunted in annoyance pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting you.

"I hate that you wear these high-waisted jeans." He grumbled and you're gaping, face growing hot.

"A-are you okay?" You asked him and he flinched, giving you a wide-eyed stare. He could tell from your tone you were genuinely worried. He was never that forward. Did he take it too far too fast?

"J-just…want you." His voice was quiet, and he buried his face into the nook of your neck, and you relaxed.

"Hmm, I see. You want some help?" You rested your cheek on his head, reaching for the zipper of his pants.

"No! You always do that for me. Want to help my pretty girl." He whined grabbing your wrist quick to stop your hand. You rested back further on his lap and he's looking down to where he grabbed your wrist. Relaxing the grip, he took both your hands in his and stroked the back of your right with his thumb.

"Why do you gotta say it like that?" You huffed, embarrassed.

"Let me show you."

"Show me what?"

"How pretty I think you are. You always take care of me, let me take care of you." He hadn’t whispered per se, but his voice was soft as he leaned back to you, placing a soft kiss on your mouth.

"I-I…"

"If you're not okay with-"

"No! It's just…I don't mind doing stuff for you, I like that I make you feel good, it makes me feel good." You shrugged, not able to look him in the eye. Chenle didn’t say anything, but shifted a bit and before you could get up, your world spun and you're on your back underneath him. Not having any idea, he was that strong, to just toss you like that, you found it incredibly attractive. Once again, you are shocked, seeing how he was looking at you. His gaze is intense, his pupils dilated. His knee wedged between your legs and your breath hitched when his thigh dug in over your covered mound. He held himself up with his left arm, using his right hand to go under your sweatshirt once again, but it didn't go past the top of your pants. Instead, it went lower, his fingers digging into your butt, his elbow bent to lower him back down to you; he kissed you again. He was more aggressive than before. The hand on your ass let him force you to grind on his thigh and you gave him a soft moan, letting him swallow it as his tongue reentered your mouth. It was turning you on way more than was logical. You had made out before, sure, but not like that. When you were about to tap out to breathe, he pulled back and your hands went to rest on his biceps as you caught your breath. His leg grinded against your core and couldn't help but let a sigh out. You knew that just riding his thigh would have been enough, but that would be something to try later. Even though he said he was okay waiting, you suddenly weren't.

"You okay to keep going?" He asked, and you whined out a yes; then he's off you, hauling you up by the arm and practically dragging you to your room. He flipped the light on, the bright ceiling lamp too harsh for the mood. He tapped the light bar behind your computer till it gave off a soft yellow glow so you can turn off the overhead. Gently, he brought you to sit on the bed and he kneeled on the floor in front of you, untying your shoes to take them off. You wanted to protest but when you opened your mouth to, he shot you a look that shut you up. He set your sneakers under your desk and took off your socks, throwing them into the corner vaguely near your laundry basket. He sat up straighter on his knees, kneeling between yours and looked up at you.

"I love you." He whispered, his lips brushing over yours. Your breath hitched and your throat clenched. While you knew how he felt and how you yourself did, it hadn't been said out loud yet.

"I love you too-" His hand shot out, burying in your hair at the back of your head and hauled you into another kiss. Moving to kneel at full height, once again you were eye level, and his hands went back to your sweatshirt. You let him take it off of you, reluctant to break the kiss to get it all the way off. You felt super sexy in your nude plain bra, but also kind of embarrassed. Yes, he had seen you in a swimsuit before, but it was one piece and, well, not your underwear.

"You okay?" He asked and you nodded.

"Y-yes. I just…have never…"

"You haven't?" He was genuinely surprised. He figured with how much you knew and what you even knew about yourself that you had experience.

"I-I've used toys, but I have never been with a guy before. I have done research and read too many fanfictions, so I know myself well…" You shrugged again and the news brought the whole night into a different realm.

"I haven't either." He admitted, but you really already knew. Being an idol there wasn't much time for dating and the only reason you two were going so strong was because you worked for the company and so your schedules didn't conflict. You still got to see each other a lot and you even traveled with him.

"Tell me what to do, what to know. Where are you sensitive, what do you like?" His hand rested on your waist under your bra, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb. As he requested, he leaned back into you, his mouth hovering over your neck. Placing a kiss there, he smiled at the little shiver you let out and he saw goosebumps form on your arms.

"I-I don't get much from my breasts, never have…" You started. Maybe it would be different if he did something, but you never got anything out of it.

"What else?" He was still kissing your neck, just lightly.

"The lighter touches just tickle, if you do it…harder, it will be better." You weren't sure how else to word it. He hummed and went right into it, sucking over your pulse point and you moaned lightly, his teeth brushing over your skin.

"T-try behind my ear." You added and his nose brushed the spot till you turned your head so he could kiss there. You sighed so he knew he did it right. Moving down again, his nose bumped your earring and ran over your throat.

"There-" Your breath hitched, already knowing that was a sensitive spot. To the extent that you suspected though had not yet been tested. Breath play isn't the best thing to do alone or for a first time. Just a slight bit of pressure was enough though because his rough open-mouth kiss to your throat made your hips jump. This shocked both of you, but he didn't react to it outwardly.

"M-My stomach is really sensitive." You continued and at that prompt, he started to undo the button of your jeans so he could access that part of you. Chenle didn't try and take them off, just undid them and pulled the hem down so your belly button is revealed. Even just the brush of his slightly cold fingers on the warm skin of your tummy made you shiver.

"Even just in general, its sensitive, so with…sexual stuff it really is. I get ticklish easier, things hurt easier, I feel temperature easier-" You kind of rambled on, getting more worked up with nerves and excitement. He hummed again and you grew suspicious, knowing he was planning something mischievous based off his tone. He pulled away from your neck and he shoved you, your back hitting the bed and you huffed. Digging his fingers into the waist of your pants, he hauled you closer and smirked before licking a hot path around your belly button and up to your sternum. The sensation almost knocked the wind out of you, and you were pretty sure your panties got ruined right then. The little imp chuckled at your reaction, watching you throw your head back and your fingers dug into his shirt at the shoulders.

"Oh, uh, do you…we need a condom?" He suddenly realized and you shook your head.

"I have an IUD, remember?"

"Uh, right…what- what is that again?"

"It's like a thing they put inside. It helps my really bad cramps, but it’s really a birth control." You explained and he remembered.

"The thing that looks like a T." He drew the letter in the air.

"Yes!" The conversation was much too casual for what had just happened, but his face once again got intense.

"So, I can just cum inside?" He whispered and there was something about how he said it that made your core clench around nothing. The idea obviously turned him on, and you made a note to delve into that later. Once again, he gave you no time to retort and his fingers reburied into your jeans and he pulled them down over your butt, the force making your hips jump up, so you didn't have to. In one more pull, they were off and flying somewhere across the room. It was like time slowed down as you moved to close your legs and cover yourself (you still had underwear on), but he noticed the dark patch on your pink panties. Time sped back up and fast-forwarded till your legs were abruptly held open, then spread, by his hands landing on your inner thighs. You yelped and were again shocked at his strength that he so easily prevented you from moving.

"C-Chenle!"

"You're so wet already." His breath was hot, your thighs twitched as you felt it on your skin.

"I-" You cleared your throat, "I get like that easily…Even with toys I never need lube…" You were a little shy to admit. He knew about your vibrators, having found them when he snooped through your drawers. He had gotten permission before you realized that it was in your nightstand and not hidden under your pillows like usual. You had two in a bag along with the cleaner and their chargers. You had to change the location you kept it after that, not trust him to to keep his mouth shut around the other boys. That was before you two had started dating.

He tossed you a look from between your legs and wondered just how wet you could get. Another smirk spread over his stupidly attractive face, and he stood back up. His hands came to the hem of his own shirt and you watched intently as he took the baggy t-shirt off. He was a skinny thing for sure, but he had more muscle tone than you really, truly realized. As your eyes roamed the expanse of smooth skin just revealed, he took his belt off; his pants immediately fell lower on his hips. His tiny little waist made pants fit weirdly because of his leg length and so a belt was almost always necessary. The waistband of his briefs was revealed from his jeans falling and he turned smug fast. While he wanted to tease you for ogling him, he decided not to and unbuttoned his pants; they fell. Even though you had seen his cock before, buried it in your throat, seeing him before you like that was different. Before you could really appreciate it though, he was back on his knees. His fingers ran over the wet patch of your underwear and your head reeled. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around your thighs and buried his face into your covered pussy, licking through the fabric, soaking it further. You slammed your palm over your mouth to muffle the near scream you let out. It was one thing to touch yourself or use a vibrator, but having him lick you? Holy crap. Chenle had even done it over your underwear, you weren't sure you could take it bare.

"W-wait, if you do that I need to shower!" You insisted and he scoffed. You shower every night, and he really didn't care about the very slight sweat you worked up cleaning. You always smelled amazing. But you smelled so much better from your arousal than he even anticipated. Even through the fabric of your panties, you tasted amazing too.

"I'm about to make you sweat even more so what's the point?" His shameless declaration flabbergasted you. Your boyfriend ignored your protests and pulled your underwear off so fast you were worried he ripped it. You sat up quickly to look at the the discarded fabric and when you did, he reached around and unhooked your bra. He did it so easily it scared you a bit. Once that was off and you were completely naked, the embarrassment hit you.

"So pretty." He hummed, kissing you. You whined and then he let your mouth go, shoving you gently so you laid back down. His hands spread your legs back open, and your hips jumped hard when his tongue ran from the right above your slit to the bottom of your belly button. At this, his arm wrapped around your right leg, throwing it over his shoulder, and his forearm rested against your hips, holding you down. You were already embarrassingly close to cumming and didn’t know how. So much pent-up tension had hit you like a freight train it seemed.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for your answer however and his tongue buried into you. You gasped so hard you couldn't breathe for a second as the tip swirled your entrance than ran up to flick your clit. You came. He was a bit surprised when he felt your body tense like that, your head slamming back into the mattress, and you keened out a long whine. When the waves stopped you were even wetter than before, and he wanted to get more of your taste so bad. While the orgasm was strong, it hadn't taken much physical effort, so you weren't out of breath, but your legs were shaking a bit. When he noticed, he placed your other leg over his shoulder as well and dove back in. You weren't sure how he got so good at this, and maybe he really wasn't but you were just as inexperienced. The sensation was strange, and you wondered if you sucking him off felt anywhere as good as this. As he ate you out his nose bumped your still sensitive clit. Chenle used his thumbs to spread you out for him and you whined in embarrassment.

"So pretty." He murmured then shoved his tongue as far into you as he could, and it took your breath away. Your next orgasm was coming on fast, and you couldn't get enough air (or brain power) to warn him. With one more kitten lick to your clit, you fell apart again. Right as he was going to dive back in, you waved your hand to get his attention.

"I-I'll be too sensitive for a bit. Use…use your fingers." You told him when you were able to catch your breath and your legs stopped shaking. He was surprised and also proud of himself at that, and he noticed you were even more soaked.

"You're twitching." His voice was rougher than usual, and your eyes rolled back when he traced your hole with his finger.

"P-please." You begged, needing to be filled. Plus, you were used to a toy, but you were not prepared for his cock. As his finger entered you, you slammed your hand over your mouth to cover the moan. Using your own fingers never did much, they were short and not very thick, but even just one of his felt so good. Was it because it was him or your hand kink though? Who knew?

"Fuck, you're tight, sucking me in." He chuckled wiggling the digit.

"C-curl it up." You showed him with his own finger and did what you asked, feeling a rougher patch on the top of your walls.

"There?" He asked when he pressed on it specifically.

"Yes!" You gasped, he could get the right angle you never could, and he pressed it again, rubbing over it as your own fingers dug into the sheets.

"Can I add one?" He asked you moaned a general consenting note, and he did so.

"Oh, god-" You gasped, and he went to town. He loved the way every movement his fingers made caused you to twitch, your core clenching tight. Angling his hand different, he hit something at the end of your cunt and pressed it. Your breath hitched and he furrowed his brow.

"Cervix." You breathed out and he let out an 'oh'. As he fingered you, starting to thrust them some he smirked evilly, and his tongue brushed your clit and this time he could feel your cunt clench around his fingers as you came. He kept going for you to ride it out till you yiped when it got too sensitive. He pulled his fingers out and his face away, standing. Not able to meet his eyes, you held your hand over your mouth, looking away. Shooting a brief glance at him, you gasped in horror at what he showed you. His hand was soaked in your thick juices, and he looked at it in fascination. Meeting your eyes, he brings his fingers to his mouth to clean them off.

"You are going to kill me." You whispered and he laughed loudly at that.

"Can you keep going?" He asked and while you wouldn't mind just taking care of his little problem then going to bed, you needed him inside you now. You knew from your own experience you could hit a point of overstimulation where the pain burned into pleasure, and you could keep going. If he did the cardio part you could manage…probably.

"Yes, just you need to do more of the work." You told him and he nodded with a smile. You weren't out of shape, but he had way more stamina than you in every way.

Spread over the bed just catching your breath, he slipped his arms around you and helped you get higher up on the bed. When he crawled over you, you could only really make out his face from the dull light near your desk. His mouth pressed to yours instantly turning into a tongue war. Your hands met his on the waist band of his underwear and he shed the garment. Not only was he thicker than the toy, he would probably also go quite a bit deeper. Maybe once you were more used to it, he could take you from behind, but your cervix wasn't ready to get bruised.

"Tell me if it hurts too much, okay?" He whispered into your ear, and you nodded, resting a hand on the nape of his neck, and burying the other in his hair. His knee knocked your legs further apart and his hands guided your hips up and he shoved a stray pillow under. When the head of his cock hit your entrance the nervousness and excitement you felt peaked, and you focused on breathing, so you didn't clench around him too tight. It was his first time too and you both weren't sure how long he would last. Chenle let out a small gasp and moan as he started to sink his cock into your pussy and the burn got deeper as he did, making your vision swim. It hurt, sure, but it felt so good too.

"(Y/N), you feel so good." His head was thrown back as he tried to be slow, getting deeper into you inch by inch. Your walls were even tighter around his cock than his fingers, and so hot and so wet. When he finally stopped, filling you completely, you gasped for air. You thought in this position he wouldn't get as deep as he did, and you were in for quite a ride. You knew what he could do already, watching him dance, his hips were strong. His eyes were closed in concentration, eyebrows furrowed, trying not to move.

"S-sorry, just give me- a…a sec." You took steadying breaths, trying not to clench around him.

"I thought your mouth felt good." He groaned in your ear, resting his forehead on your shoulder, stroking your waist with his thumb. Remembering what you told him, he moved his hand from your thigh to your stomach and rubbed the skin under your belly button. You shivered, trying to not let your core clench around his cock too much.

"O-okay, move. Slow. Shallow." You informed him and he shifted to get into a more comfortable position then followed your instructions. He pulled back, not even a full inch, then thrusted slowly back in. A rough whine left your lips and he had to bury his fingers into the sheets to hold back. Chenle gave another shallow thrust, but just a bit faster. The head of his cock hit your cervix already and just that fact was arousing. As he kept making shallow thrusts, the burn sizzled away, and the pleasure washed over you like the tide on a beach. It grew stronger with each thrust, and you couldn't keep your walls from clenching around him. His dick was so much hotter and bigger than your toys, and you could feel his pulse through it.

"I-I need to move more." He warned you and you unwrapped your arms from around his shoulders, gripping the bedding above your head and nodded that he could continue.

"Do what you want, precious." You told him and Chenle groaned, hiking your legs up over and around his waist. His hips snapped, pulling out nearly all the way before slamming back in fully. Your breath left you; you nearly gave yourself whiplash with how hard you threw your head back.

"Fuck, (Y/N), you feel so good." He moaned through his grunts. He definitely learned how to move his hips from dancing and every time he buried his cock into your cunt his pelvis hit your sensitive clit. Black and white spots dotted your vision. Leaning over you, he pulled you into his arms, holding you so close his stomach met yours. When you gasped, and your wet cunt squeezed him tighter than before, he knew that it was the right thing to do. His stomach was pretty hard, with soft skin, the fine defining lines rubbing over your smooth tummy was almost too much. Chenle's thrusts got shallower but no less hard, even starting to lose rhythm.

"Noona, I'm close. I can come inside, right?" He moaned into your ear, his nose brushing at your throat.

"Please." You groaned and angled your hips up a bit more and fucked into you three more times before you felt his hot cum spray against your walls and into your protected womb. It was so hot, and the sensation knocked you over the edge once more and your even tighter passage helped him ride out his orgasm. When both of you were done, you felt like passing out, you were so tired. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you and out. You slipped in and out full awareness, but you felt him get off the bed and then come back. He had gotten a warm washcloth and helped clean you both off before he put his underwear back on and grabbed a pair of yours as well as a tank top. Sleepily, you let him help you get dressed and he shut the desk light off before joining you in bed and you immediately curled into him.

"Should you let your mom know you are staying the night here?" You mumbled and he groaned in realization. Your boyfriend ripped himself from you and went to get his phone. As you drifted to sleep you heard him at the door talking to his mother on the phone.

"Yeah, I ate. I'll come tomorrow afternoon. Huh? Yeah, I told her. She loves me too."

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

Don't Speak 26

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Enjoy the fucked uppery.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

When Andy stirs, you feel relief wash over you. He rolls away, slowly dragging his hand across your stomach. You quickly shield yourself with your arm as he stretches, making the bed feel even smaller. You push yourself up cautiously as he yawns, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Mm, dove,” he murmurs groggily, “morning.”

He lowers his hands and smiles as he scratches his beard. A tuft along his chin juts out and he smooths it. His other arm falls behind you and trails his fingers up the back of your shirt. You shiver but do you best to suppress it.

“Morning,” you squeak back, bending your knees to your chest, “um, I’ll…” you search the wall on the other side of him as you think, “I’ll go make some coffee.”

“Oh,” his voice gristles with disappointment, “you’re leaving me?”

“Um, well, no, I just…”

“Can I get a kiss before you go?” He asks, playing with a dimple in the fabric of your shirt.

Your brows rise high and your eyes round. A kiss? Oh, you suppose that’s normal. If he loves you and you love him.

You nod and shift reluctantly. You unfold your legs as you twist around and lean in. He closes his eyes and you peck his cheek quickly before shoving away from him. You bounce across the bed, hopping off as your lips tingle funnily.

He groans but doesn’t say anything. You scurry to the door and stop just inside the frame. You look back at him, breathless in disbelief at what you just did. You really just kissed him.

“I’ll get changed and put the coffee on,” you promise with a sheepish smile.

“Alright,” his hand drops heavily onto the mattress. Your heart sinks. It wasn’t enough. You let him down again but that’s a lot for you.

You slouch and turn away. You shuffle down the hall and dip into the guest room. You shut the door behind you as your lip quivers. You thought you were getting better but that word just sticks in your head; ‘alright’. His grim tone stamped into your mind.

You pull out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. You dress, happy to be rid of the shorts and high-cut shirt. You put on a pair of fuzzy socks as your toes throb in the chilly air. You’re nice and cozy and comfy.

As you come out into the hall, you keep from crossing it. The bathroom door is closed. Dang. You were going to brush your teeth. You’ll have to wait. Once you get the coffee going, you’re sure it’ll be free.

You take a step down the hall and nearly trip. A low, sonorous sound draws you to a stop. You’re not sure what it is at first. You almost think it’s the floor groaning under your weight. No, it’s too full to be that. It rises again, a deep rumble that makes your stomach swirl strangely.

There’s a sharp breath. Almost a hiss. Shallow pants beneath the rich groans. Your heartbeat picks up, racing as you know you should cover your ears and run away. It’s him! It’s Andy. What is he doing?

You retreat and raise your hand to knock but stop as his voice gets louder. You think better of asking if he’s okay as you realise you might be intruding. The epiphany of what he’s doing makes you feel very… ashamed. You shouldn’t be hearing this.

You spin and flit down the hall, carelessly letting your feet thump on the floor and down the stairs. Forget it, focus on what you have to do. Coffee for Andy, tea for you. You can’t let one awkward moment ruin the whole day.

Once the pot is brewing, you set the kettle over a burner and pick out a pair of mugs. You busy yourself with tiny things; straightening the dishcloth on its hook and sweeping away an errant crumb. You hear the stairs as Andy comes down, another yawn, more theatrical than before as he enters the kitchen.

You face him as the coffee machine grinds. His cheeks are slightly flushed as he stretches his neck one way than the other. He goes to the fridge and takes out the carton of oat milk. You watch him, your voice trapped inside of you. You feel as if you might just blurt out what you heard.

He faces you and places the carton next to one of the mugs. He looks at you as you stare at the floor. You rub your arm and sway on your feet.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” He asks.

You frown and shrug, “I… you don’t like it?”

“Well, I thought you might… you might want to wear something I bought you. Dr. Kemp is coming over.”

“Oh, I guess,” you tug at the bottom of your shirt and examine it, “I didn’t think…”

“You don’t have to,” he says bluntly, “it’s up to you. I just thought you’d want to look good for company.”

You blink and peer up at him, hurt. What is he saying?

“You’re always cute, dove,” he reaches to caress your cheek, “but I know you can look even better,”

He kisses your forehead and you wince. You nod and sidle away from him, folding your arms over your chest as your socks slip on the tile, “I know… I’ll go change.”

🕊️

There’s a knock at the front door. You sit forward as Andy gets up. He wears a powder blue pullover and pair of dark blue jeans.

You wear a short denim dress over a turtleneck, a few new pieces from the closet. Still, it doesn't seem good enough for Andy as he only said 'good enough' before pacing around restlessly. Now the time has come and your anxiety is about to overflow.

You wring your hands as you hear Andy open the front door. His greeting is met by Kemp's rich tone and you tug at your sleeves, waiting and watching the door. You don't know what to expect.

"There she is," Kemp smiles at you, "how are you doing, sweetheart?"

You try to return the gesture and stand. He looks around, appraising the room with a thoughtful hum. He twines his fingers together and cracks his knuckles.

"You good sitting there?" He asks as he looks at you again.

You nod and resume your seat in the armchair. Andy hovers behind the couch as Kemp nears the mantle and picks up the signed baseball there. He examines it before facing the room again.

"Andrew, why don't you sit down?"

"Wait, I, er, I forgot," Andy insists and goes to the console table near the window. He opens the draw and pulls out a familiar shape. It's your notebook, how did he get that?

"I thought this might help," Andy carries it over to Kemp and holds it out. The doctor considers it and swallows. His eyes flick up to meet the other man's and he raises his chin as his smile turns strained.

"Thanks," he slowly takes the book and pivots on his heel. He approaches you as you frown at his hand. Your lip trembles as you flutter your eyes.

"Here," he offers it, "that's yours."

You take it and thank him with a squeak, hugging it tightly to your chest. You see Andy's brow arch as he stares at the doctor. Your heart won't stop racing.

"No need for that," he says to Andy as he backs up, "all I need are you two. So please, sit."

You can tell by Andy's stunted movement's and the twitch in his jaw that he's not happy. Well you aren't either. He took your journal without asking. That's your private thoughts.

Dr. Kemp waits until Andy is sitting before he relaxes his postures, blowing out a breath as he slides his hands into his pants pockets, "so I think it's pretty obvious what we need to work on; boundaries."

Andy's nostrils flare as you stare down at the cover of your journal. Did he look inside? Did he read anything?

"Let's start with privacy. Anything we deal within individual sessions will be kept confidential. Including that," Steve angles around to face Andy as he point to you, "when we are altogether, we share what is important for the two of you to work together."

"Okay," your murmur as you lift your head, Andy grumbles.

"Andrew, apologise."

"What?" Andy snaps.

"Don't you think you owe her after you took something that doesn't belong to you?"

"Are you serious?"

"Alright, then, if all's fair, you will hand over your phone and let her have a look, won't you?" Kemp challenges.

Andy sucks in his cheeks and sighs. He looks at you and lets the tension drain from his face, "I'm sorry, dove. I didn't mean… I only… I thought it would help. I didn't look inside."

You cling to the book, "it's okay."

"Is it?" Kemp shifts towards you, "is it okay?"

You look him in the face, just for a second before letting your eyes wander to safety along the wall. You shrug.

"You can say, we're here to communicate," he coaxes, "how do you feel?"

"Erm… upset, " you admit.

"Are you hurt?"

You nod again, "I'm… mad."

"As would be expected. And do you hear Andrew's apology? Do you accept it?"

You chew your lip and glance at Andy, "I can."

"Alright, so that's a boundary set," Kemp declares, "but we're not just focusing on those. Let's think about barriers. There are some very obvious ones here. Not least of all communication."

You put your head down and listen. Andy bends one leg over the other as he leans back and rests his chin on his knuckles. You wait as Kemp walks in careless lines around the room.

"So we need to talk to each other. Let each other know how we're feeling. So let's be together," he continues, "please, come sit with Andrew."

You wince but get up. You put your notebook on the table as you pass it can sit on the cushion next to Andy, keeping space between you. Kemp comes close and looks down at you, "come in cozy."

He gestures with both hands. You sidle over as Andy does the same. He jostles you slightly as his arm brushes against yours.

"Alright, I'm sensing a divide. There's resistance here," Kemp rubs his chin, "now, I spoke with Andrew but I don't want to share anything too much, so please why don't you share why you called me here?"

Kemp waits, watching Andy, who puts his elbows on his thighs and taps his fingertips together. He peeks over at you.

"Well, you know–"

"Tell her," Kemp directs.

Andy clears his throat and angles slightly. You feel like melting against his gaze, "dove, we already talked about some of it, didn't we? When I try to be nice, you just pull away."

You listen, shoulders slumping, spirit shriveling.

"And it just feels like you take whatever you need and leave me with nothing," he carries on.

"In what way? Be specific. What is the issues here?" Kemp prompts.

"I… I don't want to embarrass her… er, you, dove, but… when I touch you, you… you act afraid and… and you never try to touch me," he sits up and gulps loudly, "I'm a touchy person. That's how I communicate."

"Good, good," Kemp praises, "that's good to vocalise your needs. And she can't give you what you need if she doesn't know, right?"

You look between them, confused. They're doing most of the talking but you don't know what to say. You don't know how to feel.

"And you," Kemp opens his hands in your direction, "What do you need?"

Your lips part, your mouth is dry, your ears are fuzzy. You have no idea what they want you to say. You're not used to asking for things, there's not much you can think of that they can give you.

"Nothing. I have more than enough," you say.

"Sweetie, it's okay," Andy assures you.

You shake your head. You really don't know what they're asking. You just want to draw and maybe even be happy.

"It's alright," Kemp leans back on his heel, "she might not know."

You rub your lips together and clutch your hands tight. It feels hot in the room. Like you could turn into a puddle.

"That means we take it slow. Figure it out. Patience for both of you. Andrew, you have to take your time showing her what you need and you," he smiles at you, "need to be patient with yourself. Explore and let yourself feel before you judge."

You furrow your brow. Kemp backs up further and hooks a thumb in his pocket, "alright, let's try something small. A nice starting point." He instructs, "hold hands."

Andy perks up and looks at you. You can't meet his gaze as you stare at the thick wool weaving of the doctor's sweater. Andy puts his hand against his leg and opens his fingers.

"Whenever you're ready," Kemp says.

You swallow and shakily raise your hand. You lay it in Andy's and he spreads his fingers so yours slip between them. He curls his grip around you, tight and warm.

"And how is that?"

"Nice," Andy answers first.

You sniff and nod, "yeah… nice."

"Alright, see. I don't want either of you to stress. This is healthy. Working together, right? Trust me, you're not the first or last couple to come to me."

"Sure," Andy squeezes your hand as if he's afraid you'll pull away.

"Hm, right, now one step further," Kemp continues, "put your arm over her shoulder."

You freeze, body locking in place. You're too afraid to protest. Therapy is hard work, Dr. Kemp said that the first day you met him. This is the only way to get better. Stop thinking about yourself, Andy is trying so hard.

Andy untwines his fingers from yours, leaning back slightly. He clears his throat and extends his arm behind you. Cautiously, he lets it rest over your shoulder. You try not to shrink down any further. He pulls you against him just slightly.

"And that? Is it good?" Kemp asks.

Andy answers the same as last time and you echo him with another stiff nod. Kemp seems pleased as he claps his hands together. He drops his arms and frames his hips.

"Okay, one last thing for today," he begins, "and Andrew, you can relax, I want her to initiate." He looks at you and your eyes meet for a brief moment, "a kiss."

"On the lips?" Andy asks, reminding you of how you chickened out and pecked his cheek earlier.

"Yes, just a small one,” Kemp encourages you.

You hesitate as you feel the tension in Andy’s body firm. Oh no, you don’t want to let him down. You reach up to rub your cheek and slowly slide forward. You lift your head and face Andy cautiously as he looks over at you.

You can’t look him in the eye. Your ears thrum loudly as your gaze falls to his lips. You feel like you’re choking on air. Just do it. Just get it over with. It’s what you have to do to make him happy and maybe if you make him happy, you might be happy too.

You lean in, awkward as you’re unsure of the angle. You hover before him, quivering with doubt. You make yourself move forward and press your lips to his, letting out a squeak as your mouths meet. You hold yourself there for as long as you can before you pull away.

You sit back and stare at your lap. Your whole body is buzzing with a mix of hot and cold. You don’t know how you feel, you just feel different.

“That was good,” Kemp says, “wasn’t it, Andrew?”

“Y-yes,” Andy rasps, “see, dove,” he puts his hand on your knee, “we’ll work on it, huh?”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #don't speak #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #library au #series #fresh #defending jacob #steve kemp

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yuecrown · 6 months

Text

I LOVE YOU — ron kamonohashi

pairings: ron kamonohashi x gn!reader. warnings: fluff. established relationship. 0.9k wc. notes: this is my first fic for rkdd but i had to write for ron bc hello ?! he's such a menace (affectionate) <3

when you wake up, the first thought on your mind is that you haven’t slept this well in ages. usually you’re a light sleeper, roused from sleep by even the smallest disturbances.

this morning however, your eyes don’t open until past 10 am— extremely late by your standards. maybe it’s because this is your first time sleeping over at your boyfriend ron’s place. it’s also the first time in a long while that you’ve felt so loved, so safe.

his bed is as comfy as you’d expect it to be, covered with soft blankets, tons of pillows and platypus plushies. it’s huge too, easily big enough to fit both ron and you— but he’s not here.

you blink sleepily and sit up in bed, rubbing your eyes. the space beside you is empty, but the sheets are messy, meaning that ron did sleep here, at least for a while.

you frown. did he find sharing his bed with another person uncomfortable? or did he just have to get up early because toto brought him a case to solve?

you’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of something shattering. it seems to be coming from the kitchen. you throw the covers back, about to go find the source of the sound, when ron appears in the doorway.

he looks messier than usual, and it’s cute. his long dark hair is damp, and obscuring his eyes, slightly more tousled than what you’re used to. a towel is slung around his shoulders, and he’s already dressed in his usual t-shirt, jacket and jeans.

“good morning, y/n.” his voice is warm and tinged with excitement as he beams proudly and holds out a tray. “i made you breakfast!”

“good morning,” you mumble back sleepily, stifling a yawn. “i heard something break, are you okay?”

he waves a hand dismissively. “it was just a plate. an occupational hazard.”

“of being a detective?”

“of being a prodigal chef,” he corrects, gesturing towards the tray.

there’s a cute mug with a cat face on it, filled with coffee, alongside a plate stacked with fluffy-looking pancakes.

you sip at the coffee, and almost spit it right out when you taste just how much brown sugar he’s put in it.

“i didn’t know how you took your coffee,” ron says apologetically.

you gingerly sip at the drink again and grimace. “so you decided to add ungodly amounts of brown sugar syrup to it?”

ron blinks. “you don’t like it?”

his head is tilted to one side and he’s watching you keenly, waiting for an answer. the embarrassing truth is that you’d do anything to see him smile, so you steel your nerves and say, “no, um, it’s great! really.”

you can’t tell if he buys the lie or not, but he seems happy enough either way. “good.”

he hugs you from behind, arms wrapping around you as he rests his chin on your shoulder. his warm breath tickles your neck. “you should sleep over more often.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. i… i liked it. you’re cute when you’re asleep.”

the unexpected comment has you flustered, but ron seems oblivious as he stabs a pancake with a fork and feeds it to you.

you take a bite and prepare yourself for the brown sugar taste to flood your senses, but instead it’s actually balanced out by the other ingredients. “wait, ron— this is really good!”

“i knew it.” his tone is smug as he eats the rest of the pancake you just took a bite out of. “and now we’ve shared an indirect kiss.”

you try not to laugh at how proud of himself he looks. “we can share a real one too if you want.”

the tips of his ears grown pink. he murmurs, “okay,” and leans in to kiss you, eyes closed.

he tugs you closer onto his lap, one hand resting against your back, keeping you steady. despite his inexperience, he’s a good kisser. it makes sense, you think to yourself— he’s an incredibly quick learner, and even more so when it’s something he enjoys— and the eagerness with which he presses his warm lips to yours proves that he definitely enjoys kissing you.

when you finally pull away, he grins. “if you stay over more often, we can do more of this.”

“you don’t have to try and convince me,” you reply. “i’d love to spend more nights with you.”

“you would?”

“of course, i love you.” the words slip out easier than you’d thought. truth be told, you hadn’t even meant to say them, but now that you had, you weren’t going to take them back.

there’s silence for a few seconds. ron’s eyes bore into you, and both of you hold your breath. then he drapes himself over you like a koala, clutching you tightly, and says, “i love you too.”

you try and fail to hide your giddy smile, burying your face into his neck. “oh.”

he pulls himself off you and observes your flustered expression, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “i’d assumed it was a given, but you seem to like it when i say the words out loud. hmm. cute. i love you, y/n.”

you hit him on the arm and huff, “you’re insufferable.”

“but you love me, right?”

you stick your tongue out at him. “actually, i love your cat more, so there.”

he sulkily replies, “well, i love brown sugar more, so there.”

“oh, okay.” you get up, pretending to leave. ron grabs your wrist and tugs you back into his embrace, murmuring, “i was kidding.”

you smile and take his hand. “i know.”

he links his fingers with yours tightly and says, “i’ll always love you most.”

#ron kamonohashi x reader #ron kamonohashi x gn reader #rkdd x reader #ron kamonohashi #rkdd #deranged detective #kamonohashi ron no kindan suiri #kamonohashi ron x reader #rom kamonohashi's forbidden deductions

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nvoirs · 11 months

Note

Idk if u do smut but imagine being leons coworker that he flirts with and like, he spots you at a bar??? Like him walking up to u and offering to buy you a drink???? Idk if this makes sense my brain kinda just jumbles my thoughts

Disclaimers: F.O.S (field operations support) is the same sub area Hunnigan works, basically reader is an operator, fingering, missionary.

Note: So I was originally not going to do this request as I have something similar here (It's not the best though, because It was my second ever work written) but I just went ahead with it. And btw my whole account is smut lmaooo.

An ice cold drink and a comfy place to sit was just what you needed. After a long and exhausting day at the F.O.S telling relevant information to random agents you’ll never speak to again.

You smirked as you picked up the glass in your hand, shaking the ice that clinked inside as you thought of that one particular agent.

Leon was definitely something. He was outgoing with his flirting remarks that you had just assumed he was single. Maybe you’d shoot your shot one day, who knows?

But that’s when you remembered you had some important files that needed to be sent off to your boss before you got chewed up and spat out. Groaning you buried your face in your hands.

Someone called your name making you turn confused as to who would be here that you knew at this time of night.

Speak of the devil, that it was none other than Leon himself. You called out a hey and waved him over as he sat done in the chair opposite you.

“Why’re you all alone here, pretty girl?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms and tilting your head to the side. “Pretty girl? I’m nothing but that right now today was so hectic. My job consists of yelling at dumbasses who half the time ignore my words.” You rubbed your temples, eyes rolling at the thought.

“Well I guess I’m one of those dumbasses, huh?”

“Oh I didn’t mean you Leon… you're definitely not a dumbass. I actually enjoy working with you.” You mumbled the last part but he heard it.

“Oh yeah you do? I mean all the ladies who assist me do so why don’t I buy you a drink?”

He leaned his elbow against the wooden table, chin in hand waiting for your answer.

“Not that I don’t like you Leon, but I don’t think I should drink anymore because I have to drive home.” You rambled.

He was so close, you could feel the effects of his words on your flushed skin. He looked infatuated with you, you weren’t sure why. Why? You were extremely boring, you had nothing to offer but you didn’t want to let go of Leon.

Maybe you could make him yours just for tonight?

And maybe you were both tipsy and you’d both wake up tomorrow morning and realise this was a mistake. Somehow you shared a sweet kiss while still sitting at the table, his hand held yours as he just couldn’t get enough of your addictive taste.

Don’t ask how you made it home, but with a little surprise of Leon on the side. As soon as you fumbled for your keys, feeling Leon nuzzle into the nape of your neck, hands tight around your waist shivering at the warmth that rushed through you as he pressed you to the now closed door making out with you harder.

Rougher, faster and stronger. You pushed him to your bedroom door and he groaned at the sight of your bed. What a lucky man, getting to fuck you straight in your bed. A private space where you had masturbated to the thought of him so many times that you’d lost count.

Call yourself a pervert, but you knew Leon was definitely doing the same. Why had you waited this long for this? You were missing out and you gripped onto Leon’s arms as he pulled down your jeans, seeing the white underwear you had on.

So thin. So delicate. Easy to rip and that’s what he did. The lack of sheer control had gotten to Leon’s head. Pulling the now ripped panties of your bare legs, inhaling them deeply like a perverted teen he tossed them aside as he spread your legs wider.

“You're so wet, did I do this?”

You nodded moaning as Leon rubbed a finger from your clit to your hole, the friction was building and all you wanted was for him to bury his thick fingers inside you. To make you his, and have you screaming his name.

But this didn’t feel like one of those cliché one night stands you see on tv.

No. This was romantic in a way. You felt the passion coursing through the part where your bodies met. Where he was fully sheathed inside your warm, wet cunt.

Huffing above you he looked like an angel that had fallen from the heavens. An angel that made out with you under the moonlight his name falling from your lips like a prayer over and over again.

100% was not thinking of og re4 in this case..

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil #re4 leon smut

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finnofamerica · 1 year

Text

Professor, Please - Dr. Ian Malcolm x Reader || Fluff \ Smut

Summary: When your grades slip due to your fantasizing about your sexy professor, you would do damn near anything to get your grades back up.

Prompt: Would you be comfy with writing, professor! Ian x student!f!reader??? Like they started fucking because of “grades but in reality, they’re both head over heels for each other

Word Count: 1,179

Date Posted: 05.13.23

TW: Breeding, Exhibitionism, Dirty Talk, Nipple Play, Praise, Slight Edging, Teacher/Student Relationship.

Note: Remember that kink is customizable, and there is no right way to do it as long as you’re keeping safe. We play by Safe, Sane, and Consensual here, but there is also Risk Aware Consensual Kink and Personal Responsibility, Informed Consensual Kink. Don’t yuck anyone’s yum, I am willing to answer any questions that I can.

🔞MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🔞

|| Request Here || Masterlist || Fandoms/Characters || Req. by Anon

You were completely zoned in class. The only thought in your brain was how much you wanted to go home and rub one out so you could get back to work. Not that you didn’t enjoy the subject. You thought that Chaos Theory was fascinating. It wasn’t your fault you were so out of it. The professor was the cause of your distracted state.

Dr. Ian Malcolm was sex on legs, and arousal burned in you from the moment you first stepped into his class at the beginning of the semester. Black dress shirt partially unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, dark jeans that accentuated the length of his legs, paired with black boots - You practically came on the spot. Dr. Malcolm had these long, lithe fingers that you caught yourself fantasizing about constantly.

“Class dismissed,” Ian called out. The sudden movement of your classmates snapped you back into reality. You’d missed the entire lecture. “Miss Y/L/N, I need to have a word with you before you leave.”

Shit. Your stomach fell out of your ass. You packed your things into your backpack, hands shaking. You slung your backpack over your shoulder and nervously adjusted your shorts that had ridden up and settled into the crease between your hips and your thighs. You weren’t sure your legs would hold you up as you made your way down to the lectern at the front of the lecture hall. You could practically feel his gaze burning into you as his eyes followed you down the aisle.

“Y/N, right? Is it all right if I call you that?” He asked, leaning casually against the lectern, arms folded over his chest, pulling his shirt open just enough for you to get a peak at his chest hair.

“Yes, Sir, that’s fine.” You swallowed thickly, forcing your eyes to his.

“Y/n, are you aware that your grades in this class are abysmal? Is everything okay? You seem distracted.”

Of course, he could see right through you.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Malcolm. I will try to be more focused in the future.”

“At this rate, Y/n, you’re not going to pass this class. Even if you manage to focus up for the rest of the semester.” He sighed disappointedly. “It's a shame, and You were recommended highly by the other professors when you signed up for this class.”

“Professor, please, I will do almost anything to improve my grades. I can’t afford to fail this class.”

“Why don’t we head back to my office to discuss your options.”

You gripped Ian’s desk tightly, muffling your moans with your hand. Your shorts were pulled down around your thighs, just enough for him to slide in between your legs; your thong was pulled off to the side, the thin fabric surely soaked.

“Fuck, Professor, please,” You moaned into your hand as he railed you from behind, one of his hands wrapped up in your hair.

“God, you feel good, Y/n,” Ian growled, grip on your hair tightening.

“Thank you, Professor,” You gasped out between thrusts.

“You on birth control?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good, ‘cus I’m not pulling out.”

Your pussy clenched around him, a flood of arousal soaking his cock.

“You just got so wet, Baby,” He tugged on your hair so he could growl in your ear, “Do you like the idea of me filling you with my seed?”

“Yes, Professor,” You moaned as he slowed his thrusts just enough to give you a breather.

“Fuck,” He chuckled, “You’re a little slut, huh?”

You whimpered underneath him. The threat of someone walking in on the two of you was not far from your mind. With the way that he was fucking you, you couldn’t care less if someone found you.

“Just for you, Professor.”

He thrust fast into you, your little breather over. The sound of skin slapping skin and moaning filling his office. He reached his free hand around your front, cupping your breast. Your nipples were stiff against his warm palm. The scratching of your bra against your taught had you whimpering beneath him. It was just enough to get you to the edge but not get you off. You would have given anything to orgasm while his cock was still buried inside you.

“Tell me you want me to come in you,” Ian demanded, close to orgasm himself.

“I want you to come in me, Professor, please,” You whined, desperate to tip over the edge yourself. His thrusts stuttered, and he buried himself as deep as he could in your pussy. You could feel his cock twitching as he spilled inside you.

Slowly he pulled out, dropping to his knees.

“What‘re you-”

Your question was cut off by a long swipe of his tongue up your pussy, cleaning up the mess he’d made. He flicked his tongue against your clit, trying out different speeds and motions until he found the one that made you weak in the knees.

You’d had a few boyfriends in your life, but none could compare to the way this man was devouring you. Ian was like a man starved. He was eating you out like you were his last meal.

“Fuck, Professor, Please, I can’t take much more,” You whined. He gripped your thighs tightly but said nothing. The message was clear; you were not going anywhere until you came on his tongue. It was like every nerve in you was set on fire, as even your face began to tingle. You were so close, and that hot coil began to twist in your stomach. The eruption was imminent. Your legs spasmed beneath you as you orgasmed hard against his tongue, whimpering some form of his name.

“Good girl,” He cooed as he tucked your thong back in place and pulled your shorts back up over your ass. “Meet with me every other week after class.”

“Yes, Professor,” You nodded as you righted yourself, hoping to calm your flushed face before you left his office.

“I expect you to focus in future classes, Y/n,” Ian said seriously, two fingers tucked underneath your chin so you couldn’t shy away from him.

You were hooked on him ever since. Bi-weekly meetings in his office soon weren’t enough for either of you. You’d begun sneaking off to his condo in the middle of the night after your roommates were long asleep. Hookups turned into him making you dinner and stuttering excuses to your roommates when you spent the night.

Tonight you were wrapped up in his arms, lying on the couch as some movie you weren’t really paying attention to played on the television. You drew lazy circles on his chest as he rubbed your back gently. You couldn’t imagine a more beautiful man at this moment.

“What?” He chuckled softly as he caught you staring.

“Nothin’. I just love you.” You were so relaxed it took you a full moment for your brain to catch up with your words. Neither of you had said it until this moment.

Ian smiled, “I love you too.”

Tags: @glowstick-anon

#ian malcolm x reader #dr. ian malcolm x reader #jurassic park x reader #jurrasic world x reader #dr. ian malcolm #ian malcolm #jurassic world #jurassic park #05.13.23

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bigtreefest · 25 days

Text

Chapter 6: San Antonio Stroll

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: You can’t ask for much more than good friends and good times.

Word count: 3,620

Content/warnings: heavy drinking, accidental misogyny, friendship, flirting, country close dancing (that’s not an innuendo…yet), mentions of puke, curdled milk, improper treatment of plants (it’s ok tho bc they’re ugly flowers), swears

Author’s Note: Another chapter that made me giggle and kick my feet as I wrote it. I hope you enjoy—let me know if you did through comments, reblogs, and asks!! (And also likes)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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You were in the corner of Bucky’s room, laying sideways across the armchair reading a book when he began to stir. He stretched and looked around, the late morning sun lighting up his sharp features and causing him to squint.

“Well good morning, sleeping beauty.” Bucky’s eyes finally found you as he let out a groan and flopped back into bed, turning over and pulling the covers with him.

“What happened?” Came muffled from under the comforter. You laughed and shifted to get up, walking to the side of his bed and crouching down. You carefully slid your hand under the bedding and flipped it open to be met by the sapphire eyes of the mob boss, framed by his messy morning hair. He smiled slightly at the sight of you, causing his eyes to sparkle even more on top of the way they were lit up by the sun’s morning glow.

“You passed out. Do you remember?” You didn’t specifically mention the kiss, but based on the way Bucky hid his face against the mattress and nodded, you knew he did.

“Why? How did I get here? What time is it?” You laughed and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Well, according to Steve, you haven’t been sleeping all week and were being kept up by the adrenaline with that whole situation Thursday into yesterday. The second I got out, you collapsed, probably from a mixture of exhaustion and finally feeling safety, which counteracted that adrenaline. That’s what Decks said, at least.”

Bucky’s head cocked to the side as he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Yesterday? You got out yesterday? I thought you got out today.”

You shook your head. “No, Bucky. You’ve been sleeping for twenty hours. It’s Saturday.”

His eyes went wide and he shot up out of bed. “What!? You’re telling me I lost a whole day!? What about all the chores that needed finished? Or the rest of the other business dealings I had to direct?”

You ran your hand through his hair and down to his cheek to calm him down. “It’s all been taken care of. Steve closed up the rest of your business dealings, including Jake. Said he did his job and you would’ve called him ‘a good boy,’ so he’s visiting his mom right now before the jet flies him back tomorrow.”

Bucky nodded along, letting out an exhale of a small laugh at how well Steve knew him. You continued. “While Steve took care of things here, Sam drove back to the city to handle everything there, but otherwise everyone else stayed and is leaving tomorrow. Well, everyone except your construction crew. They’re staying until all tunnels are stabilized.”

“And the farm?” You were surprised at his concern over the land, something more than what directly applied to him.

“Curtis is out there right now. There’s not much to do, because according to him, ‘Bucky ran around like a busy bee doing all the chores with his nervous energy.’”

Bucky laughed. “He’s not wrong. And I encouraged Steve to do the same.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. But speaking of Curtis, you should thank him. He’s the one who carried you all the way over here and up the stairs.”

“So what do you think? Another night at the bar will do it? Drinks on me?” Bucky waggled his eyebrows.

When Bucky got up and showered, he changed into jeans and a comfy shirt before galloping down the steps. There, he saw Decks and Steve sitting on the couch chatting, each drinking a small glass of chocolate milk, as he made his way to your office.

The door was open, so he peeked his head in to see you closely examining several papers sprawled out. You tore your glance from the blinding white sheets and rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands. “Hey, you were in here? I saw some stuff was moved around.”

Bucky nodded slowly, coming into your office fully and gently closing the door. “Yeah. I took a look at that contract the dairy girl left on your desk.” Bucky gestured to the one in your hand.

You felt the compulsion to laugh at his statement, the way he refused to say Cole’s name, but kept your lips tight and sighed instead. “Now, Bucky, you know I’m technically a ‘dairy girl,’ right? Please don’t insult me and my efforts in your attempts to make a jab at Cole. I know he sucks, trust me.”

Bucky winced at his mistake. No one in his line of work would’ve batted an eye at a statement like that, but he was starting to realize just how deep the misogyny ran. You were so capable, and Cole and Lloyd really thought they had the authority to push you out. Although, they probably would have done that no matter your gender, but the point was, they were entitled pricks.

“My bad, Honeybee. Won’t happen again. But yes, I do want to tell you that the law firm that Cole’s associated with has ties to a bad guy. Like, certifiably insane. He fights dirty, so I’ve got Sam looking into it all. That’s probably why he went back so soon.”

You nodded slowly, trying to hide the concern of how your small operation had gotten itself into this entangled web of a mess, but honestly, it could have been a coincidence. You had also read a page of Bucky’s notes which had been scrawled haphazardly, denoting everything that Jake had said about their interaction. At the bottom of that page was an additional note ‘train to handle interrogation better on plane ride home.’ You laughed at that; Jake was always a little too honest for his own good.

But thinking back to the mess you were in, Cole probably would have gone for your farm either way, tied with Lloyd or not, thanks to Jake’s loose lips.

Bucky could see you ruminating and making connections. He confirmed your thoughts. “If it helps at all, I don’t think Lloyd or Cole know who you’re working with. Lloyd hasn’t been around, and Cole can’t put my name to a face. If they had done so already, we might be dealing with something different.” He shrugged.

You knew it shouldn’t have that quickly, but Bucky’s statement provided you with relief. After the past few days, you could see how many men he must’ve had at his disposal if he only sent you a skeleton crew for what was done at the farm. He was calculated and smart, and it was beyond comforting.

Just then, there was a knock at the door and Decks came in, holding a large vase at full arm’s length. It was stuffed with blueish hydrangeas: your least favorite flower.

That was when the smell hit you and Bucky like a wall, the both of you squeezing your noses shut as you shouted with a nasally voice. “Ugh! Decks, get that out of here. Where the hell did those come from?”

She ran back towards the front door, where Steve was holding it open, to set them on the porch. “Just got delivered. Don’t worry, I’ve smelled worse. There’s a card here.”

Everyone else stood back, hands covering their airways as she plucked the small piece of paper from the petals and read it out loud.

“Peach, can’t wait to milk our deal together. -Cole”

Everyone exchanged glances, disgusted by the weirdly suggestive statement, as Decks pulled the hydrangeas out of the vase and tossed them into the yard. She knew how much you hated them. She peered into the vase and gave it a sniff.

“He put the flowers in milk…and,” she sniffed again, “lemon juice?”

The two of you exchanged a glance and you laughed at how foolish Cole was. You could tell Bucky and Steve were utterly confused, so you explained as Decks walked into the yard with the vase. The smell was far away enough now that you didn’t need to cover your nose.

“First off, I hate hydrangeas, so I’m glad Decks knew to get those little bitches out of my face. The only cool thing about them is they change color based on pH. So if they’re in an acidic environment, they’ll turn blue, one of the Turner farms signature colors. I’m sure Cole thought he was being so cute, putting flowers in a vase of milk, but milk is hardly acidic enough to cause any color change, so his smart ass thought lemon juice would be the solution. It worked, but at the cost of curdling the milk.”

You scrunched your face in disgust as Steve and Bucky mirrored it, the three of you looking out into the yard where Decks was shaking the vase vigorously, trying to get all the solids out. She reached for the garden hose and sprayed it out, the force of the stream moving the vase a few feet. She turned off the hose and grabbed the vase, stomping back into the house and slipping off her shoes.

Decks shoved the vase into Steve’s chest and he cradled it with an oof.

“Finish cleaning that. And dump out my glass. I won’t be able to drink milk again for months.” She grumbled. You looked to her as she was retreating from the living room.

“Where are you going?” She turned to look at you briefly.

“To take a shower.” Her head whipped back around.

She continued to stomp up the stairs before gesturing aggressively with her arms above her head. “WHY DO GUYS ALWAYS SEND YOU WEIRD SHIT LIKE THAT!?”

Steve looked at the vase in his hands and rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I’m gonna need a shower, too, after this.”

Once evening came, everyone was finally clean and ready to go, including Curtis, who had come back shortly after the hydrangea incident.

You considered piling the five of you into one car, but Curtis offered to drive, as well, taking Steve and Decks with him as you and Bucky drove in your truck. Curtis figured he’d go home after the bar, anyway, since your house was crowded enough with the extra guests.

As you and Bucky wound around the country roads toward town, he spoke up. “So Decks, she’s quite the character…”

You laughed and nodded, one hand on the wheel while you continued to look forward at the road. “Oh yeah, for sure. I mean, she’s been there for a lot. You’ve gotta be a little crazy to live in close quarters with someone for four years straight like we did. We’ve each got our own things.”

Bucky gave a small chuckle. “I guess it’s good to have someone who knows you so well, though.”

You hummed in agreement, not sure where he was leading this. “And she and Curtis seem close, too. Did she spend a lot of time out here when you were in school?”

You stole a glance at Bucky quickly, catching his inquisitive face. “Yeah, she’d come here for summers and some long weekends. The three of us get along really well.”

Both of you paused before Bucky broke the silence. “So did anything ever happen between the two of them?”

There it was. Who was he asking this for? “Why, asking for a friend? Asking for Stevie?”

Bucky shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “Just curious.”

You gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Uh huh, well you’re lucky I’ll indulge your curiosity because I’m rooting for them, too. To answer your question, no, nothing ever happened. Her place is in the city, and I don’t think Curtis will ever leave here. This is home. They are really good friends, though, sometimes I think they like each other more than they like me.”

Bucky laughed. “That’s how I feel about you and Steve, even though I’m the one who’s been around here the most.”

You gave him a shrug. “Some people just get each other.”

You and Curtis pulled into the bar, parking next to each other. The five of you emerged from the trucks, denim and flannel-clad and ready for a night out.

As you walked in and up to a few empty stools. Curtis hung back, having a word with the bouncer and handing him a sheet of paper, then patting him on the back. The bartender who took your orders was super sweet, and she must’ve been new since you’d never seen her around before.

“I’m not sure what the big guy back there wants quite yet, but I say just make him something good and he’ll be happy.” You pointed a thumb over your shoulder towards Curtis, bumping into where Bucky’s hand was draped as he stood to your other side. The bartender smiled and nodded as Bucky pulled you in closer to his ribs and talked lowly by your ear.

“You and Decks wanna pick out some food while Steve and I grab a booth and a pool table?” You nodded and patted his chest before holding out your hand.

“Sounds good, Bucket. Gimme your black card so I can start a tab.” He smiled and obliged, digging into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. Once you handed the card to the bartender, he walked away and Decks came up beside you.

“Oh, we’re definitely pushing that card to the limit tonight.”

You laughed and nodded with her. “Agreed.”

You sat under Bucky’s arm in the booth, watching Steve teach Decks how to play pool. Little did he know, Decks was even better than you, in fact, at all games you played.

You laughed into your empty beer glass and reached for the pitcher to refill it when you saw Curtis leaning over the bar.

“It’s been forever. I can’t believe he went back over there.” You noted. “Something must’ve caught his eye.” You knew exactly what. It was someone.

When Curtis had come to join the four of you at the table earlier, Bucky had made a toast. “To new friends and the safety of Honeybee.”

Everyone clinked their glasses together. “To Honeybee.” You giggled as everyone took a sip and Curtis was gone the next second.

He claimed a seat at the bar and hadn’t moved since, making heart eyes at the new bartender. You were happy for him. He worked so hard, he deserved this kind of break, and she seemed sweet.

Bucky nodded along to your previous statement, but you could tell something else in the corner had drawn his attention. You were an hour in and Bucky had already probably doubled the rounds you’d taken.

He looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m gonna ride the mechanical bull.” You put a hand on his chest and could feel his speeding heartbeat.

“Slow down. Learn how to ride a horse first, champ. And then, maybe you can do it.”

Bucky shook his head, not wanting to hear what you had to say as he slid out of the booth and walked past the bar, slapping a hand on Curtis’s shoulder as he made his way to the mechanical bull on the far end.

You rose from your seat as Steve and Decks set down their pool cues, following you to stand by Curtis. The four of you, along with the new bartender, watched as Bucky spoke to the operator and got up on the bull. Steve and Decks were clapping and shouting words of encouragement while you looked on in terror. This man could literally not sit on a stationary horse by himself, and he wanted to ride the bull? Well, no use in trying to talk him down now.

You could hear Curtis through the other screams coming around you. “Buck, hold on tight! I am not carrying you up the stairs again if you get knocked down.”

You laughed at that as you began to clap, a huge, yet tentative, smile beaming on you face in anticipation of what was about to go down. The bull started off slow, rocking Bucky back and forth, but it picked up quickly. You watched as his body began to flail, the bull whipping around until it spun, launching him off to the side from the inertia.

The whole bar began to cheer and whoop. He lasted 8.7 seconds.

Another hour later found you and Decks standing by the bar, sipping another drink the bartender who Curtis called ‘Cherry’ had made for you. You were talking about the two mob bosses over at the pool table. Well, you knew what they were, but Decks didn’t yet, although you believed she and Curtis had their suspicions.

You jolted with excitement when a familiar song came through the speakers.

“Oh! You love this one! You remember the dance I showed you in college? I think you’ve got some new guests to teach!” You looked over to Decks as she playfully rolled her eyes.

You danced your way over to Bucky and dragged him out on the dance floor, catching Steve having an animated conversation across the bar on your way over.

You spun Bucky around and pulled him close. “You ready to learn, cowboy?”

Bucky laughed, taking his hat off and putting it on your head. “Lead the way, partner.”

You two-stepped around the dance floor with the music, keeping your eyes on the top of Bucky’s head as he stared down at your feet, trying not to step on them. Unsuccessfully, you might add, but it was adorable to see him trying to fit himself into another part of your world.

“I think it’s time for a break.” This came after a particularly hard stomp on your big toe, you holding in a yelp and Bucky sheepishly looking up at you as he guided you both back to the bar.

Another drink later, and you were spry as a young calf, ready to go for a round of line dancing.

“Come on Bucket, let’s go boot scoot!” Your voice grew louder with another drink, and Bucky was already three sheets to the wind.

After the two intensive rounds, you both flopped down into the booth, Bucky slumped with his head on your shoulder and arm wrapped tightly around your waist. He was being surprisingly affectionate, speaking against your neck.

“How are you so good at everything?” He mumbled. You stroked his hair and kissed the top of his sweaty head, looking around the bar for your friends. You spotted Decks an Steve making their way over to you from where they had just been chatting with Curtis.

You continued to pet Bucky’s head. “If you guys are, I think we’re ready to go. Bucket here is gonna need one for himself. If we get another drink, I fear he might puke.”

Steve bent down to get a better look at Bucky’s face, flicking him in the temple. Bucky’s face scrunched up in annoyance as he sloppily threw out an arm, swatting at Steve.

Steve stood back up. “Yeah, I think we’re good to go, too. Curtis is gonna stay through closing to give Cherry a ride home. I can drive your truck, though. We already closed out the tab.”

He held out his hand and you tossed him the keys. Steve stuffed them in his pocket as you did your best to shove Bucky’s dense, muscular body out of the booth. You watched as Steve bent down and lifted Bucky over his shoulder.

“Steeb, you’re so strong.” You faintly heard Bucky whisper.

Steve chuckled and adjusted him in a fireman’s carry and took him out of the bar, Decks ahead to get the doors.

You hopped up in the back of the truck to help as Steve tossed Bucky in behind you and drove home. Upon arriving, Steve lifted Bucky again, this time setting him down in his bed.

Bucky woke up to the sound of laughter, causing his head to bounce slightly. He looked up and hardly opened his eyes to see your smiling face.

You were laying on your back, propped up against some pillows. Bucky’s arm was slung across your stomach, his leg thrown to be in between yours and his head nestled in your chest.

“I can’t believe you crawled into bed with me.” Bucky smirked and spoke through his cheek smushed against you.

You laughed even harder. “Bucky, what are you talking about? This is my room. You crawled into bed with me.”

His eyes grew wide before he closed them again in satisfaction, nestling in closer to you, getting more comfortable.

“I don’t know when or how that happened, but I’ll own it.” A soft, sleepy smile took over his face.

You continued to stroke his hair. “Despite your rough exterior you put on for strangers, you’ve really got a way with people, ya know? Like when you helped the Carters and got us those free drinks?”

Bucky hummed and squeezed your waist tighter.

“Decks told me you helped them out again. They offered to pay for drinks last night, too?” Bucky nodded.

“Well it’s not as easy as it seems, Honey. But yeah, she thought we were best friends, Mrs. Carter. She even called me Jamie.”

You looked down as Bucky began to trace shapes against the bare skin under your sleep shirt. “Jamie? I like that. What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, nothing’s really wrong, I guess, it’s just that no one has called me that since my ma. It’s kinda reserved for someone special… But I do like the way it sounds coming from you.”

He turned to kiss your palm that had made its way to his cheek.

“Okay, Jamie.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: I’m not sorry for my hate of hydrangeas. They suck.

Series Taglist:

@scuzmunkie @openup-yourmind @vicmc624 @hawkeyes-queen @blackhawkfanatic @morgthemagpie @buckybarnessimpp

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